The familiar epistles of Sir Anthony of Gueuara, preacher, chronicler, and counceller to the Emperour Charles the fifth. Translated out of the Spanish toung, by Edward Hellowes, Groome of the Leashe, and now newly imprinted, corrected, [and] enlarged with other epistles of the same author. VVherein are contained very notable letters ...

¶ The familiar Epistles of Sir Anto∣ny of Gueuara, Bishop of Mon∣donedo, Preacher and Chronicler to Charles the fifth.

¶ An Oration made vnto the Emperours Maiestie in a Sermon, at the triumphs when the French King was taken. VVherin the Author doth perswade to vse his clemency, in recom∣pence of so great a victory.

S.C.C.R.M.

SOlon Solonio cōman∣ded in his lawes to the Athenians, that on the day they had ouercome any bat∣tayle, they should offer vnto the Gods great Sacrifices, and giue vnto men large rewards: to the end that against other warres, they might finde the Gods fauourable, and men of willing mindes. Plutarch sayth, that when the Greekes remayned Conquerours in that renowmed battaile of Marathon, they sent vnto the temple of Diana in Ephesus,* 1.1 to offer so much Sil∣uer, that it was to be doubted, whether there remayned so much more in all Greece. When Camilius ouercame the E∣trurians and Volsians, mortall enemies to the Romaines, all the women of Rome did not forget to sende to the Oracle of Apol∣lo, which stoode in Asia, as much Golde and Siluer as they had in possession, without reseruing any one iewell. When the Consull Silla was Conquerour of the valiant King Mithrida∣tes, he conceyued so great pleasure in his hart, that not con∣tented to offer to the God Mars all the spoyle gotten of the e∣nemies, he offered also a viall of his owne bloud. The fa∣mous and glorious Iephthah Duke of the Hebrewes made a solempne vowe, that if God gaue him victorious returne frō the warres he then had in hand, he would offer in the temple

both the bloud and life of his onely daughter: the which vow as he promised, so he accomplished. Of these examples it may be gathered, what and how many thanks Princes ought too giue vnto God, for the triumphes, victories, and bounties hée giueth them: for though it be in the hands of kings to begin warre, it is in the hands of God only to giue victory. There is nothing that moueth god to be lesse carefull for vs, than the ingratitude of a good turne receiued. For the good things wée receiue of men,* 1.2 they will wée recompence or deserue them: but God will that wée gratifie and not forget them. Princes moste chiefly haue cause to beware they forgette not bene∣fites receiued of GOD, bycause the ingratitude of a bene∣fite receiued maketh them incapable and vnworthy of di∣uine fauour in time to come. The forgetfull, ingrate or vn∣kind Prince, neither God doth delight too helpe, or men so serue. All this haue I sayde vnto your imperial Maiestie, by occasion of this great victory ye haue obtained at Pauia, where your armye hath taken Fraunces the Frenche King, who in his owne galleys was brought prisoner into Spayne. A case so graue,* 1.3 a newes so new, a victorie so seldom heard of, a fortune so accomplished is both terrible to the world, and brings your Maiesty in debt, which debt is, to giue God thankes for the victory, and to recompence the conquerours of the battayle. By this it may be apparant to your Maiesty, that there is nothing wherin fortune is lesse constant, than in martiall af∣fayres, since the French king being present (and also taken in his owne person) with all the potentates of Italy, did lose the battayle, where dyed all the nobles of Fraunce. Much shold your Maiesty erre, once to thinke the victory to be gotten by your pollicy, or obtayned by your power, or els to haue hap∣pened by chaunce. For a déede so famous, an act so glorious, and a case so heroicall, as this is, doth not fall out vnder for∣tune, but is only giuen by diuine prouidence. Quid retribuam Domino pro omnibus quae retribuit mihi? If Dauid being a King, a Prophet, a Sainct, and with God so priuate, vnderstoode not what to present vnto God, for the good things hée had recei∣ued:

what shall we doe that are miserable, that vnderstand not what to say, nor haue not what to giue? of our selues wée are so weake, and our abilitie so small, our valure so little, and haue so few things, that if God do not giue wherwith to giue, of our selues we haue not what to giue. And what we haue to craue, or els that he should giue: is his grace to serue him, and not licence to offend him.* 1.4 In remuneration of so great vic∣tory, I would not counsell your Maiesty too offer iewels as the women of Rome, eyther Siluer or Gold as the Greekes, eyther your owne blud as Silla, neyther your childrē as Ieph∣tha: but that ye offer the inobedience and rebellion against your Maiesty, by the commons of Castile. For before GOD there is no Sacrifice more accepted, than the pardoning of e∣nemies. The iewels that we might offer vnto God, procéede from our Cofers: the Gold from our Chests: the bloud from our Veynes: but the pardoning of iniuries, from our hartes and entrayles, where enuie lyeth grinding, and perswading reason to dissemble, and the hart to be reuenged. Much more sure is it for Princes, to be beloued for their clemency, than to be feared for their chastisements. For as Plato sayeth,* 1.5 the man that is feared of many, hath cause also too feare many. Those that offended your Maiestie in those alterations paste, some of them bée deade, some bée banished, some hidden, and some be fledde. Most excellent Prince, it is great reason, that in reward of so great victory, they maye boast themselues of your pietie, and not complaine of your rigor. The wiues of these vnfortunate men bée poore, their daughters vpon the poynt to be lost, their Sonnes are Orphans, their kinsfolkes blushe and are ashamed: In so muche as the pitie that yée shall vse towardes a fewe, redoundeth to the remedie of manie. There is no estate in this worlde, whiche in case of iniury, is not more sure in pardoning than in reuenging: for that many times it dothe happen, that a man séeking occasion too bée reuenged, doth vtterly destroy him selfe.* 1.6 The enemies of Iulius Caesar, did more enuie the pardoning of the Pompeyans, than the killing of Pompeyus himselfe.

For excellencie, it was written of him, that he neuer forgot seruice, or euer did remember iniurie. Two Emperours haue bene in Rome, vnlike in name, and much more in ma∣ners: the one was named Nero the Cruell, the other Antony the Méeke. The which ouernames the Romaines gaue them, the one of Méeke, bycause he could not but pardon, the other of Cruell, bicause he neuer ceased to kill. A Prince although he be prodigall in play, scarce in giuing, vncertaine of his woorde, negligent in gouernement, absolute in cōmaunding, dissolute in liuing, disordinate in eating, and not sober in drinking, is termed but vicious: but if he be cruel and giuen to reuenge, he is named a tyrant. As it is sayde by Plutarch: He is not a tyrant for the goods he taketh, but for the cruel∣ties he vseth. Foure Emperours haue bene of this name. The first was called Charles the great: the second, Charles the Bohemian: the third, Charles the Balde: the fourth, Charles the grosse, the fifth, which is your maiestie, we wishe to be called Charles the Méke, in following the Emperoure Antony the Méeke,* 1.7 which was y^e Prince of all the Romaine Empire best beloued. And bicause Calistines would that Princes should be persuaded by few things, & those very good, and woordes well spoken: I cōclude and say, that Princes with their pietie and clemencie, be of God pardoned, and of their subiects beloued.

An Oration made vnto the Emperours Maiestie, in a sermon on the day of Kings, wherein is declared, howe the name of Kings was inuented, and howe the title of Emperours was first found out. A matter very pleasaunt.

S. C. C. R. M.

THis present day being the day of Kings, in the house of Kings, and in the presence of Kings, it is not vnfitte that wée speake of Kings: though Princes had rather be obeyed than counselled. And seing we preache this day before him that is the Emperour of the

Romains, & King of the Spaniards, it shal be a thing very séem∣ly & also very necessary, to relate here what this woorde King doth mean, and from whence this name Emperor doth come: to the end we may al vnderstand how they ought to gouerne vs, and we to obey them. As concerning this name of King, it is to be vnderstood, that according to the varietie of nations, so did they diuersly name their Princes, that is to saye:* 1.8 A∣mongest the Aegyptians they were called Pharaones: the By∣thinians Ptolomaei: the Persians, Arsicides: the Latines, Murrani: the Albans, Syluij: Sicilians, Tyrants: the Argiues, Kings. The fyrste king of this world the Argiues doe saye was Foroneus: and the Greekes do report, to bée Codor Laomor: Whiche of these opinions is most true, hée only knoweth that is moste high and only true. Although we know not who was the first King, neither who shal be the laste king of the worlde, at the least we know one thing, & that is, that al the Kings past are dead, and al those that now liue shal die: bicause death doth as wel cal the King in his throne, as the laborer at his plow. Also it is to bée vnderstood, that in olde time,* 1.9 to be a King was no dignitie, but onely an office, as Maior or Ruler of a common wealth: After this maner, that euery yeare they did prouide for the office of King to rule, as nowe they do prouide a Vice∣roy to gouerne. Plutarke in his booke of Common wealth dothe reporte, that in the beginning of the worlde all Gouernours were called tyrantes,* 1.10 and after the people did perceiue what difference was betwéene the one and the other, they did or∣deyn amongst thēselues, to name the euill gouernors tyrāts, and the good, they intituled Kings. By this it may be gathe∣red (most excellent Prince) that this name King, is consecra∣ted vnto persons of good deserning, and that be profitable vnto the common wealth: for otherwise he doth not deserue to bée called King, that doth not knowe to gouern. When God did establish an houshold, & for himself did constitute a Common Wealth in the land of the Aegyptians, he would not giue thē kings to gouerne, but Dukes to defend them, that is to say, Moses, Gedeon, Iephtha, and Sampson. This God did to deliuer

them from paying of tributes, and that they might be vsed as brethren, & not as vassals. This maner of gouernment amōg the Hebrues did cōtinue vnto the time of Helie the high priest, vnder whose gouernance the Israelites required a King to go∣uerne their cōmon welth, and to lead them in their warres. Then God gaue them Saul to be their King, much against his will: so that the last Duke of Israell was Helie, and the firste king was Saule. In the beginning when Rome was founded, and the Romanes began to be Lords of the worlde, forthwith they did create kings to rule them, and Captaines to defende them. They found themselues so gréeued with that maner of gouernment, that they suffred but seuen kings, not withstan∣ding they thought them seuen hundred. And bicause the sooth∣sayers had saide, y^t this name King was consecrate vnto the Gods,* 1.11 the Romanes cōmaunded that he should be called King, that was no king: And this was the high priest of the god Iu∣piter, in such maner that he held only the name of king, & the office of priest. Hauing spoken of the name of king, nowe let vs speake of the name of Emperour, that is to say, how it was inuented, where it was inuented, and to what ende it was in∣uented, since it is the name in all this world most reuerēced, & also most desired. And although amongst the Syrians, the As∣syrians, Medes, Persians, Grekes, Troyans, Parthians, Palestines, & Aegyptians, their haue bin princes glorious in armes, & in great estimation in their cōmon wealths, yet they neuer obteyned the name of Emperor,* 1.12 either intituled themselues therwith. In those ancient tymes & in those goldē worlds, the good men and the noble personages did not lay vp their honor in vaine titles, but in noble, valiāt and glorious acts. This name Em∣perour the Romanes first brought into this world, whiche they inuented not for their Princes, but for their Captains gene∣rall. In suche wise, that in Rome he was not intituled Em∣peroure, that was Lorde of the Common wealth, but that was chosen generall of the warre. The Romanes euery yere in the Moneth of Ianuarye, did choose all their officers of the Senate, and in their such election, they did firste ordeyne the high Priest, which they named King: then the Dictator,

then the Consull, then the Tribune of the people, then the Emperor, then the Censor, and then the Edill. By this elec∣tion it may be gathered,* 1.13 that the same which is nowe an Im∣periall dignitie was in those dayes but an office giuen in the moneth of Ianuary, and ended in the moneth of December, Quintus Cincinatus, Fabius Camillus, Marcus Marcellus, Quin¦tus Fabius, Annius Fabricius, Dorcas, Metellus, Gracchus, Sem∣pronius, Scipio the African, and the greate Iulius Caesar: when they did gouerne the Romane hostes, were called Emperors, but afterwards when in the Senate the office was taken a∣way, they were named by their proper names. But after the great battayle of Pharsalie, in whiche Pompey was ouercome and the field remayning to Caesar, it hapned that the cōmon wealth came into the hands of Caesar. The Romanes made re∣quest he should not take vnto himselfe the Title of king, bi∣cause it was odious vnto them, but that he would vse some o∣ther at his liking, vnder which they woulde obey and serue him. Being at that time Captain generall of the Romanes, and therefore then called Emperour, he chose his name,* 1.14 and not the name of Kyng, to doe the Romaines pleasure, in suche wyse, that this greate Prince was the firste of the worlde, that left this name annexed vnto the Emperour. Iu∣lius Caesar beeing deade, Octauius his cousin did succéede him in the Empire, then Tyberius, then Caligula, then Claudius, then Nero, and Vitellius, and so of al the other Princes to this day: The whiche in memorie of the first Emperour be inti∣tuled Augustus, Caesars, and Emperours.

Of the seuen conditions that a good king ought to haue, with an exposition of a text of holie Scripture.

THis name of Kyng béeyng declared, and the inuention of the title Emperour being spoken of (moste Noble Emperoure) it shall be méete that we declare howe a good king ought to gouerne his kyngdome, and howe the good Emperour oughte to rule his

Empire,* 1.15 for, béeing as they are, the two greatest offices in this worlde, it is necessarie that the two beste men in thys world doe vse them. It were great infamie to the person, and no small offence to the common wealth, to behold a man ea∣ring at the plough,* 1.16 that deserueth to reigne, & to sée him reign that deserueth to go to plough. Wherfore (most soueraigne Prince) it is cōuenient you vnderstand, that to be in honor is a thing of smal effect, but to deserue the same is of most great worthinesse. If he which is only a King, be bound to be good, he that is king & Emperour, is he not bound to be good & very good?* 1.17 The euil Princes be ingrate, and forgetful of benefites be they great or little: but the good Princes and the Christian Emperours, recompence euery seruice bountifullye. The Prince that is to God ingrate, and of the seruice they do him vnthankfull, in his person it will be séene: and in his king∣dome it will appeare: bicause all his attempts do falle out confused or with shame. And for that it shal seeme wée speak not of fauour or at large, we will expound vpon the same a certaine authoritie of holie Scripture, wherein is shewed what a one the King ought to be in his own person, and how he ought to gouerne his common wealth, for it is not suffici∣ent that the Prince be a good man, but that his common wealth be good: neyther is it sufficient that the cōmon welth be good, but the Prince also bée good. In Deutero. 18. Chap∣ter,* 1.18 God sayd vnto Moyses, If the people shal aske thée a King, thou shalt giue them one, but beware that the King whiche thou shalt giue them, be natural of the kingdom, that he haue not many horsses, that he turne not the people into Egipte, that he holde not manye wyues, that hée gather not muche treasure, that he bée not proud, and that he reade in Deute∣ron. Vpon euery one of these commaundementes, to speake what myght be sayd, should be, neuer to make an ende, only we will briefly speake of euery of them.

Before all things God cōmaunded that the Kings should be natural of the kingdome, that is to vnderstande, that hée shuld be an Hebrue circūcised, & no Gentile, for that god would

not they shold be gouerned that honoured one God, by those that did beléeue in many Gods. The Prince to whome it a∣perteyneth to gouerne Christians, it is conuenient hée be a good Christian: and the signes of a good Christian are these,* 1.19 when the offences to God he dothe chastise, and his owne hee doth forget. Then is the Prince naturall of the kingdome, when he doth obserue and defend the Gospell of Christ. For to speake according to truth, and also with libertie, he dothe not deserue to be king, which is not zealous of Gods law. God also commaundes the Prince not to haue many horses, that is to say, that he wast not the treasure of the common wealth in superfluous cost, in maynteyning a great house, and in su∣stayning a greate sumptuous trayne of horses, for vnto the Christian Prince it is more sound counsell, rather to séede a few men, than to haue many horses.

Notwithstanding I will not say but that in the houses of Kynges and of high Princes, many must enter,* 1.20 many must serue; many must liue, and many must eate: but that whych is to be reprehēded is this: that many times more is spoiled than is spent. If in the Courtes of Princes there were not so many horses in the stable, so many haukes in the mewe, so many gibers in chambers, so many vagabondes in pallace, and so greate disorder in expences, I am sure,* 1.21 that neyther shoulde they so go ouercharged, eyther their Subiectes so much gréeued. God in commaunding the Prince not to haue many horses, is to forbid him that he vse not excessiue expen∣ces: bycause in déede and in conclusion, they shal giue an ac∣coumpt vnto God of the goodes of the common wealth, not as Lords but as tutors. Also God dothe commaunde that hée which shall be King, do not consent to turne the people intoo Egipt, that is to say, that he do not permit them to commit I∣dolatrie, ne yet to serue King Pharao, for oure good God will that we adore him alone for Lorde, and that we hold hym for our creator. To come out of Egipt is to come out of sinne, to turne into Egipt, is to turne into sin, & for this cause the office of a good Prince is, not only to remunerate the vertuous, and

such as liue wel: but also to chastise the wicked and suche as liue euil.* 1.22 It is no other thing to return into Egypt, but bold∣ly, openly, and manifestly to sinne, the which the good Prince ought not to consent vnto, eyther with any in lyke cace to dispence, bicause the secrete sinnes to God, are to be remit∣ted, but those whiche are manifest the good king ought to cha∣stise. Then doth the Prince suffer any to return into Egipt, when openly he suffreth him to liue in sinne: that is to say, to passe his life in enuious reuenging, to holde by force y^t which is due to an other, to be giuen to folow the lusts of the fleshe, and to dare to renue his olde age into wanton affections, in which the Prince doth so much offend God, that although he be no companion in the fault, yet in the worlde to come, hée shall not escape to be partaker of the payne. For a kyng to gouerne well in his kingdome, oughte to be asmuche feared of the euyll,* 1.23 as beloued of the good. And if by chaunce any bée in his house that is in fauour that is a quareller, or any seruaunt that is vicious, I denie not, but vnto suche a one, he may impart of his goods, but not with his conscience. Also God commaundeth him which shall be king, that he hold not in his companie many women, that is to vnderstand, he shal content himself with his Queene, with whom he is maried, without vngodly acquayntance with any other, for y^e great Princes and mighty potentates doe more offend God, with yll example they giue, than with the faultes they committe. Of Dauid, of Achab, of Assa, and of Ieroboam, the scriptures do not so much complaine of their sinnes, as of the occasion they gaue vnto others to sinne:* 1.24 bicause very seldome wee sée the people in awe of correction when their lorde is vicious. As Princes be more high and also mightyer than the rest, euen so are they more behelde & also more viewed thā others. And for this cause according to my iudgement, if they be not chast yet at the least they should be more secrete. Among the heap of sinnes this maye be one wherewith God is not a little of∣fended. And on the other part, it is wherwith y^e cōmon welth receiueth most sclander: for in cases of honor, none wil y^t they

haunt his house, request his wyfe or defloure his daughter. The writers of histories do much prayse Alexander y^e great, Scipio the Affrican, Marcus Aurelius, the greate Augustus, & the good Traian, which onely vsed not to force women in libertie, but did not so much as touch suche as were their captiues & taken in battaile: and truly they were iustly praised for ver∣tuous mē. For it procedeth of a more noble corage to resist a prepared vice, thā to giue an onset vpō a cāp of great power.

Also God doth commaund him, which shal be king, that he hoord not vp much treasure, that he be not scarce, or a nigard, for the office of the marchant is to kéep, but of a King to giue and to be liberal. In Alexander the great is muche more prai∣sed the largenesse be vsed in giuing, than his potencie in figh∣ting: the which doth clearly appeare, when we wil praise any man, we do not say, he is mightie as Alexander, but franke as Alexander. To the contrary of this, Suetonius writeth of the Emperor Vespasian, the which of pure miserie, nigardship, and couetousnesse, commanded in Rome to be made publike places to receyue vrine, not to kéepe the Citie more swéete, but to the end that they should giue him more rente.

The diuine Plato did counsell the Atheniens in his bookes of a good comon wealth,* 1.25 that the gouernour whiche they had to choose, should be iust in his iudgements, true of his word, con∣stant in that he takes in hand, secrete in that he vnderstan∣deth, large and bountiful in giuing. Princes and great poten∣tates for their power they be feared, and for their magnificēt liberalitie they are beloued. But in déed and in the end, fewe folow the king, not only for that his conditions be good, but bicause they think his giuing is much and verie noble.

Gods commaunding in his lawe, that the Prince shal not hourde vp treasures, is no other thyng to saye, but that all shall serue hym of good wyll, and that bée vse towarde all men of his liberalite: for that many tymes it dothe happen, that the Prince in béeyng vnchearefull in giuyng, it com∣meth to passe in proces that very few haue any mind to gra∣tifie or serue hym. Also God commaunded the kyng that

should gouerne his people, that he should not be proude, tha•• he should always read in Deuteronomie, which is the Booke of the Lawe. And bycause wée haue alreadie made a large discourse, we will leaue the exposition of these two woordes for an other day. There resteth, that we pray vnto the Lord, to giue your Maiestie his grace, and vnto you and vs his glorie, to the which Iesus Christ bring vs. Amen.

A discourse or conference with the Emperour, vpon certayne moste aunciente stampes in Mettalles, the whyche he com∣maunded the Author to reade and to expounde, wherin are touched many antiquities.

S. C. C. R. M.

* 1.26SO greate be the affaires of Princes, and so muche laden wyth studious cares, that hard∣lye remayneth tyme to sléepe, or eate, muche lesse to recreate or ioye themselues with glad∣some pastyme. Oure forces are so small, our iudgemente so weake, oure appetite so varia∣ble, and oure desyres so disordinate, that sometyme it is necessarie, and also profitable, to giue place to the humani∣tie to bée recreated: vppon condition, that the truth bée not putte to flyghte or weakened. The sensualitie makes vs warre with his vices. Reason fyghteth with oure wicked∣nesse. Our bodie contendeth with his appetites. The hart striueth with his desires. For whiche cause it is necessa∣rie to giue place to the one, that they bring vs not to oure ende, and to dissemble with the other, that they leade vs not to despaire.* 1.27 This I saye to your imperiall Maiestie, for the magnificent meanes whiche your excellencie vsed to passe the tyme, whē it pleased you to cōmand that I shuld be called to your chāber & presēce. And for a trouth, y^e recreatiō of prin∣ces ought so to be measured & limited, that thei may recreate without offēce to y^e world. Arsacidas king of the Bactriās, his pastime was to knit fishing nets: of king Artaxerxes, to spin:

And of Arthabanus king of Hircans, to arme for Rats. And of Viantus King of Lidians, to fishe Frogges. And of the Empe∣rour Domitianus, to chase Flies. Princes (hauing their times so limitted, & also of all men so beholden and considered,) that imploy themselues in such pastimes and vanities, we cannot well saye that therin they passe their times, but loose their times. The case is this, that your Maiestie presently after you felt your selfe deliuered of your quartaine, commaunded to be set before you a certaine little table, all full of stamped metals, aswell of gold, as siluer, of brasse, as also of Iron. A thing surely worth the beholding, and much to be praysed. I did not a little delight, in seing your Maiestie take pleasure in beholding the faces of those metalles, in reading the letters they held, and in examining the deuises they did containe. All which thinges might not easely be read, and much lesse vnder∣stood. There were amongst those stamped metalles, certaine that were Gréeke, some Latin, some Caldée, some Arabick, some Gothick, and other some high Dutch: your Maiestie cō∣maunded mée to vew them, reade them, and the most notable to expound: assuredly the commaundement was directed very iustly, and in me more than another moste aptly imployed. For being (as I am) your imperiall Chronicler, it is my part to render accompt of the thinges you shall doubt, and to de∣clare y^e meaning of that which you reade. I haue vewed thē, read them, and studied them: and although some of them be very hard to be read, and very difficult to bée vnderstoode, I will trauayle with such playnesse to declare them, and euery parcell so diligently to examin and distinguish, that not only your Maiestie may vnderstand to reade the stampe, but also comprehend the blason and originall therof.

It is to be vnderstoode, that the Romanes more than all other nations were couetous of riches, and ambitious of ho∣noures: whereby it came to passe, that to haue to spend, and to magnifie their names, they hild warres sixe hundreth and fortie yeares, with all nations and kingdomes. In two things the Romanes did trauell to leaue and perpetuate their me∣morie,

that is to wit, in buildings they made, and in their Coines they did graue or stampe: neither did they allowe the grauing or stamping of any money, but vnto him that had o∣uercome some famous battaile, or done some notable thing in the cōmon wealth. The buildings they most vsed to make, were wals for Cities, cawsies in high waies, Bridges ouer Riuers, fountaines artificially made, statues or greate pic∣tures ouer gates, Bathes for the people, arches for their triumphes, and Temples for their Goddes. Much time pas∣sed in the Empire of Rome, wherein the Romanes had no money but of brasse or of yrō.* 1.28 Whereof it procéedeth that the true and most auncient metalls be not of golde but of Iron. For the first coyne that was made to be melted in Rome of gold, was in the time of Scipio the Africane. The auncient Romanes vsed to stampe or graue on the one side of their mo∣ney, their faces drawne most naturall, and on the other, the kingdomes they had ouercome, the offices they had held, and the lawes they had made.

And for that it shall not séeme that I speake at large or of fauour, it is reason I giue account of all I haue said. The let∣ters of one of these stamped mettals doth say, Pboro. dact. Leg. Your Maiestie hath to vnderstand, that this stampe is the most auncient that euer I saw or redde, which appeareth ve∣ry well by the mettall it is made of, & by the letter it is writ∣ten in: for declaration whereof, it is to be vnderstoode, there haue bin seuen whiche inuented to giue lawes to the world, that is to wit, Moses, that gaue lawes to the Hebrewes, Solon to the Athenians, Licurgus to the Lacedemonians, Asclepius to the Rhodians, Numa Pompilius to the Romanes, and Phoro∣neus to the Aegiptians. This Phoroneus was King of Aegipt be∣fore that Ioseph the sonne of Iacob was borne. And as Diodo∣rus Siculus doth say, he was a King very iuste, vertuous, ho∣nest, and wise. This was he that first gaue lawes in Aegypt, and also (as it is thought) in all the worlde, whereof it dothe procéede, that all Coūsellours and Lawyers of Rome did call the lawes that were iuste, and moste iust, Forum, in memory

of king Phoroneus. And so the letters of this mettall would thus much say: This is King Phoroneus, whiche gaue lawes to the Aegyptians. The letters of the other stampe, Genuci. D. vi. Leg. For the vnderstanding of this stampe, it is to be conside∣red, that the Romanes conceiued so great shame and disdaine of the filthinesse of king Tarquine cōmitted with chast Lucrece, that onely they would not, that in Rome there should be any more kings, but also that the name of king, and the lawes of kings, should for euermore bée banished, and in the common wealth forgotten.

So the Romanes not meaning to obey the lawes they had receiued of their good King Numa Pompilius, sent a moste so∣lemne imbassage to Grecia, to bring them the lawes that the Philosopher Solon had giuen to the Athenians. Which being brought to Rome accepted, and obserued, were afterwards in∣tituled the lawes of the twelue tables. The Embassadours that were sent to bring these lawes from Greece, were ten moste sapient Romanes, whose names are Apius, Genutius, Sextus, Veturius, Iulius, Mannilius, Sulpicius, Curius, Romulus, Postumus: and bicause Genutius was one of those ten notable men, & for that great act so famous, he stāped those words on the one side of his money. The whiche would say: this is the Consull Genutius, one of the ten men of Rome, that was sent for the lawes of Greece. The words of the other stamp following are Con, Quir, Ius, Mos, Le, Obs. To explane these words which are very darke, it is to be vnderstood, that al the lawes of this world, are reduced frō thrée maner of lawes, which is to wit,* 1.29 Ius naturale, lex condita, & mos antiquus. That whiche in the old time was called the Law of Nature, is, That thou wish not for another, which thou wilt not for thy self: & also to shunne euil, & approch to do wel, which is not to be learned by lesson, but by reason. Lex condita are the lawes that kings haue made in their Kingdomes, and Emperours in their Empires: Some of the which consiste in Reason, and other some in o∣pinion. Mos antiquus is, when a Custome by little and little is brought in amongst the people: the force whereof depen∣deth

vpon the well or euill obseruing thereof. Of the aboue sayd it is to be gathered, wée call Ius naturale the lawe whiche reason doth direct: we name Lex Condita, whiche is ordayned and written: and we terme Mos antiquus, the custome of long time vsed, and presently obserued: this presupposed the let∣ters of this stampe do signifie,* 1.30 This is the Consull Quirinus, the which in the time of his Consulship, did obserue, and caused to be obserued, that which right requireth, lawe commaundeth, and custome hath brought in.

The wordes of the other stampe are these: Popil. Con. Iu. Mill. fecc. for the vnderstanding of these wordes is to be vn∣derstood, that the auncient Lawyers did ordaine seuen man∣ner of Lawes, which is to wit, Ius gentium, Ius ciuile, Ius consu∣laris, Ius publicum, Ius quiritum, Ius militare, & Ius magistratum.

In the old time, they did call Ius Gentium, to occupie that which had no owner, to defende the Countrey, to die for the libertie, to endeuer to possesse more than others, and to be of more abilitie than the rest. This was named ius Gentium, by∣cause in all Kingdomes and Nations, Greekes, Latines, and Barbarians, this manner of liuing was vsed and obserued.

Ius Ciuile was the order and manner in old dayes, to forme their plees in lawe, that is to wit, to cite, aunswere, accuse, proue, denie, alledge, relate, to giue sentence, and to execute: to the end eche one might obtaine by iustice, that which was taken by force.

Ius Consulare, was, such orders, as the Consuls of Rome did vse amongst themselues, for themselues: which is to say, of what number they should bée, what garments they should weare,* 1.31 what company they should kéepe, where they should congregate, and how many houres they should assemble, of what things they should conferre, howe they should liue, and to how much goods they should attaine.

This Ius Consulare did serue but for the Romane Consuls that were resident in Rome, for notwithstanding there were Consuls in Capua, they would not consent they should liue as those of the Senate of Rome.

Ius Quiritum, was the lawes and priuiledges that the Ro∣mane Gentlemen did vse or enioy, that did liue within the cō∣passe of Rome, or had the priuiledge of a Romane Gentleman: which is to say, that the Gentlemē and knights of Rome had foure names: that is to vnderstand, Patricios, Veteranos, Milites, & Quirites. The which foure names, according to the varietie of the time was giuen them.

The priuiledge or law Quiritum, that the Knights of Rome enioyed, was, that they might sit in the tēples, thei might not be arested for debt, or pay for lodging, or prouēder where they went, to be maintained by the cōmon treasure if they became poore, to make a testament without witnesse, not to be accused but in Rome, to pay no impost in time of tribut, and also that they might be buried in an highe Tombe. All these prehemi∣nences no gentleman did enioy, but only such as were Citi∣zens of Rome.

Ius Publicum, was the ordinances and constitutious, that euery people in particular did vse amongst themselues and for themselues: that is to saye, how they should repaire their walles, conserue their waters, measure their streates, build their houses, prouide necessary thinges, to haue store houses, to gather money, to make their fifes, to watche their cities. They called these ordinances Ius Publicum, because they were made by all, and obserued by all.

Ius Militare, was the lawes that the anciēt Romains made,* 1.32 for the times that kingdoms did breake peace, and entred in∣to warres one with the other, bicause they estemed muche to be wise in gouernment, and to fight as men determined in or∣der. The lawes of Ius militare were how to proclaime warres, to confirme peace, to take truce, to leuie their souldiours, too pay their Campe, to giue order for their watches, too make their trenches, to giue battaile, to retire their host, to redéeme prisoners, and how the Conquerours should triumphe.

They called these lawes Ius militare, which is to say, the or∣der of Knightes, because they serued no further, but too giue order vnto those that did follow the warres, and with armes

did defend the common wealth.

Comming now to the exposition of the stampe, it is too be vnderstood, y^t in the daies of the first Romane Dictator Quintus Cincinatus, ther was also in Rome a certain Romain Consull named Popilius Vastus, a man very well learned, and no lesse expert in armes. This Consul Popilius made lawes to be ob∣serued in warres, and gaue it in stampe in his money: that which is conteyned in the stampe before rehersed in the let∣ters,* 1.33 hath this signification: This is the Consull Popilius, which made lawes for the captaines, that should goe to the warres for de∣fence of the common wealth.

Also it may please your Maiestie to vnderstand, that if any Prince or Romane Consull, did chaunce to make any law ei∣ther necessary or very profitable for the people, they did vse for custome, to entitle that lawe by the name of him that did inuent and ordaine the same: for that in the worldes to come it might bée knowen who was the author therof, and also when it was made. After this maner, the lawe that they made to eate with dores open, was called Caesaria. The lawe that Pompey made too giue tutors to Orphans, was named Pompeia. The lawe that Cornelius made for parting of fields, was intituled Cornelia. The law that Augustus made to take no tribute but for the profit of the cōmon wealth, was writ∣tē Augusta. The law that the Cōsul Falcidias made, that none might buy the dowry of any other mans wife, was nomina∣ted Falcidia. The law that the Dictator Aquilius made, that no Romāe should be put to death within Rome, was cleped Aqui∣lia. The lawe that the Censor Sempronius made, that none might disinherit his son, but if he were a traytor to the Em∣pire of Rome, was termed Sempronia.

The wordes do followe of the other stampe Rusti, prie, tris, ple. For the vnderstanding of these wordes, it is to be noted, that y^e order whiche the Romanes did vse in creating dignities and offices, was as followeth: First they had Kyngs, after∣ward Decemuiri, then Triumuiri, after that Consulles, and thē Censores, then Dictators, afterwardes Tribunes, and lastely

Emperoures. Of their Kinges there were but seuen, their De∣cemuiri endured ten yeares, their Triumuri continued fortie yeres, their Consulls foure hundreth thirtie and foure yeres, their Censor one yere, their Dictator halfe a yere: their Tri∣bune thrée yeres. That which wée call the procurer of the people, the auncient Romanes did name the Tribune of the people, whose office was, euery day to enter into the Senate, and to procure the causes of the people: and in such businesse as did not like him, he had authoritie to stand for the poore, and to resist the Senators. And for that the office of Tribune was alwaies against the Senate, and thereby passed his life in perill, it was a law made and capitulate by the Lawyers and Senators, that what soeuer man or woman did violent∣ly prease to his person or vnto his garment to offend him, publikely they cut off his head.

And be it knowne to your Maiestie,* 1.34 that many Romane Princes did procure to be chosen Tribune of the people, not for the interest they receiued by that dignitie, but for the se∣curitie they had with the same: bycause not only they might not kill them, either in their clothes so much as touch them. The first Tribune that was in Rome was a certaine Romane named Rusticius, a man of a very sincere life, and merueilous zealous of his common wealth. This Rusticuis was, and this dignity created, betwixt the first and the second Punick bat∣tails, in the time that Silla and Marius did leade great bands in Rome, and did spoile the common wealth. Thus much the letters of the stampe would say, This is the good Consull Ru∣sticius the which was the first Tribune that was in the Empire of Rome. Your Maiestie amongst these hath many other stāpes, the whiche being easie and facile to reade, and cleare to vn∣derstand, I shall not néede to spende the time too expound them.

A certaine relation vnto Queene Germana, declaring the life and lawes of the Philosopher Licurgus.

MOst high and serene Lady, this Sunday past, after I had preached before your highnesse the Sermon of the destruction of Ierusalem, ye commaūded I should recite, and also giue in writing, who was that great Philosopher Licurgus, whose life I praysed, & whose lawes I alledged. In repayment of my trauell, and to binde me the more vnto your seruice, you commaunded I shoulde dine at your table, and also gaue me a rich clocke for my studie. For so small a matter as your highnesse doth commaund, neither it needed ye should feast me, either giue me so great rewards: for that I attaine more honour and bountie in that ye com∣maund, than your highnesse doth receiue seruice in the thing I shall accomplish.* 1.35 To say the truth, I had thought rather yée had slept in the sermon (the curtains drawne) but since ye cō∣maund, I shall recite that whiche I sayd of the Philosopher Licurgus, it is a signe ye heard the whole Sermon, and also noted the same. And since it pleaseth your highnesse, that the Ladies and dames that serue you, and the gallants & Cour∣tiers that attend vpon you be present at this communicatiō, that ye commaund them that they be not gibing, either ma∣king of signes: for they haue sworne to trouble me, or to put me from my matter. But cōming to the purpose, it is to wit, y^t in the first reignes of this world, whē Sardanapalus reigned in Assiria, Osias in Iury, Tesplus in Macedonia, Phocas amongst the Greekes, Alchimus amongst the Latins, Arthabanes amōgst the Aegyptians, Licurgus was borne amōgst the Lacedemoniās.

This good Licurgus was iointly Philosopher and King: & King and Philosopher: bicause in those Golden times, either Philosophers did gouerne, eyther else Gouernours did vse Philosophie.* 1.36 Plutarche doth say of this Licurgus, that he was low of stature, pale of colour, a friend of silence, an enemie of vaine talke: a man of small health, & of great vertue. He was

neuer noted of dishonestie, he neuer troubled the common welth, he did neuer reuēge iniury, he did neuer thing against iustice, either against any man did vse malicious wordes. He was in féeding tēperate, in drinking sober, in giuing liberall, in receiuing of consideration, in sleeping short, in his speache reposed, in businesse affable, in hearing patient, prompt in ex∣pedition, gentle in chastisement, and benigne in pardoning. Being a child was brought vp in Thebes, being a yong mā he did studie in Athens, and in the time of more yéeres he passed into the great India, & afterwards being old was king of y^e La∣cedemonians, which also were called Spartans, which of nation were Greekes, and of condicion very barbarous. For excel∣lencie, it is recounted of him, that they neuer saw him idle, he neuer dranke wine, neuer trauailed on horsebacke, neuer chid with any man, neuer did hurt to his enemies, neither at any time was ingrate to his friends. He himself wente to the temples, he himself did offer the Sacrifices, he himself did reade in scholes, he himselfe did heare complaints, he himself gaue sentēce in causes of the law, he himself did cause to giue chastisement to offenders. This Licurgus was of a valiant mind in warres, of great deuise in time of perill, certaine in things determined, seuere with rebels, in sodaine assaults of great readinesse, affable with offenders, & a mortal enemie of vagabonds. They say that this Philosopher did inuent the Olimpiades, whiche were certaine playes vsed euery fourth yéere in the mountaine Olimpus, to the ende that all shoulde giue themselues to studie, or to learne some Art, bicause in that assembly which there they vsed, euery man made a proofe of his knowledge, and the sprite that was giuen him. Licur∣gus was the first that gaue lawes to the Spartans, which after∣wards were called Lacedemonians: whiche is to vnderstand, before Solon, and Numa Pompilius.

And also it is written of him, that he was the first that in∣uented in Greece, to haue publique or cōmon houses founded at the charges of the common wealth, & also endewed, where the sicke might be cured, & the poore refreshed. Before the days

of Licurgus, the Lacedemonians were a people very absolute, & also dissolute: for which cause y^e good Philosopher did passe im∣mesurable trauels, & no lesse perils amongst thē, before they would be gouerned by a King, or liue vnder a law. On a cer∣taine day before al the people, he tooke two little dogges new whelped, the one of the which he fedde in his own house very faire & fat: the other he cōmanded to be brought vp in a coun∣trey house,* 1.37 with hunger, & to vse the fields. These dogs being thus brought vp, he cōmaunded thē to be brought to the mar∣ket place, in the presence of the whole multitude, & throwing before them a liue Hare, & a great péece of flesh: presently the countrey dog ran after the Hare, and the pampered dogge to the fleshe. Then said Licurgus, you are witnesses that these two dogges were whelpt in one day and in one howre, in one place, of one Syre & Dam. And for that the one was brought vp in the field, he ran after the Hare: and the other that was brought vp in idlenesse, ran to his meat. Beléeue me ye La∣cedemoniās,* 1.38 & be out of doubt, that to proue good & vertuous, it importeth muche, from the infancie to bée well gouerned and brought vp: for we retaine much more of y^e customes wher∣with we be bred, thē of y^e inclinatiōs wherwith we be borne.

Licurgus comming to his old age, commaunded to call all the Noble and most principal of his kingdome, and being ga∣thered togither at the dores of his Temple, said these wordes: I haue knowen many yéeres since, how ye goe complayning and blaming me and my lawes, affirming & swearing that they are very sharpe to be obserued, and intollerable to be ac∣complished, and that iointly by my death there may end both the law and the law giuer, I will goe to the Ile of Delphos, to consulte with the God Apollo, if these my lawes be iust or vn∣iust, and by the same God I do sweare, to stand to that which he shal say, and to performe what he shall commaund. Ther∣fore, oh ye Lacedemonians, it is conuenient, that all you ioint∣ly do sweare in this holy temple, that vntill I returne either aliue or dead from the God Apollo, you shall not breake the lawes that you haue sworne, the good God Apollo being wit∣nesse.

This good King and Philosopher departed, minding neuer to returne from the Ile of Delphos, and prouided before he should die, a great chest of lead, wherin they should enclose him, and cast him into the depth of the Sea, at the instant that his life should depart.

Very worthy is Licurgus to be praysed, in that he woulde banish himselfe from his owne Countrey, vnto the ende his common wealth should remaine bound vnto good Lawes.

And the Lacedemonians are much to be commended, that haue so kept their othe, as if Licurgus were aliue. Behold most serene Lady, the life that the philosopher led. Now we shal re∣cite the lawes he did ordaine, the which although they were many and very good, yet we shall here repete but some.

The lawes that Licurgus gaue to the Lacedemonians.

LIcurgus did ordaine and commaunde, that all the hilles, pastures and méedes, houses & inheritances should be parted, and equally deuided, to auoide ty∣rauntes for being to riche, and the poore from com∣plaints. He did ordaine and commaund, that if any were vi∣cious or idle in tilling his land, or in vsing his inheritance, that hée shoulde not sell his lande to another, without selling himself to be slaue therewith. All the Gold, the Siluer, the Copper, the Tinne, and the Lead, he did giue to the Temples where his Gods were worshipped, onely he did reserue the mettal of yron, wherwith the people of his kingdome might eare their fieldes, and resist their enimies. The children that were borne fooles, dumbe, blinde, deafe, counterfet or lame, he commaunded their fathers to commend them to be sacrifised, saying, that in their creation, either the Gods were negligent, or else nature erred. Also amongst them he did for∣bid bāqueting, affirming, that men lost there their iudgemēt with drinking, their grauitie with babling, and their health with eating. He did permit, that nine persons should feaste togither, in the reuerence of the nine Muses: but vpon this cōdition, that if they would talke, they should drink no wine,

and if they vsed silence, they gaue them wine to drinke.

Their Vines were not planted to drinke in time of health, but to cure in tyme of sicknesse: in such wise, that they sold not wine in Tauernes, but in Apotecaries shoppes. They held scholes for children to learne, but no studies to learne Philo∣sophie: for he held opinion, that such as gouerne the common wealth, ought not too bée of those that reade Philosophie, but such as did performe it in manner of life, neither did they cō∣sent that any Coyne shold bée currant amongst them, but did make exchange, wheat for bread, wine for cloth, cloth for oile, and so of all other things, in such wise they chāged, but bought not. From the returne of the battell Marathon, certaine Lace∣demonian souldiours brought home money coyned, wherefore the Magistrates of the commō wealth determined to drown the money, and to hang the men. Alcamenus and Theopontus, two famous Kings that were before Licurgus receiued aun∣swere frō the Oracle of Apollo, that only for the vice of coue∣tousnesse their common wealth should be destroyed. Also a∣mongst them, the vse of nauigation was forbidden, as well for the wars as for their traffike, bicause they held opinion, that marriners did neuer serue GOD, neither were subiect too lawes. Also to no woman did they giue anything in mariage: wherefore, commonly the women did séeke the men of most wealth: and the men did chuse the women of moste vertue. In suche sort, that amongst the Lacedemonians, none were left vnmaried for their pouertie, but for their lewdnesse and want of vertue.

As concerning any crafts man that did liue in their com∣mon wealth, he must exercise his Art according to the aunci∣ent fashion of the countrey. And if it chaunced any to attempt any noueltie, or new inuention, they did banishe the Master and abolishe the deuise. Fiue things they were cōmaunded to obserue, the whiche were publikly cried with a loude voyce euery day, after this maner.

* 1.39It is cōmaunded by the Senat of Licaonia, y^t thou shalt beare honour and reuerence to the Goddes, that thou be pacient in

aduersities, that thou giue obedience vnto the Iudges, that thou accustome thy self to trauaile, that thou retorne from the warres victorious, eyther els dead. In one whole yere they might not weare but one new garment, and if any man ne∣ded any other garment, he must not only haue leaue, but also shew wherwith he must buy the same.* 1.40 In certaine prefixed times the Iudges did search the houses, and if they by chaunce found spyld bread, rotten wheat, garments mothe eaten, flesh corrupted, and such other things spoiled, they were not onely reprehended, but publikely whipped: aduertising the imploy∣ment therof much more cōuenient to the reliefe of the poore, than vtterly to be lost. Being demaūded why he had forbiddē hote houses, bathes, and oyntments, aunswered:* 1.41 that bathes did inféeble the vigor and strength of the members, and oynt∣ments did reuiue vices. Ambre grece, Muske, Storax, Siuet, Be∣niamim, and all kind of perfumes amongst them were forbid∣den: affirming it to be no lesse infamy for a man to be perfu∣med, than for a woman to be manifestly wicked.

And vntill y^e time that men were maried, or of thirtie yeres of age, they did neuer féede or take repast but standing, neither sléepe but vpon the leaues of Canes: giuing therin to vnder∣stand, to auoyd both delaye and excesse of sléepe, and of meate.* 1.42 The auncient men had libertie to enquire of yong men that passed by, whither goest thou? and what to doe? And if they aunswered to do any good thing, they let them passe, but if o∣therwise, the old mē might both reprehend, & also detaine thē.

If any yong man committed any dishonesty in the presēce of an olde man, without let or reprehension, he himself was chastised, and the yong man absolued. And if it fortuned any man to be taken for an offender, in the market place he was set aloft vppon a Piller, where he ended his miserable daies: holding opinion, to be inhumaine to kil a man with Iron, but to permit him to languish that is wicked, to be a thing moste iust. The disobedient sonne was chastised, and afterwardes disenherited. When any yong man did encounter with an old man, if he were set, he did rise & salute him: and if he were

alone,* 1.43 hée did accompany him, and if he were negligent here∣in, the Iudges did chasten him, and the people did reprehend him. Their communaltie and fraternitie was so great, that the nature of their children, the order of their seruants, and the commaundement of their slaues were indifferēt.* 1.44 It was permitted amongst them to vse theftes, not that they had e∣stimation therof, but to yéeld vnto men skill, aduise, and polli∣cie. For if by chaunce he were taken with the maner, he was openly punished: also the cause of the permission therof was, to moue men to be carefull of their goods. In their féeding and diet they were very sober and temperate, taking refection only to liue, and to sustaine life. For it was Liourgus opinion, that the fat & gluttonous man, was of grosse iudgement, and of vnable and vnhealthy bodie. They vsed to sing with great delight, and no smal friends of musicall instruments, for they held opinion, that the swéetenesse of musicke did recreat the spirites, and the heart did vndertake to loue. They vsed no o∣ther songes but such as were inuented to the praise of glori∣ous personages, that finished their dayes in great noblenesse: or els to the disprayse of the wicked. They might not permit or endure in their musicke, more than in the rest, any newe inuention.* 1.45 Therpandar, in those dayes the most famous musi∣tian, for that he inuented to adde an other string to a certaine Instrument, was banished, and his instrument broken too shiuers. To auoid the great superstitions that in aunciēt time were vsed in building of Sepulchers,* 1.46 it was forbiddē to bury any more in the fieldes, but neare vnto the Church. It was not permitted vnto any person too raise vp any sumptuous Sepulcher, but vnto such, as in time of peace did gouerne the common wealth, or valiantly had died in the warres. The Lacedemonians were so great enemies to admit nouelties in their common wealth, that they neither permitted straungers to enter, or their people to wander into straunge countries: doubting to bée entangled with new fashions and customes. The father that gaue no learning vntoo his childe in his youthe, did lose that succour that in his old age was due vn∣to

him. Three things were in great estimation among them, whiche is to wit: slaues too trauell, Houndes to hunt, and horse for the warres. As touching thinges to be eaten, I meane fruite, herbes, and rootes, was common to all men to eat at full, but not to cary to their houses. Their apparell, which they vsed too weare in the warres, was died with the iuyce of Grapes, to the end the bloud of the maimed, should be no dismay to the rest. The prayers they made vnto their Goddes, was to entreat them, to dissemble their iniuries, and to remunerate their seruice they did vnto them.

When they went to the warres, they did sacrifice a For vnto the God Mars, and at the instant to giue battayle, they did sacrifice an Oxe: To giue the Captaine to vnderstand, that they ought not onely to be strong as a Bull, but also sut∣tle, wise, and prouident as a Fox. They painted their God∣des, some with a blunt launce, and other some with a naked sword: to giue aduertisment, that the Goddes did chastise some, and but threaten others. Their vsage was not to craue any thing of their Goddes, that was not of importance: affir∣ming that al other smal matters, were to be obtained by mās industrie. Iustice was so much obserued amongst them, that they vsed no lockes to their Coffers, neither boltes to their doores. It was not permitted amongst them, that one man should vse many faculties or occupations: And for that the Philosopher Chrisiphont, reported in his Oration, that in eue∣ry Art he knew somewhat, they banished him, affirming that he could not proue a perfect Philosopher, that studied Scien∣ces generall.

A letter vnto Sir Alonso Manrique, Archbishop of Ciuile, and to Sir Antonio Manrique, Duke of Naiara, for that they did chuse the Authour, for Iudge in a contention. A matter very nota∣ble.

MOst high & mighty Princes, sir Iohn Mārique gaue me ij-letters frō your honors, signed & sealed wherin you gaue me to vnderstād how you had chosē me for your cēsor & iudge

vpon a certain doubt wherin both haue doubted, and suffici∣ently contended. I my Lordes, doe accept the same, and doe declare my selfe for your Iudge in this behalfe, vpon such cō∣dition, that neither of you appeale from the sentence, and fur∣ther, that yée paye the costes of the processe, and the penaltie ye shall be condemned in. But first I do note and blame your Honours, and in a manner reprehend, that suche contention shoulde rise betwixt you, for that betwene so high personages, conference is admitted, but contention vtterly condemned. Noblenesse and contētion did neuer accompanie in one gene∣rous personage, which is not so in the ignorant & contendor, hauing betwéene themselues so great parentage.* 1.47 It is conue∣nient to the Philosophers, to proue, to prosecute, and to maintaine all that whiche they shall speake: but to the good Knight it doth not appertaine to contend, but to defend. The Knight that is of a noble minde,* 1.48 valiant, and of courage, his choler is neuer inflamed, but in drawing of his sworde. For he proueth very seldome valiant, that is giuen to be a brabler.

But cōming to the purpose, your Honours do write, that all your contention hath risen for the verifying, and the vn∣derstanding, which of these two Cities hath bene Numantia: that is to wit, Ciquentia, or else Monviedro. Likewise you write, you haue not onely contended, but also haue waged a good Mule for him in whose fauour the sentence shall be gi∣uen. Speaking with such consideration as is due to so highe personages, if the one do no better vnderstand to praye, and the other to giue battell, than ye vnderstand in Chronicles and auncient histories, in vaine is the one Archbishop of Ci∣uile, and the other Duke of Naiara.

* 1.49Howe much distance is betwixte Helia and Thiro, from Bizantio to Mephis, from Rome to Carthage, from Agripina to Gades: so much is betwixt the citie of Numantia and Sagunto: bicause the most auncient Numantia: was founded in Castile: and the generouse citie of Sagunto, was situate néere to Va∣lentia. Numantia & Sagunto were two most ancient & famous

Cities, and very much renoumed and celebrate in Spaine: in opinions contrary, in kingdomes diuers, in situations diffe∣rent, in names discordant, and also in conditions variable: for Sagunto was founded of the Greekes, and Numantia of the Romanes. The Citie of Sagunto was alwayes friend and al∣lied with the Romanes, & mortall enimie to the Carthagians. But the Citie of Numantia, neither was friend to the one, or confederate with the other: for they neuer gaue obediēce to any, but alwaies made a Seigniory of it selfe.

The seate of the Citie of Sagunto, was foure leagues from Valentia, where is now Monviedro: & he that shall say, that, which we call now in Castile Ciguenca, was in time paste the Citie Sagunto: it shall be because he dreamed it, & not to haue read it. Being Inquisitor of Valentia, I was many times at Monviedro, as well to visite the Christians, as to baptise the Moores. And considering the sharpnesse of the place, the anti∣quitie of the walles, the greatnesse of the colledge, the distāce from the Sea, the statelinesse of the buildings, and the mon∣strousenesse of the sepulchers, there is none, but he may vn∣derstand that to be Monviedro, which was Sagunto, and that which was Sagunto is now Monviedro. In the fields of Mon∣viedro and in the ruinous buildings that be there at these daies, there are found many stones ingrauē, and many aun∣cient Epitaphes of the Hannibals, & of the Asdrubals that died there in the siege of Sagunto: the which were two linages of Carthage, very notable of bloud, and also famous in armes. Neare to Monviedro there is a certaine place, that in those daies was called Turditanos, & is now named Torres torres: & for that they were mortall enemies of the Saguntines, Hanni∣ball put himself in with them, and from thence did make his batterie, & did throw downe & burne the citie of Sagunto: not succoured then of the Romanes, or euer after reedified.

Behold here my Lords, how your contention was, which was Sagunto, and not whiche was Numantia: So that Soria and Samorra doth rather giue doubte, whiche was Numantia, and Monviedro and Sigentia, which was Sagunto. But the re∣solution

and conclusion of all the aforesayde, considering the merites of the processe, and what eyther partie hath alledged for him selfe, I doe say and declare by my definitiue sentence, that the Archbishop of Ciuile, did faile, and the Duke of Naiara did erre: in the thing that both did contend, and lay their wa∣ger. And I condemne either of them in a good Mule, to be em∣ployed vpon him that shall declare whiche was the greate Numantia.

I my Lordes will now recount and declare whiche was that Citie Numantia, and also say, who was the founder ther∣of, where it was fōnded, how it was founded, and what time it lasted, and also how it was destroyed, for that it is an histo∣ry very delectable to read, worthie to be vnderstood, pleasant to recount, and lamentable to heare.

VVhich was the great Citie Numantia in Spaine.

THe Citie of Numantia, was founded by Nu∣ma Pompilius,* 1.50 the second king of Romanes, in the fiftie and eight yeere after the foundation of Rome, and in the eightenth yeare of his raigne, in suche sorte, for that the founder thereof was called Numa, it was named Nu∣mantia. In the old time they did much vse to name their Ci∣ties they builded by their owne proper names, as Ierusa∣lem of Salem, Antioche of Antiochus, Constantinople of Con∣stantine: Alexandria of Alexander, Rome of Romulus, and Nu∣mantia of Numa. Onely seuen Kings there were of Romanes: The first of the which, was Romulus, & the seuenth was Tar∣quine, of these seuen the moste excellent of them all was this Numa Pompilius, for he was the first that brought the Goddes into Rome, he did inclose the vestall Virgins, builded the tem∣ples, and gaue lawes to the Romanes. The situation of this Citie was neare the riuer of Dwero, and not farre from the head of the same, and it was set vpon the heigth of an hill, and this heigth was not of a Rocke, but vpon a certaine plaine.

Neither was it towred within, nor walled without, onel•• it was compassed about with a broade déepe disch•…•… was inha∣bited with more than fiue, and lesse than sixe thousand house∣holds, two partes of the which did follow the warres, and the third parte their tillage and labour. Amongst them exercise was much praised, and idlenesse greatly condemne, & which is more, not couetous of goods, and yet very ambitious of ho∣nour. The Numantins of their naturall cōdition, were more flegmatike than colericke, suffring, dissembling, suttle, and of great actiuitie: in such wise that that whiche they did at one time dissemble, at another they did reuenge. In their Citie there was but one crafts man, & that was the Smith: Gold∣smiths, Silkworkers, Drapers, Fruters, Tauerners, Fish∣mongers, Butchers, & such like, they would not cōsent to liue amongst them: For al such things euery mā ought to haue in his owne house, & not to séeke them in the common wealth.

They were so valiant, and so doubtie, in the affayres of warre, that they neuer saw any Numantine turne his barke,* 1.51 or receiue any wound in the same, in such wise that they did rather determine to die than to flée. They could not go a war∣fare without licence of their common wealth, and those also must goe altogether and followe one quarell, for otherwise if one Numantine did kill another Numantine, the murtherer afterwards was put to death by the common wealth. Foure kind of people the Romanes had very fierce to tame, and very warlike to fight, that is to wit, the Mirmidones whiche were those of Merida, the Gauditanes, whiche were those of Ca∣lis, the Saguntines, whiche were those of Monviedro, and the Numantines, whiche were those of Soria. The difference a∣mongst these was, that the Mirmidons were strong, they of Calis valiant, the Saguntines fortunate, but the Numantines were strong, valiant, and fortunate. Fabatus, Metellus, Serto∣rius, Pompeius, Caesar, Sextus Patroclus, & all the other Romane Captaines, that by the space of one hundred and foure score yéeres held warres in Spaine, did neuer conquere the Numan∣tins, neither at any time had to doe with them.

Amongst all the Cities of this world, onely Numantia did neuer acknowledge hir better, or kisse the hands of any other for lord. This Numantia was somewhat Rockie, halfe cōpas∣sed, with out-towers, not very well inhabited, and lesse riche. With all this, none durst hold hir for enemie, but for confe∣derate: and this was the cause, for that the Fortune of the Numantins was much more than the power of the Romanes. In the warres betwene Rome and Carthage, Caesar and Pom∣pey, Silla and Marius, there was no King, or kingdome in the world, that did not follow one of those partes and against the other did not fight, except the proude Numantia: which always made aunswere to those that did persuade hir to followe their opiniō, that, not she of others, but others of hir, ought to make a head. In the first Punick warres, neuer would the Numan∣tines follow the Carthaginiās, or fauour the Romanes: for which occasion (or too say better) without any occasion, the Romanes determined to make warre vpon the Numantins, not for anye feare they had of their power, but for enuie of their great for∣tune. Fouretene yeares continually, the Romanes besieged the Numantins,* 1.52 in which great was the hurt the Numantins re∣ceiued, but much more meruelous of the Romane Captaines that there died. There were slaine in that Numantine warre Caius Crispus, Trebellius, Pindarus, Rufus, Venustus, Eskaurus, Paulus Pilos, Cincinatus, and Drusius, nine Consuls that were very famous, and Captaines of much experience. These nine Consuls being slaine,* 1.53 with an infinite number of Romanes, it happened in the twelfth yere of the siege of Numantia, that a Romane Captaine named Cneius Fabricius, did ordaine and capitulate with the Numantins, that they and the Romanes for euermore should be friendes,* 1.54 and in perpetual confederation. And in the meane time, while they sent aduertisement therof to Rome, they confirmed a long truce. But the Romanes vn∣derstāding the whole order, to be greatly to the honour of the Numantins, and to the perpetuall infamie of the Romanes, they commaunded the Consulles throte to bée cut, and to prosecute the warres. Then in the yere following, which was the thir∣tenth

of the siege, the Romans did sende the Consull Scipio with a newe armie to Numantia, the whiche being come, the first thing he did, was to deliuer the Campe from all maner men that were vnprofitable, and women that were leude of disposition: saying that in greate armies more hurte is done with prepared vices, than with determined enimies. A yere and seuen monethes was Scipio at the siege of Numantia,* 1.55 all which time he neuer gaue battaile or skirmish, but only gaue order that no succour might come at them, or vitayles might enter to them. When a certain Captaine demaunded of Sci∣pio, why he did not skirmish with those that came foorth, nei∣ther fight with them within? He made answer: Numantia is so fortunate, & the Numantins so luckie, that we must rather think their fortune to come to an end, than hope to ouercome them. Many times the Numantins did sallie to fight wyth the new Romaines, and it hapned one daye, that there passed be∣twixt them so bloudie a skirmishe, that in an other place, it might be counted for a battaile. And in the end, the Romanes receyued suche foyle, that if the fortune of Scipio had not hol∣pen, that day the name of Rome had ended in Spaine. Scipio considering the Numantins to encrease in pride, and the Ro∣maines to discourage, aduised to retire his campe more than a myle from the citie: bicause they should giue no attempt vp∣on the sodaine, and to auoyde by the néernesse of the place, the hurts that might happen. But in the end the Numantins wā∣ting vitayles, and hauing lost many of their men, did ordeyn amongst themselues, and did make a vowe vnto their gods, no day to breake their faste, but with the fleshe of Romaines,* 1.56 neither to drinke water or wyne, before they had tasted and dronken the bloud of some enimie they had slayne. A mon∣strous thyng then to sée, as it is nowe to heare, that euen so the Numantins euery daye went in chase of Romanes, as hun∣ters doe in hunting Coneys: and with as great apetite they did eate and drinke the flesh and bloud of enimies, as if it had bin shoulders and loynes of mutton.

Verie greate were the hurtes that euery day the Con∣sul

Scipio receiued in y^e stege, bicause the Numantins like most fierce beastes,* 1.57 with Romanes bloud imbrued, did not fighte as enimies, but as men desperate. Among the Numantines hée was holden excused that tooke any Romane alyue, and muche lesse to giue him a buriall. For at the houre that anye were slaine, they did take hym, slay him, quarter him, and in the shambles did waigh him. In suche wise, that a Romane was more (being dead) than alyue and raunsomed. Verie manie tymes Scipio was perswaded, prayed, and importunated of his captaines to raise his siege and to •…•…urue to Rome: but hée would neuer doe it, neyther could in any wise abide to heare of it: for at his comming out of Rome, a Nigromantik priest, did aduertise him, that he should not dismay, neither retyre from that conquest, although in the same he shoulde passe im∣measurable perilles, bicause the goddes had determined that ende of the fortunate Numantia, shoulde be the beginning of all his glorie.

Howe Scipio dyd take Numantia.

SCipio perceiuyng the Numantins not to be ouercome by prayers, neyther by armes, he caused to be made (in compasse of the citie) a stately ditche, the which was in depth seuē fadoms, and in bredth fiue: in such sorte, that to the discomfortable Numantins) nei∣ther mighte there any vitayles en∣ter, that they mighte eate, neither they come out with the enimies to fighte. Many times did the Consull Scipio requeste the Numantines to commende themselues to the clemencie of Rome, and that they shoulde credit and giue faithe vnto his words,* 1.58 to which thyngs they made answere: that since they had liued thrée hundred and thirtie eight yeres free, they would not now die slaues. Great cryes did the women giue within the citie, greate clamoures

did the Priestes make vnto their Gods, with great and loude voyces did the men exclame vpon Scipio, that he should lette them out to fight as men of worthynesse, and not to kill them with hunger like wretches. And said more, thou (oh Scpio) be∣ing a yong man of Rome, valiant and bolde, considerest not what thou dost, neyther do they counsel thée what thou ough∣test to doe. For to kéepe vs in as thou doest, is but a pollicie of warre, but if thou shouldest ouercome vs in battel, it shold be for thée an immorall glorie. But in the ende the Numan∣tins séeing them selues so infamously and miserably inclosed, and that now their vitayles fayled them, the moste strongest did ioyne themselues together, and killed al the old men,* 1.59 chil∣dren and women, and did take all the riches of the Citie and of the temples, and heaped them vp in the market place, and gaue fire to all partes of the Citie, and poysoned themsel∣ues, in suche wise, that the Temples, the houses, the riches, and the persons of Numātia ended all in one day. A monstrous thing it was to sée that which the Numantins did while they were aliue, and a thing no lesse fearefull whiche they dydde when they were a dying:* 1.60 Bicause they left to Scipio neyther goods to spoile, neyther man or woman of whom to triumph. During the tyme that Numantia was besieged, no Numantin entred into prison, or to any Romane was prisoner, but suffe∣red death before he consented to yelde. When the Consul Scipio did sée the Citie burne, and entred the same, & founde all the Citizens dead and burned, there came ouer his heart great heauines, and out of his eyes he poured out many tea∣res, and sayde: O righte happie Numantia, whyche the god∣des willed to haue an ende, but not to bée ouercome.* 1.61 Foure hundreth threescore and syxe yeares endured the prosperi∣tie of the Citie of Nmantia: For so manye yeares had pas∣sed, since the foundation thereof by Numa Pompilius, vntill it was destroyed by Scipio the Affricane.

In those old tymes there were thrée Cities verie enemies and rebelles to Rome, that is to wit, Helia in Asia, Carthage in Africa, and Numantia in Europa, the whiche thrée were vtterly

destroyed, but by the Romaines neuer possessed or inhabited. The Prince Iugurth of the age of .xxij. yeares came from Afri∣ca to the warres of Numantia, in fauor of Scipio, and did there suche and so notable feates in armes, that he deserued with Scipio to be verie priuate, and in Rome to be esteemed. Al the Historiographers that write of the warres of Numantia, saye that the Romaines did neuer receyue so muche hurte or lose so many people, or were at so greate charges, neyther recey∣ued so great shame, as they did in that conqueste of Numan∣tia. And the reason they giue for this, is, for that all the o∣ther warres hadde their beginning vppon some iniurie, ex∣cept that of Numantia, whiche was of méere malice or enuie. To say, that the Citie of Samorra, was in tyme past Numan∣tia, is a thing verie fabulous, and worthie to be laughed at: bi∣cause (if stories do not deceiue vs) from the time that Numā∣tia was in the world, vntil the time that Samorra begā to be, there did passe seuen hundreth thirtie & thrée yeres. If Plinie, Pomponius, Ptholomaeus, & Strabo, had said that Numantia was néere to Dwero, there had bin a doubt whether it had bin So∣ria or Samorra. But these Historiographers doe saye, that the foundation thereof was néere to the head of Dwero: wherof it may be gathered, that séeing Samorra is more than thirtie lea∣gues from the heade of Dwero, & Soria is but fiue, that it is Soria and not Samorra.

There be thrée opinions where the situation of the citie of Numantia should bée, in whiche some doe saye, that it was, where nowe is Soria: others affirme that it was on the other side of the bridge vpon an hill: some do auouche that it was a league from thence, on a certain place named Garray: and in my iudgement as I consider of the thrée situations, this o∣pinion is moste true, bycause there is founde greate anti∣quities, and there doth appeare auncient greate buyldings. Those that wrote of Numantia, were Plinius, Strabo, Ptholo∣maeus, Trogus Pompeius, Pullio, Trebellius, Vulpicius, Isodorus, Instinus, and Marcus Ancus.

A letter vnto the Constable Sir Ynigo Valasco, in the whiche the Authour doth perswade, that in the taking of Founterabie he first make proofe to profite his wisedome, before he do, experiment his Fortune.

MOst renoumed Lorde and Captaine to Caesar, about the dead of this night, Peter Herro deliuered mée a Letter from your Lordship, the whiche al∣thogh it had not come firmed or with superscription, by the letter I should haue knowen it to be written with your owne hand: bicause it conteined few lines & many blots. While you are in the warres, it is tollerable to write on grosse paper,* 1.62 with crooked lynes, euill ynke, and blotted letters: For good warriers doe more esteme to sharpen their launces, than to make pennes. Sir, you write vnto me, that I should pray for your health and victorie, for that at the commaundemente of Caesar, you goe to besiege Founterabie, which was taken by the Admirall of Fraunce, the same béeyng of the Crowne of Castile. Thys youre seruaunt preaceth with such diligence for this letter, that I shal be forced to answer more at large than I can, and muche lesse than I woulde. As touchynge Founterabie, I doe certaynly beléeue, that within these two yeares, the takyng and susteynyng of it, hathe coste the French King more than it would haue cost to haue bought, or else to haue buylt it.* 1.63 Wherof there is no cause to haue maruell, for that great Lordes and Princes do spend much more in susteyning the opinion they holde, than the reason that they vse. In all christendome (at this presente) I fynde not an enterprise more dangerous than this of Founterabie. For either you muste ouercome the French king, or else dis∣please the Emperor. I wold say, that ye take in hand to deale with the might of the one, and with the fauour or disgrace of the other. To be a Captain generall is an estate verie hono∣rable

and profitable, although ryght delicate. For notwith∣standing hée doe all that he can; and all that is méete to bee done, it by the mishap of his sinnes hée giue any battel, and carie not away the victorie, it is not sufficiēt that the sorow∣full man doe lose his lyfe, but also they séeke some faulte, by the whiche they say he lost that battell. Be it that euery man be what he can, and fight what he may, yet neuer to this day haue we séene a conquered Captain called wyse, neyther him that ouercame, termed rashe. It is verie good, that the Cap∣taines which fight,* 1.64 and the Physitions that cure, be wise: but it is muche better, that they be fortunate: For these bée two things wherein many tymes wysedome fayleth, and fortune preuayleth. Sir you do take in hand an enterprise iuste, and verie iust: bicause from tyme out of mynde to this day, wée haue neuer heard or séene, the towne of Founterabie possessed by any king of France, neyther any king of Castile to haue gi∣uen it them: In suche wyse, that it is a conscience for them to holde it, and a shame for vs not to take it.

Sir consider well for your owne part, that a warre so iust, be not lost through some secrete offence:* 1.65 bycause the disgra∣ces and ouerthrowes that do happen in such like enterprises, doe not chaunce bicause the warre is not iust, but for that the conductours thereof bée vniuste. The warre the Hebrewes made with the Philistines in the mount of Gilboa, was a war verie iust, but king Saule that had the conduction therof, was a Kyng verie vniuste, for whose cause the Lorde did permit that noble battayle to be lost, to the ende the kyng should be slayne in the same.

But as the iudgements of God are in them selues so high, and of vs so vnknowen, many times it dothe happen, that a king or prince doth chose out one of his seruāts, to make him general of an armie, to the ende he be honored, and his state more amended than the rest: And on the other side, God doth permit, that there where he thought to obtayn most honor & good happe, from thence he dothe escape moste shamed and confounded. Let it not bée thought of Princes and of great

men, that séeing they woulde not abstaine from sinne, they shall more than others auoyd the payne.* 1.66 For God doth com∣passe them in suche wise, that they come to make paymente in one houre, of that whiche they committed in all their life. In the house of God there hath not, is not, neyther shall be, merite without reward, or fault without punishment. And if it hap that presentely wée sée not the good rewarded, eyther the euill chastised, it is not for that God doth forget it, but vn∣till an other tyme to deferre it.

The Marshall of Nauarre with his band of Agramontenses, wée vnderstande is in the defence of Founteraby: it séemeth not to be yll counsell, to make youre siege openlye, and to practise wyth them secretely. For although they be nowe seruauntes to the Frenche Kyng: they shal remember they were subiectes to our Caesar: for so much as I finde in old Hi∣stories, that this linage of Marshalls of Nauarre is auncient, generous, and valyant. And for my parte I doe firmely be∣léeue, that the Marshall had rather serue Caesar his lord, than folow the French king his master. The good Scipio the Affri∣cane, did vse to say, that al things in the warrs ought to be as∣sayed before the sworde be drawne: And surely he did speake most truely: Bicause there is not in all this world so greate a victorie as that which is obtayned withoute bloud.* 1.67 Cice∣ro to writing to Atticus, dothe saye and affirme, that the deuise that vanquisheth the enimyes with counsell, is of no lesse worthynesse, than he that ouercommeth by the sworde. Sylla, Tyberius, Caligula, & Nero, neuer could but cōmaund & kill, and on the other side, the good Augustus, Titus, and Traianus, coulde not but pray and pardon, in suche maner, that they ouercame praying, as the other fighting. The good Surgion oughte to cure with swéete oyntments, and the good Captaine with discrete persuasions. For as for yron,* 1.68 God rather made it to eare fieldes, than to kill men. Plutarch dothe saye, that Sci∣pio being at the siege of Numantia when they were importu∣nate that he should besiege the Citie and destroy the Numan∣tins, answered: I had rather conserue the life of one Roman,

than kill all those in Numantia. If these words of Scipio were wel considered of the Captains of warre, peraduenture they woulde leaue to bée soo rashe in hazardyng theyr armyes in so greate and many perils. Wherof doth folow oftentimes that thinking to be reuenged of their enimies, they execute vengeance of their owne proper bloud.

All this haue I sayde (noble Constable) to the ende that sith Caesar hath iustified the warre of Founterabie, your noble∣nesse of your parte should also iustifie the same: And the iu∣stification whiche you haue to make, is: First persuade thē, before you come to besiege them,* 1.69 bicause it doth many times happen, that the prayers of a friend may doe more, than the sworde of the enimie. Of the good Emperoure Theodosius the historie writers recount, that vntill ten dayes were past after he had besieged any Citie, he did not permit his souldi∣ours to make warre, neyther to misuse the neighbors ther∣of: Saying and proclayming euery daye, that those tenne dayes space hée gaue them, to the ende they shoulde profite themselues by his clemency, before they should make proof of his power. When the greate Alexander did sée the deade bo∣die of Darius, and Iulius Caesar: the heade of Pompeius: and Marcus Marcellus, Syracusa burne: and the good Scipio, Nu∣mantia destroyed: They coulde not detaine their eyes from wéeping, althoughe they were mortall enimies. For if the tender hearted and noble mynded, reioyce of the victorie, they are grieued with others spoyle. Beleeue me (noble Consta∣ble) that pitie and clemencie doe neuer blunt the launce in tyme of warre:* 1.70 And on the other side, the Captaine that is blouddie and reuenging, eyther the enimies doe kill him, or else his owne doe sell hym. Iulius Caesar, not vndeserued, shall hold the supremacie amongst the Princes of the world: and not bycause hée was more fayre, stronger, valyanter, or more fortunate than the rest: but for that, without com∣parison, muche more were the enimies hée pardoned, than those he ouercame or killed. We doe reade of that famous Captaine Narsetes, that he did subdue the Frenche, ouercame

the Bactrians, and did conquere and gouerne the Germains: and with all thys, dyd neuer gyue battayle to the enimies: but hée wepte in the Temples the night before.* 1.71 The king∣dome wherein the Emperour Augustus moste delighted and ioyed, was that of the Mauritanes, whyche is nowe called the kyngdome of Marrewcos. And the reason that he gaue for this, was: bycause all other kingdomes he got by the sword, and this kingdome he obtained by entreatance.

If vnto my wordes it please you to giue credite, trauayle that Founterabye maye bée yéelded, rather by composition than by force: For that in graue and doubtefull cases: firste men oughte to profite themselues with their pollicie, before they make proofe of Fortune. All the rest that your Lordship dothe commaunde mee, I will perfourme with greate good will: Whiche is to witte, that I praye vnto our God, for your Lordships victorie. And that hée giue vnto mée of hys glorie.

From the towne of Victoria, the .xiij. of Ianuary .1522.

A letter for Sir Antonie of Cuniga, Priour of Saint Iohn, in the which is said, that although there be in a Gentleman to bee reprehended, there ought not to be cause of reproch.

FAmous and moste valiaunt Captayne, yesterday béeyng Sainct Luces day, Lo∣pes Osorius gaue mée a letter from your woorship, made at the siege of Toledo: And of a truthe,* 1.72 I didde muche reioyce therein: and no lesse estéeme the same, to bée written of suche a hande, and sente from suche a place. For in the tyme of rebellion, as nowe, the Knyght ought not to write from his house resting, but from the Campe fightyng. The Priest oughte to boaste hymselfe of his studie: the husband∣man of his plough: and the Knyght of his launce. In suche wyse, that in a good common wealth, the priest prayeth, the husbandman ploweth, & the Knight fighteth. He is not to be

accounted a knight, y^t is extract of noble blud, in power great, in iewels rich, in seruāts mighty: for al these things in mar∣chauntes is many times found, and also of a Iewe many ty∣mes obtained.* 1.73 But that whiche maketh the Knight to be a perfect gentleman, is to be measured in his words, liberal in giuing, sober in diet, honest in lyuing, tender in pardoning, and valiant in fightyng. Notwithstanding any one be no∣ble in bloud, and mightie in possessions, yet if hee bée in his talke a babbler, in eating a glutton, in condition ambicious, in conuersation malicious, in getting couetous, in trauells impatient, and in fightyng a coward: of such we shal rather say, to haue more abilitie for a carle, than for a Knight: vile∣nesse, sluggishnesse, nigardship, maliciousnesse, lying, and co∣wardnesse,* 1.74 did neuer take repast with knighthoode. For in the good knight, although there may be founde wherewith to be reprehended, there ought not to be conteyned wherfore to be reproued.

In our age there hath bin no tyme, wherin the good knight mighte better shewe his ablenesse, or to what ende hee is, than at this instant: bicause the King is out of his kingdom, the Quéene is sicke, the royall Counsell is fledde, the people rebell, the gouerners are in Camp, and all the kingdome out of quiet: nowe or neuer, they ought to trauaile, and die, to ap∣pease the kingdome, and euery man to serue his King. The good Knight doth now turne his gloues into gantlets: Mules into horsses, his buskins into greues, his hattes into Hel∣mets, his doublets into Harnesse, his sylke into mayle, his golde into yron,* 1.75 his hunting into fighting: In such wise that the valiant knight ought not to boaste himselfe of his great Librarie, but of his good armorie. For the weale of the com∣mon wealth, it is as necessarie that the knight doe arme, as the priest reuest himselfe: for as prayers do remoue sinnes, euen so doth armour defende from enimies.

Sir, I haue sayd all this, to the ende you shall vnderstande there, that we know here all that you do in your campe: and also, all that you do say: Wherwith you ought not to be grie∣ued,

sith euery man dothe praise your wisedome, and mag∣nifie your Fortune. In the register of fame maruellous is the great Iudas Machabeus: the whiche when he was coun∣selled by his souldiours by flying to saue their liues,* 1.76 euen at the instant to giue battaile, sayd: God neuer permit, that we put our fame in suspitiō, but that this day we die all here, to kéepe our lawes, to succour our brethren, and not to liue de famed. Great account doe the Gréeke writers make of their king Agiges, the which vpon the point to giue battayle to the Licaonians: when his souldiors began to say, that the enimies were very many, he made answere: The Prince that will subdue many, of necessitie must fight with many.* 1.77 Anaxandri∣das Captaine of the Spartans, béeing demaunded why those of his armie did rather endure themselues to be slaine than ta∣ken, answered: That it was a lawe amongst them much v∣sed, rather to dye frée, than lyue captiues. The great Prince Bias, holding warres with Iphicrates Kyng of the Athenians, when hée happened to fall into the stale of his enemies, and hys Souldiours beganne to crie, what shall we doe? he made aunswere: That you make reporte to those that are aliue, that I dye fyghtyng: and I will say there to the dead, that you scapte flying. Leonidas the sonne of Anaxandridas,* 1.78 and brother to Cleomenides, fighting in a certayn battaile, when his souldiours sayd, the enemies dyd shoote arrowes so thick that the Sunne was couered. He aunswered: Then lette vs fighte in the shade. Charrillus the fifte King after Licurgus, béeing in warre with the Athenians, when one of his Cap∣taynes didde aske an other if hée dydde knowe what num∣ber the enemyes were: Charrillus answered: The valiant and noble mynded Captaynes ought neuer to enquyre of their enimies, howe many they are, but where they be.* 1.79 The one is a signe of flying, the other of fyghting. Alcibiades a fa∣mous Captaine of the Athenians, in the warres he held with the Lacedemonians, when they of his campe sodenly made a∣larum with great cries, that they were fallen into their ene∣mies handes: ••e valiant and feare not (quod he) we are not

fallen into their handes, but they into oures.

I thought good to recounte these fewe antiquities, that it may be knowne to all that be presente, and also notified to those that are absent, that amongst these so glorious perso∣nages, your noble worthinesse mighte be recounted: for that they neyther did excéede you in their wordes they spake, nei∣ther in their actes they did.

We haue here vnderstoode in what manner the armye of Toledo did make their salye, to take away a great bootie that you were driuing to your Campe: and many of your soul∣diours did not onely begin to flée, but also gaue you counsell to saue your selfe by running away: but you of your part, as a man of muche courage, and a Captaine of no lesse experi∣ence, gaue onset amongst the enimies, crying: Here Gentle∣men here, shame, shame, victorie, victorie, if this daye wée o∣uercome, we obtain that we desire, and if we die, we perform our duetie.* 1.80 Oh woordes worthy to bée noted, and right wor∣thie vppon your tombe to be engrauen: Since it is certain that you slew that day more thā .vij. with your sword, & with your noblenes of mind ouercame more than seuen thousand.

Trogus Pompeius doth saye many tymes and in many pla∣ces,* 1.81 that the innumerable victories whiche the Romaines did obtain, were not so much for that their armies were of such power, but bicause their Captains were of experience.

And this may we verie well beléeue, for we euery day sée that the happie successe of a battell, is not so much attributed to the armie that fighteth, as to the captain that ouercōmeth. The Assyrians doe muche glorie themselues of their captaine Belus: The Persians of Syrus: The Thebans of Hercules: The Iewes of Machabeus: The Grekes of Alcibyades: The Troyans of Hector: The Aegyptians of Osiges: The Epirothians of Pyr∣hus: The Romains of Scipio: The Carthagians of Hanniball: The Spaniardes of Viriato.

* 1.82This noble man Viriato was naturall of the prouince of Lusitania, the which is now called Portingale. In his youth he was first a shepeherd, afterwarde a ploughman, and then a

robber, and in fine made Emperour, and of his countrey on∣ly defendour.* 1.83 The writers of Rome themselues doe recount of this valiant Captaine Viriato, that in fiftéene yeares that the Romaines helde warre with hym, they coulde neuer kill, take, eyther foyle hym. When they founde him inuincible, and not to be ouercome in battaile, they ordeyned treason to kill him with poyson.

Sir, I thought good to bring this Historie in remembrāce, to the ende that in this ciuill warre, that we the Gentlemen hold with the Communers, that you shew your self an other new Machabeus amongst the Hebrues: and an other newe Vi∣riato amongst the Spaniards: To the end that our enimies may haue what to say, and your friends what to prayse.

But to let the conclusion bée, that you ceasse not to trauell (as you haue a noble mynde) to giue aduenture vpon your e∣nimies, that you may also resist al vices:* 1.84 for men of valiant∣nesse, as your worship is, fewe vices are sufficient to darken many victories. As concerning the reste, that M. Hernando of Vega did commend vnto mée of your part, wich is to wit, that since you haue doone notably in the warres, it maye bée remembred in the Chronicles. Sir, holde your selfe for hap∣pie, that if your launce shall be such as was Achilles, my pen shall be suche as that of Homere.

From Medina of Ruisseca, the .18. of Februarie. 1522.

A Letter to the Earle of Myranda, wherin is expounded that text of Christ, whych sayth: My yoke is sweete. &c.

MOste famous and right noble Lorde and Master of the house to Caesar, your honoure requireth by youre Letter, that I should send vnto you the expo∣sition of that text of Christe, whiche sayeth, My yoke is sweete, and my bur∣den is lyght, the whiche you heard me preache the other day before his ma∣iestie

in the sermon of all saincts, and that you delighted not a little to heare it, and no lesse desire to haue the same in wri∣ting. Also you write, it shall not be muche for me to take the payne to send the exposition thereof, for that you came to vi∣site me when I was Warden of Soria: in suche wise, that if I would not performe your request of courtesie: you would de∣maund it by iustice.

I will not denie, but that visitation was to me no smal pleasure and consolatiō: for that the Monasterie is moist and y^e soyle cold, the aire subtill, scarce of bread, euil wines, crude waters, and the people no fooles: for in very déede, if in other parts they iudge what they sée, there they speake what they thinke. That which I most wanted, was not lacke of vitay∣les, but the company of friends, without which, there is nei∣ther countrey doth like, or conuersation that dothe contente. You haue greate reason to demaunde the visitation you vsed with me,* 1.85 and the consolation you gaue me: for the good fréend doth owe no more vnto his fréend then to remedie his necessi∣ties, and to comfort him in his aduersities.

For so great courtesie, if I would vse liberalitie, I am not of power: if I would serue you, I haue not wherewith: if I would visit you, I haue no libertie: if I woulde requite or re∣compence you, I am poore: if I woulde giue any thing, you haue no néede. That which I am able to performe, is to con∣fesse the curtesie ye then vsed with me, and to accomplishe that, which you now commaund me, although if be not very great, it is not to be estéemed as little, that I holde you as my good Lord, and choose you for my friend. For it is muche more to gratifie a good turne receyued, than to recompence it.

Vice for vice, and euill for euill: there is none in this world so euill as the ingrate man.* 1.86 And of this it commeth that the humayne and tender hart doth pardon all iniuries, except in∣gratitude: which he neuer forgetteth. Alexander in vsing libe∣ralitie, and Iulius Caesar in pardoning of iniuries, to this daye there haue not bin born two Princes that excéeded, or else to bée compared vnto them. And with this, it is readde of

them, that if they had knowen a man ingrate, Alexander woulde not gyue hym, neyther Iulius Caesar woulde par∣don him.

The exposition of the text, My yoke is sweete. &c.

SIr, as concerning that your lordship doth say that I shuld send you the text which I preached vnto his Maiestie as I did then pronoūce it, is a thing that I neuer vse to do, neither ought to do: for if it be in our hands to send you what we say, we cannot send you the grace wherwith we do preach:* 1.87 for y^e grace, disposition & vain that God giueth in y^e houre vnto the tong, he doth giue afterwardes, verie seldome vnto the pen. Asclepius amongst the Argiues, Demosthenes amongest the A∣thenians, Aeschine amongst the Rodians, Cicero amongest the Romans, were not only skilfull in orations, but Princes of all other Oratours. And ioyntly with this, neuer any Ora∣tion that they made, would they giue afterwardes vnto the people in wrytyng, saying, they woulde not commende vnto the penne, the glorie their tongue had giuen them.* 1.88 For howe much difference is betwixte the drawen plat and the builded house, the figure and the thing figured, the naturall and the thing represented: so muche is betwixte the hearing of a sermon in a Pulpit, and the reading therof afterwardes in writing. For in the writyng chiefly the eyes do vse theyr office, but with the worde the heart is moued. It is the pro∣pertie of Diuine letters, that béeing read, they be vnderstood, and being heard, they be tasted or fauoured. And so it cōmeth to passe, that many mo persons be turned to God by hearing of Sermons, than by reading of Bookes.

Syr, I wyll doe that you commaunde me, and will sende you that you require of me, with a testimonie which I craue and with a protestation whyche I make: that yf it shall not séeme so good when you reade it, as it didde when you hearde it, impute not the fault to my good wyll, but to your importunitie.

But now to the poynt, Christ sayth: Come vnto me all you that be ouerladen and wearie, and I will vnlode you and refreshe you. Esay sayeth in his visions, the burden of Babylon, the burden of Moab, the burden of Arabia, the burden of Aegypt, the burden of Damascus, the burden of the Desert of the sea, the burden of Tyrus: whiche is to be vnderstode, that he did sée Babylon burdened, Moab burdened, Arabia burdened, Ae∣gypt burdened, Damascus burdened, and Tyrus burdened. The prophete Dauid dothe saye: As with a gréeuous burden I am ouerladen: as if he should say, A mightie greate burden they haue laid vpō me. Of the premisses it may be wel gathered, y^e before Christ,* 1.89 all the old law was tedious and painful: & held vs laden & wearied, bicause it was rigorous vnto those that did breake it, and held no glory for such as did obserue it. In repayment of the Moral precepts they obserued, the lawes they accōplished, the ceremonies they vsed, and the sacrifices they offered, only God gaue them victorie of their enimyes, peace in their common wealths, health to their persons, and goodes wherwith to susteyne their families.

What greater burden might ther be in this worlde, than that he which did break the law, went presently to hell: And to him that did obserue the same, they did not incontinently giue Paradyse. From the beginnyng to the ende of the olde law, euer they laid on precept vpon precept, ceremonie vpon ceremonie, law vpon law, burden vpon burden, paine vpon pain, in such wise, that all wer in burdening, but none in dis∣charging.* 1.90 The first in this world that gaue cōmaundemente to be proclaimed, that al the loden should come vnto him, and he would vnlode them, all the wearied, and he would refresh them, was Christ our God. And this was when in the molde of loue, he did melt that lawe of feare.

It is here to be vnderstoode, euery yoke naturally to bée heauie, sharpe, harde and painefull: and the beaste that dra∣weth the same, goeth bound and trauailed. And on the other parte Christe to saye, that his yoake is swéete, and hys burden lighte, surely is a thing worthy to be noted, and most

highly to bée considered: Christ did not say simply euery yoke is swéete: bicause otherwise wée had not knowen of what yoke he had spoken, neither what lawe hée dyd approue.

In that Christe said, his yoke is swéete, hee did giue vs too vnderstand, that other yokes be bitter.* 1.91 In saying that his burdē is light: he gaue vs to conceiue that others were heauy, in such wise, that he doth lighten vs, when he doth burden vs: and giueth vs libertie when he doth yoke vs: neyther did Christ saye, my yokes be swéete, and my burdens bée light, bycause our God doth neyther commaund vs to plough with many yokes, either to be laden with many burdens. It is the deuil that doth perswade vs to many vices: It is the worlde that doth ingulfe vs in greate troubles: It is the fleshe that craueth of vs much excesse and superfluities. But the good Christ our God, doth aske vs no more but that we loue him, & not to abhor our brethrē. The law of the Hebrewes was the law of feare: but the law of Christians is the law of loue. And as they serued god of force and by feare, so we of loue and good wil: their law is called hard, and that of the christians sweete.

The propertie of loue is to turne the rough into plaine, the cruell to gentle, the bitter to swéete, the vnsauory to pleasant,* 1.92 the angry to quiet, the malicious to simple, that grosse to adui∣sed, and also the heauy, to light. Hée that loueth, neither can he murmur of him that doth anger him: neither denie that they aske him: neither resiste when they take from him: neyther answere when they reproue him: neither reuenge if they shame him: neither yet will be gone when they send him a∣way. What doth he forget that dothe loue with all his hart? what leaueth he vndon, that knoweth not but to loue? wherof doth he complaine, that alwaies doth loue? If he that doth loue hath any cause of complainte, it is not of him that he loueth, but of him selfe, that hath made some fault in loue: the con∣clusion is: The hart that loueth entierly without cōparison,* 1.93 much more is the pleasure that hee taketh in loue, than the trauell he passeth in seruing.

Oh, to how greate effect should it come too passe, if being

Christians, wée should therewith be enamored of the lawe of Christ: for then surely, neither should wée be pensiue, nor liue in paine: for the heart that is occupied in loue, doth neyther flie daungers, nor is dismayed in trauelles. The yoke that cat∣tell do beare, when hée is new, is of him selfe very heauie: but after, when he is drie, and somewhat worne, he is more soft to be suffered, and more light to be caried. Oh good Iesu, Oh high misterie of thée my God: Since thou wouldest not incontinent after thy byrth burden vs with the yoke of thy lawe: but that thou thy selfe, vppon thy selfe didst beare the burden: and thirtie yeares firste didst cary the same, that it should drie,* 1.94 and growe light, and be seasoned. What hath Christ cōmaunded vs to do, that he first hath not done? what yoke hath he cast vpon our backs, that he first hath not borne vppon his shoulders? If hée commaunded to fast, he fasted: if he commaunded to pray, he prayed: if he commaunded wée should forgiue, he pardoned: if he commaunded to die, he died: if he commaunded vs to loue, he loued: In such wise, that if he commaunded vs to take any medicine, first in him selfe hée made experence.

Christ doth not compare his blessed lawe, vnto Tymber, Stone, Plants, or Iron: but only to the yoke, bycause al these things may be caried by one alone: but to drawe y^e yoke of ne∣cessitie, there must be twain. High & also most profoūd is this misterie, by the which is giuen vs to vnderstand, y^t euen at the present houre that the good Christian shall put downe his head vnder the yoke to cary the same: forthwith on the other part, Christ puts himselfe to helpe him. None calleth Christ, that he doth not answere. None doth commend himselfe vnto him,* 1.95 that he doth not succour. None doth aske him, that he gi∣ueth not some what. None doth serue him, that he payeth not. Likewise none doth trauell, that he doth not helpe. The yoke of the lawe of Christ, doth more cure, then wound: doth more pardon, than chastise, doth more couer than accuse: doth more feare, than weary, and also doth more lighten, than burden. For Christ him self, that commaunded to beare, he himself &

no other doth helpe vs to cary. Oh good Iesu, O loue of my soule, with such a guide as thou, who can lose the way? with suche a patron as thou, who feareth drowning? with such a captaine as thou, who dispaireth victory? with such a com∣panion as thou, what yoke may bée painefull? Oh swéete lawe, oh blessed yoke, oh trauell well imployed, by the whiche wée passe vntoo Christe: for, not only thou dost make accompt too bée with vs in all our trauels, but also dost pro∣mise, not to leaue vs to our selues.

He that in the garden of Gethsemany came forth, to re∣ceiue those that were come too take him: It is firmely to bée beleued, that he fayleth not to come forth to imbrace them that come to serue him. If any worldly and mightie riche man doe contend at any time with a poore Christian, truely we shall finde, that the helpe is much more that Christe gi∣ueth vnto his poore seruant, than all the cost that the world giueth to those that do followe the same. Those that the world doth leade vnder his yoke, to them hée giueth al things variable, dismesured, and by false waight: but in the house of god, all things are giuen whole, entier, without counter∣peyse, and most perfect. We may well say with great reason, that the yoke of Christe is swéete, and his burden light: for that the world doth not so muche, as pay for the seruice wée do him, but Christ doth pay vs, euen for the good thoughts we hold of him.

Christ doth well sée that of our owne nature we be humane, weake, miserable, foule, and remisse: for which cause he doth not behold what we are, but what we desire to be. Moyses gaue the lawe to the Hebrewes: Solon to the Greekes: Phorone∣us, to the Egyptians: Numa Pompilius, to the Romanes: but as mē made thē, & euen as men died, so they ended: but the yoke of the law of God shall endure, as long as God doth endure.* 1.96

What may Moyses lawe be worth in whiche was per∣mitted diuorcements, and vsury? What may the lawe of Phoroneus be estemed, in which was graunted, to the Aegyp∣tians, to be théeues? Of what value may the law of Licurgus be

accompted, in whiche man slaughter was not chastised? of what accompt may the lawe of Solon Solonius be reputed, in which adultery was dissimuled? Of what reputation may the lawe of Numa Pompilius be weighed, in which it was al∣lowed, that as much as you coulde take, was lawfull to con∣quer? Of what consideration may wée iudge the law of the Lidians, in which the maydēs vsed no other mariage, but vnto him that did win them by adultery? Of what iudgemēt, may we thinke the law of the Baleares, wherein it was commaun∣ded that the bride shoulde not be giuen vnto the bridegrome, before the next kinsman had vsed hir? These and suche like lawes, wée cannot say otherwise but that they were beasily, brutish, and vnhonest: since they did containe vices, and by vicious men were permitted.

He that is entred into the religion of Christ, to be in déede a Christian: hath no licence to bée proude, a théefe, a murde∣rer, an adulterer, a glutton, malicious, neither blasphemous. And if we shall happen to sée any to do the contrary, he shall haue onely the name of a Christian, but for the rest, he shalbe of the parish of Hell.

The holy, and sacred Lawe of Christe, is so right in the things it doth admitte, and so pure and sincere in the things it doth permit: that it doth neither suffer vice, nor consent to the vicious man, Quia lex Domini immaculata. The Hebrewes, the Arabians, the Pagans, and Gentiles, that defame our law, and complayne of the hardnesse thereof: Surely they haue no reason,* 1.97 much lesse occasion so to do. For the defecte is not in that shée is euill, but in that of vs shée is euill obserued. Those that would bée vertuous, of the preceptes of Christe neuer conceyue hardnesse, bycause the yoke of God, is not for their purpose that followe their opinion, but for those, that liue conformable to reason. Finally: I doe say, that all that wée do in respect of Christians, wée are bound to do, in consideration that wee are men: and to this end Christe sayeth, that his yoke is swéete, and his burden light. For he is so good, and so magnificent, that he payeth vs as well,

for that we do for him, as though we were not bound to do it. This is it, that I vnderstand of this text. And this is it, that I said vnto his maiestie, when I preached thereof. No more, but that our Lord haue you in his keping, and giue me grace, to serue him.

From Madrid the .x. of Iune. 1526.

A letter vnto Sir Peter Gyron, wherein the authour doth touch the maner of auncient writing.

VIlloria your Solicitor and seruaunt gaue me a letter of yours here in Borgos, written in Os∣suna the .xxiiij. of August, the which, (although he departed from thence in the same moneth) came hither the .xv. of Nouember. Your let∣ters be so wise and so well prouided for, that before they come out of their Countrey they will haue Au∣gust and the grape gathering past. If it had bene powdred fleshe as it is a letter, it had good time to come hither very well seasoned, for by this time it had taken salt. Sir, the let∣ters that you haue to sende, and the daughters that you haue to marry, care yée not to leaue them far ouer yeared:* 1.98 for in our countrey they do not ouer yeare other things than their bacon, which they will eate, and their store wine which they will drinke.

There is much lesse distāce betwixt Ossuna & Borgos, than is betwixt Rome & Constantinople. And the Emperour Augu∣stus gaue cōmaundement vnto al his Viceroys that were resi∣dent in the East, that if they did not receiue his letters within xx. daies after they were written, they should not take thē as receiued, although in processe they did receiue them, saying, that afterwardes there might happen some thing in Rome whiche were to be otherwise prouided than according to the first letters. The Emperour Tiberius Caesar, if the letters that came frō Asia were not of .xx. daies writing, & those that came from Europa of .xv. and those that came from Africa of x. and those that came from Yllirica of .v. and those that came out of

all Italie of .iij. daies, he would neither read them, and much lesse prouide for them.

Sir, it séemeth to me that you ought from henceforth to talke, indent and also couenant with your letters, that if they come to Caesars Court, they make more haste vpon the way: for (in deede) speaking the truth, & that with libertie, if your letters were wood of the Pines of Soria, as they be letters of Ossuna, by the faith of a Christian, they might come so drie, y^t therof might be made both dores & windowes. Although they giue me many Letters togither, presently I know yours a∣mong the rest: the which come wrinkled like linnē, rusty like bacon, besweat like a doublet: & beside al this, to open & read them, there néedeth no force or necessitie to teare thē, for that the foldes come all broken, and the seales all to pieces.

Philistratus in the life of Apolonius Thioneus saith, that it was a custome amongst the Ipimeans,* 1.99 to put the date of their letters with the superscriptiō, to the end, if they were but few daies written, to read thē, & if they were ouer yeared, to teare them. If (as you be a Christiā) you had bin a Ipimean, be sure & out of doubt, that of a .100. letters writtē with your hād .98. shold be torne. And also I doubt, whether the other two shold be read. But since it is true that the Date of the letter is old, yet that the letters be good and legible, I sweare by the holy things of God, that it séemeth rather the caracters wherwith they write musike, than the letter of a Gentleman.

If your Tutor you had in your youth did not instruct you better to liue, than your scholemaister to write, your life should be no lesse disgraced in the sight of God, than your euill letter to my discontētation. For I giue you to wit, that I had rather take in hand to conster cifers, thā to read your letters.

* 1.100According to the varietie of time, so was the discouering of the manner of writing amongst men. For (according to the saying of Strabo) in the beginning of the worlde, first they did write in ashes, afterwardes in Kindes of trées, then in Stones, afterwardes in leaues of Laurell, afterwardes in shéetes of lead, after that in parchement, and at laste they

came to write in Paper. It is also to be noted, that in stones they did write with yron, in leaues with pensils, in ashes with fingers, in rinds with kniues, in parchment with canes, and in paper with pennes.

The Incke that our old forefathers did write withall,* 1.101 was first of a fishe called Zibia, after that they made it of soote of smoke, afterwards of vermilion, after that of Cardenillio: in the end they inuented it of gumme, galles, coperas and wine.

Sir, I thought good to recite these antiquities, to gather thereof (of this your letter) whether it were written with kniues, with yron, with pensilles, or with the finger. For, (as I thinke) it is not possible (at the least) but that you did write it with a cane or with a canon. You haue to vnderstand, that the forme of your letter was, grosse paper, whitish incke, cro∣ked lines, letters turned vpside downe, and the reasons blot∣ted: so that either you did write it by Moone light, or else it was some childe that beganne to learne at schoole. Although the letter came old, open, slubbred, rent, and all be blotted, is it true, that it was shorte in reasons, and fewe in lines: no surely, but to haue little or nothing to write, it helde twoo shéetes & a halfe of paper. In such wise, that when I did open it and did sée it, I thought it rather to be some citation wher∣with they cited me, than a letter whiche any should write to me. The letters written with your owne hand, I cannot tell why they should be closed, and much lesse sealed: for speaking the truth, for more safe I holde your letter being open, than your plate being lockt in your chest. For vnto y^e one a garde∣niance is not sufficient: & to the other, a seale is superfluous.

I gaue your letter to be read to Peter Coronell, to sée if it were in Hebrew: I deliuered it to maister Prexamo to tel me if it were in Chaldee, I shewed it vnto Hameth Abducarin,* 1.102 to sée if it came in Arabian: I did present it also to Siculo, that he might sée the stile if it were in Greeke: I sent it vnto maister Alaia, to vnderstand, if it were a thing of Astrologie. Finally, I shewed it vnto Flemings, Almans, Italians, Englishmen, Scottes and Frenchmen, the which all did affirme, that either it was

a letter in iest, or else a writing inchanted. And when many said that it was not possible, but that it was a letter inchan∣ted, or else infected with a spirit, I determined with my selfe to send it to the great Nigromancer Iohn de Barbota, instant∣ly desiring him to read it, or else to coniure it: who aunswe∣red by writing, and also certefied me, that he had coniured it, and also put it in circle, and that he could gather of the mat∣ter, is, that the letter (without doubt) had no spirit in him: but he aduised me, that he which wrote it should be besprited.

Sir, for that I wish you well, and am also beholding vnto you: I aduertise, and also beséech you, from henceforth to vse some amēdment in your letters, if not, ye may cōmend them to Iohn de Barbota. That your letters shall scape my handes, as good a virgin as Putifars wife did scape the handes of Io∣seph,* 1.103 or the fayre Sara the handes of Abimelech, or the Hebrues Sunamite the handes of Dauid, or the Dame of Carthage the handes of Scipio, or Phocions wife the handes of Dionisius, or the daughter of King Darius the handes of Alexander, or Quéene Cleopatra the hands of Augustus: finally, I do say that I cannot reade, or els you know not to write.

If the letter, sent by Dauid vnto his Captaine Ioab, vppon the death of the vnhappy Vrias, and the conception of the fayre Bersabe, had bene of this cursed letter, Dauid had not sinned, neither the innocēt Vrias bene slaine. If the consederacie made by Escaurus,* 1.104 and his companions, in the comuration of Catili∣ne, had bin of such miserable letter as youres, neither had they receiued so cruell death, or in the Citie of Rome had they raysed so infamous warre? that it had pleased the diuine pro∣uidence that you had bene secretarie to Manicheus, to Arrius, Nestorius, Sipontinus, Marius, Ebion, and all the other heretiks that haue bene in the world: for though they had constrayned you to write their excommunicate and cursed heresies: wée should neuer, or any other haue found meane to reade them.

* 1.105Of Plinie in his naturall History, of Clebius in his Astrolo∣gie, of Pitus in his Philosophy, of Cleāder in his Arithmetike, of Estilphon in his Ethiks, and of Codrus in his Politikes, all

the auncient writers doe most sharpely complaine, bycause in their doctrines they did write some thinges the which are easie to bee reade, but difficill to vnderstand. In the Cap∣taineship of these so excellent men: you may well set downe your launce, and also giue thrée poundes of wax to enter their fraternitie. For if their writings will not be vnderstoode, no more may your lines be read.

Many times I do muse, how with the antiquitie of times, and with the varietie of wits, all things haue bin renued, and many made better, except the letters of the A.B.C. in whiche, from the time they were first inuented, there hath bene no∣thing added, and much lesse mended.

The A.B.C. holdeth xxj. letters, eightene of the which.* 1.106 Ne∣stor found, and the other thrée, the captaine Diomedes inuen∣ted, being at y^e siege of Troy. And surely it is a thing to be no∣ted, that neither the eloquence of the Greekes, either the cu∣riositie of the Romanes, or the grauitie of the Aegyptians, ne yet the excellency of the Philosophers, both found, or could find, another letter to the A.B.C. to be added, or to be taken a∣waye, or to be changed. And although the humaine nations are in some part diuers, at the least, the letters of the A.B.C. thoroughout the world do sound one.

As Solon, Harman Cortes, Pedrarias, and Pisarro, haue disco∣uered in the Indies a new world to liue in: it may be, that you haue found out a new A.B.C. to write withall: but I feare mée much, that none will goe to learne at your schole, if the matter therof be like your letters. I say for my owne opi∣nion, that you shall neuer come to any good market, to sell your land by such a list.

I will say no more, of the matter of your letter, but that you accept this of mine, as a warning, and therwith of your curtesie I do craue, from henceforth you kéepe your letter vn∣moth eaten: And that it may stand with your pleasure, to amend the imperfection of the same: for I haue learned too read, and not to diuine.

I did imagine with my selfe, that of purpose you had sent

me this letter in iest, to giue me occasion to answere you in iest: and of very ouerthwartnes you did write to me so, by∣cause I should aunswere to the same purpose: if happely it were your intent, Sir you must thinke, that out of such pil∣grimage, you can obtaine but like pardons.

Sir from this Court of Caesar, very fewe things are to bée written: although many to be murmured, the newes now are, that many titles of Dukes, Marqueses, Earles, and Vi∣countes the Emperour our Lorde and Maister hath giuen to many of his kingdome, thē which do deserue them very wel, for the authoritie of their persons, & for the antiquitie of their houses.

* 1.107If ye demaund of the rents they receiue, and of the landes and Seigniories they possesse, in these things I do not enter∣medle or dare not put to my hand, although it be true that some of these Noble mens estates be so narow and strait, that if it appertained to the Friers Hieronimites, (as it doth to thē) they would shortly choose it within a wall.

Rodrigo Giron, to you beholding, and my speciall friend, desired me of his owne part, and commaunded me of yours, that I should speake to the gentleman Antony of Fonseca, vp∣pon I cannot tell what, unbarge, or stay, that you had vppon a licence. Sir I haue dispatchte it, as your authoritie and my fidelitie did require. Since that time I haue not vnderstood, what hath ben done therin: but that which I can certifie you of and affirme, is: If he do perseuer with suche diligence too take order for your licence, as he hath with great earnestnes played away his goodes: your worship shal as well be deliue∣red of auditors and of an accompt, as he was this other night of gamsters at dice. For as one of them aduertised me, he lost no more but the cap he did weare: & the spurs vpon his héeles.

There are, that do well resemble their owne, and do fol∣lowe the steps of their forefathers: for if I be not forgetfull, I haue séene his father the Iustice or Maior of Montanches,* 1.108 many times kepe his chamber, not bycause hée was sicke, but for that in Merida hée had played and lost all that euer

he had. The lord haue you in his kéeping, and giue me grace to serue him.

From Burgos the 15. of September in the yeare 1523.

A letter vnto Sir Ynnigo of Velasco, Constable of Castile, wherein the author doth teache the briefenesse of writing in olde time

THe fourth of October, here in Valiodolid I receyued a letter from your honour, written in Villorado the thirtith of September: and considering the distance from hence thither, and the small tarying of your letter from thence hither, too my iudgement, if it had bin a troute, it had come hither very fresh. Pirrhus the King of the Epirotes was the first that inuented currers or postes: and in this case, he was a Prince so vigilant, that hauing thrée armies spred in diuers partes, his seate or pallace being in the Citie of Tarento: in one day he vnderstood from Rome: in two dayes out of Fraunce: in thrée out of Germany:* 1.109 and in fiue out of Asia. In such sorte, that his messengers did rather séeme to flie, than otherwise.

The hart of man is such an inuentor of new thinges, and so farre in loue with nouelties, that the more straunge the thing is they say or wright vnto vs, so much the more we do reioyce and delight therein: for that olde things do giue loth∣somenesse, and new things do awaken the spirites. This vā∣tage you haue (that can do much) of them that haue but lit∣tle, that in short time you write whether you will,* 1.110 and vn∣derstand from whence you think good: although also it is most true, that sometime you vnderstand some newes within thrée dayes, which you would not haue knowen in thrée yeares.

There is no pleasure, ioye, or delight, in this world, that with it bringeth not some inconuenience: in such wise, that that wherin long time we haue had delight, in one day wée pay and yelde againe.

Sir I haue saide thus muche, to the end to continue your good opinion towards Mosen Ruben, your Steward: whiche by the date of your letter, dothe séeme to haue made greate spéede, and to haue slept very little, for he brought the letter so freshe, that it séemed the inke to be scarce drie.

You write vnto me, that I should certefie you, what is the cause, that I being descended of a linage so auncient, of body so high, in the momentes of my prayers so long, and in prea∣ching so large, how I am in writing so briefe: especially in my last letter, that I sent from the monasterie of Fres Dell Vall, when I was there preaching vnto Caesar: Whiche you say, did containe but foure reasons, and eight lines.

Sir in these things, that you haue written, you haue giuen me matter, not to answere very short. And if by chaunce I shall so doe from hencefoorth, I say and protest, it shalbe more for your pleasure than for mine owne contentation.

As concerning that you say my linage is auncient, your lordship doth well knowe, that my graundfather was called sir Beltran of Gueuara:* 1.111 my father also was named sir Beltran of Gueuara: and my Cosin was called sir Ladron of Gueuara, and that I am now named sir Antony of Gueuara: yea and al∣so your Lordship doth know, that first there were Earles in Gueuara, before there were Kings in Castile.

This linage of Gueuara, bringeth his antiquitie out of Bri∣taine: and dothe containe sixe houses of honour, in Castile: whiche is to wete, the Earle of Onate, in Alaua: sir Ladron of Gueuara, in Valldalega: sir Peter Velez of Gueuara in Salinas: sir Diego of Gueuara in Paradilla: sir Charles of Gueuara in Murcia: sir Beltran of Gueuara in Morata. All which be valiant of persones, although poore in estates & rentes: in such sorte, that those of this linage of Gueuara, do more aduaunce them∣selues of their antiquitie, from whence they are descended, than of the goods which they possesse.

* 1.112A man to discend, of a delicate bloud, and to haue noble or Generous parents: doth muche profite to honour vs, and doth not blunte the launce to defende vs: for that infamie

doth tempt vs to be desperate: and the honour, to mende our estate. Christ and his Mother would not descend of the tribe of Beniamin, whiche was the least, but of the tribe of Iuda, which was the greater and the better.

They had a law in Rome, named Prosapia, which is to say, the law of linages, by which it was ordained and commaun∣ded in Rome, that when contention did arise in the senate for the consulship, that those which discended of the linage of the Siluians, of the Torquatians, and of the Fabritians, should obtain chiefe place before all others: and this was done after this manner, for that these thrée linages in Rome were most aun∣cient, and did descend of right valiant Romaines.

They whiche descended of Cato in Athenes: of Licurgus in Lacedemonia: of Cato in Vtica: of Agesilaus in Licaonia:* 1.113 and of Tussides in Galacia: were not onely priuiledged in their pro∣uinces, but also amongst all nations much honored. And this was not so much for the desert of those that were liuing, as for the merite of the auncient personages that were dead.

Also it was a lawe in Rome, that all those that descended of the Tarquines, of the Escaurians, Catelines, Fabatians, and Bithi∣nians, had no offices in the commō wealth:* 1.114 neither yet might dwell within the compasse of Rome. And this was done for the hate they bare to King Tarquin, the Consull Escaurus, the tyrant Catiline, the Censor Fabatus, and the traytour Bithinius: all which were in their liues very vnhonest, and in their go∣uernement very offensiue.

Sir, I say this, bicause a man to be euill, descending from the good, surely it is a great infamie: but to descend of the good, and to bée good, is no small glorie. But in fine, it is with men as it is with wines: sometime he sauors of the good soyle, sometime of the caske, & others of the goodnesse of the grapes. A minde not to flie, a noblenesse in giuing, swéete and cur∣teous in speach, an heart for to aduenture,* 1.115 and clemencie to pardon: graces and vertues be these, that are rarely founde in a man of base soyle. And many times suche one is extract of an auncient and Noble linage. As the worlde nowe goeth,

vpon who art thou, and what art thou, it doth not séeme to me, a man may haue better blason in his house, than to be, and also descended of a bloud vnspotted. For that such a man shall haue whereof to commend himself: and not wherefore to be despised or taunted.

Sir also you say in your letter, that I am in body large, high, drie, and very straight: of which properties I haue not whereof to complaine, but wherefore to prayse my self. By∣cause the wood that is large, drie, and straight, is more estée∣med, and bought at a greater price. If the greatnesse of bodie displeased God, hée had neuer created Paulus the Numidian, Hercules the Grecian, Amilon the wilde woodman, Sampson the Hebrewe,* 1.116 Pindarus the Thebane, Hermonius the Corinth, nor Hena the Ethicke: whiche were in the greatnesse of their bodies, so monstrous, and so fearefull, that other men séemed in their presence, as Crikets or Grashoppers do séeme be∣fore men.

The first King of Israell, which was Saule, how much diffe∣rence is betwixt the shoulders and the crowne of the head, so much was he higher than all the men of his kingdome.

The great Iulius Caesar, was of bodie high and leane, al∣though of face, not very faire. It is sayd of Augustus the Em∣perour, that he was so highe of stature, that of the high trées, with his owne hands he did gather fruite.

Also it is written of the Consull Silla, that his greatnesse was so excessiue, as hée alwayes stouped to enter at euery doore.

Titus Liuius sayth, that Scipio the Affrican was of so great a stature, that none was equall to him in minde, neither did passe him in heigth of bodie.

* 1.117Plutarch sayth of Alexander the Great, that according vnto such a minde as he possessed, vnto the world it did seeme they had more than inough of Alexander: and to Alexander it did séeme, that for himselfe the whole world was not sufficient.

Sir this do I say in the ende, hereby to consider howe the heart of man may be contained in a little bodie: Since vnto

it, the whole world séemeth very straight: A man, to be very great or very little: of these two inconueniences, the lesse is to be great, bycause the large garment easely is made lesse, but that whiche is too little without blemish or deformitie, cannot be made greater.

Allonso Henricus, Aluergomes, Salaia, Valderrauano, and Fi∣gueroa, whiche be little of bodie, although not of minde, euer as I sée them go in Court, séeme to me to be proude, furious, troubled, and angrie. And of this I do not much meruayle: bycause little chimneys alwayes be somewhat fumishe or smokie.

In the Monastery of Toros, of Guisando,* 1.118 I found there a ve∣ry little Frier, whiche for that I knockt thrice arowe, he did braule with me very frowardly, and when I sayde vnto him, that he had little pacience, he made me aunswere, that I had lesse good maner: I intreated him to giue me some drinke, and that we might cease chiding, where vnto he answered: Bro∣ther, although you sée me, you knowe me not: I giue you to vnderstand, that I am, as you sée but little, but there withall I am a péece of stéele, and suche greate men and vnweldie as you are, if they speake to me by day, by night they dreame of me: for this other day I caused my self to be measured, and founde the heart to haue aduauntage of the body fiue yardes in measure, whereunto I replied: father, therof is great ne∣cessitie, that the heart haue fiue yardes of measure in heigth, since in all your body there is not two Cubites and a half: but after the father heard this, he ceased to chide, and also left me without drinke.

Sir beleue me, the short haquebuts soonest breake, the sma∣lest fortes be soonest besieged: the shalowest Seas do soonest drowne: in y^e narowest waies is greatest peril: the straytest garments be soonest rent: and little men bée soonest angrie.

In little beasts,* 1.119 there is not such strēgth neither such grace as in the great: bycause the Elephant, the Dromedary, the Ox, the Bul, & the Horse, which be great beasts do profite for seruice. But the Flie, the Rat, the Flea, the Grashopper, and

the Criket serue not but onely to offend.

And also you note me, that in saying of seruice I am very long, and in contemplation not short, and likewyse as tedious therein as M. Prexmus in telling his tale. But I promise your Lordship, that if I be long in praier, your Lordshippe is not shorte in communication: for many times I haue seene you begin a long tale that I neuer durst tary the end therof: for if I had so done, either I should come to the court at none, or goe to bed at midnight.

Sir I do conferre the moments of my contemplations, with the sinnes of my life, and I do find by my rekoning, that it is not a iust thing to be large in sinning, and short in pray∣ing. The maker and redéemer of the worlde, did vse great measure in all things, except in praying: wherin he was al∣wayes long, which he shewed most clearely in the garden of Gethsemany, where, how muche the more the agony did op∣presse him, so much the more did he enlarge his prayer.

Also your Lordship doth say, that in preaching I am long and tedious, wherto I answere: that in the whole world there is no long sermon, if the hearer do giue eare as a Christian, and not as to curious. I remember the lent past being with your Lordship, they presented vnto your honour, certaine Samons of Penia Melera, whiche you praised for very good, and yet complained that they were very little. In such sorte that your Samons are neuer sufficiently large, or sermons short inough.

* 1.120It is thirtie eight yeares since I was brought to Caesars Court, during which time, I haue séene all things increasing, except sermons, which alwaies doe stand at one staye. This séemeth to be true, for that in our eating we adde more time, in our sleeping we consume more houres, all our garmentes hold more cloth, our houses are more large, our expences more excessiue, our apparell more costly, and the men more vicious. Finally, I say that in our talke, or in any other thing no syse is suffered, but in sermons whiche must not passe a∣boue an howre.

Wheras your Lordship saith, I am so short in writing: to this I aunswere, that if I be not deceyued,* 1.121 to talke there née∣deth but a certaine liuelinesse, but to write, it is necessary to haue muche wisedome: because, to proue if a man be wise or foolish, there is no other néed, than to put a paire of spurres to his héeles, or a pen in his hand.

In all things I confesse my selfe to be large, except in wri∣ting, which I repent nothing: for an inconsidered woorde, I may incontinent reuoke: but the firme of my hand I can not denie. To speake something with too much simplicitie or in∣considered, is a sheepishnesse, but to firme it with the hand, is meere folly.

Salust saith, that if the tyrant Catilene and other his felowes had not firmed the letter of their coniuration (although they were accused) they had not bene condemned: in such wise, that as well killeth the penne as the launce. If Laertius, Plutarch, Plinie, Vegetius, Sulpitius, and Eutropius doe not deceiue vs by their histories: many Poetes, Orators, Philosophers, Kings, & Princes, haue bin in the worlde past, of whome it is read, that in their talke they were very large, but in their wri∣tings very considerate.

Caesar in a letter that he did write from the Persicke war∣res of Rome, said no more but these wordes, Veni, vidi, & vici,* 1.122 I came, I haue séene, and I ouercame.

Octauius the Emperour, writing vnto his Cousin Caius Drusius, said thus: For that thou art in Illiria, remember thou art of the Caesars, that the Senat hath sent thée, and that thou art a yong man, my nephew, and a Citizen of Rome.

The Emperour Tiberius writing vnto his brother ger∣main, said thus: The Tēples be reuerenced, the Gods be ser∣ued, the Senate in peace, the common wealth in prosperitie, Rome in health, Fortune gentle, and the yeare fertile: this is here in Italy, the same we desire vnto thée in Asia.

Cicero writing vnto Cornelius sayeth thus: Bée thou mer∣ry since I am not euill, for likewise I shall reioyce, if thou be well.

The diuine Plato, writing from Athens vnto Dionysius the tirant, saith thus: To kill thy brother, to demaund more tribute, to force thy people, to forget me thy friende, and to take Photion as an enimie, be workes of a tyrant.

The great Pompeius writing from the East vnto the Se∣nate, saith thus: Conscript Fathers, Damascus is taken, Pen∣tapolis is subiect, Syria, Colonia, and Arabia is confederate, and Palestina is ouercome.

The Consull Cneius Siluius, writing newes of the battel of Pharsalia vnto Rome, saith thus: Caesar did ouercome, Pom∣peius is dead, Rufus is fled, Cato killed himselfe, the gouerne∣ment of Dictator is ended and the libertie lost.

Behold Sir, the manner that the ancients vsed in writing to their peculiar friends, which with their breuitie gaue vn∣to all men wherefore to be noted, but we in neuer making an end, giue large occasion to be corrected. No more, but that I pray the Lord to be your protector, and giue me grace to serue him.

From Valiodolid, the eight of October, in the yere. 1525.

A letter vnto the Marques of Pescara, wherein the Authour doth touch, what a Captaine ought to be in the warres.

BEing with Caesar in Madrid the .xxij. of March, I receiued a letter from your Lordship, writ∣ten the .xxx. of Ianuary: and God be my wit∣nesse, that when I sawe and read it, I would rather the date thereof had bin, not from the siege of Marcellus, but from the conquest of Ie∣rusalem. For, if it were from Asia, and not from France, your iourney should be more famouse and magnified, and of God much more accepted.

Titus Liuius reporteth of no small variance betwixt Mar. Marcellus, and Quintus Fabius, which did arise vpon the Cen∣fulships of the warres, for that the good Mar. Marcellus would not be Captaine of the warre, which was not very well iusti∣fied? And Quintus Fabius did not accept to go to the warres,

were it not very daungerous.* 1.123 The Romanes were in a mar∣uelous vaine glory in that worlde, when these twoo noble Princes were borne: but in the ende, muche more was the estimation of Marcus Marcellus (for being iust) than of Quint. Fab. for being valiaunt.

The Romanes were neuer so foyled, or euer did incurre so muche dishonor in the warres of Asia, either in Africa, as they receiued at the siege of Numantia. And this was not for de∣faulte of batterie, eyther bicause the Citie was very strong,* 1.124 but for that the Romanes had no reason to make them warre. And the Numantines had iust cause to defend themselues.

Helie the Spartan doth say, that onely the Emperour Traian was hee, that neuer was ouercome in battell. And the reason thereof was this, that he did neuer take any warre in hand, wherein he did not iustifie his cause.

The King of Pontus whiche was called Mithridates, dyd wryte a certaine Letter vnto the Consull Silla, being bente in warres moste cruelly the one against the other, wherein was thus written: I doe muche wonder of thée Consull Sil∣la, to take warre in hande in so straunge a lande as this of mine: and that thou darest aduenture to deale with my great fortune, since thou knowest shée neuer deceiued mée, neither had acquaintance with thée. To these woordes the Consull did answere: Oh Mithridates, I weighe it very little to holde warre farre from Romae since the Romanes haue fortune al∣wayes by them. And if thou say, that she did neuer fayle thée, nor euer know mée, thou shalt now sée, how (in vsing hir of∣fice) she shall passe to mée, and take hir leaue of thée. And al∣though it be not so, I do neither feare thée, or doubte hir, for that I hope that the Goddes will do more for my iustice, than for thée thy great fortune.

Many times the Emperoure Augustus vsed to say: that warres to be good, must be incommended vnto the Goddes,* 1.125 accepted of Princes, iustified of Philosophers, and executed of Captaines.

Thus much I haue saide vnto your Lordship, to this end,

that if your warre had bin vpon Ierusalem: it were to be hol∣den for iust, but for that it is vpon Marsellius, alway we hold it for scrupulous. The kings hart is in the hand of God, saith the diuine scripture. If it be so, who may attaine vnto this so great a secret? whiche is to wéete, that the Kings hart, being in Gods hand, he dare offend God: which doth appeare most cleare, in that we see no other thing but warres amongst the Christians: and leaue the Moores to prosper and liue in rest. This businesse to me is so difficulte, that although I cā speak thereof: I know not, how to vnderstand it: since all day wée sée no other thing, but that God doth permitte by his secrete iudgements,* 1.126 that the Churches where they prayse him be de∣stroyed and throwen downe: and the cursed remaine sound and frée, where they do offend him.

Your Lordship is a Christian, a good man at armes, my neare kinseman, and my speciall friend, any of which things doth much binde me to féele your trauaile, and to be gréeued with your perill: I speake of trauell to the bodie, bycause the Captaine that holdeth much of his honour, ought to estéeme little of his life: I say perill vnto the soule, bicause amongst Christians there is no warre so iustified, that in the same re∣mayneth not some scruple.

Herein your Lordship shall sée that I desire to saue you, in that I will not delite you with lies:* 1.127 But only to say vnto you that which I do conceiue, to the end that afterwards you may do what is méete. If you know not wherunto you are bound, I wish your Lordship to vnderstand, it is, that the Captaine generall do auoyde vniust wrongs, correct blasphemers, suc∣cour innocents, chastise quarellers, pay his armie, defend the people, auoyde all sackings, and obserue fayth with the ene∣mies.

Assure your selfe my Lord, that there shall come a time, in whiche, you shall giue an accompt to God, and also to the king: not onely of what you haue done, but likewise of that whereunto you haue consented.

Sir Iohn of Gueuara was your Grādfather and my cousin,

and he was one of the Gentlemen at armes,* 1.128 that passed out of Spayne, into Italy with the King Sir Alonso, and there did helpe to get this kingdome of Naples, and in recompence of his seruice, hée made him Lorde greate Seneshall of the kingdome. Of whiche you may gather, howe muche your Lordship ought to trauell, to leaue suche another renoume vnto your successours, as hath bene left vnto you by your predecessors.

As Cicero sayth, writing vnto Articus, this name Knight or Gentleman, the Romaynes did neuer admit, either consent to entitle those that could gather muche riches, but suche as had bene at the victory of many battailes.

That Knight or Gentleman that doth not imitate the va∣liant actes of his predecessours, ought not boast himselfe,* 1.129 to descend of them. For, how much the more renoumed the life of the fathers is, so much the more are the children to be ac∣cused, for their negligence. To presume much of no more but to descend of Noble parents, I say is a thing most vaine. To blason a mans owne proper déedes is foolishnesse: but in the end of these two extremities, he is more tollerable that prayseth his owne vertues, than he that boasteth himselfe of other déedes.

When amongst Knights or Gentlemen talke is of armes,* 1.130 a Gentleman ought to haue great shame to say, that he read it, but rather that he saw it. For it is very conuenient for the Philosopher to recount what hee hath read, but the Knight or Gentleman it becommes to speake of things that hée hath done. The Consull Marius, when he was resident in Rome, and also in the warres, many times would say: I confesse that I am extract of linage obscure, and also I acknowledge that I haue no armes of my predecessors, for that they were not florishing Captaines. But iointly with this, they that are now aliue can not denie, that in the temples I haue erected pictures or counterfets, I haue receiued in my body many woundes, and in my house many enseignes: none of which I do enherite of my predecessours, but haue wonne thē of mine

enimies. And Marius saide more: Your predecessors left you riches to enioy, houses wherein to dwell, slaues to serue you, gardens to delight in, fame whereof to boaste, and armour wherwith to venter: but they haue not left you vertue, wher∣of you might presume. Of which déede, Oh you Romaynes, ye may inferre, that it is very little that he doth enherite, which doth not enherite the vertues of his predecessors.

I thought good to aduertise you of these things, to the end that in remembring the fame and noblenesse of such men as were your predecessours, you should muche more estéeme to imitate their vertuous actes, than too haue their armes sette forth and drawen at large. I am deceiued, if I did not sée in Caesars court, a certaine gentleman of more than a Quent of rent, whiche I did neuer sée haue a horse in his stable, either launce in his house, neither yet commonly did weare his sword, but onely a Dagger that was very little. But on the other part, when he began to recount the doubty déedes of his forefathers, it séemed that he daunted Lions.

* 1.131Men do now estéeme to paint their armes in their houses, to graue them in their seales, to place them in their portals, & to weaue them in their sumpter clothes, but none aduētureth to win them in the field: in such wise, that they hold armes, for others to behold: and not for themselues to fight.

One thing I will counsell your lordship: which for suche as are of your estate in the warres, is very necessary: And that is, aboue al things to be vigilant, & to haue great regard, that amongst the captaines of your army, there be vsed great secrecie: for in greate affayres there is neuer good successe, when they be discouered before they take effect. If Suetonius Tranquillus doe not deceyue vs: Iulius Caesar neuer sayde, to morow this shalbe done, and to day let this be done: but one∣ly to day this shalbe done, and to morrowe wée shall sée what wée haue too doe. Plutarche saithe in his politiques, that Lu∣cius Metellus, being demaunded of one of his Captains, when the battayle shoulde bée giuen, made aunswere: if I thought my shirt did knowe the leaste thought that is in my hart, I

woulde presently burne it, and neuer weare another. It were very well the affaires of warres, shoulde bée commo∣ned of many, but the resolution of them, to be vsed with few. For otherwise, they are like to be discouered before they bée concluded.

Also I thinke very well,* 1.132 that you take counsayle with men that be graue and of experience but not without consi∣deratiō, that they be wise, without rashnesse. For sometimes, more sound counsaile doth procéede from men of fewe yéeres, and of much habilitie, than from men that be opinatiue and of old yéeres.

Your Lordship hath great cause to consider howe to take aduise of men, that in their counsayles be headstrong,* 1.133 and in their déedes very rashe: for in daungerous cases that hap∣pen in the warres, it is lesse euill to retire, than to be loste. Alcibiades a Captaine amongst the Greekes, did vse to say, that men of bolde and valiant harts haue more néede of fortitude, to moue them to retire, than to abide their enemies. For not to flie, their honour doth moue them: but to retire, their wis∣dome doth constraine them.

In greate hazardes it is muche better that men submitte themselues to reason, than to hurle themselues into fortune: In all things your Lordshippe hath to imbrace counsaile,* 1.134 ex∣cept it be when you shall see your selfe in some sodaine daun∣ger: for in the warre, wée haue séene many Captaines lost, for no other cause, but for that when they should haue done a thing at the sodaine, they haue sit downe with great leysure to take counsell.

Also your lordship ought to admonish your armies, that in their forcible and necessary perilles, they shew not thēselues to be menns dismayed: for the warres be of suche qualities that the feare of some dismayeth the rest. Your Lordship may hold it for certaine: that the heart which is full of feare, must of necessitie be voide of hope. Those that go alwayes to the warres, neither ought to holde victorie for certaine, ey∣ther dispayre to obtaine it. For there is nothing wherein

fortune is lesse correspondent, than in the affaires of warre.

Brasidas the Greek, in the warres that hée held with the Thracians, when they did take by force of armes a certaine fort which he defended meruailous valiantly, being demaun∣ded by one of his enemies,* 1.135 why he had put him selfe within the same for his defēce, answered: I do sweare by the immor∣tall Gods, that she did rather commend hir self vnto me to be kept, than I vnto hir to be defended: Bycause in the end, I haue more certentie of hir to serue me for a sepulcher, than for a sauegard.

I will saye no more in this case, but craue of especiall fa∣uour: that in such wise ye behaue your selfe in these warres of Prouance, that it may séeme, and also be to all men notori∣ous, that you do more for the obedience of your Lord the Em∣perour, than to be reuenged of the French king. For otherwise God would take vengeance of your reuengement.

The penne of gold that you sent me I haue receiued, and so I beleue your Lordship shall receiue Marcus Aurelius, whiche I do send you: the difference betwixt the one and the other is, that in the Booke your Lordship may vnderstand my sim∣plicity, and in the pen there doth appeare your great bountie. No more, but that our Lorde be your protectour, and giue me grace to serue him.

From Valiodolid, the xix. of Au∣gust, 1524.

A letter vnto sir Allonso of Albornaz, wherin is touched, that it is a point of euill maner, not too aunswer too the letter that is written vnto him.

IF the Lady Marina your wife bée as well affected to your person, as my penne is offended at your slouthfulnesse: you may safely marrie without after repentāce. And I think not that I bind my selfe vnto a small matter in saying, that in your mariage you shall find no repentance, for surely, I wish too haue no more contrition of my sinnes, than many men haue

too think themselues maried.* 1.136 To contract matrimonie with a woman, is a thing very easie: but to sustaine it vnto the end, I hold it for very difficult. Whereby it comes to passe, that those which mary without respect, but only for loue, liue afterward with sorowe. Considering al the displeasures that proceede of the familie, then tediousnesse of the wife, the care for the children, the necessitie of the house, the prouision for the seruants, the importunitie of the cousins, and the sutes of the sonnes in law: Although of all these thinges the maried doth not repent him, at the least it doth tyre him.

The Philosoper Mirtho, being demaunded why hée did not marry, aunswered:* 1.137 bycause if the woman (whome I take in mariage) bée good, I shall spill hir, if she bée euill I must supporte hir, if she bée poore I must maintaine hir, if shée bée riche, I must suffer hir, if she bée foule I shall abhorre hir, it she be faire, I must watch hir, and that which is worst of al, for euermore I giue my libertye to hir that shall neuer gratifie mée. Riches bréedeth care, pouerty sorrow, sailing feare, eating heauines, going wearinesse: all which trauel∣les we se deuided amongst many, except amongst the maried where they ioyne altogither. For we seldome sée the maried man go without care, sorow, wearied, heauie, yea and al∣so sometime astonied, I say astonied, of that whiche maye happen vntoo him, and of that his wife may dare to do.

The man that doth encounter with a woman that is a dizard, foolish, a babler, light, a glutton, a chider,* 1.138 slouth∣full, a goer at large, vntractable, iealouse, absolute or dis∣solute: it were better for that man too bée a slaue to some honest man, than a husbande too suche a wife. It is a ter∣rible thing too suffer a man: but there is very much too bée knowen in a woman. And for no other cause more, than for that they knowe not too vse a measure in louing, or giue no ende in abhorring: I will not, or perchance, I dare not, saye more in this case. For if in the same I should occupie my selfe and giue libertie to my pen, I should want time to write, but not matter to speake.

Not without cause I saide, my pen was angry with your slothfulnesse, since halfe a yeare past I did write vnto you, and you haue not as yet answered me. And afterwards came Iohn de Occanio, and also with him you did not write: in suche wise, that on the one part I call you sluggish, and of the o∣ther part note you of negligence.

* 1.139Sir, you may take it for a rule, neuer to leaue him vnan∣swered that hath taken paine to write vnto you: For that the maister of the henchmen, which is Harnan Sanz de Minchasa, said vnto me, that none lost his worshippe for answering vn∣to a letter. To write to our better, is of necessitie: to answere our equall, is of will: but to write vnto our inferiour, is of pure vertue. Alexander the great did write vnto Pulion his bit maker:* 1.140 Iulîus Caesar to Rufus his gardiner: Augustus to Pā∣philo his smith: Tiberius to Escaurus his miller: Tullius too Mirto his tailer: and Seneca to Gipho his rent gatherer: wher∣of it may very wel be inferred, that basenesse doth not consist in writing or answering base persones, but to will or to do vile things.

* 1.141Paulus Aemilius writing vnto his plough man, said: I haue vnderstood what word thou didst send me by Argeus, and the aunswer of the same is, that I send thée another oxe, to yoke with that firce oxe, & also I sēd thée a cart redy drest: therfore eare that ground well, dresse the vines, purge the trées, and alway haue memorie of the Goddesse Ceres. Curius Dentatus béeing in warre with Pyrrhus King of the Epirotes, did write a letter vnto a carpenter, which said thus: Cneius Patroclus certified me, that thou dost worke in my house: take héed that the timber be dry, and that thou make the lightes towardes the south, that it be not high, that it be cléere, y^e chimney with∣out smoke, with two windowes, and no more but one dore. Alexander the great, writing vnto his smith, said: I send thée a horse, which the Athenians sent me: he and I did scape wounded from the battaile: breath him well euery day, cure wel his wounds, pare his foreféete, let him be vnshod, slit his nose, wash his necke, let hym not growe fat, for that no

fat horse may well endure with me in the field. Of the fa∣mous Phalaris the tirant, it is read,* 1.142 that neuer man did him seruice, that he did not gratifye: either write him a letter, that he dyd not aunswer.

So high and so great Princes, as bere we haue named too haue written to men so base and so vile occupations, is not written by historiographers too blemish them, but by the same to magnifie them. Of which we may gather, that: base∣nes doth not consist, in wryting or aunswering base persons. but in doing thinges scandolous or vnhonest. In this matter as in all other thinges, you may vse that boldnesse with me as with your selfe: but if vniuersally you vse to do the same with all men, it may be, if your frendes do note you of neg∣ligence, there shall not want that will accuse you of pre∣sumption.

To be noted angry, enuious, couetous, slothfull, wanton gluttonous, auaricious, certainly is a griefe:* 1.143 but to be noted of foolishnes, is an infamie, which giueth me occasion to saye vnto you, that to cal a man presumptuouse by a cunning ma∣ner of speach, is to call him foole.

In Caius Caesar there wanted no fortitude, for that he ouer∣came many people: either clemencie, for he pardoned his e∣nemies: either liberaliitie, for that he gaue kyngdomes: ei∣ther science, for that he wrote many Bookes: either fortune, for he was Lorde of all men: But he wanted good manner, which is the foundation of a quiet life.

Amongst the Romanes it was a custome,* 1.144 that when the Senate entred the Emperours house, they did vnto him a certaine great obeysance, and he did vse vnto them a certaine curtesie: in doing whereof, as he grew negligent, either for that he woulde not, or not remembring: the case was thus, that within fewe dayes after, they gaue him thrée & twentie stabs with a dagger: in such wise, that, y^e most Noble Prince lost his life for no greater matter, than for not hauing a lit∣tle good maner. The contrary of this Suetonius Tranquillus doth write of Augustus y^e Emperour, which being in y^e Senat,

or in the Colledge, did neuer sit downe vntill they were all set, and rendred the same reuerence that they gaue him, and if by chaunce his children entred the Senate house, neither did he consent that the Senators shoulde rise, either that his children should sit downe.

Sir, if you will not that men call you presumptuous: or to speake plainly, do call you foole, haue a care to be well ma∣nered: for with good maner, more than with any other thing, we withdraw our enemies, and do sustaine our friends.

Sir, I haue spoken with the Popes messenger, vppon the dispensations that you sent to haue, to marry with the Gen∣tlewoman the Lady Marina. Whiche wée haue agréed for thrée score ducates,* 1.145 and as he is a Venetian, and would not be counted a foole, he will first be payed, before you shall be dis∣patcht.

I haue spoken with Perianes as concerning the expedition of the priuiledge of the Iury, and as he was deaffe and moste dunch, I cried out more in speaking vnto him, than I do vse in preaching.

The newes of the Courte is, that the Empresse wisheth the Emperours comming, the Dames woulde marrie, the suters would be dispatched, the Duke of Veiar would lyue: Antony de Fonseca woulde grow young: Sir Rodrigo of Voria would enherit, & also Frier Denise wold be a Bishop. Of my selfe I giue you to vnderstand, that I am in possession of all the condicions of a good suter, that is to wit: occupied, solici∣ting, carefull, spent, suspicious, importunate, out of temper, and also abhorred: for that my Lorde the Archbishop of To∣ledo, and I go to the lawe for the Abbay of Baza, vppon which I haue for my parte a famous sentence. No more, but that our Lord be your protector, and giue me grace to serue him.

From Medina del Campo, the twelfth of Marche .1523.

A lerter vnto sir Gonsalis Fernandes of Cordoua, great Captaine: in which is touched, that the knight escaping the warres, ought not from thence forth to depart his house.

MOst renoumed & valiant Prince, my weake∣nesse to write vnto your mightinesse, my simplicitie vnto your prudencie, if it shall séeme vnto those that shal heare thereof to be a thing ouer proude, and to such as shal see it, to be ouer presumptuous, lette them lay the fault vpon your honour, which did first write vnto me, and not on me, that do answere with shamefastnesse.

Sir, I will trauell to satisfie your excellencie in all things that ye cōmaund me by your letter, vpon this condition: most humbly beséeching, that you do not so much consider what I doe say, as that which I would say. And for that (to a person of so greate an estate) it is reason to write with grauitie: I will trauell to be measured in the wordes I shall speake, and to be remeasured in the reasons I shall write. The diuine Plato in his Bookes of common wealth did say: That lesse greatnesse is not to be imputed to the honorable, to deale and be conuersant with the weake, than it is to stand and to coun∣tenance with the mightie: and the reason that he gaue for the same, is, that the Generouse and magnificent mā, vseth more force in taming his harte to stoupe vnto lowe things, than to take in hand graue, weightie, and high attempts. A mā of an high stature, receiueth more paine in stouping to the ground for a straw, than to stretch out his arme to reach a braunche. By this that I haue said, I would say, that this our hart is so puffed vp and so proude, that to rise vnto more than he may, it is life, and to descend to lesse than he is worth, it is death.

There are many things whiche God woulde not bring to passe by himself alone, to the end they shall not say, that he is a Lord absolute: either wil he bring them to passe by the hāds of the mightie, for that it shal not be sayd, that he taketh help of humaine fauour: and afterwardes he performeth the same

by the hand and industrie of some man beaten down of for∣tune and forgotten amongst men:* 1.146 wherein GOD sheweth his greatnesse, and filleth the same with his might.

The great Iudas Machabeus was lesse in body and much lesse in yeares, than his thrée other brethren, but in the end the good old Mathathias his father, to him onely did cōmend the defence of the Hebrewes: and into his handes did also resigne the armies against the Assyrians.

The least of the children of the great Patriarch Abraham was Isaac, but in him was established y^e right line of Christ, & on him al y^e Iewish people did fixe their eyes. The inheritāce of the house of Isaac came too Esau and not to Iacob: but after the daies of the Father, Iacob did not onely buy the inheritance of his brother Esau, but also did steale the blessing.

Ioseph the sonne of Iacob was the least of his brethren and the last of the eleuen Tribes,* 1.147 but in the ende it was he alone that foūd grace with y^e kings of Aegypt, & did deserue to inter∣prete their dreames. Of seuen sonnes that Iesse had, Dauid was the least, but in the ende, King Saul was of God repro∣ued, and Dauid King of Hebrewes elected. Amongst the mea∣ner Prophetes Heliseus was the least, but in the ende, vnto him and vnto none other was giuen a dubled spirite. Of the meaner sorte of the Apostles of Christ was S. Philip, and the meanest Disciple of Paule, was Philemon: but in the end, with them more than with others they did take counsaill, and in great affaires would take aduise.

Sir, it seemes to mée that agréeing with that which I haue saide, your Lordship wold not take counsell with other men, that be learned and wise, but with me that am the simplest of your friends. As your Lordship hath ben so long time in the warres of Italie, it is very seldome that I haue séene you, but much lesse, that I haue eyther spoken or bin conuersant with you, for whiche cause my friendship is to be holden for more sure and lesse suspitious, for that I loue you, not for the re∣wardes you haue giuen me, but for the magnificence that I haue séene in you. When one cōmes to seeke to be our frend,

maketh much to the matter, to consider the cause that moueth him to séeke the same: for if he be poore we must giue him: if he be rich, we must serue him: if he be fauoured, we must wor∣ship him: if he be wilfull, we must faune on him: if he be im∣patient, we must support him: if he be vicious, we must dissē∣ble with him: and if he be malicious, we must beware of him.

One of the great trauelles that vnprofitable friends bring with them is, that they come not to seeke vs,* 1.148 to the end to doe what we wil, but to perswade vs to doe what they will. It is great perill to haue enemies, and also it is greate trauell to suffer some kind of friendes: for to giue the whole hart to one is not much, but how much lesse, when amongst many it is reparted? neyther my condition may beare it, either within the greatnes of your estate may it be cōtained, that we should loue after such sort, neither in such maner to behaue oursel∣ues: for that there is no loue in this worlde so perfect, as that which holdeth no scruple of intereste.

Your Lordship saith in your letter, that you write not vnto me, for that I am rich or mighty, but because I am learned and vertuous. And you instantly desire me, that I write vnto you with mine owne hand some thing that maybe worthy to be vnderstood, and plesaunt to be read.

To that which you say, that you hold me to be wise, to this I aunswere, as Socrates did, whiche is too wit, that hée knew not any thing more certaine, but in perceyuing that he did know nothing.

Very great was the Philosophie that Socrates did inclose in y^e aunswere: for (as the deuine Plato doth say) the lesser part that we vnderstand not, is much more, than al that we know. In all this world there is not y^e like infamie, as a man to bée imputed ignorant, either the like kind of praise, as to bée called wise: bycause in the wise, death is very euil imployed, and in the foole life is much worse bestowed.

The tirant Epimethes, séeing the Philosoher Demosthenes wéep immeasurable teares for the death of a Philosopher, demaunded for what cause hée wept so muche, since it

was a straunge thing for Philosophers to wéepe. To this Demosthenes answered:* 1.149 O Epimethes, I do not wéepe bycause the Philosopher died, but for that thou liuest: and if thou kno∣west not, I will giue thée to vnderstand, which is: that in the scholes of Athens we do more wéepe, bycause the euill doe liue, than for the death of the good.

Also your honour doth saye, that you doe iudge me, to be a man solitarie and vertuous: might it please the diuine cle∣mencie, that in al this, and much more, you speake the truth: bycause, in case for one to be or not to bée vertuous, I dare venter to speake, that how muche sure it is, to be, and not too séeme to be, so daungerous it is to seeme to be, and not to be in déede.

* 1.150Man is naturally variable in his appetites, profoūd in hart, mutable in his thoughts, incōstant in his purposes, & indeter∣minable in his conclusions: wherof we maye well gather, that man is easie to knowe, and very difficile to vnderstand. Your excellencie giues me more honour, in calling me wise and vertuous: than I giue to intitle you Duke of Sesa, Mar∣ques of Bitonto, Prince of Guilache, and aboue all, great cap∣taine. For to my vertue and wisedome, warres can giue no impeachment, but your potencie and greatnes is subiect vn∣to fortune.

Your honour writeth vnto me, that I certifie you of my opinion, in that the king our master doth commaund now of new, that you passe once more into Italy, by occasion of the battell,* 1.151 that the Frenchmen of late haue ouercome at Rauen∣na, whiche in the worldes to come shall be so famous, as it was now bloudie. Vnto this answering your honour, I saye that you haue great reason to doubt: and vpon the same too vse counsell: for if you do not accomplishe what you be com∣maunded, the Kyng takes displeasure, and if you doe what they entreat you, you contend with fortune.

Two times your honour hath passed into Italy, and twice woon the kyngdome of Naples, in which two iorneyes, you o∣uercame the battell of Garrellano, and the battell of Chirinola,

and slewe the best people of the house of Fraunce. And that which is most of all, you brought to passe, that the Spanish nation of all the world were feared, and obtained vnto your selfe renoume of immortall memory.

This being true as it is, it were no wisedome,* 1.152 either sure∣tie, once more to returne thither to tempt fortune, which with none doth shew hir self so malicious and double, as with such as spend long time in the warres.

Hanniball, a Prince of the Carthaginians, not contented too haue ouercome the Romanes, in those great and famous bat∣tailes of Trene, Trasmene, and Canna, but as hée would al∣way force and wrestle with fortune, he came to be ouercome of those, which he many times had ouercome. Those that haue to deale with fortune, must entreate hir,* 1.153 but not force hir, they must heare hir, but not beleue hir, they must hope in hir, but haue no confidence in hir, they must serue hir, but not anger hir, they muste bée conuersant with hir, but not tempt hir. For that fortune is of so euill a condition, that when shee fauneth, she biteth, & when she is angred, she woundeth.

In this iourney that they commaund your honour, neither do I perswade you that you go, either diswade you to tary: Onely I say and affirme, with this third passage into Italy, you returne to put your life in perill, and your fame in bal∣lance. In the two first conquests, you obtaine honour with them that be present, fame for the worldes to come, riches for your children, an estate for your successours, reputation amongst straungers, credit amongst your owne, gladnes for your friends, and grief vnto your enemies. Finally, you haue gotten for excellencie, this renoume of great Captaine, not only for these our times, but also for the world to come.

Consider well what you leaue, and what you take in hand: for that it may rather be imputed for rashnes, than for wise∣dome, y^t in keping your house where al doth enuie, you should depart where al men should be reuenged.* 1.154 You ouercame the Turkes in Paflonia, the Mores in Granada, the Frenchmen in Chirinola, the Picardes in Italy, the Lombardes in Garellano, I

holde it to be doubted, that as fortune hath not more nations to giue you to ouercome, she will now leade you, where you shall be ouercome.

The Dukes, the Princes, the Captaines, and vnder Cap∣taines, against whom you haue fought, eyther they be deade, or else gone: In suche sort, that nowe against an other kinde of people you must deale and fyght. I sayd it, for that it may chaunce, that fortune which then did fauour you, now maye fauour them.

* 1.155To accepte warres, to gather people, to order them, and to giue battaile, it belongeth vnto men: but to giue victorie appertaineth only to God. Titus Liuius saith, that many times with greate ignomie the Romaines were ouercome at Furcas Caudinas, in the ende, by the counsell of the Consull Aemilius they changed that Cōsul which had the charge of that army: & where they were before that time ouercome, were frō thence forward conquerours of their enimies. Of whiche we may gather for our purpose, that chaunging the Captaines of the warres, ioyntly therwith fortune doth alter.

* 1.156In one self kingdome, with one self people, vnder one king, in one ground, and vpon one selfe quarell or demaunde, hope you not, that Fortune will alwayes be faithfull? For in the place where she hath vsed to be moste fauourable, it is hir de∣uise, by the same meanes, to shewe hir crueltie.

Rodrigo of Viuero did say vnto me, that your honour was not a little gréeued to sée that your departure was prolonged: and that the Kyng for this present helde it in suspense. And further he sayd vnto me, that you held it for so great displea∣sure, that if it were with an other that were your equal, you would demaund it at his hand as an iniurie. To heare this I do maruell, & am not a little, but muche offended: for I holde him not for a good beaste, that when they lade him wil stand stock still, and when they vnlade him, will yerke out behind. Since the soule goeth charged with sinnes, the hearte with thoughts, the spirit with temptations, and the body with tra∣uels: it is much conuenient for vs, that if maye not altoge∣ther

discharge oure selues of this burden at the least, that in some parte we lighten the same.

Your honour is not so yong a man, but that the more part of your life is past: and since the lyfe goeth consuming,* 1.157 and death approching: in my iudgement it should be better coun∣sell for you to occupie your selfe in bewayling your old sins, than of newe to shed the bloud of enimies.

It is nowe time, rather to wéepe than to fight: to withdraw youre selfe, than to vse libertie: to make a reckoning with God, more than with the king: to accomplish with the soule, and not with honour: to call vpon God, and not to prouoke with enemies: to distribute your owne, and not to take from others: to conserue peace, and not to inuent warres. And if in this case, your lordship will not beléeue me: from hence for∣ward I diuine, that then you shall begin to féele it, when you may not remedie the same.

Your honour deceyueth your self, or else I know not what to say, for that I sée you flée that you should procure, which is quietnesse: and you procure that which you should flée,* 1.158 which is disquietnesse. For there is no man in this world more vn∣fortunate, than he that did neuer experiment what thing it is to be reposed.

Those that haue trauailed throughout diuers landes, and haue had exprience of diuers fortunes, the thing y^t they most desire in this lyfe is, with honoure to sée themselues retur∣ned to their countrey. Of which it may be inferred, that it is great temeritie, that you alone wil rather go to die amongst strangers, than to liue with honor amongst your own. Vntil men haue gotten necessarie to eate, yea vntill they haue obtei∣ned also some surplusage also to giue, in my iudgement, they ought not much to be blamed, although they wander through out diuers kingdomes, and put themselues in great perilles.* 1.159 For he is as muche worthie reprehension, that doth not pro∣cure that whiche is necessarie, as he that ceasseth not to pro∣uide that which is superfluous.

After a man hath found that which he hath sought for, and

also perchaunce it hath happened him better than he thought of:* 1.160 if after he be retired vnto his house in great quietnesse, will returne to rubbe againe with the world, I dare be bold to speake it, that such a one eyther lacketh wit, or else fortune will be to him vnhappie. The diuine Plato doth saye in his bookes of common wealth, that Fortune is more contrary vnto that man, that he doth not suffer to enioye that which he hath, than vnto him, to whome he denieth what he craueth.

I doe beseche, and also aduise your honour, that after you haue red this sentence, that you turne againe and againe too read the same: for in my iudgement, this sentence of Plato is very true, and very profound, and also vsed of many. For al∣most we sée it by dayly experience, that many men can ob∣taine fame, honour, quietnesse, riches: and haue not the meane afterward to enioye them.

* 1.161Iulius Caesar was he that nature endued with most grace••, and to whom Fortune did giue most victories: and with all this, great Pompey did say of him: that hée had great hardi∣nesse to ouercome any battaile, but that afterwardes he did not vnderstand how to enioy the victory. If in the great re∣noumed battail of Canas: Hanniball had knowen how to enioy the conquest, he neuer afterwards in the fields of Carthage, by Scipio the Aphrican had bin ouercome.

Your Honour may take it as it pleaseth you, and vnder∣stand thereof as it may like you to cōmaund: but in my iudge∣ment, he is not so cruell an enemie y^t hurles his darte at me in the warres, as he that comes to driue mée from my house. Cōformable to that which I haue said, I do say: that since we can not flée from cares and trauelles, yet at the least, that we procure to auoid some displeasures thereof. For without comparison, much more be the offences that wée seeke vnto our selues, than be brought vnto vs by our enemies.

* 1.162I will say no more in this letter, but that the Gentleman Rodrigo of Viuero and I, haue talked some things worthie the vnderstanding, and perillous to be writtē. I commend them with trust vnto his noblenes here, & he shal relate them

vnto your excellencie there. No more, but our Lord be your protector, and vnto me giue grace to serue him.

From Medi∣na del Campo, the .viij. of Ianuarie .1512.

A letter to sir Enrique Enriques, wherin the Authour doth answer to many gracious demaundes.

RIght magnificent and my olde frend Valdiuia, your solicitour, gaue mée a Letter, the whiche séemeth verie well to be written with youre owne hande, for that it helde fewe lynes, and many blottes. As God made you a Knight, if he had made you a Scriuener, you woulde haue bene more handsome to colour Cordouan skinnes, than to haue written proces. Sir, alwayes frame, if you shall write any Letter to bée sente, that the lynes bée ryght, the Letters close, the reasons deuided, the letter legible, the paper cleane, the fol∣ding equall, the closyng smoothe, and the seale cléere:* 1.163 for it a lawe of Courte, in that whiche is written, the wysedome is vttered: and in the manner of writyng, good manner is knowne.

In the letter that was giuen mée, were contayned many demaundes vnder verie fewe woordes. And for that with one Turquois wée both will make but one shewe. The case shall be thus: to euery demaunde, I will answere onely one word. First you aske me, wherfore I came to the Courte: to this I answere, that I came not willingly, but constrained of necessitie, for the contention betwixte me and the Churche of Toledo: my comming was expedient to cléere my selfe, and to withdraw the lawe.

Also you demaund of me, what I doe in the Court:* 1.164 wher∣vnto I answer, that as my aduersaries do follow me, and my businesse enlarging: I do nothing but vndoe my selfe.

Likewise you will that I write vnto you in what thing I do imploy the time: to this I answere, that according to the fashion of vs Courtiers, beare euil will, blaspheme, loyter,

lye, trafike, and cursse: with more truth we may say of time, that we lose it, than employe it. Also you demaund, with whō I am moste conuersant in this Court: to this I answer, that the Court and the people therof, be grapes of so euill a soyle, that we that goe in the same, and from our childhode be brou∣ght vp therein, studie not with whome to be conuersant, but in discouering of whom to beware: with muche payne wée haue tyme to defende vs from oure enimies: and will you that wée occupie our selues in séeking newe friendes? In the Courtes of Princes I doe confesse there is a conuersation of persons, but no confederation of will: for here enimitie is holden for naturall, and amitie a straunger. The Court is of such nature, that they that do most visit them, the worse they doe entreate them: and such as speake beste vnto them, the more euill they do wish them.* 1.165 They which haunt the Courts of Princes, if they will be curious and no fooles, shall fynde many things wherat to wonder: and muche more whereof to beware.

Also you demaunde how the difference betwixt the Admi∣rall and the Earle of Myranda standeth: to this I answer, that the Admirall, as one of muche power, and the Earle, as one in much fauor, giues to eche other wherwith to be occupied, and to vs sufficient wherat to murmure.

Sir, you demaund what newes we haue of the Emperors comming: to this I answer, that which we presently vnder∣stand,* 1.166 is, that the Turke is retired, Florence is alyed, y^e Duke of Milane is reduced, the Venetians did amaine, the Pope and Caesar did consecrate, the Estates of Naples be reparted, the Coluna is deade, the Marques of Villa Franca is made Viceroy of Naples, the Prince of Orange is slayn, and vnto the Chan∣celer and to the Confessor, to either of them is giuen a Car∣dinals hat. Other secret news they write from thence, which be lamentable to such as be therewith touched, and gracious to those that heare therof, which is: many of those that went into Italie with Caesar, are became amorous, and in the artes of loue haue raunged too farre. But sir, in this case I sweare

vnto you, as it foundeth in myne eares,* 1.167 theyr wiues be here sufficientely reuenged of them, for if they leaue there any women greate with childe, also they shall fynde here theyr wyues brought a bed.

You will also that I write vnto you, howe it goeth wyth vs for vittailes this Lent: to this I aunswere, that by diuine grace we haue not wanted this lent fishe to eat, and also fins ynowe to confesse. For the case is come to such dissolution and vnshamfastnesse, that the Gentlemen hold it for an estate and aduancement of honour to eate fleshe in Lent.

Also you demaund if the Court be deare or good cheape, to this I answere, that my steward telleth me, that from Octo∣ber vnto Aprill, it hath cost me in wood and cole, an hundreth and fortie Ducates. The cause of this is, that this same towne of Medina as it is rich in faires, so is it poore in moū∣taines or woods, in suche sorte that the count being wel cast, the wood costs as deare as the dressing of the pot. Other thin∣ges are in this Court at a good price, or to say it better,* 1.168 very good cheap: that is to wit, cruel lies, false news, vnhonest wo∣men, fayned friendship, continuall enimities, doubled ma∣lice, vaine words, and false hopes, of whiche eight things we haue suche abundance in this Courte, that they may set out bouthes, and proclayme faires.

Sir you demaund of me, if there be good expedition of cau∣ses, for that you haue some to be dispatched:* 1.169 to this I doe an∣swere, as the things of the court be tedious, displeasant, long deferred, costely, intricate, vnfortunate, desired, besieged, la∣mented, and bescratched, I conceyue of mine own part, that if ten be dispatched, nintie be despited.

Also you will mée that I write vnto you if the faire be good thys yeare at Medina. To this I answer, that as I am a cour∣tyer and a suter, and haue neyther marchaundise to sell, and muche lesse money wherwith to buy: I knowe not whereof to prayse it, nor do I fynde why to mislyke it. But in passing thorough the faire, I sée in the bouthes of these Burgaleses, so many riche and pleasaunt things, that in beholding them, I

tooke great pleasure, and being not able to buy them, I was muche tormented. The Empresse came foorth to sée the faire, and as a Princesse most wise, wold not be accompanied with hir maids of honor, bicause the Gentlewomen that did serue hir, being so poore and so fewe, it coulde be no lesse, but that they would vse their libertie in asking fairings, and the gen∣tlemen should thinke it their partes to giue them.

Sir, you demaund if the Courte be in health, or if the pe∣stilence be thereaboutes: to this I aunswere, that of agues, tertians, and quartaines, plague sores, and such other infir∣mities of the body, we are al in health and verie well, excepte the licenciate Alarcon, that being relating a proces before the counsell, sodainly fell downe dead. And of a trouth, his death was to many in this Court very terrible,* 1.170 although I sée none to amende his lyfe by the same. Other infirmities be in this Courte, that bée not corporall, but spirituall, as angers, hatred, quarels, rancours, wrath, and slaughters: the whiche maladies doe consist, not that they go with bodies infected, but in the swelling of the splene, & corruption of the gall.

I haue turned many tymes to reade your letter: and haue not founde any more to aunswere. For of a suretie, it did ra∣ther séene an Interrogatorie to take witnesses, than a letter to a frend: I wil say no more, but that I haue escaped in wri∣ting vnto you, very wearie, & also angrie not for the answe∣ring to the matter, but in construing youre ill fauored letter. Our Lord be your protector, and giue me grace to serue him.

From Medina del Campo, the fift of Iune, in the yeare .1532.

A letter to sir Antonie of Cneua, wherin is expounded an au∣thoritie of holie Scripture, very notable, which is to wit why God did not heare the Apostle, and did heare the diuell against Iob.

MAgnificent sir, & particular beloued, Alonso Espinell gaue me a letter from your worship here in Toledo, the date whereof was the .12. of May, and it is nowe the .16. of Iune:

in such sort, y^t your letter neyther may by cōdemned for stale, either for fresh. Many from many partes do write vnto me: sometime their letters be suche, that to read them, it is very tedious, and to aunswere them, no lesse displeasant. To sée a letter ill written, and worse noted, neither is it to be taken in good parte, either may wée leaue to murmur thereat.* 1.171 The ploughman in plowing, dothe reuew his forough that it bée straight: and shall not a man haue regard to note and write his letter very well? There be many who wil as lightly take the pen in hād to write, as the glasse to drink: and that which is worst of all, they thinke much of themselues to be talking and writing. The which doth well appere in their letters, because the letter is illegible, the paper blotted, the lines crooked, and the reasons doltish. To knowe a man whether he be wise or foolish, is a great part to consider, whether he write vpon aduisement, and speake with iudgement, for a mā must not write what commeth to his memory, but what reason doth direct.

Plutarch doth say of Phalaris the tyrant, that he did neuer write but being alone, withdrawen, and with his own hand: whereof it doth follow, that although, al do blaspheme him for his tyranny, his letters wer praised throughout the world.

Of a trouth, a Gentleman and a kinseman of mine, did write vnto mée a letter of twoo shéetes of paper, and as he wrote so large, and not returning to read what he had writtē, the very same reasons, and the very same woords that he had put in the beginning, he did return to write in the end, wher∣at I was so much offended, that I burnt the letter,* 1.172 and made him no aunswere. Doubtles your letters are not of such qua∣litie, the whiche to me be very pleasant to reade, and not te∣dious to aunswere, bycause in iestes they are very pleasant, and in earnest, very wise.

Sir you say, that in reading the moralles of saint Gregory, you did note, and also did meruaile to sée, that the deuill did aske licence of God to do hurt vnto holy Iob, & it was graun∣ted him: and the Apostle S. Paule did pray vnto God to take

away the temptation of the flesh, and it was denied him. In such wise, that God heard the Deuill, and did not condiscend vnto the prayer of saint Paule. Maruell ye not sir of this: for the thinges that the diuine prouidence do bring to passe be so iust, and done for so iust causes: that although wée maye not reach them: they want not therefore reason, why they should not be done. If wée déepely consider what God did with the Apostle, wée shall finde, that it was more that God gaue him, than the Apostle did craue.* 1.173 Bycause, hée desired that the temptation of the flesh might be taken away: and God gaue him grace to ouercome it. What iniurie doth the Prince to the Captaine, that sendes him a warfare, if hée makes him sure to haue the victory? If absolutely God should haue taken away the temptation of the flesh, from the Apostle saint Paul: neither should there haue remayned occasiō to deserue, either should haue béen giuen grace to ouercome. For hée is more supported of God, to whom hée giueth helpe to conquere, than to him, that hée excuseth to fight. Let vs not despaire, afflict our selues, or bée ouer thoughtfull, and much lesse complayne and murmur of God: if forthwith hée giue not that whiche wée desire. For hée doth it not, with disfauour in that hée will not heare vs,* 1.174 but bycause he wil change it into a better cause. Hée knoweth what hée doth, and wée vnderstand it not: hée knoweth what hée doth denie, but wée not what wée aske: hée measureth all thinges with reason, and wée but with ape∣tite: hée dooth denie that is hurtfull vnto vs, and graunteth that which is profitable. Finally I doo say, that he doth know: how hée are to bée handled: and therfore, wée ought of him only to depend. The Apostle had séene the inuisible and diuine secrets, whiche of his forefathers had béen much desired but neuer séene: and bycause, of that so high reuelation, hée should not boast or grow proud,* 1.175 the Lord would not take away the concupiscence of the fleshe. In suche wise, that in recompence of not condescending to his desire, hée did take awaye the oc∣casion to sinne, and gaue him grace to ouercome. God vsed more pitie with saint Paule, in that hée would not heare him:

than if hée had heard him. For if hée should haue taken awaye the concupiscence of the flesh, it might haue come to passe that as much as hée had diminished in temptation,* 1.176 hée might haue increased in pride. When the Lord doth permit that one is tempted, it doth not followe therfore, that hée is of God ab∣horred: for my parte, I holde it rather a signe, that of God, hée is elect. For as saint Gregory sayth, there is not a greater temptation, than not to be tempted. Christ hath left the way to heauen marked: and the markes of this voiage be tribu∣lations, aduersities, mishappes, and infirmities. In such wise, that it is no other thing to be remembred of God: but that in this world he be permitted to be tempted. Let it be holden for certaine, that they of him are lost, whiche in this world, from aduersities be priuiledged. For the enemy of mankind, (whiche is the deuill) vnto all those that he hath registred for his owne, hée doth trauell, that they may liue in great wel∣fare and ease. Sir, also you saye,* 1.177 that you doe much maruail to sée the boldnesse that the Deuill had in asking licence of God, to hurt holy Iob: and to sée the liberalitie that God vsed in giuing it. In such sort, that he denied S. Paule, that he de∣sired, and graunted the Deuill, that whiche hee craued. Sir, although you haue no reason, yet haue you some occasion to demaund that whiche you aske: for of a suretie, it as an hard thing to consent that our enemy do hurt vnto our friend. That whiche I dare speake in this case, is that it is lesse, pernicious, and of more worthinesse to suffer ill, than to haue authoritie to do euill. And after this maner wée haue more enuie of holy Iob, in that hée suffred, than vnto the de∣uill, for that whiche he did. It ought to be farre distant from the diuine will, that he that hath to giue grace to serue him, should giue licence to offend. It is a great euill for a man to be euill: but it is much worse to make him euil, which is good. Bycause, our owne proper sinnes God doth well sée, they procéede of weakenesse: but the persecuting of the good, al∣wayes groweth of malice. If men do aske of God vppon their knées, that hée giue grace to serue him, they ought to aske

with teares that he do not giue them place, to offend him. For in the ende,* 1.178 if I do not good workes I shall haue no reward: but if I doe euill, for the same I shall haue paynes. By Caine, Abell was slaine: by Esau, Iacob was persecuted: by Saule, Da∣uid was banished: by Nabugodonoser, Ierusalem was burned: by Achab, Micheas was imprisoned: by Zedechias, Esaias was sawen: and by the Diuell, holy Iob was afflicted. Man by the multitude of his sinnes, doth deserue to be an offence, and a scourge of the good. Much did the Diuell offend Iob, in temp∣ting him: but much more did holy Iob deserue in suffering that temptation. Bycause in the persecutions of the iust, God doth more behold the pacience of him that suffreth, than he doth the malice of him that doth persecute.

Also you will, that I write vnto you, what it was I prea∣ched this other day vnto the Emperour, which is to wit, that the Princes which tyrānously gouerne their common weal∣thes, haue more cause to feare good men, than those that be euill. Sir, that whiche I sayde in this case was, that the ty∣rants whiche in the common wealthes haue offices of most preheminence, haue much more respect to the bountie of the good,* 1.179 than to the conspiracies of the euill. For that amongst many other thinges, this priuilege is cōtayned in vertue: that is to vnderstand: amongst the least inferiors it giueth dismay: with the equall, it moueth enuie: and to the great & mightie, it yeldeth feare. The Siracusan Dionisius, had more feare of the diuine Plato which was in Grecia, than of al the enemies he had neare him in Cicilia. Kyng Saule had more respect to the deseruings of Dauid, than to the armies of the Philistines. The proud Aman,* 1.180 that was so priuate with Kyng Assuerus, was more grieued with the good Mardocheus, that he held him in no reuerence, than with all the rest of the kyngdome. Herod Escalonite, did hold in more reuerēce, and also did more feare only Iohn Baptist, than all the kingdome of Iudea. Fi∣nally, I do say and affirme, that none may with a troth say or affirme that he hathe an enemie, but when he hath some good man to his enemie. Bycause the euil man doth hurt with

his knife, but the good, doth hurt with his credit. Sir, alwaies haue regard, not to striue or contend with a man that natu∣rally is good, and hath credite in the common wealth with all men. For, he shall do you more hurt with his word, than you shall offend him with a blowe of a launce.

Sir as touching the Commendathor, Iohn of Towres, that would not the gouernment this yéere,* 1.181 which the gouernours had giuen him, saying: that he deserued better, and that the king when he shall come from Flaunders will giue him more: to this I aunswere, that it seemeth to me lacke of wit, and also a surplusage of foolishnesse, to leaue a reward certaine, for a hope doubtfull.

Sir, also you coniure me that I write vnto you, what I thought of the Lorde President, Sir Antony de Roias, when I talked with him in your businesse: to this I aunswere, that hée séemeth to mée sharpe in his aunsweres, and wise in his dealings. I do not like well with many of this Court,* 1.182 that depraue him for his speache, and do not afterwards consider of his doings, as it is true, so likewise many of our fréends giue vs wordes by Kintals, but workes by the ounce.

Also you will mée that I write vnto you what I iudge of the Embassadour of Venize, for that I am conuersant with him, and hée confesseth himself with me. Sir, I can tell you, that hée is in science learned, in his life reformed, and in con∣science much considerate. And it may bée sayde by him, thatwhich Plato saide by Phocion his friend: he did more loue to bée, than séeme to be vertuous. In the other secrete and par∣ticular businesse, that Alonso Espinell commoned with mée off, in your behalf,* 1.183 with the same faith that your worship sent me the message: receyue yée also the aunswere.

From Toledo the .xxx. of Iune, in the yeare of our Lord. 1525.

A letter vnto Master Frier Iohn Beneuiades: wherein is expoun∣ded, that which is sayd in the scripture, that the euill spirite sent of God, came vpon Saule.

REuerend and welbeloued Father, the letter that your fatherhod made in Salamanca, I haue receiued héere in Soria: the which forth∣with I read, and afterwardes many times did turne to reade: For that I receyued very great consolatiō in remembring my self from whom it came,* 1.184 and in noting what it contained. In the let∣ter of a very friend, the spirits do reioyce, the eyes delight, the hart is recreated, friendeship confirmed, and the vnderstan∣ding is comforted. For Plutarch sayth in the book of the fortune of Alexander: that the great Alexander did neuer reade the let∣ters whiche tyrantes did send him, eyther did teare the let∣ters that Philosophers did write vnto him. All the letters, that Marcus Antonius did write vnto Cleopatra, and all the letters that Cleopatra did write vnto Marcus Antonius, were found by the Emperoure Augustus very well laide vp, after the death of Marcus Antonius. The letters that Cicero did write to Publius Lentulus, to Atticus, to Rufus, to Fabarius, and to Dru∣sius, which were his familiar frends, were all found in their keping, and not in his originall.

As co••cerning that your fatherhode wryteth, and by this letter comaund me to write: it may be very well answered: as saint Agneda did answer the virgin Lucie, which is to wete, Quid a me petis Lucia Virgo? nam ipsa poteris praestare continuò matri tuae. In this case, and in this demaund, I can not tell whe∣ther of vs deserueth more paine, your fatherhode, for temp∣ting my patience, or I, in aduenturning my selfe to publishe my ignorance. For hée is not worthy lesse fault that sinneth, than hée that is the cause of sinne. Si nequeo ascendere in montem cum Loth: ad minus saluabor in Segor. I would say, that if your fatherhode, bée not satisfied with that whiche I shall aun∣swere, it maye please you to bée satisfied with that I would

aunswere. For as Plato sayd, hée that doth trauel not to erre, misseth very narowly.

You will that I write vnto you, what I iudge, and how I vnderstand that text, whiche is written in holy scripture, 1. Regum cap. xvj. where it is said, speaking of King Saul and of his infirmitie: Spiritus Domini malus arripiebat Saulem.* 1.185 The fyrst King of Israell was named Saul, he was chosen of the Tribe of Beniamin, which was the last Tribe of all y^e Tribes: and in the second yeare of his raigne, an euill spirit sent of God did vex him, whiche would not come out of him, neyther leaue to torment him, vntill the good King Dauid came before him, to play and to sing. But now the dout is, how it may be vnderstoode, and agrée withall, that the scripture should say, the euill spirit of the Lord did take Saul: if the spirit were of the Lord, how was he euell? and if he were euill, how was he of the Lord? it séemeth an hard thing, and not intelligible, to say of the one part, that that spirit which held Saul, was of the Lord: and of the other part, to say that the spirit was euil. But if the spirite were of the Lord how was he then euil? and if he were euill, how was he of the Lord? For the vnder∣standing hereof, it is to be noted, how it is written in the 1. Regum cap. xxvj. that Dauid being compassed with the armie of King Saul, who sléeping on a night in his tent, Dauid did passe thorough the middes of his campe, and toke from the Kinges beds head, the launce that he fought withall, and a cruse of water, wherein he vsed to drink: and in this passage, he was neither séen of the watch, nor perceiued of the scout. And why? Quia sopor Domini irruit super eos: to saye, as the Scripture saith, that the sléepe of the Lord fell vppon them, is most true: but to say, that God doth sléepe, and hath néede of sléepe, is a great mockery. For, as the Psalmist doth saye, Ecce non dormitabit neque dormiet qui custodit Israel. Whē the scrip∣ture doth say: Quòd sopor Domini irruit super eos: that God had sent a dead sléepe vpon them: it is to be vnderstoode: non quòd ipse dominus dormiret: Sed quia eius nutu infusus esset: ne quisquam presentiam Dauid sentiret. The diuine prouidence would cast a

sléepe vpon King Saul, and vpon his watch, and vpon those of his Campe: not for their recreation, but for the safe kéeping of Dauid: in such wise, that in God, his sléepe and his proui∣dence is one self thing: the Lord is so zelouse of his elect, and so vigilant to preserue them, that he doth not only giue them grace to performe good purposes, but also doth direct them al∣waies by good meanes: in suche wise, that although hée doth permit them to trauaile, he doth not consent that they perish.

But comming to the purpose, that after the maner, that the Scripture is to be vnderstood, Sopor Domini irruit super eos: after the same manner, is vnderstand, Spiritus Domini malus arripiebat Saulem. And for farther declaration of this I say: Quod si Diabolus tentationem iustis semper inferre cupiat: tamen si à Domino potestatem, non accepit: nullatenus adipisci potest, quod appe∣tit. The spirite that did tempt and torment King Saul: for this cause he is called an euill spirite: for that the will of the Deuill in tempting vs, is euill. And for this purpose, he is named the spirite of the Lorde: for that the power which the Lord doth giue him to tempt vs, is good. When God dothe giue licence to any Diuell, that he go to vexe and disquiet a∣ny iust man: it is not Gods intention, that he tempt him, but to exercise him: bicause vertue is of such qualitie, that it grow∣eth mortified, when it is not exercised with trauailes. The wheat whiche is not turned, is eaten with wiuels. The gar∣ment that is not worne,* 1.186 is eaten with mothes: the timber that is not seasoned, is spoiled with chest lockes: the frō that is not wrought, doth consume with ruste: bread long kept gro∣weth finnowed.* 1.187 By this that I haue saide, I would say, that there is not any thing that turneth vs to more weakenesse & negligence: than to be a certaine time without temptations. Much more care hath God of vs, than we of our selues: for in the end, as our worthinesse is litle, and but to smal purpose, if we do quaile, he doth comfort vs: if we lie downe to sleepe, he waketh vs: if we be wearied, he helpeth vs: if we grow fear∣ful, he doth encorage vs: if we grow negligent, he doth intice vs. Finally I say, that leauing our selues vnto our owne

power, wée permit our selues to fall, and he alone giues the hand to lift vs vp.

Also holy Iob was tempted of the euill spirit of the Lord, not because there was any notable fault in the man: but for that ther raigned in the Diuell enuie and malice. For cursed sathan had not enuie of the great goods that Iob had, but of the excellent life that he led. At the instant that one is euill, he doth desire that all be euill: if he bée sclaundered, that all be defamed: in such wise, that ther is not so perillous an enuie, as that whiche euill men haue of those whiche be good and vertuous: If one be good and ritch, and liue by one that is euill and malicious. First, he that is euill, dooth trauell to take away the credit the good man hath, before he vseth force to spoile him of his goodes.

Abrabam was tempted when it was commaunded that his onely sonne shoulde be sacrifized. Tobie was tempted when he lost his sight. The holy Iob was tempted, when they killed his children, tooke his goods, and filled him with the mangie: in which temptatiōs those holy men suffered much;* 1.188 and also loste much: but at the time of repayment he did not giue them reward according to the goods they lost, but accor∣ding to the patience they vsed. Since it is certain that all passions or troubles, eyther God doth send them, or else do come by the hand of God, it is reason that we take them as sent by the hand of God, who is so iust in that he commaun∣deth, and so limited, in that hée permitteth,* 1.189 that he doth neuer suffer vs to be tempted aboue our strength. With men that be of a good life, and doe kepe rekening with their conscience: the licence whiche God giueth to the Diuill to tempte them, is surely limited, and the patience that hee giueth them, is very bountifull, & de hoc bactenus sufficit.

The Controler Hinestrosa came from the Court this way to sée me, whiche came in suche distresse, for that he had gone thither, he him repented, and for that hée had staied, hée was despited, and for that whiche had happened, he was abhorred: in suche sorte, that to heare him report his great trauelles,

moued me to weigh my owne as light. Men in sadnes ought not to séeke comfort of those that be merie, but of others that are sorrowfull and more confounded than them selues. For if they so doe, of a troth, they shal find that it is very little they suffer, in respecte of that whiche others endure. No more, but that our Lord be your protector, and giue me grace to serue him.

From Sotia the 4. of March. 1518.

A letter vnto the Marques of Velez, wherein hee writeth vnto him certaine newes of the Court.

RIght magnificent & my singular good Lord, Garcy Rodrygues seruant and solicitor vnto your Lordshippe, gaue me a letter of yours made the seuēth of this present in Velez el Rubio, which came with more swiftnes, and also more fresh thā the Samons they bring from Bayon. Your honour wri∣teth vnto me, that I shoulde certifie you what newes, and what worlde runneth: vnto whiche, I dare aunswere your Lordship, that in this Court, none run∣neth, but they goe all bechafed. It is an auncient pestilence in the courtes of Princes: that they call suche men as do not aunswere theim: they loue where they be hated: they fol∣low suche as know them not: they seeke those that flie them: they serue those that pay them not: they hope for that which is not giuen them: and they procure that which they can not obtaine. Suche and so great trauelles as these are, although we performe with our bodie that suffereth, we can not bring to passe with the heart to dissemble them: if the body suffer paynes, and the heart bée compassed with anguish, sooner dothe the body cease to complain, than the hart to sighe. Plutarche saithe of Aeschines the Philosopher, that being as he was alway sick, did neuer complaine of the Splene that did gréeue him: and on the other parte, hée did muche lament of

any sorow that hapned vnto him. As a wise man it séemethe your Honor to bée aduised in kéeping your house, ouerseeing your landes, enioying your goods, vnderstanding how to liue, and howe to discharge your conscience. In suche wise, that of affaires in court, ye delight to heare, & flie to sée them. For of a troth, as all things that doe passe here are fayned, vayne, voide, inconstant, and daungerous: it is a pastime to vnder∣stand them, and a great despite to behold them.

Your Lordship will that I write vnto you, whether I bée present at any time when the Emperesse doth eate, and what things she doth most vse to feed on. Now in winter (as at this present) few Prelates being at Court, I (my Lord) am pre∣sent euery day at dinner and supper, not to sée, but to blesse the table. And I can tell your Lordship, that if I blesse hir, I cursse my self: bicause at the houre that I departe the Court to go to dinner, it is then time (very neare) to goe to bed. There is much lesse trauell in seruing of God, than the kyng.* 1.190 For the king doth not accept seruice, but when it liketh him: but our God, dothe not only accept when hée will, but also when we thinke good. To that you demaund, what and how the Empresse doth eate: I can shew your Lordship, that shée eateth that whiche she eateth cold, and in the cold, alone, with silence, and that all stand beholding. If I be not deceiued, these bée fiue such condicions, that onely one were suffcient to giue me a very euill repast. Sir it is now winter, the which naturally is a time very heauie, cold, melancholike, and all men delite to eate their meate by the fire, warme, accompa∣nied, and talking, and that none stand to behold, for that in time of reioycing, when a man neither eateth or serueth, but standeth with silence musing with him selfe: I dare saye, of such a one, y^t he doth not behold vs, but rather watch vs. To eat in y^e winter any cold meat, is no smal wāt of good diet, for meats that are cold, do hurt the stomacke, & giue no apetite. A man to eat alone is likwise great solitarnesse, & in y^e ende,* 1.191 the gentleman doth not so much delite in the meate he eateth, as in y^e mirth he maketh with y^e company he hath at his table.

For a man to eate without communication and warmthe: I would say, the one proceded of filthinesse, the other of wret∣chednesse. Princes bée not bound to bée subiect to these rules: bycause they are forced to vse great seueritie in their life, and great authoritie at their meat. My Lord, be it as be may: and let hir Maiestie eate, as shall please hir to commaund: for in the end I do more repine at hir pacience, than enuie the meat she eateth. The meates y^t are serued at hir table are many: and those that shee féedeth on, bee very few, (for if hir Phi∣siognomie do not deceiue me,) the Empresse is of a very good condition, and of a weake complexion. The most that shée eateth of, is winter Mellons, poudred Beefe, fed Pigions, minst Bacon, great Geese, and Capons rosted: in suche wise, that shée eateth that others do loth: and shée abhorreth that, for whiche men of the countrey do sighe. They set before hir, Pecocke, Partridge, Capōs, franked Fesant, Manger blāck, Pasties, Tarts, and other variable kind of gluttonies: of all whiche, shée not only pretendeth a contempt to eate, but also, sheweth a lothsomnesse to behold. In such wise, that the contētation doth not cōsist in the much or little that we haue, but only in that, wherunto we be inclined. In all her dinner, shée drinketh but once, and that is not pure wine, but water mixed with wine: in suche wise, that with hir sippets none may satisfie his apetite, and much lesse kill his thirst. Shée is serued after the maner of Portingall, which is to wit: there is placed at the table thrée Dames vppon their knées, the one to carue, the other twaine to serue, in such sort, that the meate is braught by gentlemen, and serued with Ladies. All the other Dames be there present, standing vpright, not in silence, but talking, not alone, but accompanies: so that the thrée Ladies giue the Empresse to eate, and the others yéeld their seruaunts sufficient matter both to speake and thinke. Authorized and pleasant is the maner of Portingall, yet truly, notwithstanding that sometimes the Dames do laugh so loude, and the gallants do speake so high, that they lose their grauitie, and also are yrksome to hir Maiestie.

To that whiche your Lordship doth demaunde, that whe∣ther bée more, the Dames that be sued vnto, or the gallants that do serue them? to this I aunswere: that Esayas did saye, Apprehendent septem malieres virum vnum. Manye sonnes of Knights and Gentlemen, do trauel to sée the Dames, to talke with them, and to serue them: but at the tyme of maryage, none doth marrie with them. In such maner that Iustice iu∣stice, but not at home.

To that whiche you demaund, who gaue the Hat to the Lorde Cardinall: it was Sir Frauncis of Mendoza, Bi∣shop of Samora. And if my diuination deceiueth me not, the Lord Bishop, had rather haue ben vppon his knées to re∣ceiue the same, than sitting to giue it. They presented the Hat in saint Antonies Church: and at the instāt it was giuen him, there fell so great tempest of wind and raine,* 1.192 that if as he was a Christian, hée had bene a Romane, either he would not haue receiued it, or els haue defered it vntill another daye. My Lord it is not to be holden for a iest, that at the very pre∣sent, the wind and the raine was so cruell and vehement, and the water so great, that when the Cardinall went thence made Cardinall, he did more profite him selfe of the Hat he brought, than of the Hat whiche he receiued. The banquet made by the Cardinall, was magnificent in expences and of long continuance, for that we began to eat at one, and made an end at foure. As concerning drinking, there were found so good wines, and also so good drinkers, that Toro, S. Martin,* 1.193 Madrigall, and Arenas, did cause that some did stauke with vnstedy steppes.

As concerning my lodging, your Lordshippe ought not to aske me, if I haue good lodging, but if I haue any lodging. For I saye many times vnto Iohn de Aiala the harbenger, that of God wée obtain that wee desire with praiers: and of him wée can not get a lodging, no not with teares. On a sun∣day in Aduent, preaching in the Chappell vnto hir Maiestie, I sayd, that saint Iohn Baptist went to dwell in the desert, not onely to auoyd sin, but also for that he woulde not haue to

doe with herbingers: and your Lordship do demaund if there be much people at the Court: to my iudgement ther are few men & many women: for that from Auila there came inowe to the Court, and here in Medina was very many, & beside these, Toro, Zamora, Salamanca, & Olmedo, haue sent hither o∣ther aduentures, in suche fort, that if in Palace there be for euery galant seuen dames, there is in Courte for euery cour∣tyer seuen Courtizanes. For that Caesar is in Flanders, y^e win∣ter harde, and the yeare déere also, there is none at the court that willingly would be there, but for necessitie.

Further, your Lordship will that I write vnto you what I thinke of the duke of Veiar, which gathered so great treasure in hys lyfe, that at his death he left foure hundreth thousand Ducates. This is a matter perillous to write, and odious to heare: but in the ende (my iudgemente is) that he wente to séeke care for himselfe, enuie for his neyghboures, spurres for his enimies,* 1.194 a praie for théeues, trauaile for his person, anguishe for his spirite, scruple for his conscience, perill for his soule, lawe for his children, and cursses for his heyres. Great contention and debate goeth betwixt the olde duchesse and the yong Duke, and the Erle of Miranda, and others his kinsfolke and heyres, vpon the inheritaunce of his good, and the succession of his house: in such wise, that there be many that eft procure to inherit his money, and none that takes the charge of his discharge. In the yeare. 1523. I béeing sicke in Burgos,* 1.195 the Duke came to sée mée, and demanded who might properly be called couetous, for y^e he had asked many, & none had answered vnto his minde: and that which I answered at the sodeyn, were these words: The man y^e sitteth in y^e smoke when he may warme himself by a faire fire: that may drinke good wyne, and drinketh euill: that may haue a good garment and goeth hard and ragged: and that will lyue poorely to die riche:* 1.196 he alone and no other wée maye name couetous and wretched. And sayde further: Beléeue mée (my Lord Duke) that I holde hym a more woorthie man that dothe venter to parte his riches, than him that gathereth them together:

bicause, for a man to be riche it is sufficient that he be dili∣gent, but to employ his greate riches, he muste be a Gentle∣man, and noble minded. To that your Lordship doth demaūd my opinion of this towne of Medina, I can saye vnto youre honour (to my iudgement) that it hath neyther grounde nor heauen, for the heauens are always couered with Clowdes, and the grounde with dirt: in suche wise, that if the neigh∣bourhed do call it Medina of the field, we Courtiers doe terme it Medina of the dirt. It hathe a riuer that is called Sapardiell, which is so déepe and daungerous, that géese in sommer go o∣uer drye footed: and as it is a riuer narrow and muddy: it doth prouide vs many éeles: and dothe couer vs with many Clowdes. No more, but that our Lord be your protector, and giue me grace to serue him.

Frō Medina del campo, the xviij. of Iuly in the yeare. 1532.

A letter vnto the Bishop of Tui, new president of Granado, in which is sayd, what is the office of Presidents.

MAgnificent and most reuerend Lorde and regall iudge, I wish the new pro∣uision that his maiestie hath bestowed vpon your honour for the President∣ship of this royal audience of Granado, may be fortunate. I can shewe youre lordship, that in this countrey you are more knowen by your fame, than by your persō. Wherfore (as you know) you haue to trauaile that your life may be conformable vnto your fame, also you haue to consider that if you come to iudge, you shall also: be iudged, not of few, but of many: not of lear∣ning but of custome: not of goods, but of fame: not only in pub∣lique, but also in secret: not of waightie causes, but also of very small matters. One of the greatest trauayls that Presidents haue, and suche as gouerne common wealthes, is, that they doe not onely iudge what they doe, but also what they

thinke: not only the things that they doe in earnest, but also what they commit in iest: in such sort that all things whiche they doe not with seueritie, they iudge it for lightnesse. Plu∣tarke sayth in his politikes, that the Athenians did note in Si∣monides, that he spake loude. The Thebanes accused Parnicu∣lus that he spet much. The Lacedemonians sayd, that Licurgus went stouping The Romains blamed Scipio, that hée slepte snorting. The Vticenses defamed the good Cato, that he did eat with both his chéekes. The enimies of Pompey murmured that he scratched with one finger. The Carthaginiās reproued their Hanniball, for that he went lose with his garments: and the Sillanos charged Iulius Caesar, that he went euill girt. Be∣hold sir, how far the malice of man doth extend, and in what things the ydle (in the common wealth) do occupie themsel∣ues: to witte, that they prayse not, what the noble myn∣ded doe take in hande as valiaunt men, but condemne that whiche they doe of negligence.

With reason they mighte haue praysed Simonides: that o∣uercame the battaile of Marathone: Parniculus that reskued Thebes: Licurgus, that reformed his kingdom: Scipio that sub∣dued Carthage: Cato, that susteined Rome: Pompeius, that aug∣mented the Empire. Hanniball: that was of a mynd immor∣tall: and Iulius Caesar, that thought it little to bée Lord of the world. Wherof we may gather, that the people of a base soile do not speake of their betters and of the mightie: accordyng as reason directeth, but agréeable to that whiche enuie dothe persuade them. Plinie sayeth that the Romanes, onely in the prouince of Vetica, held fiue iurisdictions conuented: whiche is, that of Gades, Hispalis, Emeritans, Astaginensis, Cordubensis: they called Andelozia, the Prouince of Vetica: they named the Chauncellorships, iurisdictions conuented: Gades, was Calis: Hispalis, was Seuill: Cordubensis, Corduua: Meritensis, Merida: Astaginensis, Ecija. Of these fiue Chauncelorships, the first and the greatest was that of Calis: for there was resident the Counsell of the Prouince: and in Merida were the men of warre. I haue broughte all these antiquities vnto youre

Lordships memorie, therby to be aduertised and also to con∣sider: as there were then many presidents appoynted to go∣uerne, ther were many of whom also to murmur: but now you being alone, y^e charge of murmuration wil light vpō you onely. The people of this countrey, are not lyke the people of your countrey: for here they be sharpe, suttle, and greate dissemblers: therefore I aduise and forewarne you, that in hearing them you vse leysure: and in your answers resoluti∣on. As you shall perceiue more hereafter,* 1.197 they will applie more vnderstādings to one word, than ther be gloses vpō the Bible. Conserue thē in their auncient customs: care not to at∣tempt or bring in any new things: for nouelties doe always bring displeasures to those that deale therin: and amongst the people, doth engēder vprores or offences. Stand always vp∣on good aduisement: & walk always vpon consideration: for in the houses of iudges, as many enter to view, as to dispatch matters. The house of Audience is verie moyst, old, narowe, little, displeasant & darke; in such sorte, that it is rather to bée puld down than to dwel in: it wil greue your honor to sée it, & offend you to inhabite the same, but in the ende, you haue to comfort your selfe, that your comming thither is not to dwel, but to amende your estate. My Lorde president your prede∣cessor, entred the same, Bishop of Malorca, & came frō thence, made bishop of Auila. And so may it please the Lord, as yée now come Bishop of Tui, ye shall returne Archbishop of Ce∣uill: for it is nowe an auncient custome, that the presidentes be neuer remoued, vntill their estate be amended. Your Lord∣ship may bold it for most certain, that the office of president is not a little honourable, but ioyntly therwith, verie tedious and burdensome. For that no man hath compassion of his tra∣uell, & all (if he take ease,) blaspheme him. In this president∣ship there is other trauell, which is, your friends haue licence to sée you, and to speake vnto you, but your Lordship hathe not libertie, to vse conference with them: for if you talk with any in particular, and admitte him to youre secrete affaires: foorthwith they will reporte thorowe the audience, and also

will talke in place, that you haue more abilitie to bée com∣maunded, than capacitie to commaund. In hard, graue, and waightie matters, it is not repugnant to wisedome, neither yet to conscience, for a Iudge to confer with his friendes, vp∣pon this condicion, that they be neither affected or furious, for there doth wit most bend, where will hath most force. In such wise, ye ought to be conuersant, confer, talke, and also cōsult with your familiar friends, that all men may thinke of you, that they do coūsell, but not cōmaund you. Such as come to bée suters vnto you, are not to be answered sharply or with rigor, a milde aunswere neuer offendeth: for if they go not with hope to bée despatched, it were not iust they shoulde de∣part complayning of their aunswere. In the wordes, in the curtesies, and in the aunsweres, that you shall vse, deale with euery one according as your Lordship shall perceiue the con∣dicion of his estate to require: for otherwise, some will prayse you for iust, and other some note you of euill nurture. Your Lordship also hath to trauel in the commō wealth, to appeare milde, pitifull, louing, and well wishing: in suche sort, that you rather seeke to be praised for the bountie ye vse, than for the authoritie you haue. Consent not to be furious, angry, cruell, & absolute, for that Iudges be bound to suffer infinite iniuries, and haue no licence to reuenge onely one. When at any time you shal fele occasion to be angrie, troubled, and also iniuried, breake not forth into ire, nor speake any euil word. For if the man that doth iniury vs, be discrete, we take no small reuenge,* 1.198 if to his wordes wée giue no aunswere. The good President, ought to haue rectitude in iudgement, puritie of life, quicknesse in dispatch, pacience in hys affayres, and prudence in his gouernaunce. The whiche fiue vertues, he in them selues so connexed, and in him so necessary, that he shall not be so much profited by the foure that he hathe, as he shall receiue offence by the one that he lacketh. Of my selfe I giue your Lordship to vnderstād, that two yeres since I haue ••in at the law in this audience, against the Church of Tole∣do, for the Abbay of Basa, in whiche, I haue sentence in my

fauour, Per omnia benedictus Deus. My Lord, at this present, we be in degrée of a reuew, and for that the matter dependeth in such estate, and maye not farther procede without the Pre∣sident, Nil iam superest, nisi quod descendas, & ponas manum super eam. In that your Lordship is President and I a suter, this letter suffreth not offers in words, nor permitteth much lesse seruice in workes. Ne imponamus crimen gloriae vestrae. Come your Lordship when you will with gladnes, and enter this audience in an happie houre, that as you know, positus es in ruinam, & in resurrectionem multorium. Of lawiers and officers olde and new, you shall find a sacred College, dignum profectò tali viro. No more, but our Lord bée your protector, and giue me grace to serue him.

From Granado the 12. of May. 1531.

A letter vnto the warden of Alcala, in whiche is expoun∣ded that of the Psalme, whiche saith, Let the liuing descend into hell.

MOst reuerēd and sufficient religious father, Frater Antonius de Gueuara, predicator & Chro∣nista Caesaris: suo precordiali patri guardiano, cum∣plu: sal. plu. mittit. Quamuis hactenus non scripsi paternitati tuae, non tunc minus tibi deditus & affe∣ctus fui. Causam autem meae taciturnitatis, tua sin∣gularis, prudentia per sese optime nouit. Literas tuas accepimus: quae nobis incunditati, & volup••ati: fuerunt. Nec enim est alius quisquam bomimum, cuius scripta libentius quàm tua legamus: est enim in eis, & dicendi ornatus, & debiti salis condimentum. Gaudemus te bene valere: vtinā & semper tibi sit. Et de bis hactenus: In the general chapter I preached, all our order being present, & amōgst other authori∣ties of holy Scripture, I expounded that text of the Psalmist, whiche saieth, descēdant in infernū viuētes. The expositiō wherof your reuerence desireth me to send written as it was prea∣ched, for that as then you heard it not. The preacher that giues in writing what hée hath fayd in the pulpit, bindes him selfe to lose his credit. For in the mouth of a great preacher,

it is more to sée the spirit whiche he giueth to the words he speaketh, than to all that he can write vnto vs. Aeschines the Philosopher, being banished by the Athenians to the Rodes, when vppon a certaine daye hée related the Oration that Demosthenes had made and written against him, hée sayd vnto them: if ye had séene that beast Demosthenes blason his words, and the spirite he had in speaking of them. Amongst the thirtie most famous tyrants that did destroy the common wealth of Athenes, Pifistrato was one, in whose time the Phi∣losopher Damonidas did florish: A man out of doubt of a re∣formed life, and must eloquent in his speech. Of this Philo∣sopher Damonidas, Pifistraro the tyrant, on a daye sayd vnto the Senate of Athens: All maner of men of Athe••s, and of Greece, may fréely come and speak with me in their affaires, and say what appertaineth, except the Philosopher Damoni∣das, which may write vnto me, but not come and talke with me,* 1.199 for he holdeth suche efficacie in his wordes, that he per∣swadeth to what hee will. Kyng Philip (Father to Alexander the great, besieging a certaine citie in Grecia,) came to parlée with those in the Citie, that if they would suffer the Philo∣sopher Theomastes to enter, and to speake with them certaine words, he would depart and rayse his siege: the Philosopher Theomastes had great eloquence in the words he did speake, and very great perswasion in things he would bring to passe, and so it chaunced there,* 1.200 that he entring alone into the Citie, making his Oration in the Senate: they did not only render them selues and open their gates, but also did kisse King Phil∣lips hands for kyng. In such wise, that the Philosopher had more power with his wordes, thā the King with his armies. I say this reuerend Father, for that betwixt the bearing and reading of a sermon there goeth no small difference. For as the Apostle sayeth, the letter killeth, but the spirit quickneth. The authoritie of the Prophets be assured, the sermon go∣eth written as it was preached, but I giue you to vnderstand, it goeth despirited and vnsauery.

But comming to the purpose of that the Prophet saithe:

which is to wete: descendant in infernum viuentes. The doubt is, how it may agrée, that they may go downe to hell,* 1.201 being aliue, and being aliue, how they may bée in hell. Saying, as the Prophet doth saye, in an other Psalme: Non mortui lnudabunt te Domine, nes omnes qui descendant in infernum. If those that goe downe into hell, shall not there praise God, but blaspheme him: to what end doth the prophet commaund vs to descēd? To say that Orestes entred into hell after the Nym∣phes, and that Aeneas descended thither to seke his father: and that the musicion Orpheus did fetch from thence his wife, and the valiant Hercules did breake the gates and bind the Giant Aethna, and the dog Cerberus: These may bée termed poetical fixions, and no truthes: for the vnfortunate that is once ouer∣taken with night in hell, for euermore there remaineth bu∣ried: and he that can once tymely rise vp into Paradise, shall neuer more sée night: for the elect shall there find day without night, and the dampned shall find night without day. Being such as wée ought to be, wée may excuse our going to hell: but after that wée shall be entred thither, it is not in vs to re∣turne againe. For ther is nothing more consonant to reason, thā that he which willingly came to the fault, against his wil do suffer paine. For the prophet to saye, descendant in infernum viuentes, in my iudgement I durst say, that his meaning was to perswade vs, and to warne vs, that wée descend into hell being aliue: that wée descend not after wée be dead. Now let vs descend into hell by contemplation, so that afterwards we descend not to eternall dampnation. Let vs descend thither by feare, that they carry vs not thither by rigour. Let vs des∣cend thither with good will, that they carry vs not by force. Let vs descend by day, that they carry vs not at night. Let vs descend alone, bycause they shall not compell vs to goe with companye. Let vs descend in tyme, that wee maye returne, because that afterwardes they shall not carry vs to leaue vs there. Finally, I do saye, that it is an holy thing to descend into hell, while we are aliue, to the ende wée descend not whē wée bée dead. They dayly descend into hell that thinke vpon

the gréeuous paines and formentes that be giuen there for sinne. For there is no better salue to part vs frō our sinnes, than alway to carry the paine in memorie. For out of doubt, the paine of the dampned dothe withdraw vs from vices. Goe who will on pilgrimage to Mōserate, let them wander to get the Iubile of S. Iames: let him vow himselfe to our Lady of Gadaliape: let him trauaile to S. Lazarus of Ciuill: let him send almes to the holy house: and let him offer his goods to S. An∣tony de Castro. But for my part I will no other station, but that vnto hell. Hée vnderstendeth not a little, nor occupieth himselfe in little, nor goeth not a little, nor takes in hand that is little, neither goeth on pilgrimage a little, that euery daye giueth a hoylt or a turne into hell. Once a yeare did the He∣brewes visit their temple. From fiue yeares to fiue, the Sam∣nites did celebrate their Lustros: from foure to foure yeares the Greekes did feast at their Olimpiades: from seuen yeares to seuen yeares, the Aegyptians did renew the Temple of Iris: from ten to ten yeares, the Romanes did send presentes to the Oracle of Apollo: but he that is a faithful and a true Christian, not from a time to so long a time, but euery houre and euery moment shall goe and come to hell. For of a perpetual paine, perpetual ought to be the memorie therof. In the pilgrimage to the holy House, there is cost, trauell, and also perill: but those that euery day do visite hell by contemplation: neyther haue cost, or passe trauell, neyther runne in any kind of daun∣ger: For it is a pilgrimage that you goe on drie foote, and is visited with standing still. Oh blessed is the Soule that eue∣ry day by the stations of hell giues a turne, in which he doth behold, howe the proud be there brought downe: the enuious chastized: the gluttons pine with hunger: the furious grow milde: and the fleshly consumed. Therfore, let the liuing de∣scend into hell. To go this holy iorney, neyther weaknesse maye excuse vs, eyther pouertie let vs: for it dothe neyther commaunde vs to weary our persons, or that wée employe our goods, but that wée kéepe our money and there to bestow our thoughtes. Therefore let the liuing descend into hell.

It doth not séeme to me, y^e 〈…〉〈…〉ath an vnméet painted storie, y^t hath hell painted in his oratorie: for they are much more that abstain from sin for fear of the pain, than for loue of y^e glorie.

This is that I iudge of that text of the Psalmist, about the whiche (may it please the king of heauen) that euen as my pen hath written, my soule may alwayes ruminate: for as the Apostle sayth, not the hearers, but the doers shall be iu∣stified.

Vale. Iterum{que} vale.

From Madrid the .viij. of Ianua∣rie .1524.

A Letter vnto sir Diego of Caminia, wherein is treated, how enuy raigneth in all men.

MAgnificent and good Christian gentle∣man, you write vnto me, that you are muche offended by many slaunderers that depraue your doings, & vnframe your attemptes: I saye, to maruaile thereat, you haue some occasion, but to be offended, you haue no reason. For in the ende,* 1.202 it is lesse euill that your neybors enuy you, thā that your frends shuld pitie you The most auncient vice of this world is enuie, and that which shall not ende vntill the worlde be fi∣nished, is enuie. Adam, and the serpent: Abell and Cain▪ Iacob and Esau: Ioseph and his brethren: Saul and Dauid: Iob and Sa∣than: Achitophell, and Hewsey: Haman and Mardocheus: did not persecute each other for the goodes they did possesse: but for the enuie they had. Muche more is the enimitie that is sowen vpon enuie: than that whiche is founded vpon iniu∣rie. For the iniured man, dothe many times forget: but the enuious dothe neuer cease to persecute. More cruell and also more long were the warres betwixt the Romans and the Car∣thaginians: than betwixte the Greekes and the Troians: For the Greekes did fight for the iniurie done vnto Helene: and the others, who shoulde obtayne the seygnorie of Europe.

The mortall hatreds that fell betwixt those two great Ro∣main Princes,* 1.203 Iulius Caesar and Pompeius, was not for that the one had iniured or euill dealt with the other: but for that Pompeius had enuie at the great fortune Iulius Caesar had in fyghting, and Caesar had enuie at the great grace Pompeius had in gouernement. Twoo kinde of people were amongst the Romaines: much famous and very glorious, which is to wit: the Dictators, that were very wise in gouernement, vnto whom they erected pictures liuely counterfet: and the Consul∣les, whiche were skilfull in ordering of their batailles. And to these were giuen triumphes. In suche wise, that when Rome was in hir great prosperitie, no seruice was left vnre∣warded, nor crime vnpunished. Ther be few men in whom all vices 〈◊〉〈◊〉 concorre, and muche lesse be those that want all faultes: and if there be any man that is good, he is enuied, and if he be euill, he is enuious. In such wise, that with the vice of enuy, eyther we must persecute, or of some bée persecu∣ted. Wée may saue our selues from the liar, by not speaking with him: From the proud, by not comparing with him: Frō the slothfull, by not troubling him: from the lecherous, in not being conuersant with him: from the glutton, by not eating with him: From the furious, by not chiding with him: from the nigard, by asking him nothing. But from the enuious, it is not sufficient to flie from him, much lesse to flatter him. The vice of enuie is of suche effect, that there is no tower, which he doth not scale: nor wal, that he doth not ouerthowe: nor mine, that the doth not countermine: nor power, that he doth not resist: neither man, against whom he doth not bend. If in one man alone might bée found the beautie of Absolon, the strength of Sampson, the wisedom of Salomon, the swiftnes of Azaell, the riches of Croessus, the liberalitie of Alexander, the valiantnes of Hector, the eloquence of Homer, the fortune of Iulius, the life of Augustus, the Iustice of Traianus, & the zeale of Cicero, let him hold it for certaine, that he shall not be so indued with graces, as he shall be persecuted of the enuious: the wolfe followes the flock, the Rauens the carion, the Bee••

the floure, the Flies, the Honie, men, the riches, and the en∣uious prosperitie: I would say, that naturally as wée haue cōpassion vpon the wretched, so haue we enuie at tthe prospe∣rous. At the venim of Socrates, at the exile of Aeschines,* 1.204 at the hangyng of Cressus, at the destruction of Darius, at the mis∣chaunce of Pyrrhus, at the end of Cyrus, at the infamie of Ca∣teline, at the misfortune of Sophonisa, none euer bare enuie, but pitie. One of the thynges by the whiche I knowe howe far the malice of man doth extend, is: in that to the miserable & ouerthrowne, there is none that will giue his hand to helpe them vp: and to the riche and those that are in fauoure, there wantes not that armeth stumblyng blockes to make them fall. Let them perswade themselues whiche be riche of po∣wer, and priuate or in fauour, that their power and riches is not so great, as the malice and enuie of their neighboures is cruell. Sir I thought good to bring vnto youre memorye these olde things, to the end you shall not refuse to pay youre pounde of waxe, to bée admitted into the brotherhode of en∣uie. I gyue you to vnderstande, if you knowe not, that the brothers of the fraternitie of enuie,* 1.205 obserue it as a principall office, to burie men quicke, and to rayse vp dead men. This brotherhode of enuie is generous, for of them haue bin Chri∣stians and infidels, absent and present, riche and poore, and all those that be dead, and such as be now alyue. They haue in that fraternitie, greate liberties and priuiledges, that is to saye, they repaire not to Chappels, but to houses: they speake not euill of the poore, but of the riche: they doe not helpe, but hinder: they giue not, but they take: they praye not, but they cursse: they abstaine not from mans fleshe, but from beasts: they be not in doubte of their enimies, but of their frends: Finally they haue licence to murmur one of an other, and neuer to common of the truth. Although this bro∣therhood be painfull and tedious, yet is it a signe of great mi∣serie not to be registred in the same: for the man that hath not in this world some enimies, it is a note that of fortune he is muche forgot. Plutarch in his Apophthegmes, speaking of The∣mistocles,

the renoumed Captaine of the Grekes sayeth, that one demaunding why he was so sad? made answere: The so∣row that I haue is, for that in .xxij. yeare since I was borne, I thinke not that I haue haue done any thyng worthie memo∣rie, bicause I sée no man in all Athens beareth me enuy. The first tyrant that was in Sicile, the auncients doe affirme, was Herion, the second Celon, the thirde Dionysius the Syracusan, the fourth Dionysius the yong man, the fifth Taxillo, the sixte Brudanus, the seuenth Hermocrates: of the which seuen, to this day the Scicilians do as much complayne, as the Greekes doe boast themselues of their seuen sages. The laste tyrant Her∣mocrates, approching neare to death is reported to haue said vnto his sonne: Sonne, the last words I say vnto thée, is, bée not enuious in condicion, but do such deedes as therefore thou must be enuied. Surely, these wordes were not wordes of a Tyrant, but of a very wise man. For he commaunded by the same, that he should be vertuous, and forbad him to be malici∣ous. Sir I sayd vnto you in the beginning of this letter, that although you had some occasion, yet had you no iust reason too vexe your selfe, neither to desist in weldoing. For of two euils the lesse euill is, to consent that they murmur of well doing, then to leaue to do well.

Sir from hence there are few things to write of, but that, if you haue there too many euill tongues, héere we haue no want of blasphemies, whiche do neither make exception of God, or pardon the King. Two times I haue moued the Car∣dinall Tortosa in your busines: & if I be not deceyued, as great is his forgetfulnesse, as my diligence. We that be in thys Court, aduise our selues to séeke that whiche we may, when we cannot what we desire. No more, but our Lorde be youre protector, and giue me grace to serue him.

From Valiodolid, the xxvj. of October .1520.

A letter vnto sir Iohn of Moncada, in whiche is declared what thing is Ire, and how good is patience.

EXpectable Gentleman and magnificent Knight, if it shall séeme vnto you that I aunswer youre Letters with slacknesse, impute the fault to Palome your seruant which halteth, and the horse whereon hée rideth is lame, the way long, the winter hard: and I also am always in businesse, although from the same I haue gathered small profit: and as I suspect, if this your seruant haue made any tarriance vppon the way in comming hither, or hath made small hast in retur∣ning thither, it hath procéeded of a certayne combat with loue that he hapned to encounter by the way. Wherein, you may then well thinke how much rather he would accomplishe the loue that he beares in his brest, than with your letters that he carieth in his bosome. If you will credit me, to men inamored you shall neuer commend your busines: For his office is not to be occupied in other affayres, but in writing letters, wat∣ching at corners, playing on gitterns, climing of walles, and vewing of windowes. As concerning that which you write vnto me in youre letter, I shall aunswer you more briefly than your desire, and more largely than I may. Considering how I goe to the Inquisition to reforme, and to the Court too preach: and euery day in Caesars Chronicles to write. My busi∣nes is ouermuch, and my time too little. By the holy God I do sweare, that as many courtiers which be idle in this court, I do more enuie the time they loose, than the money they pos∣sesse. But comming to the purpose,* 1.206 I do sweare by the law of a friend, I haue bene as muche gréeued for your greate mischance and misfortune, as if it had bin myne owne cause. For as Chilo the Philosopher said: the mischances of a friend we must not onely remedy them, but also bewayle them. A∣gesisaus the Greek being demanded for what cause he did more lament the heauinesse of his frends, than the death of his chil∣dren,

made answere: I do not bewayle the want of my wife, the losse of my goodes, or the death of my children: for al these are partes of my selfe: but I bewayle the death of my frend, which is an other my selfe. Sir, I saye thus muche, since I may not be there present to lamente with you, neither doe I here finde my selfe of power sufficient to remedie your case, I will write some letter to comforte you. For sometimes the pen vseth no lesse pitie with the friende, than the launce doth crueltie with the enimie, to persuade that you shoulde not féele, that which reason would you shoulde so muche féele: it shuld be iust occasion for me to be worthily noted with want of due consideration, and you accused to be insensible. That which I dare speak in this matter is, that you conceyue ther∣of as a man, and dissemble the same as aduised and discrete. The iniuries that touche our honour, done by suche of whom we may not be reuenged, the most sounde counsell is, to let it fal, since with due vengeance it may not be quited. If in these present gréeues you wil take the order of a Christian, & leaue the way of a worldly knight, you shall fixe your eyes (not on him that doth persecute you) but in God that doth permit the same: before whō you shal find your self so faultie, that that is little whiche you suffer, in respect of that ye deserue to suffer. Moreouer,* 1.207 ye ought to thinke, that tribulations whiche God permitteth, be not to lose vs, but to proue vs. For in the books of God they set downe no man as quited, but he that is apte for trauell: and amongst those of the worlde, they giue wages to none but vnto him that is giuen to wantonnesse.

Sir you write vnto me that I certifie you what thing is anger, and the definition therof. To sée if you may forget the dispite of him that hath done you so cruel an outrage to know what thing is Ire, and to cut of the furious curse of his rage. Sir, it semes to me no euill counsell (the very troth being knowen) many times it is more securitie for him that is in∣iuried to dissemble the iniurie, than to reuenge it.

Aristides saieth, that ire is no other thing, but an infla∣ming of the bloud: and an alteration of the hart. Possidonius

sayth, that ire is no other thing, but a short foolishnes. Cicero saith, that which the Latins do cal ire, the Grekes do name de∣sire of vengeance. Aeschines sayth, that ire was caused of the fume of the gall, and of the heate of the heart.* 1.208 Macrobius saith there is muche difference betwixte ire and testinesse: bicause ire groweth of an occasion, and testinesse of euyll condition. The diuine Plato sayeth, that the faulte is not in anger, but in hym that giues occasion. Laertius sayth, when the chastise∣ment excéedes the fault, then is it vengeance, and not zeale: But when the fault doth excéede the chastisemente, it is zeale and no vengeance. Plutarche saith, that the priuiledges of ire, are not to beléeue our friends, to be rash in attempts, to haue the chéekes inflamed, to vse quicknesse with y^e handes, to haue an vnbridled toung, at euery word to vse ouerthwartnesse, to be fumish for small causes, and to admitte no reason. Solon Solonio being demāded whom we cal properly irous, answe∣red, he that little estéemeth to lose his friendes, and maketh no account to recouer enimies. After so manie and so graue Philosophers, that which I dare say is, that the vice of ire is lightly written, easy to persuade, pleasaunt to preach, ready to counsell, and very difficile to refrayne. Of any vice wée may speake euill, but of the vice of anger we may say much, and very much euil. For ire doth not only transform vs into fooles, but also maketh vs of al men to be abhorred. To tem∣per ire is sufficientely vertuous: but vtterly to expell it, is a thing more thā sure. For all things that are euill of themsel∣ues, and of condition hurtfull, are more easily resisted than throwne away. In the beginnings, many thinges be in oure owne handes, to admit or to send them away: but after they haue taken power ouer vs (if by chaunce reason rise against them) they say they will not depart, since they be in possessi∣on. Ire hath so euil a condition, that of one only tyme that we yéelde him our will, he afterwards maketh our will vnto all the hée liketh.

In the Magistrates that gouerne the common wealthe,* 1.209 we condemne not the good or euill correction they vse: but the

greate furie they shewe in the same. For if they be bounde to chastise the offences, they haue not licence to shew themsel∣ues passioned. Those that offend, it is a thing very iust y^t they remaine not vnpunished: but this punishment must not be suche, that it appeare that they take some great vengeance: for be a man neuer so brute, without comparison he dothe more féele the hate that they shewe, than the chastisements which they giue. The whip, the staffe, the sworde, & the punishment that is giuen to the fleshe, although it be gréeuous, yet it soon passeth: but the iniurious worde the heart neuer forgetteth. For a man to be in power and authoritie, and to refraine his anger, it is not an humaine vertue, but heroicall and diuine. For in this world, there is not a more high or excellent kind of triumph, than a man to triumph ouer his owne heart. So∣crates the Philosopher,* 1.210 holding his dagger in his hād to strike one of his seruantes (the same alreadie lifted vp) sayde: re∣mēbring my self that I am a philosopher, & that at this pre∣sent I am angrie, I wil not giue thée thy deserued chastise∣mente. O example for certayne worthie to bée noted, and muche more to be imbraced and followed. Of whiche wée may gather, that duryng the tyme that ire hathe vs in posses∣sion, we ought not to dare to speake, and muche lesse anye man to chastise.

Licurgus the Philosopher, commaunded those that gouer∣ned his common wealth:* 1.211 that all euill and dishonest things they shoulde condemne and chastise, but yet by no means, ab∣horre the malefactor, saying that there could not be amongst the people, a more gréeuous plague than a iudge that woulde make hymselfe dronke with furie. There be few that follow this counsell, and verie manie that do the contrarie: for now a days there is none that is angred with the offence, but with the offender. For my part (and also for those that shall) it is a great trauayle to trafike or deale with furious, impacient, and men of euill suffering: For that they are importable to serue, and of conuersation very perillous. Since I haue said what thing is ire, and the hurtes that are doone by ire: nowe

let vs say, what remedies may be giuen against ire. For my meaning is not to teache you to be angrye, but to bée paci∣ente. I dare auouche, that it is a great remedie agaynst ire, when a man is angred to refrayne the tongue, and to deferre vengeaunce vntill an other tyme. For that many tymes a man doth say and promise béeing in choler, thinges the whi∣che afterwardes he woulde not shoulde haue once passed hys thoughtes. With the yrefull we must not be importunate to entreate a pardon, no not from the foote to the hand, but only to desire that vengeance be deferred. For during furie, there is no accompte to bée made that the iniuried will pardon, ex∣cepte he bée quieted with the man that is furious and in cho∣ler: for any one to séeke to bring him to agreement, or to iu∣stice, eyther it is lacke of witte, or diligence more than née∣deth. For the ire that is muche inflamed, and the heart that is kindled with furye, neyther doth admit consolation, or is ouercome with reason. I doe aduise and readuise the man that presumes to be wise, that he take not in hand to contend with him that is inflamed with yre. For if he faile to follow counsell herein, when he scapeth best, he shal eyther haue his honour reuiled, or his head broken. Although a man be a frēd vnto him that is offended, he doth him more profite to let him alone, than to speake vnto him, or help him. For at y^e instant he hath more néede of a bit to bridle him, than a spur to quic∣ken hym. With the man that is in a rage, it is more néede to vse skill than to deale by force. For although he were an∣gred at the sodain, the pacifying of him must be at leisure. Plutarch in the bookes of his cōmon wealth doth counsell the Emperoure Traiane that hée bée paciente in his trauayles, mylde in his affayres, and of muche suffering amongest the furious: affirming and swearing, that many mo thyngs bée cured by tyme, than framed and agréed by reason. Betwixt noble personages wée haue séene greate quarelles, whiche passions and furies mighte not be stayed by entreataunce of friends, threatning of enemies, giftes of money, neyther yet with wearinesse of trauayles: And after that tyme hath had

his course (and calling them to remembrance) haue agréed amongst themselues, without the request of any friende to talke therin. Finally, I say, that when a friende doth sée the choler of his friende inflamed, if hée will doe him good, lette hym caste on water with temperaunce to coole hym, and not wood wyth furie to burne him. I (sir Iohn) haue en∣larged this Letter muche more than I thoughte, and also more than I desyred, but that youre excéedyng payne and sorrowes haue made my penne discourteous, to suffer, vse silence, and dissemble, and let the tyme passe, and somewhat forget the matter. For if I bée not deceyued, you shall sée, the fire that they made at your gates, burne in their entray∣les. Salomon the Hebrew sayde, that the wise man hathe his tongue in his hearte: and he that is a foole and furious, hath his heart in his tongue. Agis the Greeke sayd, that the foolish man is grieued with that whiche he doth suffer, and boastes himselfe of that whiche he hath spoken. And the wyse is grée∣ued with that whiche he hath spoken, and boasteth himselfe of that he doth suffer. Nowe or neuer it is néedfull, that you profyte your selfe of your science and wisedome: For it is a spice of no small foolishnesse, to knowe to cure others, and not to remedie your selfe. I am not forgetful, that when my sister the Lady Francis died in Mexia hir towre, you did write mée so many and so good thinges, that they were sufficient to lyghten me of the payne, althoughe not altogether of the sorrowe. And sir, I saye it for this cause, that it shall bée greately to youre owne purpose, to take some grapes of the same vine.

As concerning the reste, I haue no more to write vnto you, but that the credite whiche youre seruaunte broughte with youre letter, in that hée shoulde say vnto mée, the selfe same credite, my letter doth giue him, in that whiche he shal answere.

From Toledo the .vj. of Aprill. 1523.

A letter vnto Sir Ierome Vique, in whiche is treated, how great libertie is much hurtfull.

RIght magnificent and Caesars Em∣bassadour, I being in Granado the xx. of Iuly, receiued a letter from your worship. And considering it came so farre as it is from Valentia to Granado, he hath made good spéed vppon the waye, since he departed from thence the Saterday and came hither the Monday. Comming as you come from so straunge a coūtrey as is Rome, and hauing passed so daungerous a Sea as is the gulfe of Narbona, I will not demaund if you came safe: But giue God thankes for that you are come aliue. I wishe (if it please the Lord) that you come from Italy so sound in bodie and so perfect in soule, as when you parted from Spaine: for in new countreyes al∣waies there is learned new fashions.

The good Licurgus did commaund the Lacedemonians, that neyther out of the kingdome they should goe to traffike, or suffer straungers to enter their countrey, saying: That if kingdomes grow rich by trading with straūgers, they turne poore of their proper vertues. Speaking the trueth and also with libertie, I haue séene fewe come from Italie; that came not absolute and also dissolute: and this, not because the land is not consecrat with saints, but for that it is now inhabited with sinners. The properties of the belles, are to call men to come to seruice, & neuer enter into the church them selues: and in my iudgement, such is the condition of Italie, where there be great Sanctuaries that prouoke vnto prayer, and the people thereof hath no deuotion. Many doe say that all the weale of Italie consisteth in libertie. I say that all their hurt riseth by want of subiection: because, for men to doe all that they will, they come to doe that, whiche they ought not. If Trogus Pompeius do not deceiue vs, the Romanes giuing li∣bertie

to the Bactrians for that they had succoured the Consull Rufus in the Spartian warres,* 1.212 they refused it, saying, that, that day they should be made frée, they should commit where∣by deseruedly to be slaues. Speaking the trueth, there be no common wealthes more lost than those where the people be most at libertie? For the condition of libertie is, to be of many desired and of fewe well employed: where there is no subiec∣tion, there is no King: wher there is no King, there is no law: where there is no lawe, there is no Iustice: where is no Iu∣stice, there is no peace: where there is no peace, there is con∣tinuall warre: and where there is warre, it is impossible that the common wealthe maye long endure. Neuer might the mighty Rome bée brought vnder by the Greeks, the Carthagi∣nians, the French, the Hunnes, the Epirotes, the Sabines, the Sam∣nites, and Hetrurians: but finally it came to ruine and was lost, by the pryde they had in commaunding, and the much libertie in sinning. The diuine Plato did say many times to the Athe∣nians when hee sawe them goe so at large: take heed you Athe∣nians to your selues, & loose not by your viciousnes, that which you haue wonne by your valiauntnes. For I giue you to vn∣derstand, that libertie asketh no lesse wisdom to conserue it, than valiauntnes to obtain it. Experiēce teacheth daylie, how in a frée cōmon wealth, they do more hurtes, they speak more blasphemies, they cōmit more offences, they rayse more scan∣dales, more good be defamed, and more theft attempted, onely of two yongmen at libertie, than of two hundred that be sub∣iect. If curiously we do behold, of a troth we find that they doe not drowne in welles, whip, banishe, cut the throtes, hang, cut of eares, nor put in prison, but lost men that spends their time in vanities, and employ their libertie in vices.

In the life of man ther is not the like riches to libertie, but iointly therewith, there is nothing more perillous than shée is, if they know not to measure hir and vse hir according to reason: libertie ought to bée wonne, procured, bought, succou∣red and defended:* 1.213 but iointly with this, I do warne, giue counsell, and also aduise him that shall haue hir, that hée vse

hir (not when the appetite shall require) but when reason shall giue licence. For otherwise, thinking that he had liber∣tie for all his life, he shal not enioye hier a month. The libertie of Phalaris did trouble the Greekes: that of Roboam lost the Hebrewes: that of Cateline did offend the Romanes: that of Iugurtha defamed the Carthaginians: that of Dionysius decayd the Scicilians: and in the end, the common wealths had an end of their trauailes, and they of their liues and tyrānies. Many men there be that leaue to doe euill, bycause they will not: but much more are they that cease, bycause they cannot. Many there be that doe abstaine for conscience, and many more for shame: many do refraine for loue, but many more for feare: many liue with a desire to be good, & many more for feare to be dishonored. But yet for fear, or for loue, or for cōscience, or else for shame: alwaies we must stay our selues by the truth, & cut of the sway of libertie. For if we giue the bridle to sen∣sualitie, & doe not shut the doore to libertie, we shal haue what to think vpon by daye, and also wherefore to wéepe by night.

Sir, I thought good to bring this to your memorie, to the ende, that since you come from Rome, you be not ouer care∣full to boast your selfe of the customes thereof. For you shall vnderstand (if ye know not) that the fashions of Italie are more pleasaunt to be recounted, than sure to be followed. If you call to remembraūce the generositie of Rome, the libertie of the neighbours, the varietie of the people, the galantnes of the women, the plēty of victualles, the goodnes of the wines, the mirth and ioye at their feastes, & the magnificēcy of their Pallaces: you haue therewith to remember, y^t there where goods be spent, the cōscience is charged, and also many times y^t soule is lost. The Romish people in Rome many of them be good, but the straunge people y^t are stayed in Italie, for y^e more part are euill, for they be but very few that goe thyther with deuotion, but they be infinite that be lost in wandring after their fleshly lustes. Rome is not now in y^e power of the Chri∣stians, as it was in the time of the heathen, for then being the mother of all vertues, she is now turned to y^e schole of al vices.

Leauing this aparte, what shall we say of a poore priest that goeth to Rome through Spaine, Fraunce, and Lumbardy, and before hée can get sentence of his benefice, he cōmittes a thou∣sand vices, spendes his money, and doth a thousand wicked déedes? I say for myne own part, that I was at Rome, I sawe Rome, I visited Rome, and did behold Rome: in which I sawe many things that gaue deuotion, & other things that brought me to admiration. Oh how much, and how much is betwixt the customes of Italie, and the law of a pure christian?

* 1.2141 For in the one they saye, that ye maye doe all that you will, and in the other, nothing but what you ought to do.

2 In the one, that you be a comfort to all men, and in the other, that you shall denie to procure to be saued.

3 In the one, that you haue much conscience, and in the other, that you make no accompt of shame.

4 In the one, that you trauell to be a good Christian, and in the other, that you care to be very rich.

5 In the one, that you liue cōformable vnto vertue, in the other, that you care not but to enioye libertie.

6 In the one, that for any thing you shal not speake a lye, in y^e other, y^t in case of interest, you make no accōpte of truth.

7 In the one, that you liue onely with your own, and in the other, that also you take profit of other mennes.

8 In the one, that alwaies you remember to dye, & in the other, that for nothing you leaue to lead an ill life.

9 In the one, that alwaies you occupie your self in know∣ledge, & in the other, y^t you giue your self to be of much power.

10 In the one, that you impart of that you haue with the poore and friends, and in the other, that alwaies you keepe for deare yeares.

11 In the one, that you vse much silence, and in the other, that you presume to be very eloquent.

12 In the one, that you beléeue onely in Christ, and in the other, that you procure to haue money. If you my Lord Em∣bassador, with these xy. conditions wilbe a Romane, much good may it do you. For vpon the day of accoumpt, you would

rather haue bin a laborer in Spaine, than an Embassadour at Rome. No more, but that our Lord be your protector, and to you and to me he giue good endings.

From Granado, in the yeare 1525. the daye and moneth aforesaid.

A letter vnto the said Sir Ierome Vique, in whiche is declared an Epitaph of Rome.

RIght magnificent Embassadour to Caesar: by your letter that I haue receiued, I was certi∣fied y^t to you was deliuered an other of mine,* 1.215 wherein I haue vsed no curious care: For vnder your good condicion, there is no place for any thing to be dispraysed, much lesse to be condemned. Mosen Rubine aduertised me, that by sléeping in an ayry place, you haue bin very reumatike, which I certain∣ly béeleue hath procéeded of the great heate of the moneth of August, but by my aduise you shall not vse it, neither others so giue counsell: for that it is lesse euill in sommer to sweate than to cough.

You write, and also send vnto me certaine Gothicke let∣ters, that you haue foūd written in an aunciēt place in Rome, whiche you can neither reade, or they in Italy can declare.

Sir I haue very well séene, considered, and also reconsidered them: and to him that is not acquainted with this Romish cyphringes they séeme illegible, and not intelligible, and that to vnderstand and read them well, it were necessary that the men that bée a liue shoulde deuine, or those that wrote them shoulde rise from death to life. But to expound these letters, no dead man shall bée raysed, either am I a soothsayer or di∣uine. I haue tyred my wittes, and called to remembrance, I haue ouerturned my Bookes, and also haue ouerloked mer∣uailous and many histories, to see and to know who it was that did write them, and wherefore they were written: and in the ende, as there is nothing that one man doth, that ano∣ther can not do, or that one man knoweth, and an other

knoweth not, your good luck wold, and my great diligence, that I met with that whiche you desired, and I sought for. And for that it shall not séeme that I speake without Booke, in few wordes I will recite the history.

In the times of Octauius Augustus the Emperour, there was in Rome a Romane Knight named Titus Annius (verely a man) of great experience in causes of warre, and right wise in the gouernment of the common wealthe. There was in Rome an office that was called Tribunus Scelerum, & this had the charge of all criminall causes, whiche is to wit, to hang, to whip, to banish, to cut throates, and to drowne in wels: in such maner, that the Censor did iudge the Ciuill, and the Tri∣bune the Criminall. This office amongst the Romanes was of great preheminence, and of no lesse confidence, they neuer incommended the same but to a man of noble bloud, auncient in yeares, learned in the lawes, in life honest, and in iustice very moderate: for that all these condicions did concurre in Titus Annius, hée was by the Emperour Augustus in the office of Tribune named, by the Senate confirmed, and of the peo∣ple allowed. Titus Annius liued and was resident in this of∣fice xxv. yeres, in all whiche time hée neuer spake to man any iniurious word, either did any iniustice. In remuneration of his trauell,* 1.216 and in reward of his bountie, they gaue him for priuilege that hée shoulde bée buried within the walles of Rome, and that hée should bury by him selfe some money, and that in that sepulcher there shoulde not any other bée buried. For a man to bée buried in Rome, was amongst the Romanes a great preheminence, the one was bycause the priests did consecrate the sepulcher, and the other for that malefactors to flie vnto sepulchers, were more worth than the temples. But now these letters woulde saye, that Titus Annius (Iudge of the faultie) by him in his sacred sepulcher did hide certaine money, whiche is to wit, ten foote off, and that in the same sepulcher the Senate doth commaund, that none of his heyres be buried. This Titus Annius when hée died left his wife aliue that was named Cornelia, whiche in the sepulcher of hir hus∣band

did set this Epitaphe. The aucthors of this history are Vulpicius, Valerius, Trebellius. And bycause the declaration of the history shall appeare more cleare, let vs set the exposition ouer euery letter, and these be the letters.

Titus. Annius. Tribunus. Scelerum. Sacro.* 1.217

T. A. T. Sce. S.

Suo. Sepulcro. Pecuniam. Condidit. Non.

S. S. P. Con. N.

Longe. Pedes. Decem. Hoc. Monumentum.

Lon. P. X. H. M.

Heres. Non. Sequitur. Iure. Senatus.

H. N. S. I. S.

Cornelia. Dulcissima. Eius. Coniux. Posuit.

Cor. D. E. Con. P.

Behold here my Lord Embassador your letters expoun∣ded, and not dreamed, and in my iudgement this that we haue said they would say, and if you be not satisfied with this inter∣pretation, let the dead expound them that did write them, or those bée whiche aline that gaue them. No more but that our Lord be your protector, and giue vs grace that we ende in his seruice.

From Toledo the third of April, 1526.

A letter vnto the Bishop of Badaios, in whiche there is declared the auncient lawes of Badaios.

RIght magnificent and Caesars Precor, I recea∣ued a letter from your Lordshippe, with the whiche I did much reioyce my selfe before I did read it, and after that I had reade it, I re∣mained no lesse offended: not for that whiche you had written vnto me, but for that you commaunded me, and also demaunded of me. (If Plutarch do not deceaue vs,) into the chamber of Dionisius the Siracusan none did enter: in the librarye of Lucullus no man sate

down: Marcus Aurelius with the key of his study, (no not with his Faustine) did vse any trust: and of a troth they had great reason: bycause there be things of such qualitie, that not only they ought not to be dealt withall, neither yet to be looked vp∣pon. Aeschines the Philosopher said, that for very great frend∣ship that might be betwixt one and other, he ought not to shew him all thinges in his house,* 1.218 nor to communicate with him all that he thinkes in his hart: saying that a man is no more himselfe, than that he holdeth secret in himselfe. It is long since I commended vnto my memorye, that sentence of the diuine Plato, wher it is said: that vnto whom we discouer our secret, wée giue our libertie. I say this vnto your Lordship, for that if I had not consented that your Secretarie shoulde enter my studie, neither had hée bin a babler, or your Lord∣ship importunate. Your honor saith that he said, he had séene in my library a banke of olde bookes, whereof some were Gothike, Latin, Greeke, Calde, and Arabic, and that he forgat not to steale one, which made much for your purpose. In that he said vnto you, he said very troth: and in that he did, he did me much displeasure, for that amongst the learned, iestes do extend euen to the speaking of wordes: but not to the stea∣ling of bookes.

As I my Lord haue no other goodes to lay vp, nor other pastimes wherewith to recreat me, but bookes that I haue procured, and also sought in diuers kingdomes: beeleue me one thing, whiche is, that to take my bookes, is as much as to pull out my eyes. Of my naturall condiciou, I was euer an enemie to new opinions, and a great frend of olde bookes: for if Salomon say, Quòd in antiquis est sapientia, for my part I do not beleue, that the wisedonie lyeth in horeheades, but in olde bookes. The good king sir Alonso that toke Naples, did vse to say that all was but trash, except drie wood to burn, an olde horse to ride, olde wine to drinke, olde frendes to bée conuer∣sant, and olde bookes to reade in. Olde bookes haue great ad∣uantage of the newe, whiche is to wit, that they speake the trueth, they haue grauitie, and do shew authoritie: of whiche

it followeth, that we maye reade them without scruple, and alledge them without shame.

The case is this, that in the yeare 1523. I passing thorough the Towne of Safra, came to a Booke binders shop, whiche was tearing out leaues of an olde parchement booke to couer another new booke, and knowing that the booke was better to reade in, than to make couerings, I gaue him for the same viij. Rialles of plate, & also would haue giuen him viij. Duca∣tes. Now Sir, you shal vnderstand, that the booke was of the lawes of Badaios, that king Allonso the xj. made, a Prince that was very valiant, and not a little wise. This is the booke that your Secretarie did steale from me, whiche he carried vnto you, and it hath pleased me muche that you haue séene it, and haue not vnderstood it: in suche wise, that if you render it, it is not because ye haue desire to make restitution, but for that you will I make exposition thereof.

The rest of this letter is the exposition of certaine olde lawes, wherein there ariseth this maruell, that the Castilian speeche (but in a few hundreth yeares) is so altered, and the prices of their things so chaunged, that not only the common people, but also a Bishop of the same countrie; craued an in∣terpretor of the sayd lawes.

A letter vnto Syr Iohn Palamos, wherein is declared whiche was Saians horse, and the Gold of Tholose.

RIght noble Knight, I haue receyued your letter and your complaint therein, where∣vnto answering, I say, that I haue bin much busied in certaine affaires whiche Caesar hath commaunded, (during the expedition where∣of) I haue had no time to pray my houres, muche lesse to aunswere your letters missiue. It came vnto Caesars vnderstanding, that the Duke of Sogorbe, and the Monkes of the vale of Paradise did beare each other ill will, and did vse euill neighbourhod: for whiche cause hée com∣maunded,

that I shoulde visite them, and trauaile to bring them agréed: whiche I did of very good will, although not without great difficultie. In fourtie dayes that I was there, I neither wente to walke, either did occupie my selfe in prea∣ching, eyther giue my selfe to studie: but all my exercise was to sée priuiledges, to visit boundes, to heare quarelles, and to appease iniuries. And for that these affaires were of impor∣tance, and betwixt personages of so great authoritie: I pas∣sed immeasurable trauel before I could make them frendes, and remoue their griefes. I haue said all this, to the ende you shoulde holde me the rather excused, for not aunswering so soone vnto your letter: and for not accomplishing that whiche I promised you in the grades of Valentia: but the case was this. The Prince of Borbon passing by Valentia, wée saw in a certaine cloth of his tapistrie a horse, whiche had at his féete Knightes throwen downe and dead. And in the brest of the horse was a writing in whiche was sayde, Equus Seianus: as one would saye, this is Saians horse. Marueylouslye did they of the Citie beholde this cloth, and no man vnderstode what the blason of that horse might signifie: some saide it was the historie of Iosue, some of Iudas Machabeus, some of Hector, some of Alexander, othersome of Cirrudias. After that maner euery man did speake as hée did gesse, but no man as hée did know for troth. There was in that troupe a gentlemā which said, that that was king Don Martin his horse which won Va∣lentia of the Mores, & that they were fyue Kings of the Mores that hée killed in one daye: and his horse was named Seian, for that he was of Sogorbe.* 1.219 And bycause there was no man that did knowe the secret of that history but I (that held my peace) he did so sweare and forsweare, and also affirme it so true, as if he had recompted a storie of the Bible. Cōsidering he was a Knight, in bloud. Generouse, of goods rich, & of yea∣res auncient, (although in his wordes very lying) I would not there declare presently the misterye of that horse, bycause others should not haue wherewith to deride him, or the poore gentleman wherfore to bée displeased. Mimus Publianus, the

Philosopher said, that with old mē that be vaine bablers and ianglers, we ought to haue more respect to their hore heares that they possesse, than to the wordes they speake.

The history of Saians horse is written by very graue au∣thors, whiche is to wit: Cayus Bassianus, Iulius Modestus, and Aulus Gelius in the third Booke that hée made de noctibus At∣ticis. And I doe aledge these authors, for that no man shall thinke it is a compound fable, but that of a troth it did passe, as here wée shall recount the historie, resiting it from the foundation.

The great Hercules the Thebane, after that hée had slaine Diomedes in Thracia, brought with him to Greece, a certaine race of horses y^t Diomedes had bred, which of their own proper nature were in colour fayre, of stature large, in condicions gentle, and in battell couragious. Of the race of these there was bred an horse in the prouince of Argose, whose proportiō was, a high crest, hear to the groūd, slit nostrelles, sure houed, well membred, broade buttocks, a long tayle, great eyes, a soft skinne, colour baye, and aboue all, of courage maruel∣lous fierce. This horse being yet but a colt, they came from Asia, from Palestina, from Thebes, from Pentapolis, and from all Greece, by the meane of his fame: some to sée him, others to buy him, and other some to praise him and set him a sale to the people: for there was no person that desired not to sée him, and much more to haue him. And in this world, as there is not a thing so perfit, in whiche there is not some imperfe∣ction, the destiny of this horse was so accursed: for all they that bred him, bought him, and did ride him, died miserable and infamed. And for that it shall not séeme that wée speake at large, and doe recounte an historie very suspicious: brief∣ly we will touche who were they that bought this horse and did possesse him, and also the great misfortunes that came vnto them by the same.

In the yeare CCCCxiij. from the foundation of Rome, Quintus Cincinatus the Dictator being dead, the Romanes did sende a Romane Consull into Grecia that was named Cneius

Saianus, a man in bloud holden famous, and for gouerne∣ment in the common wealth very wise. When the Consull Cneius Saianus went into Greece, that horse was a Colt of thirtie monethes, the which he cheapened, bought, and brake, and was the first that did ryde him. And for that this Cneius Saianus being in Rome, did follow the partialitie of Octauius Augustus: a yeare after hée went into Greece, and not six moneths after hée had bought that horse, Marcus Antonius commaunded his head to be cut off, and also his body to be vn∣buried. This maye it appeare, that Cneius Saianus was the first that bought and brake this horse, and also did experiment by death his vn happy destenie. They named him then, (and from thence forwarde,) Saianus horse. Cneius Saianus being beheadded, there succéeded him in the office of Consulship, a certayne Romaine named Dolabella: whiche immediatly being Consull, did buy that horse for an hundreth thousand Sester∣cios: and surely if hée had knowen the euill that hée bought vnto his house (I think) hée would haue giuen an other hundreth thousand not to haue bought him. Within a yeare after the Consull Dolabella had bought that horse, there arose in the Citie of Epirus (were hée was resident) a popular se∣dition, in whiche the sorowfull Dolabella was slaine, and also drawen throughe the streates. The Consull Dolabella being dead, another Consull was desirous to buy that horse, whose name was Caius Cassius, a manne whome Plutarch writeth to haue borne great office in Rome, and to haue done great déedes in Africa. Not two yeares after, the Cōsul Cassius had bought that vnhappy horse, they gaue him suche herbes at his dinner, that within an howre, hée, his wife and chil∣dren lost their liues, not hauing time to speake one word. The Consull Caius Cassius being dead, the famous Romane Marcus Antonius desired to buy that horse: and hée was so pleased with the forme and shape thereof (when they brought him) that hée gaue as great reward to the bringer, as hée paid vnto him that solde the same: not twoo monethes after that Marcus Antonius had bought this horse, a batell was fought

at Sea betwixt him and his enemy Octauius Augustus: In whiche bataill his onely beloued Cleopatra would be present, to hir greate infamie, and greater losse of him selfe. What vnfortunate ende Marcus Antonius had, and what an hastye death his Cleopatra did suffer, is notorious to all men that haue reade Plutarch. Marcus Antonius being dead, yet still that vnfortunate horse remained aliue, whiche came to the handes of a Knight of Asia, who was named Nigidius, and for that the horse (as now) was somewhat olde, at that present he bought him good cheape, although afterwards he cost him very deare: for within one yeare after he bought him, at the passage of the Riuer Marathon, the horse stumbled and fell in suche wise, that both master and horse were drowned, and were neuer more seene.

These are the fiue Knightes that are throwen downe at the foote of Sayans horse, to wit, Saian, Dolabella, Cassius,* 1.220 Mar∣cus Antonius, and Nigidius. The whiche history, although it bée delectable to reade, on the other part it is lamentable to heare. Afterwardes, whē in Asia they fell in reckoning and to remēber the euill fortune that the horse had alway with him, there arose amongest them a common prouerbe, to saye vnto the man that was vnhappy or vnfortunate, That he had ridden vpon Sayans horse.

The like chaunce happened when Scipio did robbe the Temples of Tolosa in France, in that of all those which caried away any golde and riches to their houses, none did escape, but within one yeare died, and all his familie and house de∣stroyed. To this daye it is a custome in France, to saye vnto the man that is vnfortunate, That he hath Tolouze golde in his house.

Laertius saith, that in Athenes there was an howse where all were borne fooles: and there was another house where they were all borne doltish: and as by discourse of time, the Senators fell into the reckoning therof, they commāded that those houses shoud not bée inhabited, but pulled downe. Hero∣dianus sayeth, that in the Marcian field in Rome, there was a

Gentlemans house,* 1.221 in whiche all the owners died sodainly: And as the neighbourhod made relatiō thereof vnto the Em∣perour Aurelianus, he did not onely commaund it to bée thre∣wen downe, but also that all the tymber shoulde be burned. Solon Solonius forbiddeth in his Lawes to the Aegyptians, that nothing of the dead should be sold, but that all should bee par∣ted amongst his heyres, saying: If the dead had any vnfor∣tunate or vnluckie thing, it should remayne in his family and kinred, and should not passe vnto the common wealth. Incon∣tinent vpon the death of the infamouse Romane Princes Ca∣ligula and Nero, the Senate prouided that all the riches and houshold stuffe should be burned and buried in welles, fearing that in their tyrānicall goods, ther might be hid some euill for∣tune, by the couetousnesse whereof, Rome might be lost, and the common wealth impoysoned.

Sir, I thought good to write all these examples and straūge chaunces, not that you shoulde béeleue in Augureis, but to the ende you should think that there be in this world some things so infortunate as they séeme to draw or bring with them the selfe same or other mishaps. No more but that our Lord bée your protector. &c.

A letter vnto the Duke of Alba, Sir Frederique of Toledo, in the whiche is entreated of infirmities, and the profites of the same.

REnoumed and most magnificēt Lorde, at the time that Palome your seruaunt came to visit me on your behalf, and gaue me your letters, I was in a furious feuer, in suche wise, that I could neither read your letter, or speake a word vnto the bearer thereof. After that y^e feuer begā to cease, & that I had reade your letter, I vnderstood the desire you had of my health, and the grief you séemed to haue of my infirmitie. Beleue me Sir, and be out of doubt, that at that present I had more abilitie to drink, than to read, for I would

haue giuen all my Librarie for one only ewer of water. Your Lordship writeth vnto me, that you also haue béen ill, & that you thinke all your sicknesse to be well employed, as well for that you féele your selfe recouered, as also that you finde your selfe affected with a holy purpose to departe from sin, and to abstaine from excesse in eating.

My Lord, I am sory with all my heart that you haue ben sicke, and it pleaseth me very much that you stand vppon so good a purpose, although it be very true, that I wold more re∣ioyce to sée you performe, than to heare you promise: for hell is full of good desires, and heauen is full of good workes. But be it as be may, to my iudgemēt there is not any thing wherin we may soner discerne a man to be wise or foolish, than to sée in what maner he behaueth him selfe in aduersitie, & how he reapeth profite by sicknesse.* 1.222 There is no such foolishnes as to employe our health to euill purpose, either is there any such wisedome, as to drawe fruite or commoditie out of sickenesse. Cum infirmor iuncfortior sum: the Apostle said, that whē he was sicke, then was he most strong: & this he said,* 1.223 bycause the sicke man doth neither swel by pride, or fornication doth make him cōbat, or auarice doth ouerthrow, or enuie doth molest, or ire doth alter, or gluttony doth bring vnder, or slouthfulnesse doth make negligent, either ouerwatch him selfe with ambition.

My Lord Duke, pleaseth it the Lord that wée were suche being whole, as we promise to be when we be sicke. All the care of the euill Christian when he is sicke, is, to desire to bée whole, onely to liue and enioye more of this world: but the desire of the good Christian whē he is diseased, is to be whole, not so much to liue as to reform his life. In the time of sicke∣nesse, there is none that doth remember himselfe of affection or passion, of friendes or enemies, of riches or pouertie, of ho∣nour or dishonour, of solace or trauell, of laying vp treasure or growing poore, cōmaunding or obeying: but to be deliuered of one grief of the dead, would giue all that he had gotten all the daies of his life. In sicknes ther is no true pleasure, & in health all trauel is tollerable: what wants he that lackes not health?

What is it worthe that he possesseth that enioyeth not his health? What doth it profite to haue a very good bed if he can∣not sléepe? What benefite hath he that hath old wine of fra∣grant fauour, if the phisitian do commaund that he drinke sod water? What auayleth to haue good meat, whē only the fight thereof moueth belkes, and makes the stomacke wamble? What commoditie ariseth vnto him that hath much money, if the more part hée spend vpon Phisitians and Poticaries? Health is so great a thing, that to kéepe it and to conserue it, wée ought not only to watche but ouerwatche: The whiche surely séemes not so, since we neuer haue regard thereof, vntil we haue lost it.

Plutarch, Plini, Nigidius, Aristicus, Dioscorus, Plotinus, Nece∣phalus, & with them many others, haue written great Bookes and treatises, how infirmities are to be cured, and how health is to be conserued. And (so God saue me) if they affirmed a troth in some things, in many other things they did but gesse, and other things not a few they dreamed. Béeleue me my Lord Duke, and bée out of doubt, for my part I doe fully bée∣leue, and also I haue experimented, that to cure diseases and to conserue healths, there is no better thing, than to auoyd anger,* 1.224 and to eate of few meates. How great weale should it be for the body, and also for the souls, if we might passe our life without eating, and without anger? For meates do cor∣rupt the humors, and anger doth cont••••ne the bones. If men did not eat and would not be angrie, there shoulde be no cause to be sicke, and muche lesse of whom to complaine. For the whips that doe most scourge our miserable life, are ordinary excesse, and profound sadnesse. Experience teacheth vs euery daye, that the men that bée doltishe and ignorant, for the more part are alwayes strong, lustie, and in good healthe, and this is the reason: for that suche as they are, neither doe wea∣ry them selues to obtaine honour, eyther doe féele what is shame, reproch, or dispite: the contrary of all this doth hap∣pen to men that be wise, discrete, quicke witted, and of sharpe deuise: euerye one of which be not only grieued of that which

is spoken vnto them, but also they growe sorowfull, for that they imagine what others do thinke. Ther be men that be so sharpe, and so ouersharpe or refined, that it séemeth little vn∣to them to interprete wordes, but also they holde it for an of∣fice to diuine thoughts: and their repaiment is, that by them selues always they goe discomforted, and with others euill lyked. I durst affirme, and in a maner sweare, that to bréed a sickenesse, and to daunger a mannes lyfe, there is no poyson of so daungerous infection, as is a profounde and déepe sor∣row: for y^e miserable hart when he is sad, doth reioyce in we∣ping, and takes ease in sighing. Let euery man speake what he thinketh good, for amōgst such as be discrete (and no fooles) without comparison they be more that grow sicke by anger they receyue, than of the meates they féede on. All day long wée sée no other thing, but that those men whiche be merrie and glad, be always fat, whole and well coloured, and those that be sadde and melancholike alwayes go heauie, sorowful, swollen, and of an euill colour. In these writings I confesse vnto you (my Lorde Duke, that the Ague that now I haue, was not of any meate that I had eaten, but of a certayne an∣ger I had taken.

Your Lordship doth write that by sléeping vpon the groūd you haue taken a pestilente reume, I verily thynke, the greafe heate of this moneth of Auguste, hath bin the cause therof, whiche in myne opinion you ought not to vse, or coun∣sell any other therevnto: For it is lesse euill to sweate with heate, than to cough with colde. To the rest which I vnder∣stand by your letter, in desiring I should write some newes, it is sufficient for this tyme, that of this our Courte there bée few things to be trusted in paper,* 1.225 & much to be said in a mās eare. The thinges that appertaine vnto Princes and lordes of high estate, wée haue permission to conceyue them, and no licence to speake them: In the Courte and out of Courte, I haue séene many aduaunced by secrecie, and many shamed by want of silence. Your Lordship pardon for this tyme my pen, and when wée shall méete together, my toung shall sup∣plie

this present want. No more but that our Lord be youre protectour.

From Borgos the .15. of October, Anno .1523.

A letter vnto sir Peter of Acunia Erle of Buendia, wherin is declared a prophesie of a certaine Sibill.

RIght magnificent & Christian knight, doth your honor thinke in your iudge∣ment, that the answere I shall sende you, shall be as large as the letter you haue written vnto me? of a trouth it may not be so: for I am nowe come to that age, that nothing lyketh me, that I take in hand, either can I performe any thing that I would do. The many yeares, the cōtinual studies, & the great trauels y^t I haue pas∣sed, haue made in me such impression, y^t now the eyes be tired with reading, the pulses with writing, the memorie with re∣taining, and also the iudgemente with noting and compoun∣ding. God knowes I would not boast my self therof, but in y^e end I can not but cōfesse it, which is, euery day I féele my self much more in age, and much lesse in abilitie: the more I wold dissemble, the more I would enable my self, the more I wold grow yong, the more tenderly I would deale with my selfe, I can not leaue to acknowledge, but that my sighte decreaseth, my memorie fayleth, my bodie goeth wearied, & the strength decayeth, and also my heares grow hoare. Oh my soule, what be all these things, but certaine cruell summoners, that cite my life to inhabite the sorowfull sepulture?

Epaminondas the Greke sayde, that vntill the age of thirtie yeares they ought to say vnto men, you are welcome, or you come in a good houre: bicause at that tyme they séeme to bée cōming into y^e world: from thirtie vntill fiftie, they ought to say, God keepe you, or stande in a good houre, bycause at that time they begin to haue some iudgement of the world: from fiftie yeares forwarde they ought to say vnto them, God speed you, or goe in a good hour, for from thence they go taking their

their leaue of the world. In these repartments of Epaminon∣das, it appertaineth not vnto your honour and mée, that wée come in a good houre, nor that we stande in a good houre: for we are now come to be of the number that go in a good houre, I beséech the redéemer of the worlde, that when we shal passe out of this worlde, we may depart in a good houre, take our leaue in a good houre, and that we goe in a good houre. For if it be muche requisite for vs to liue well, muche more it stan∣deth vs vpon to finish well. I thought good to write vnto your Lordship all this, to the end, that if I shal answere you some∣what short, ye haue me excused, and to hold me blamelesse.

But comming to the purpose, I say that I muche delighte to reade your letters, & on the other parte, I am ouercharged with your importunities: for alwayes you come to me with vnknowne demaunds, and right strange questions: you now sende mée a moste auncient Epitaph,* 1.226 that a certaine friende of yours hath brought from Rome, whiche hath waged with your honour a certain wager, that in all Spayn there shoulde not be a man which should haue skil to reade it, much lesse to vnderstand it: the letters of the Epitaph be these. R.R.R.T. S.D.D.R.R.R.F.F.F.F. Neyther did that Romane speake ac∣cording to knowledge, eyther shall he winne his wager. For that notwithstanding they be moste obscure, and euery let∣ter importe one worde, I will sende them so declared and so aptly distinguished, that he shall remayn confounded, and you win the wager. The case is thus.

Romulus raigning in Rome, and Ezechias in Iudea, there was a woman borne in Tarento, named Delphica, which was famous in hir life, and singular in the art of diuining. Amon∣gest the Hebrues, such women were named Prophetesses, and amongste the Gentils, called Sibilles. Thys Sibill Delphica prophesied the destruction of Carthage, the prosperitie of Rome, the ruine of Capua, the glorie of Graecia, and the great pestilence of Italie: And for that the fame of this Sibill was spread thoroughoute the worlde: Kyng Romulus sente hir great presentes, made hir greate promises, and wrote to hir

many letters, to remoue hir out of hir countreye, to lyue at Rome. Neyther for any intreatance they vsed with hir, or for any giftes they could sende hir, this Sibill at any tyme would leaue hir countrey, or come to dwell at Rome. The whiche Romulus perceiuing, determined in his owne person to goe sée hir, and with hir in certayne causes to communicate.

The secret that Romulus desired, was to vnderstand what Fortune was reserued for him, and what destenie the Citie of Rome should haue (whiche at that time king Romulus be∣gan to buylde.) Answere better nor worse mighte the kyng receyue of that Sibille Delphica, but that she gaue him foure∣téene letters written in certayne barkes of trées, (for that in those so auncient tymes they had not as then founde oute the manner to write in parchement, and muche lesse in pa∣per) the secrete and misterie of which letters neither coulde King Romulus vnderstande, eyther woulde the woman de∣clare the same. But so muche she did certifie him, that there was one to be borne, which should vnderstand and interprete those letters. King Romulus being returned vnto his Citie of Rome, commaunded those letters to be set in one of his Tem∣ples, vnder greate and safe kéeping, vntill the tyme shoulde come, that the Goddes shoulde reueale them, or some other bée borne that shoulde vnderstande them. Foure hundreth thirtie seuen yeares those letters stoode hydden that no man coulde reade them, muche lesse vnderstand them, vntil there came to Rome an other Sibill, named Erithra, the whiche so clearely did declare, interprete, and expound them, as if she hir selfe and none other had composed them. The letters are but fouretéene, the whiche declared in Englishe, sayeth:

Romulus reygning, Rome triumphing, Sibill Delphica sayde, the kingdome of Rome shall perish by Sword, Fier, Hunger, and Colde. Let vs put the selfe same caracters of the letters, and the exposition in Latin vppon euery one of them, in the forme that the Sibill expounded them, whyche was as follo∣weth.

R.Romulo R. Regnante, R. Roma T. Triumphante, S. Sibilla

D. Delphica D. Dixit, R. Regnum R. Romae R. Ruet

F. Ferro, F. Flamma,F. Fame, F. Frigore.

Sir, behold héere your letters expounded, your prophesies deuined, your Romane confounded, and also youre wager got∣ten. And the reward shalbe, that (I ouer watching my selfe to séeke this history) your honour shall beare away the prayse of the aunswer. If he will more thorowly know of this history, let him come to séeke and reade Liuius, Vulpitius, Trebellius,* 1.227 and Pogius, whiche haue written of the antiquities of the Ro∣mans, & the sayings of the Sibilles. No more, but that our Lord be your protector, and that he giue vs both his grace. Amen. Amen.

From Madrid the .xiij. of March. 1535.

A letter vnto Sir Ynigo Marrique, in which is re counted what hapned in Rome betwixt a slaue and a Lion: an history very pleasant.

MAgnificent and discrete Gentleman, your ser∣uaunt Trusillo gaue me a letter of yours at the breaking vp of the counsell of the Inquisition: and to speake the troth, neither did he aduer∣tise me from whome hée came, neither did I demaund him any question. To my iudgemēt the one did well, and the other did not erre: for he came wea∣ried with trauell, and I came from the Counsel angred. The philosopher Mimus sayd, qui cū lasso fameli••o loquitur, rixam quae∣rit: as if he should haue sayd: to talke with a man that is hun∣grie, and to haue busines with him that is wearie, be great oc∣casions to moue debate. For if at the time the hungrie would eate, or when the wearied would repose himselfe, and woulde séeke occasion of busines, he would giue the busines to Barra∣bas,

and the Author to Sathan. Experience doth teach vs, that at the present when a man is refreshed, forthwith he begins to talke: at the instant that a man doth eate or drinke, forth∣with he beginneth to debate. And therfore we say, that then, (and not afore) it is an apt time to dispatch affaires. For other wise, it should be rather to importune, thā to dispatch. Sir, I say thus much for y^t you shal sée and also vnderstand, that it is verie conueniente for him that goeth in affaires, not onely to flée importunitie, but also that hée knowe to séeke oportu∣nitie.

Syr, leauing this aparte, I giue you to vnderstande, that your importunities, & my muche businesse, haue bin together (by the eares:) the one procuring that I should condescende to your desire: the other resisting, that I could not do what you required: in such wise, that the cause why I haue not answe∣red, is I can not, & also I will not: why I cannot answere, dyd proceed at that time, for y^t we toke order in the inquisition for the busines of witches in Nauerne: and that I woulde not, dyd rise, that you sent to demaund of me a thing so straunge, with the which (if you did take pleasure in reding) I receiued much offence, and also tired my selfe in séeking.

The declaratiō of which historie, that you sent to demand, I did well remember I had séene it, but I coulde not call to mynde in what booke I had red it, and therof we do not mar∣uel, that do not deale with humain and diuine scriptures. For the diuine Plato saith, we should leaue to be men, and become Gods, if the memorie were able to retaine so muche as y^e eyes were able to reade and see. Although on the one parte I had great businesse, and on the other part was somwhat offended, yet always I left my affaires, and began to turne ouer my booke, to sée if I could finde out that historie, and remember y^e counterfait. And I thought good to take this trauell in hand, not only to accomplish your demaunde, but also to proue my abilitie.* 1.228 Sir, you write vnto mée, that in the Wardrobe of the great captain you sawe a riche cloth, which (they say) the Venetians had giuen him for a present, wherin was figured a

man leading a Lyon, and a Lyon that went led and laden af∣ter a man. Also you saye, that in the breast of the Lyon were written these wordes: Hic Leo est bospes huius hominis. In lyke maner was written in the breast of the man other wordes, which were: Hic homo est Medicus huius Leonis. The one and the other letters thus much did signifie: This Lion is the hoste of this man: and This man is Phisition or Chirurgian to this Lyon. Sir, you may well thinke somewhat at the straungenesse of the historie, since the maner of the paintyng séemeth so mon∣strous: therefore I maruell not thoughe you desire to vnder∣stande the same: notwithstanding, to finde it, was not a lit∣tle painefull to me. It shall happen to this my letter, whiche I consent verie seldome vnto an other: that is, that it shal be somewhat long, & yet not tedious: for the historie is so plea∣sant to hear, y^t the reader shalbe gréeued, for that it is no lōger.

Comming to the purpose, The good Titus Emperoure of Rome, (whiche was sonne to Vespasian, and brother to that e∣uill Emperour Domitianus) commyng from the warres of Germanie, determined to celebrate in Rome the daye of his natiuitie in Campania. Amongste the Romaine Princes, thrée feastes of all other were moste celebrated, to witte, the daye wherein they were borne, the daye wherein their Fathers dyed, and the daye wherein they were created Emperours. The day of this Titus byrth béeing come, he or∣dained to make great feasts to the Senate, and to distribute gifts among the people. For in great disportes and feasts, al∣wayes the Romaine Princes didde feaste the myghtye, and gaue rewarde to the poore. A thyng worthye to bée noted, and also vnto memorye to bée commended, that in the great feastes and triumphes of Ianus, of Mars, of Mercurie, of Iu∣piter, of Venus, and of Berecinthia, they dyd not boaste, ney∣ther estéeme suche feastes to be solemne, great, or duly solem∣nised, by the costes that were spent, either by the shewes and triumphs that therein were represented: but by the number of rewards and liberall giftes that there were giuen.* 1.229 The Emperour Titus commaunded to be brought for that feaste

many Lions, Beares, great Harts, Onchas, Vnicorns, Grif∣fins, Bulles, Bores, Wolues, Camelles, Elephants, and e∣ther many maruelous cruell beasts, which for the more part be bred in the deserts of Aegypt, and in the edge of the moun∣tayne Caucasus. Many dayes before, the Emperour had com∣maunded that they should reserue all théeues, and robbers by highwayes, murderers, periured persons, traytors, quarel∣lers, and rebelles: to the end that on that day they shoulde en∣ter into listes, to chase and fight with the beasts, in such wise, that the chastisements of malefactors shoulde be perfourmed by the same beasts. The order that he vsed herein was, that the wretched men should be put within the greate Colledge, and those cruell beasts should come foorth to fight against thē, all the people standing to behold, and none to help. And if it hapned the beasts to teare the man in péeces, there he payde his det: but if the man kild the beast, by iustice they could not put him to death. Amongst other beasts that they brought vn∣to that feast, there was a Lion whiche they had taken in the deserts of Aegypt, which was mightie of body, of great age, of aspect terrible, in fighting cruell, and in his yelles and cries very horrible. This most cruell Lion walking in the chase all imbrued (for at that time he had slayne and torne to péeces xv. men) they determined to cast vnto him a fugitiue slaue, to the intent he should kill and eate him, and therevpon to quiet his rauenous furie. A maruellous thing it was to heare, and fearefull to sée,* 1.230 that at the very instant they cast the slaue in the chase to the Lion, he did not onely refuse to deuoure him, but also hasted not to touche him, but rather went vnto him and lickt his handes, fauned with his tayle, helde downe hys head, and couched downe vpon the ground, shewing signes of old acquaintāce, and that he was in his det and beholding vn∣to him. The slaue, séeing the fawnings and the curtesies that the Lion vsed with him, cast himselfe downe vpon the groūd, and créeping to the Lion, and the Lion comming to the slaue, they began one to imbrace the other, and to faune as mē that had bin of old acquaintāce, that had not séene in many yéeres.

To sée a thing so monstrous and strange at the sodain, (which the eyes of man had neuer séene, neither in old Bookes had e∣uer bin read) the good Emperour Titus was amased, and all the Romane people grewe astonied: and did not presently i∣magine that the man and the Lion had bin of olde acquain∣tance, and there knew ech other: but that the slaue shoulde be a nigromantike, and had inchaunted the Lion. And after the Lion and the slaue had played together, renued their olde ac∣quaintance, and the people of Rome beholding a greate space, the Emperour Titus commaunded the slaue to be cald before him, the which comming to accomplish his commaundemēt, the cruell Lion came after him, so quiet and so gentle, as if it had bin a house lamb brought vp by hand. The Emperour Titus said vnto him these words: tell me man what art thou, of whence art thou, what is thy name,* 1.231 to whome didst thou belong, what hast thou done, what offence hast thou commit∣ted, wherefore wast thou brought hither and cast vntoo the beastes? may it happen that thou hast bred this most cruell Lion, or hast thou known him by chaunce in times past? wast thou present when he was taken, or hast thou deliuered him from any mortall perill? (perchaunce thou art a Nigroman∣tike, and hast enchaunted him.) I commaund thée that thou say vnto vs the truth, what hath passed, and deliuer vs of thys dout, for I sweare vnto thée by the immortall gods, this mat∣ter is so mōstrous, & so strange, that it séemeth rather that we dreame it, than behold it. With a good courage, & with a hygh cleare voyce, the slaue made aunswer to the Emperour Titus as followeth, the Lion being layd at his foote, and all the peo∣ple in admiration.

Andronico recompteth by discourse, all his life.

IT may please thée to vnderstande most victorious Caesar, that I am of the countrey of Slauonia, of a cer∣tayne place that is called Mantuca, the which when they dyd rise and rebell against the seruice of Rome,

we were there al taken & condemned to seruitude & bondage. My name is Andronico, and my father was named Androni∣cus,* 1.232 and also my grandfather. This linage of Andronicos wer in our Countrey so noble and generous, as Quintus Fabius, and Marcus Marcellus be nowe in Rome. But what shall I wretche do vnto fortune, which do sée the sonnes of seruants there, to be knightes, and my selfe that was there a Gentle∣man, in Rome become a slaue? It is twentie six yeares since I was taken in my Countrey, and so long agoe since I was brought vnto this Citie, and also other twētie six since I was sold in the field of Mars and bought of a sawyer, which when he perceyued that my armes were better giuen to handle a launce, than to pull at a sawe, he sold me to the Consull Da∣cus, father to the Censor Rufus, that is now aliue. This Con∣sull Dacus was sent by thy father Vespasian, to a certain pro∣uince in Affrica, whiche is called Numidia, as Proconsull to minister Iustice, and as Captayne of the horsemen to vn∣derstande in causes of warre, for that in verie trouth in the warres he had great experience, and in gouernment muche wisedom. Also (great Caesar) it may please thée to vnderstād, that my maister (the Consull Dacus) ioyntely with the expe∣rience and wisedom that he had, was on the other side proude in commaundemente, and couetous in gathering together. And these two things be brought to passe,* 1.233 that he was yll ser∣ued in his house, and abhorred in the common wealth: and his principall entente was to gather money to make hym selfe riche, so that although he had many offices, and muche busi∣nesse, he had no more in his house, but my selfe and an o∣ther to do all the same: in so muche, I gathered and caste a∣broade, did grynde, fift, and bake the breade: And besides all this, I dressed the meate, I washed the clothes, I swepte the house, I dressed the cattel, and also made beddes. What wilt thou that I shal say more, (O most victorious Caesar?) but that his couetousnesse was so great, and his pitie so little, that he gaue me neither coate, shoes, or shirt: and moreouer, beside al this, euery nighte he made mée to weaue two baskettes of

Palmes, which he made me to sell for eight Sextertios,* 1.234 towar∣des his dispences. And that night that I had not performed the same, he gaue me nether to eate, either left me vnwhipt. But in the end, séeing my master so continually to chide me, so oft to whippe me, to kéepe me so naked, so to ouer worke me, and so cruelly to deale with me, I will confesse the troth vnto thée (oh inuincible Caesar) whiche is, that séeing my selfe in so desperat a state, and in a life so miserable, I desired hym oftentimes that it mighte please him to sell me, or else to giue order to kill me. Eleuen yéeres continually I passed this wretched life with him, without receyuing at his handes any rewarde, or at his mouth any milde word. And farther séeing in the Proconsul (my master) that euery day his anger increased, and vnto me there was no trauell diminished, and ioyntly with this, féeling age cōming vpon me, and my head to be hore, mine eyes blinde, my strength weake, my health wanting, and my hart desperat: I determined with my selfs to runne away vnto the cruell deserts of Aegipt, to the intent that some rauenous beast mighte eate me, or that by pure hunger I might die. And for that my master did not eate but what I drest him, or drinke but what I broughte him, wyth great suertie I might haue killed him and reuenged my selfe: but that hauing more respect to the noblenesse of bloud from whence I was descended,* 1.235 than to the seruitude that I suffe∣red, I thought it better to put my life in perill, than to do trea∣son to my noblenesse. In the end, my master (the proconsull) going to visite a certaine Countrey named Tamatha which is in the confines of Aegipt and Affrica, when on a night he had supped and I saw him a bed, I departed without knowing a∣ny high way: but that I tooke care that the nighte might be very darke, and did beholde (the daye before) whiche moun∣tayne was most sharpe, where I myght be most hidden and least sought for. I caried with me but a payre of sandalles to weare, a canuas shirt to put on, a bottell of water to drinke, and a little bunch of grapes to eate, with whiche prouision I might haue bin sustained for sixe dayes: whiche being past,

eyther I must die, or be eaten with beastes, or returne to my maister, or else put my selfe in safetie. Hauing past thrée days and thrée nights, forsaking all high wayes, thicked my self in the great desert. And being vtterly tired with great & extreme beate, and no lesse in feare of them that shoulde séeke mée, I conueyed my selfe into a great Caue, somwhat darke, the en∣trance narrow, but more large within.

Not sixe houres after I had conueyed my selfe into that denne, I saw at the entring therof a Lyon moste terrible to beholde, whose feete and mouth was all bloudie, and my iud∣gemente was that he had eaten some beaste, or torne some man in pieces: (whiche was lyke inough) for that notwith∣standing the countrey is inhabitable, and the heate intollera∣ble, yet there resorte into those desertes some that go to hunt the Lyon, and other vnfortunate (as I) that flée from their Maysters, whiche choose for lesse euyll to be eaten wyth Li∣ons,* 1.236 than all their liues to be slaues. Perceyuing that mon∣strous Lion sitting at the entrance of the caue, and séeing in my self that I had no place to escape or flée vnto, nor strength to resiste: the teares presently fell from myne eyes. Remem∣bring my selfe, with feare I became senslesse, & fell dismayd to the ground, holding for certain, that now the hour was come, in which (by the rage of that beast) my miserable lyfe should take an end. Oh what difference there is to blason death with the tongue, and to sée it with the sight of the eyes. I say this (puissant Caesar,) for that in séeing him at the doore that should eate mée, and that the sepulcher of my fleshe shoulde be those bestiall entrayles, I would haue chosen an other lyfe much worse at that presente to haue escaped with lyfe. But after the Lyon had a little viewed and also rested at the entrance of the caue, he came forward halting on one of his féete, grée∣uously groning, and comming vnto me (that was fallen to the grounde) laide his lame foote vpon my hands, after the maner of a wise man that discouereth his hurte to an other, and cra∣ueth remedye for the same.* 1.237 My tongue can not sufficient∣ly say vnto thée (Oh magnificent Caesar) the strength I reco∣uered,

and the ioy I cōceiued to sée that most cruel beast stand so myld, come sicke, goe so lame, and to aske to be cured. And you may wel beleue it, for at that houre I was in such estate, that if it were in the power of that Lion to take awaye my lyfe, I had not at that instant any sense to féele my death.* 1.238 The griefe of this poore lion was, that from the head to the point he had thrust a thorne into his foote, and his foote was full of of matter, maruellously swollen, and the worst of all was, that the wounde was so blacke and so festred, that hardly the thorne might be then séene. When I had with the poynte of a knyfe opened the wounde, presently issued the matter, and foorthwith I pulled out the thorne, incontinente I washed it with vrine, and then annoynted it with salue, and spéedyly I bound it vp with a piece of my shirt: in such maner, that if I did not as I ought to do, at the least, I did that I thought best to be doone. Noble Caesar, thou wouldest haue delighted to haue séene how at the tyme I brake vp the swelling, pulled out the thorn, thrust out the matter, and bound vp the wound, he stretched his féet, clitched his fist, turned his head, gnashed with his téeth, and secretly gaue certaine sighes, in such sort, that if he felt y^e grief as a beast, yet he dissembled it as a man. After I had drest him and bound it vp, al that euening & night the Lyon remained stil and lay close by me, and like one that had reason, he would lament one while, and rest an other: in such wyse we passed all the night, he in bewayling, and I in pitying. Now when day appeared, and light came into the caue, I began againe to squise out the matter, and to anoint it with a little salue which I had, both little and verie drie, bi∣cause there had two dayes passed wherein I had not eaten, and as muche more that I had not drunk.* 1.239 Two houres after that I had drest him, and that the sunne was risen, the poore Lion departed by little & little out of his caue vnto the desert, to séeke something where vpon we might féed, and wherwith we might be sustayned. And when I thought not thereof, be∣holde, he brings me ouerthwart in his mouth a péece of a beast of what nature or kinde of beast it was, I sweare (O migh∣tie

Caesar, I am not able to say vnto thée: for at that tyme I was not able to vnderstād. Hunger oppressing me, hauing too much flesh, & wāting fire, & hauing no mean to boile nor rest, I gat me out of y^e caue, laying my flesh in y^e sun vpon a fayre stone, where with the most feruent sunne in those desertes which doth not warme, but burne, althoughe not sufficient to rost: I dyd eate it so dryed and parched, not withstanding with no small appetite. Foure whole daies and nightes I was with the Lion in his caue, in whiche I tooke charge to cure him, and hée, to maintain and féede me. Now six dayes being past, that I had ended my bottell of water, he went out of the caue very early before the sunne was vp, and did take of those herbs most ful of dew, which I tasted with my mouth, more to refreshe, than to kill the thirst which I had. After I sawe my host the Lions foote somewhat amended, and also that I likewise grew weary, lothsome, and full of that beastiall life: at the instant that he went out of the caue to hunt, presently I came foorth to hyde me, constrayned thereto by necessitie, and not of will.* 1.240 The nighte béeing come, when the Lion re∣turned to his caue, and founde me absent (of a trouth I swear vnto thée O magnificēt Caesar, that) I heard him from thence where I was hidden, giue so many and so sorowfull brayes, that they filled my eyes full of teares. The poore Lion didde shewe that he was gréeued with solitarinesse, whiche he felte by the wante of my companie, and the lacke he had of me to performe his cure: of my part (being wearyed to trauell in those cruell desertes, and to eate such rawe fleshe) I determi∣ned to do that which I should not so much as once haue thou∣ght: which was, to séek a place inhabited, where I might find people to speake and be conuersant withall, to the end that I might kill hunger with bread, & the intollerable thirste with water. But as my maister had taken all the passages, and aboue all, that yet my heauie and sorowfull destinies were not ended, I was scarsly come vnto the first place, but that I fell into their hands, that had sought and followed me. Being taken, bound, whipt, & drawne, they brought me to my cruell

maister: and I may say to thée (O good Caesar) that I wold ra∣ther haue remained dead at the Lions féete, than aliue to ap∣peare before my mayster. Incontinent after I was brought into his presence, he began to take aduice of them that brou∣ght me, if I should be drawne to péeces, haue my throate cut, be hanged, flayne quick, or else be drowned. In suche wyse, that thou mayest well conceyue (O noble Caesar) in what case my hearte stoode, and how afflicted in spirite I was, when in my owne hearing they intreated, not how they shuld chastise me, but what cruell death they myght giue me. After they had spoken many cruell wordes, & had threatned me with di∣uers cruell deathes, he commaunded that I should be thrown into the dungeon amongst the condemned men, for that with them I should be broughte hyther to Rome, to bée meate for beastes: and surely he did not erre in thinkyng to be thus moste cruelly reuenged of mée: for there is not so cruell a kinde of death, as to tarie & thinke euerie houre to die. This lion that you sée here lying by me, is the same that I cured of the thorne, and he that kept me so manie dayes in his caue: and since the immortall Gods haue willed y^t he and I, & I and he, should come to be acquainted in the place where they haue brought vs to be slain, vpon my knées I beséech thée (most vi∣ctorious Caesar,* 1.241 that since my fault hath condemned me to the beasts, that it may please thy great clemencie to quite vs, and to make vs frée. This was that which Andronicus sayde vnto the Emperor Titus, and that he related before all the Romane people. If the myldnesse of the Lion had put them in greate maruel, the words & the great trauailes of Andronicus moued them to great compassion, to heare the immeasurable paines the poore man had passed,* 1.242 & to sée how many times death had swallowed him: with loude voyces al the people began to be∣séech & pray the Emperour Titus, that it might please him to prouide and commaund, that Andronicus might not be slaine, neyther cast vnto the Lion: for the best part of the feast had bin to sée the mildnesse of the Liō, & to heare the life of Andro∣nicus. The Emperor Titus condescended with a very good wil,

to that whiche the people required, and Andronicus desyred. And thus it was, that from thence forward, he and the Lyon wente together throughout all the stréetes and Tauernes of Rome, making merie, and al the people reioycing with them: After the maner of a little asse, Andronicus with a small lyne did leade the Lion girded with a payre of bougets, wherin he caryed certaine prouision of bread, and other things that they gaue him at their houses and tauernes. And somtime he con∣sented that boyes shoulde ride vpon the Lion for money: and to the straungers that came to Rome from farre countreyes, and had not heard the storie therof, demandyng what that so straunge and monstrous sighte shoulde signifye, aunswere was made, that that man was the Lyons surgion, and that the Lyon was that mannes host. This historie is recounted by Aulus Gellius the Latin,* 1.243 and Apius the Gréeke much more at large. Behold sir, your paynting here declared, behold here your straunge storie founde out, beholde here your desire ac∣complished, and beholde mée here that remayne tyred: that for any thing woulde not againe take suche paine, neyther put my selfe in suche care. No more but that our Lord be your protector, and giue vs good ending. Amen.

From To∣ledo the .25. of August. 1529.

A letter vnto Sir Peter of Acuna, Earle of Buedia, wherin is touched howe Lordes should gouerne their esta∣tes. A notable letter for suche as come newly to their inheritance.

REnoumed Lord and Christian knight Gonsalus of Vrena, your seruant & my friend, gaue me a letter frō your lord∣ship, by y^e which you maintain against me a certain greate cōplaynt, saying that it is a yere past since I haue not séene you, and six monethes wherein I haue not written vnto you. Syr, I am so busyed and of my naturall condition so solitarie,

that it is painfull vnto me to visite, and no lesse tedious to be visited: not bycause they doe visit me, but for that they let and hinder me. The diuine Plato said, quòd amici sunt fures temporis, whiche is to saye, that friends are stealers of tyme, wherein he sayed troth. For there be friends so importune in visiting, and so tedious in communication, that the time is more euill employed that is lost with them, than the goods that theeues steale from vs.

We Courtiers be much combred with tediousnes whiche in the court our friends doe vse with vs, that sit downe by great leasure, and doe settle them selues in a chayre, not to aske any case of conscience, or to talke any thing of holy scrip∣ture, but to murmur, saying, that the King doth not firme,* 1.244 the Counsell doth not dispatch, the Paymasters doe delay, the priuat doe commaund, the Bishops bée not resident, the Se∣cretaries rob, the Iustices dissemble, the Officers compoūd, the Gentlemen play, and the women go at large. Thinke you Sir, that a man learned, giuen to reading, solitary and busied, doth not more loose tyme in hearing these newes, than to cure an infirmitie with euill diet: to haue delight in mur∣muring, he must be ill tongued that talketh: of lend dispositiō, and of euill condicion, that delighteth therein. They say that the good Marques of Santillana vsed to saye, that euill tongs and euill eares did frame pleasant murmurings. There be so many men in this Court loytering, superfluous, idle,* 1.245 vaga∣rant and euill tonged, that if Laurence Temporall bée so great workman in refining clothes, as they bée in shearing their neighbours liues, we maye boldly giue more for the refining of cloth of Segeuia, than for the cloth in Graine of Florencia.

My Lord, I saye all this to the ende you haue me excused for my want of diligence, and also to giue you to vnderstand of my condicion, the whiche stretched no farther with his friendes, than to make them aunswere to their letters, and that sometime I write vnto them. Before all things I am right glad of the sentence gyuen on your Lordships behalfe, wherin they haue entituled you with Towne of Duennas, and

the Earldome of Buendia, in whiche I beséeche God giue you many yeares of fruition, and children to inherit. For it is no small sorrowe to sée strange childrē inherit our proper sweat.

Your Lordship doth write vnto me in your letter, that I pray vnto God to giue you grace, as well to saue you, as also to gouerne this estate: whereunto I aunswere, as also vnto them of the Towne of Duennas: great is the mischance, if they should not bée better intreated than my sacrifice of God aceepted. Do you not thinke that I being a sinfull man, a re∣ligious sinner, and a Courtlike sinner, shall not haue ynough to pray for myne own sinnes, but that I must burdē my selfe with you? Much is God pleased with the prayer of the iust, but much more he doth delight in the amendment of the sin∣ner: for it doth litle profit for the one to augment his prayers, if the other do not diminishe his sinnes. If you will gouerne this Earledome very well, begin the gubernation in youre selfe: for it is impossible for him to vnderstand to gouerne the common wealth, that doth not know to rule his owne house, or order his owne person: when the Lorde is milde, honest, chast,* 1.246 sober, silent, patient, and deuout: all his housholde and common wealth be likewise affected: and if by chaunce there be any seruaunts absolute or dissolute, they must be hidden and withdrawen, which to the Lord is no small glory: for hée doth not little, y^t taketh holdnesse from any man in his house to be euill. In the houses where Lordes are ambitious, rashe, quarelling, lyars, gluttons, gamsters, infamous, and leche∣rous: what steward may bring to passe that the seruants bée honest, seeing they do not, but what their maisters do allowe, and likewise do. The wordes of Lords be fearfull, but theyr good works do animate: and I say it to this end: for their ser∣uaunts and vassalles do rather imitate the works they sée thē do, than the words they heare them speake.

The charge that a Bishop hath of his housholde and Dio∣cesse, the same hath a Gentleman of his seruants. For, it is not sufficient that a master or Lorde pay his seruants what is dew, but that they make them also do their dutie: it is a la∣mentable

thing to sée; that a mother shall send hir sonne to the house of Gentleman clad, shod, shamefast, honest, solitarie, well mannered, and deuoute, and at the yeares end, the poore yong man shall returne ragged bare legged, dissolute, a glut∣ton, a dice player, a liar, and a quarreller, in such wise, that it had bin lesse euill to haue had him dead, than sent to such pal∣lace or Court. Let the conclusion of this case be, that in suche maner you order your life and gouerne your house, that your owne may haue to follow, and straungers to prayse.

That the Knight ought to be to God gratefull and to men pitifull.

ALso it is right necessary that alwayes you haue in remembrance the bounties and good things ye haue receyued of God. In speciall to giue you this Earledome (be depriued the Earle youre Brother of his life, the Lady countesse died, disherited your Cosin, & gaue a sentence against the Admirall,) in suche wise that you owe vnto God not only for the gift thereof, but also for the deliue∣rance of the incumber thereof. My Lorde be ye certaine that although before God all sinnes be gréeuous, yet the sinne of ingratitude is holden for most intollerable: for God will not any thing that we haue but only for that which he giueth vs;* 1.247 we be thankfull. Giue thanks vnto God for that he created re∣déemed, and reléeued you, and also prouided for you. And sure∣ly with this estate & Earledome (if you kéepe rekoning with your rent, and measure in expences) you may serue God, and liue honorably. Although this Earledome hathe cost muche trauell, perilles, sutes, anger, and money: contend not wyth God, thinking that you haue obtained it by youre owne dili∣gence, but confesse his great mercie to haue giuen it: for the victories and good gifts that God doth giue vs, we may desire thē & also craue thē, but not deserue thē. Remēber (my Lord) that god hath remoued you frō anger to ease, frō poore to rich,

from asking to giuing, from seruing to commaunding, from misery to plentie, and from sir Peter to be intitled the Earle of Buendia, in such wise that you owe vnto God not only the state that he hath giuen you, but also the miserie that he hath taken from you. Oh how great mercie doth God vse with that man, that giues him wherewith to giue, and putteth him not in estate to craue of any man. For to shamefast faces, and to generous hearts, there is no trauell that so doth perce their intralles, as to enter to craue at other mens dores. Plutarch reported of the great Pompeius, that being sicke in Pusoll, whē the Phisitions saide, that to be hole and recouer strength, it were conuenient hée shoulde eate of certain Zorzales that the Consull Luculus did bréede:* 1.248 he aunswered I will rather die, than sende to craue them, for the Goddes haue not created Pompeius to aske, but to giue.

My Lord I saye thus much, to the ende ye consider, since God hath giuen you liberally, that you néede not craue of any man, that you be not rechlesse to giue as they gaue you, to suc∣cour as they succoured you, and to part as they parted with you. For of the temporall goods that God giues vs, we be not lords but reparters. Although the Earledom of Buendia be of no great rentes, yet maye you do with it many good workes. For (as I haue said) the gentleman that knoweth to rule his house, and to order his goodes: hée shall haue to spende, to kepe, and to giue. For Princes and Lordes of power ought not to bée called great or mighty for the proude estates that they hold, but for the great rewardes they giue. The office and dewtie of the labouring man, is to digge, the religious to be contemplatiue, the priest to pray, the craftes man to worke, the Marchaunt to be guilefull,* 1.249 the vserer to keepe, the poore to craue, and of the gentleman to giue: for vppon that day, that the gentleman doth beginne to hourde vp money: from thēce foorth, he putteth his fame in proclamation.

In Lordly houses and of inheritours, there ought to be the haunts of brothers, cosines, nephewes, vncles, and all others of his kinne, bearing good will to their affaires, and suppor∣ting

their necessities. In suche wise, that to them there is no houre forbidden, or any dore shut: neuerthelesse there are some Brothers, Cosins and Nephewes, tedious in theyr spéech, so importunate in visiting, and so without measure in their crauing: that they make a man angrie, and also abhorre them: and the remedy for suche, is to succour their necessities and to appart their conuersations.

You shall now find in your Earledome retaynours of your Fathers, Seruants of your Brothers, allies of youre house, and friends of all your dealings, vnto whome you ought in generall to vse good countenance, speake sweete words, gyue good hope, and deale some rewards: for if you should be ingrate vnto them, you should run into greate indignation of the peo∣ple. Also my Lord you shal find some old Seruants and some poore widowes, vnto whome youre predecessours commaun∣ded to be giuen some pension or some refreshing for trauelles past, or for seruice they did them: beware in no wise to take it away, neither yet to diminish it: For besides that vnto you it were a great wretchednesse, and vnto them a great want: In the place to pray vnto God for your life, they would craue of God vengeance vpon you. Without comparison you ought to haue more feare to doe iniurie vnto the poore,* 1.250 than to the riche: for the riche doth reuenge himselfe with armes, but the poore with teares.

Also you shall finde in youre Earledome some yong men and maydens, that were children of old seruants, and the so∣rowfull orphanes, neither haue father to help them, neyther good to sustayne them: your Lordship ought in suche cases to bring vp the sonnes, and to mary the daughters: for there is not in this world an almes of God more accepted, thā to giue mariage vnto a damsell vpon the point to be cast away.

As it is a great offence to cause another to sinne, so doth hée deserue much glory, that takes away the offence for another to fal: for certainely we are more beholding to him that kéeps vs from stumbling, than vnto him that helps vs vp. Also you shall find some men and women, of whom they shall say vnto

you, that they were affectioned to one partialitie, and offen∣ded at the other,* 1.251 and in such cases take no care to make search, and much lesse to take vengeance: for the noble harts ought neuer to thinke themselues iniured, but of such as be mighti•• like themselues. If any want of dutie or offence hath bin done vnto you by any of youre estate, I holde it for more suretie to dissemble it, than to reuēge it: for it may so happen, that thin∣king all lawe were ended, there mighte arise vnto you other new more indigested angers. It is tollerable that the Lords do chastise his vassall, but not that he reuenge: for it is sure that he will not only defend him selfe, but also attempt to of∣fend, and the offence shall be, raising his countrey, and defa∣ming his person. If you will be reuenged of such as haue gy∣uen some occasion, be grateful vnto those that did follow and serue you: for after this maner they shall remayne recom∣pensed, and the other confounded. And let it be in this cace for conclusion, that in my iudgement and conceit, your Lordship ought not to care to remember the iniuries they haue done you, but the seruice that now they do you: and make no ac∣count to make quarells with your vassals, for in things of cō∣mon libertie, he that shall séeme most to serue you, the same is he that most will sell you.

That a Knight do minister Iustice in his Countrey.

ALso it is necessary to the good gouernment of youre vassalles, that you leaue them to bee gouerned of vertuous men and of experiēce: for ther is no mā in this world so wise, that néedeth not the counsell of another. We sayd not without graue consideration: that you should vse men of experience, and sayde not that you shoulde take men of learning: For matters in law must be commen∣ded vnto the learned, but gouernment of the common wealth vnto men of wisedome. For we sée euery day by experience, what difference or aduauntage there is, betwixt hym that

hath a good wille, and him that knoweth no more but out of Bartlet.* 1.252 If you fynde any that ioyntly is both learned and wise: leaue not to lay hande vppon him, nor let him slip for any price: for learning to giue sentence, and prudence to go∣uerne, be two thynges that many desire and fewe doe ob∣tayne.

My Lord you haue to be aduised to commend youre coun∣tries to mouthy or brutishe bachelers, that come from Sala∣manca, which bringing their science in their lippes, and their witte in their sachelles, before they can chance to do Iustice, they shall escandelise the common wealth, and also robbe the whole countrey. Those that do procéede from Colledges, and from the Vniuersities, as they tie themselues to that theyr Bookes do say, and not to that whiche theyr eyes doe sée: and to that their science doth speake, and not to that whiche experience doth find: such are good to be aduocates, but not to gouerne.

Sir beléeue me and be out of doubt, that the art of gouern∣ment, neyther is sold at Paris, either is found at Bolloigne, nei∣ther yet learned at Salamanca, but is found out by prudence, is defended by Science, and conserued by experience. Plato in his booke of common wealth sayd these words: Consilium pe∣ritorum ex apertis obscura, ex paruulis magna, ex proximis remota, ex partibus tota aestimat. As if he should haue sayde: the man that is wise and of experience: the cleare he holdeth for darke, the little for great, the neare to be far off, the gathered together to be cast abrode, the certaine for doubtfull.

Out of these words of Plato there may be gathered, the dif∣ference betwixt science and experience: for that we sée inex∣pert men holde all things for easie, and he that is expert iud∣geth all things difficult. God dealeth mercifully with suche men, as he leaueth not into y^e hands of proude captaines, rash Pilots, vnlearned Lawyers, foolishe Phisitions, and vnex∣pert Iudges: bycause the proude Captayne fighteth out of time, the rash Pilots sendes you to the bottome, the vnlear∣ned Lawyer looseth youre matter, the foolishe Phisition

spoyles your life,* 1.253 and the vnexpert iudge robbeth your goodes. The Iudges to whome you shal put your conscience in trust, and commende youre common wealth, ought to be honest in their liues, vpright in iustice, pacient in iniuries, measured in their spéech, iustified in that they commaund, righteous in iudgement, and pitifull in their executions. Beware of Iudges that be childish, foolish, ouerbold, rash, and bloudy: which to the end their fame shall sounde at Courte, that from thence they may receyue commission of Iustice: they wil commit a thou∣sand cruelties in your countreyes, and will giue a thousande displeasures to youre persone, in suche wise, that many times there néedes more reformation for their disorders, than for the offences youre vassals shall commit. I do lie if it did not happen on a time to me in Arreuallo, being warden with a new vnexpert Iudge: which bicause I did somewhat aduer∣tise him that he was ouer furious and cruell, sayde: Father Warden, you get youre meate by preaching, and I get it by hanging: and by your Lady of Gadilupe, I do more estéeme to put a foote or a hand to the Pillery, than to be Lord of Vento∣silla. When I heard him mention Ventosilla, I replied thys word, of my troth master Iustice, iustly apertayneth vnto you the Lordship of Ventosa, for you may not be contayned in Vē∣tosilla. But prosecuting our intent, it is to wit: that those that the Romaines did call Censors or iudges, we do call Corregi∣dores or Correctors, and it was amongst them a lawe inuio∣lable, that they made no man a Iudge, that was not at the least aboue forty yéeres old: he shoulde be maried, holden for honest, meanely ritch, nor infamed with couetousnesse, and that in other offices of the common wealth hée had expe∣rience.

Iulius Caesar, Octauius Augustus, Titus Vespatianus, Neruus Coceyus,* 1.254 Traian the iust, Antony the méeke, and the good Mar∣cus Aurelius: All these so glorious Princes from the office of Iudges, did rise to be Emperours, in suche wise, that in those dayes, they did not prouide offices for men, but men for offi∣ces: for the office of Gouernour, Iustice, and corrector, many

will be suters: and for many they will make sute, but in any wise you ought to be aduised howe ye make promise thereof to any man, eyther for prayers or intreataunce to giue the same. For your good, you may giue to whome you shal think good, but the rod of iustice to him who shall beste deserue it.* 1.255 Also some of your seruants (in recompence of seruice) will craue the office of iustice: and in my iudgement, you oughte lesse to giue it vnto those than vnto any other: for in saying they be your seruants, & that you shal beleeue them more thā the rest: The people shal not dare to complayn, and they shall haue libertie the more to robbe and steale.

If any man or woman shall come to complain before your Lordship of your Iustice, giue him eare at leysure, and with good will, and if you shall fynd his complaynte to be true, re∣moue his griefe, and reprehende your Iusticer: but if it bée not so, declare how iust it is that he commaundeth, and how vniust that he demaundeth: for the base countrey people doe holde the words of their Lord for gospell, & of the officer as a passioned. If it be not cōuenient for the Iudge you shal choose, that he bée skilful to steale or bribe, muche lesse dothe it be∣seeme your Lordeship to be a nigarde or couetous, neyther with the price of iustice to profit your chamber. Aduise your Iustices, that haynous, bloudy, desperate, and scandalous of∣fences (in no wyse) be redeemed with money: for it is impossi∣ble that any may liue in suretie, eyther goe safe by the highe way, if there be not in the common wealth the whip, the hal∣ter, and the sworde. There are so many quarellers, vaga∣bonds and théeues, murtherers, rebels, and sedicious, that if they had hope for money to escape Iustice, they would neuer cease to commit offences. And therfore it is conuenient, that the Iudge bée wyse and skilfull, to the ende he chastise not all offences with extremitie: neither that he leaue somtime with the voyce of the king to honoure the people. Also your Lord∣ship hath to prouide, that the officers of your audience, which is to wit, Counsellers, Atturneys, and Scriueners, be faith∣full in the processe they make, and no tyrantes in the Lawes

they haue in hande:* 1.256 for many tymes it doth happen, that one cōming to complayn of an other, they do not iustice vpon the person that gaue the quarel, but they execute iustice vpon the pouche that he weareth. Also aduise your Iustices, that they dispatche their affaires with breuitie and with trouth: with trouth, bicause they shall iudge iustly: with breuitie, that it be done with expedition: for it hapneth to many Clients, that without obteyning that they craue, they consume al that whi∣che they haue. Also your Lordship ought to prouide and com∣maunde the ministers of your iustice, that they doe not disho∣nor, misvse, shame, or despise such as come to your audience, but that they be mylde, modest, and manerly. For sometimes the sorowful suter doth more féele a rough word they speake, than the Iustice they delate. I assure you, there be officers so absolute, without temperance, and so yll manered, that they presume to doe more cruelties with their pen, than Roulande with his sworde.

* 1.257Also your lordship hath to prouide, that your Iudges doe not suffer themselues to be muche visited, accompanied, and muche lesse serued. For the iudge can not hold narrow frend∣ship with any man, that is not in the preiudice of iustice: for verie fewe resorte vnto the Iudge for that he deserueth, but for the power he holdeth.

In the common wealthe dissentions, angers, quarelles of ambition amongst your officers of Iustice, neither ought you to dissemble, or in anye wise consente vnto: for at the in∣stant that they shall grow into quarels, the people shal be de∣uided into partialities: wherof may rise great offences in the common wealth, and great want of reuerence to youre per∣son. Concluding in this case (I say) that if you will hold your Countrey in iustice, giue your Officers occasion to conceyue opinion that you loue Equitie: And that for no request or in∣terest, you will be remoued from the same: for if the Lord be iust, his officers neuer dare to be vniust.

That a Knight or Gentleman be mylde, and of good gouernance.

ALso it is necessarie to the good gouernmēt of your house & cōmon wealth,* 1.258 y^t your behauior towardes your subiects be suche, that with the meaner sort ye deale as with sonnes, with the equall as with brothers, with the ancient as with fathers, and with the stran∣gers as with felows: for you ought much more to estéem your self in holding them for frends, than to cōmaund them as vas∣sals. The difference betwixt the tirant & the Lord is, that the tyrant (so he may be serued) makes small accompt to be belo∣ued: but he that is a Lorde wise, and will rather choose to be beloued than serued, and I assure you he hath great reson, for y^e person that giues me his heart, will neuer denie me his goods. The great Philosopher Licurgus in the laws he gaue to the Lacedemonians, did commaund and counsel: That the auncient men of his common wealth shoulde not talke stan∣ding, neyther be suffred to stand bareheaded: and I say it to this ende: For that it shall diminishe nothing your authori∣tie or grauitie, in that you shall say vnto the one, be couered Gossip, and vnto the other, sit down frende. The good Empe∣rour Titus was worthily beloued, for that the old men he cal∣led fathers, the yong men fellowes, Strangers Cousins, the priuate frendes, and all in generall brothers.

The gentleman that is humble, courteous, and of a good bringing vp, strangers loue him, and his owne do serue him, for courtesie and friendly behauiour is more honour to hym that vseth it, than to whom it is done. I am not far in in loue with many Gentlemen, vnto whom there goeth to talk and to dispatche affaires, olde honorable and wise men (although poore) & they neuer offer vnto thē so much curtesie, as to say, aryse, neyther be couered, and muche lesse to sit downe, con∣ceiuing all their greatnesse to consiste, in not commaundyng

to giue them a stoole, eyther to put of their cap to any man: note and consider well this which I say vnto your Lordship, that the authoritie, greatenesse, and grauitie of Lordes and Gentlemen, doth not consist to haue their vassals knéeling, and bare headed, but in gracious and good gouerning them.

When I heard a certain knight valiant and of noble bloud (yet disdainfull and very proud) that vsed always to say to all men (although of worship he talked withal) thou, thou, and he he, & neuer added wordes of fauor, worship, or curtesy: I said vnto him: By my life sir I assure you, and do iudge many ty∣mes with my selfe, y^t for this cause God or the king shew you any fauor, bicause you neuer talk with any man with words of fauor, worship or curtesie. He did so much féele this word, that from thence forward, he left to say thou, and said vnto all men: My maisters, or by your fauors. All men that shal come to talke and haue businesse with your Lordship, you ought to vse with mildnesse, honour, and also fawne on them, as eue∣rie man shall deserue, and according to their degrées, cōman∣ding the olde men to couer, the yong men to rise, and some to sit downe. For if they delight to serue as vassalles, they will not that you intreate them as slaues: many vassals wée doe sée euery day rise against their Lords, not so much for the tri∣butes they raise on them, as for the euil dealings they vse to∣wards them:* 1.259 always your Lordship hath to remember, that you and they haue one God to honor, one King to serue, one lawe to kéepe, one land to inhabite, and one death to fear: and if you hold this before your eies, you shall speak vnto them as vnto brothers, and deale with them as with Christians.

Aboue all things take greate héede, to say at the sodaine to any of your subiects any word that shall staine his kinred, or iniurie his person, for there is no villain of Saigo so insensi∣ble that doth not more féele an iniurious word that is spoken, than the chastisement which is giuen: and there is a greater euil therin than this, that amongst the cōmon and countrey-people, all the kinred doth aunswere for the iniurie, and the shame to one, redoundeth to the despite of the whole: whereof

it hapneth many times, that to be reuenged of a worde, the whole people do rise against their Lord. So in this case take my counsell, that if any your subiects shal doe a thing whiche he ought not to do, that you determine to chastise him, & not to vpbrayd or defame him: for the chastisement he shal think to procéede of iustice, but your vpraiding of malice. For any di∣stemperance that may gréeue you, or maye happen to anger you: Auoyde in any wise to call any man knaue, Iew, filth, or villaine: for besides that these woords be rather of tiplers, than of Knightes or Gentlemen: The Gentleman is bound to be as chast of his spéech, as a virgin of hir virginitie: for a gentleman to be of a distempred spéeche, foule mouthed, euill manered, loude and foule spoken, this maye not procéede of any other occasion, but that he is melancholike,* 1.260 a coward and feareful. For it is notorious vnto all men, that vnto the wo∣man it appertaineth to be reuenged with the toung: but the knight or Gentleman with his launce.

The king Demetrius had a certain loue named Lamia, whi∣che when she demaunded Demetrius why he didde not speake and was not merrie, he made answere: Holde thy peace La∣mia, and let me alone, for I doe as wel my office, as thou dost thine: for the office of the woman is to spin and prattle, and the office of the man is to holde his peace and fight. To buffet the boyes of the chamber, to pull them by the heare, to ioll them against the portall, and to spurne with the féete: Your Lordship ought not to do it, neither consent that it bée done in your presence. For in palaces of auctoritie and grauitie,* 1.261 to the Lord it appertaineth to manifest his mind, and to the stu∣arde to chastise. If your lordship shall commaunde to chastise or to whip any page or seruaunt: prouide that it be doone in a place priuie and secrete: for it ought to be very strange vn∣to the Lord or Gentleman that is noble & valiant, to sée any man wéepe, either to heare any complaine. The writers of histories do muche prayse the Emperour Octauius Augustus, which did neuer consent that any execution shoulde be doone whilest he was within the walles of Rome, but for the taking

away of any mans lyfe, he always went to hunting: By the contrarie, the Historiographers do much reprehend the Em∣perour Aurelius, who before his owne eyes, commaunded his seruants to be whipt and chastised, which certaynly he should not haue doone: for the clemencie of the Prince oughte to bée such, that not only they should not sée the execution, neyther yet so much as the person that is executed.

* 1.262Your Lordship also hath to beware to aduenture to recoūt newes, to compound lies, to relate fables, and to tell tales: For the foolishe man, and the tatling tedious Gentleman, be brothers children. The officers and seruantes of your house, you haue to kéepe them corrected, warned, and also in feare: that they rayse no quarels, robbe no orchardes, spoyle no gar∣dens, neither dishonour maried women: In such sort that the seruants presume not to doe that whiche theyr Maisters dare not commaunde: the yong men and pages that shal attende on you, cause them to learne the commandements, to praye and fast, and to kéepe the Sabbaoth dayes: For God wyl ne∣uer deale mercifully with you, if you make not greatter ac∣compt that they serue God, than your selfe. Suche as shall play at cardes or dice (for drie money) not only chastise them, but also dispatch them away, for the vice of play may not be susteyned but by stealing or disceyt. The pages and yong mē that you shall take into your chamber, you haue to make choyse of suche as be wyse, honest clenly and secret: for bab∣ling and foulemouthed boyes, they will imbesill your appa∣rell, & staine your fame. Commaunde the Controller of your house, that the pages be taught to go clenly, to brushe, and laye vp their apparel, serue at the table, put of their cap, vse reue∣rence, and to speake with good maner, bicause it may not bée named a palace, where there wants in the Lorde shamefast∣nesse, and in the seruants good bringing vp.

To the seruaunt that shall be vertuous, and agréeable to your condition, trust him with your person, let him cōmaund in your house, incommend him with your honoure, and giue him of your goods, vpon suche condition that he presume not

to be absolute lord of the common weal: for that day that they holde such one in reuerence, they shall estéeme you but little. If you will enioy seruice, and be frée from displeasures, you shall giue no man suche rule in your estate, that your seruant shall thwart you, or your vassal disobey you. Also your Lord∣ship is to be aduertized (in that as now ye enter of new) you attempt not to doe manye newe thinges: for euery noueltie doth not more please him that doth institute the same, than the accomplishement therof displeaseth hym to whome it is commaunded.

Lactantius Firmianus doth saye, that the common wealth of the Sicienians endured longer, than that of the Grekes,* 1.263 Aegyp∣tians, Lacedemonians, and the Romaines, bicause in seuen hun∣dreth and fortie yeares they neuer made newe lawes, ney∣ther brake their olde. Suche as shall counsell you to renewe your Iudges, chaunge your Iustices, make proclamations,* 1.264 and to remoue your seruice to other persons vnknown. Con∣sider very well, if they attempte the same, to the ende that you shall not erre, or else to amend their owne estate. For it was a lawe amongst the Athenians, that he shoulde haue no voyce in the common wealth, that pretended to haue interest in that which he counselled.

Now at the beginning you haue muche cause to consider in whom to trust, and with whom to take counsell: for if the counseller be such as hopeth thereby to gather any gaine: to that end he will direct his counsell, where his affection is en∣clined. In suche sorte that if he be couetous, he will séeke to rob, and if he be malicious or matched with enimies, how to be reuenged. And also such things as you shall finde in your house to be reformed, and your common welth to be chastised. It is not my opinion that you amend or reforme all things in hast that is amisse: For it is not iust, neither yet sure, that an∣cient customes of the cōmon people be taken away sodeynly, being brought in by little and little. The customes that touch not the faith, neither offende the Churche, eyther offende the Common wealth, take them not away, neither alter thē: the

which if you will not for their cause, yet for your owne cause disfauor the same (for if I be not deceiued) in the house where dwelleth nouelties, there lodgeth want of iudgement.

* 1.265Also my Lord I counsell you, y^t you in suche wise measure your goods, that they liue not with you, but that your lordship liue with them. I say it bicause there be many noble men of your estate, that kéepe a great house with other mens goodes: he that hath much, & spendes little, they call him a nigarde: & he that hath little & spendes muche, they hold him for a foole: for which cause men ought to liue in such sorte, y^t they bée not no∣ted mizers for their kéeping either prodigal for their spēding.

* 1.266My Lord Earle, be none of those that haue two quentes of rent, & foure of follies, which alwayes go taking by lone, dea∣ling by exchāge, taking rent aforehand, and selling their pa∣trimonie: In such maner, as all their trauel doth cōsist not in mainteyning house, but in sustayning follies. Many other things I might say vnto youre Lordship in this matter, the which my pen doth leaue to write, to remit them vnto your prudencie. No more but the Lorde be your protector.

From Valiodolid the thirde of Nouember.

A letter vnto the Admirall Sir Fadrique Enriques, wherin is declared, that olde men haue to beware of the yeare three score and three.

MOste renoumed Lorde and great Admirall, I assure you, I maye firmely aduouche vnto your honour, that at the instant, there was not anye thyng farther oute of my mynde, than was your letter when I sawe it enter into my Cell: and incontinente I imagined with my selfe, that you wrote vnto mée some iest, or sent vn∣to me to declare some doubt.

* 1.267To the very like purpose the diuine Plato did say, that such is the excellencie of the heart, aboue all the other membres of man, that many tymes the eyes be deceiued in the things

they sée: and the hart doth not erre in that it doth imagin. The Consul Silla, when he sawe Iulius Caesar being a yong man e∣uill trussed, and worse girt: (for whiche cause many did iudge him to be negligent, and also doltish) sayd vnto all those of his band, beware of that il girt youth: that although he appeareth to be such, yet this is he that shall tirannise the Citie of Rome, and be the ruine of my house. Plutarch in the life of Marcus Antonius recounteth of a certaine Gréeke named Ptolomeus: which being demaunded wherefore he did not talke, or was conuersant with any man in all Athens, but with the yong man Alcibiades? answered, bycause my hart giueth me, that this yong man shall set Greece on fire, and defame all Asia. The good Emperour Traiane sayd, that he was neuer deceyued in choosing fréends, and in knowing of enemies: for presently his hart did aduertise him, to whome he shoulde repaire, and of whome he should beware. And if we well consider the fore∣sayd: neither the hart of Silla was deceyued in that he propbe∣sied of Iulius Caesar, neyther the Art of Ptolomeus did erre in that he diuined of Alcibiades: bycause the one depriued Rome of hir libertie, and the other darkned the glory of Greece. Thus much I thought to saye vnto youre Lordship, to the ende you might sée, how my hart was not deceiued in diuining what you had written, and also what you craued.

I may very well say, that sometimes your Lordship wri∣teth me some iests that makes me mery: and sometimes you demaund questiōs, that makes me watch: for your Lordship hath your iudgement so cleare, your memorie so readye,* 1.268 the Scripture so prompt, the time so disposed, and aboue all great swiftnesse in writing, and much vse in reading: that you doe me great gréefe to importunate me so often to declare that which you vnderstande not, and to séeke out that whiche you may not finde, to expound as I did the verses of Homer, too de∣clare the life of Antigonus, to search you the historie of Methi∣ados the Thebane, to relate you the Ceruatica of Sertorius, you haue iudged to be don in maner without trauel: but I sweare by the law of an honest man, I was ouer watched in séeking,

spent in disposing, and tried in writing it. Many other Lords of this kingdome, and also out of the same do write vnto mée, and craue that I declare them some doutes, and send thē some histories: which doutes and demaundes be all plaine and ea∣sie, and at thrée turnes, I finde them amongst my writings: but your Lordship is such a frend of nouelties as always you aske me histories so straunge and peregrine, that my wittes may not in any wise but néedes go on pilgrimage. My Lord comming, to the purpose, you say that the Earle of Mi∣randa did write vnto you, that eleuen dayes before the good Constable Sir Ynnigo of Velasco died, he hard me say and cer∣tifie that he shoulde die, the whiche as I then spake, so after∣wards it came to passe, but I would not declare vnto him, by what meane I vnderstood it.

Youre Lordships pleasure is, that I shoulde write vntoo you, whether I did speake it in earnest or in iest: or if I sawe in the sickeman any prognostication, or if I knewe in thys matter any great secret: the which I will discouer vnto you, if you promise me to kéepe it secret, and that vnto me thereof you be not ingrate. The truth is, I sayd it to the Earle of Mi∣randa, and also to the Doctour Carthagna: neyther did I know it by reuelation as a Prophet, either did I obtayne it in Cir∣cle as a Nigromanticke, either did I finde it in Ptolomeus as an Astronomer, nor vnderstand by the pulse as a Phisition, but I found it as a Philosopher: for that the good Constable did then goe in the yeare Climatike.* 1.269 At the present I vnder∣stood the Constable to be sick, I demaunded how old he was, and when they answered that he was thrée score and thrée, I sayde his life was in great perill, for that he was then in the most daungerous yeare to die.

For the vnderstanding hereof it is to wit, that all the lyfe of man is like a long & a perillous sicknes, wherin the seuēth and the ninth day is muche to be noted, for that in those cre∣tick dayes, the sick do mend or grow worse. That whiche the Phisition dothe call Terme in the sick man, is called in the whole by the Philosopher Climate: and from thence it is, that

from seuen to seuen yeares, and from nine to nine yeares, mē do chaunge their complexions, and also many times theyr conditions. That this is true, it clearely appeareth, in that the man which is now flegmaticke, we sée him turne cholerike, the furious to be milde, the prosperous to be vnfortunate, and also he that is wise remoue to be foolish. All whych com∣meth to passe, that after seuen or nine yeares, they haue chaunged as we haue sayde their conditions, and also theyr complexions. Also it is to be vnderstoode, that in all the dis∣course of oure lyfe, we onely lyue vnder one onely climat, the which is seuen, or nine yeares: except in the yeare of thrée∣score and thrée, in the which two termes of two climats doe ioyne, which is to witte, nine seuens, or seuen nines: because nine times seuen, and seuen times nine, be thréescore and thrée yeares, and therefore in that yeare many olde men dye. Those that come to the yeare of thrée score and thrée,* 1.270 oughte to lyue in very good order, and to walke very warely: because that yere is so perillous, that none passeth the same without suffering some daunger. Many and very notable men (in time past, and also present) died in that yeare of thréescore and thrée. More and ioyntly with this I saye, that the sonne that shall sée his Father passe this terme, let him not hope so soone to sée him die: neyther as yet to inherite.

The Romaine and Greeke Princes, after they sawe them∣selues escaped the yeare, théescore and thrée, they gaue greate gifts vnto their people, and also offered no small offerings in their Temples: as it is read of the Emperour Octauius, the Emperour Antonie the méeke, & the good Alexander Seuerus.

I thought good to giue a reckoning vnto your honor of this historie: or to say better, of this philosophie: because you maye vnderstand how I did diuine the death of the good Constable of Castile: which all we his friends and louers did sée, within the yeare sixtie thrée to begin to be sicke: and also to make and to dye. Of all the great-states of this kingdome, I holde some for kinsmen, others my good Lordes, some for neigh∣bours, and others for aquainted: but amongst them all, I

held him for my singuler good Lord and friend, for that I foūd him of a very good conuersation, and of a sounde condition. The good Constable was milde in commaunding, iust in go∣uerning,* 1.271 wise in spéeche, large in expence, valiant in battell, méeke in pardoning, and a very good Christian in liuing. For that your Lordship and he were captaynes in the warre, and Viceroys in time of peace: you will not denie that whiche I say to be very true, although I leaue of him much more to be said. When you gaue and also ouercame the battell of Reni∣ega neare vnto Pampalona, I do remember, that I comming vnto your honour to confirme two billes, the one as concer∣ning Iustice, the other for goodes: your Lordship sayde vntoo me these words: with me (father master) you haue framed and brought to passe, that I will do what you will, and con∣firme what you demaund: but it is necessary, that firste you informe the Constable of the case, and make relation vntoo him of the qualitie of the matter, for that he is very much ad∣uised in the distribution of goodes, and very scrupulous in matters of Iustice. The good Constable had with me very great familiaritie, and I with him inuiolable friendship, and vpon this foundation he did alwayes communicate with me matters of conscience, and discharges of his goodes, wherein alwayes I did know of hym, that he did procure to do well, and did shunne and auoyde to offende, I knowe not what to write more in this matter vnto your Lordship, but that the good Constable (if he finished his life here in Madrid) at the least in my chronicle his memorie shall remayne immortall.

From Madrid the xv. of October .1529.

A letter vnto the Admirall, Sir Frederique Enriques, in which is expounded, wherefore Abraham and E∣zechiell did fall forward, and Hely and the Iewes backwardes.

RIght renowmed Lord and Archmariner, great be the complaints that your Honor sendeth me in this your last letter: the one for that I haue not answered thys

yeare vnto youre writing: and the other, bycause I haue not sent your doubt absolued. The truth knowen and the certain∣tie vnderstood, neyther shall I be blamed, or you remaine of∣fended. The very truth that hath passed in this matter is, that as they haue stolen from Mansilla your seruant his horse, and he played away al his money that he brought by the way (in séeking to borow, to pay at his lodging) he forgat with me to take order for his answere. Since I read youre letters with a very good will, and presently forthwith did put my self in studie for your doubts, it is not iust that faulte to be impu∣ted vnto me, if youre seruantes be forgetfull to take their an∣swer. Oftentimes I was both ashamed and also offended, to sée your letters come so bitter and so cholerike: that of a troth to shew so much anger, and to write so heauie or leadenlike, youre Lordship had no occasion, and muche lesse any reason. But as your body is little, and your hart excéeding the same, by a third or fift: if you giue him place to speake what he wil, and that he complayne what he féeleth, beléeue me my Lorde and be out of doubt, you shall liue in your selfe payned and discontented, and of others not welbeloued.

The great and mightie Lords,* 1.272 ought of nothing more too presume or boast themselues, than to haue great harts, which they ought to inioy, (if they will imploy them well,) in mo∣derating themselues in great prosperities, and not to be dis∣maied in their great aduersities. My iudgement is, since your Lordship is naturally cholerike, and of small patience, that you giue not your selfe to write when you be distempered: for men do write many times in their choler, whiche after∣wards they would not should haue passed (so much as) their thoughts. To the argument whiche you alledge that I estée∣med you but little bycause I wold not answer presently: this I answere, I deny the premises, and defye the consequence: bicause your Lordship hath much, may do muche, deserueth much, and therefore we all estéeme you very muche. For me to be ignorant of the great estate of your persone, of bloud so vnspotted, of iudgement so delicate, in letters of so great ex∣ercise,

and of so greate dexteritie in armes: the cause were to great foolishnesse, or to much lacke of wit. But let the cace rest, let vs deuide all this vnkindnesse amongst vs, whiche is to wit, that your Lordship from hence forward deferre or put off your choler, pardon Mansilla for forgetting his letter: and also kind me to expound your doubts: and after this ma∣ner we will giue amends to that which is past, and vse silēce for the time to come.

Your honour demaundeth, that I declare, wherefore the Patriarch Abraham in the vale of Mambre,* 1.273 and the Prophete Ezechiel neare vnto the riuer Cobar, as holy scripture saith of them, fell to the ground vpon their faces: and contrariwise, Heli the Prophet, and the Iewes that tooke Christe, fell back∣wards Your Lordship hath to consider, that it is not so light or easie whiche you doubt of, for if I be not deceyued, it is a question that few men do moue, and in a manner none dothe expound. For notwithstanding I haue séene much, and read much, I can not remember me to haue considered or doub∣ted, neither at anytime to haue preached thereof: I dare bée bold to say, that by these two maners of fallings, the one back wards, and the other forwards, do signifie two kindes of sin∣ning. For euen as to fall after the one manner or the other, in the end all is falling: so in like manner, to sinne after the one sort or the other, all is sinning. Those that do fall vppon the backe, and backwards, we sée them haue their faces disco∣uered,* 1.274 and looking vp to heauen: by these are to be vnderstood: those which do sinne without the feare of God, & afterwardes haue no shame to haue sinned. We sée by experience that he that falleth forwardes, may helpe hym selfe to rise with hys hands, with hys elbowes, with his knées, and with hys féete: by this I woulde say, that then we haue hope to come out of sinne, when we shall be ashamed to haue sinned. The contrary happeneth in him that falleth backwards, y^t whych can neuer help him selfe with his handes, or lift him selfe, or stay with his féete. By this I would say, that the man that is not ashamed to be a sinner, late or neuer shall we sée hym

come out of sinne.

Plutarch and Aulus Gellius doe saye, that no yong man of Rome might enter amongst the common women, but wyth their faces very wel couered. If ther hapned any so vnshame-fast that durst enter or come foorth discouered: so openly was he chastised, as if he had committed some forcible adultery. It is to be noted, that all those that fell forward were saints: as Abraham and Ezechiel: and on the contrary, those that fell backwardes, as Hely the priest of the temple, and the Iewes that sold Christ were sinners. Out of all this there may bée gathered, how much, and how greatly we haue to regard, not only that we fall, either so much as to stumble: for we knowe not whether we shall fall forward as Abraham, or backward as the vnfortunate Hely. Considering we discend of sinners, liue amongst sinners, be conuersant amongst sinners, and this world being in so great want of iust men, we cannot de∣liuer our selues from all sinnes: ioyntly therefore with thys let vs pray vnto the Lord, that if he take away his grace, that we do fall, that he take not away shamefastnesse wherewith to arise. Much is God offended with vs to sée how little we estéeme to sinne, but he is muche more offended to sée howe slowly we remember to repent: for they be very few that do leaue to sinne, but at the time when they cannot more sinne. Oh how many moe be they that fal backward with Hely, thā forward with Abraham: for if there be one that is ashamed of sinne, there is an hundreth that account sinne but pastime. Let euery man estéeme himselfe as he list, and let euery man say what he supposeth:* 1.275 but for my part I hold none for a grea∣ter sinner, than he that accompts himselfe for very iust: ney∣ther do I conceyue for very iust, but he that acknowledgeth himselfe to be a great sinner. God doth well knowe what wee can do, and he vnderstandeth very well the strength that we haue: and thereof it is, that he is not offended for that we bée not iust, but bycause we doe not confesse to be sinners. I re∣turne to say, that God doth not maruell that we be humane in sinning, but y^t which doth offēd him is, for that being as we

are so great sinners, we would well make the world beléeue that we be very iust. Let the conclusiō be in this matter, that they only fall backwards with Hely, and with the Hebrewes, that so without remorse sit downe to sinne, as they would sit downe to eate, and lie downe to sléepe. Of that whiche I doe most maruell in this matter is, that being as we are fallen into most grieuous sinnes, we do so liue, and go so contented, as though we had receyued of God a safeconduit to be saued. Behold here my Lord your letter answered. Beholde youre doubt absolued. Beholde here my fault excused. And also be∣hold here your choler remoued. No more but that our Lorde giue you his grace, and vnto me his glory.

From Madrid the xj. of Nouember. 1528.

A letter vnto the Abbot of Monserrate, wherein is touched the oratories that the Gentiles vsed, & that it is a better life to liue in Monserrate, than at the Court.

MOst reuerend, and blessed Abbot, in the ele∣uenth Calends of May, your Monke brother Roger gaue me a letter of yours, which I re∣ceyued with gladnesse, and read with plea∣sure, for that it was from your fatherhoode, and brought by the hands of that graue Fa∣ther. Of Aurelianus the Emperour it is read, that the letters which Domitius sent vnto him were so tedious, that he heard them, but did not answer them: and the letters that the Cen∣sor Turinus sent him, he himselfe did read them, and with his owne hand aunswered them. Of a troth there be men so te∣dious in their spéech, and so without grace in writing, that a man would rather be sicke of a feuer, than heare their talke, either reade their letters.

No man, of any man ought to maruell, since men be so di∣uers in complexion, and so variable in condition, that many times against our will the hart doth loue which were muche better to be abhorred, and doth abhorre that which were bet∣ter

to be beloued. I say this father Abbot, to the ende you shall vnderstand, that as oft as they say, here is one of Monseratte, my heart reioyceth to heare some newes from thēce, and the eyes he quickened in readyng your letters.

Father you write vnto me, that I aduertise you, if in the olde tyme amongest the Gentiles were vsed holy Oratories: as nowe is vsed amongst the Christians: to which demaund I wil say what I haue read,* 1.276 and that which presently I do re∣mēber. The oracle of the Scicilians was Libeus, the Oracle of y^e Rodes was Ceres, the oracle of the Ephesians was the greate Diana, the Oracle of the Palestines was Belus, the Oracle of the Argiues was Delphos, the oracle of the Numidians was Iu∣no, the Oracle of the Romains was Berecinthia, the oracle of the Thebans was Venus, the oracle of the Spanyards was Pro∣serpina, (whose temple stood in Cantabria, which is now called Nauara.) That which the Christians do now call Hermitage, the Gentils did name Oracle. This Oracle stode always di∣stant from the Cities, and holden in very great veneration. There was always in the Temple one priest alone, it was well repaired, well lockte, and well indued, and those that went thither on stations, they might only kisse the walles, & also from the dores behold, but within they might not enter, except ordinarie priests, and strange Embassadors. Nere vn∣•••• the Oracle, they plāted trées, within alwais oyle did burn: the couering was all of lead to defende the raine: at the doore there stoode an Idoll the which they did kisse: they had there a certaine hollowe trunke where they did offer, and an house buylded where they lodged.

Plutarch doth much praise the Emperor Alexander the great for that in all the kingdomes he conquered, and in all the pro∣uinces that he subdued, he commaunded solemne Temples to bée made to praye in, and Oracles farre distant to visite.* 1.277 The king Antigonus that was page to the Emperour Alex∣ander, and father of king Demetrius, (althoughe they repre∣hend him to be absolute in gouernement, and dissolute in ma∣ners, the Historiographers do much praise him, bicause eue∣ry

wéeke he went once into the Temple, and euery moneth did sleepe one night to the Oracle. The Senate of Athens did muche more honour vnto the dinure Plato after his death, than they did when he was liuing: and the cause therof was, for that the good Plato, when he was wearie of reading and stu∣dying, did withdraw himself to liue, and also to dye neere vn∣to a certaine deuoute Oracle, wherin he was afterwards bu∣ried, and as God adorned. Archidamas the Greeke, that was sonne to Agesilaus, after hée had gouerned the cōmon wealth of Athens .22. yeares, & had ouercome by sea & by land ten bat∣tailes, he cōmaunded to he made in the most sharpe mountai∣nes of Argos a most solemne oracle, wherein Archidamas did ende his lyfe, and also for himselfe did choose a sepulchre. A∣mongst all the oratories that of olde they had in Asia, the most famous was the Oracle of Delphos: for to that place from all partes of the worlde they did concurre, and thither did carye moste presentes, and there made moste vowes, and also from thence of their Goddes receyued most answeres.

When Camillus ouercame the Samnits, the Romans made a vow, to make an image of gold to send to y^e Oracle, for which purpose the matrons of Rome, gaue their cholers, their rings, their bracelets, and their eare rings from their persons, for which liberalitie they were greatly honored and largely pri∣uiledged. I haue sayd all this Father Abbotte, to the end y•…•… shall vnderstand, that it is no new thing in this world to haue amongst the people temples and hermitages. The difference betwixt ours and theirs, is: that those Oracles men haue ap∣poynted, but our sanctuaries God doth choose, whereof there followeth great vtilitie, and no small securitie: for that in the place that of God is chosen, wée may praye withoute any scruple. I doe remember I haue bene at oure Ladies of Lorito, of Gadalupe, del a penia de Francie, del a Hoz de Se∣gouia, y de Balunera, the which house and sanctuaries be all of much praier & admiration: but for my contēt & my conditi∣on, our Ladie of the craggy Rocke, I finde it to be a buildyng

of admiration, a temple of prayer, and a house of deuotion. Father Abbot I assure you of a troth, I did neuer sée my selfe amongst those sharpe crags, amongst those high mountains, amongst those cruell rocks, & amongst those thick woods, that I did not purpose to be an other, that I did not sorow for time past, and that I did not abhorre libertie, & did loue to be alone. I did neuer passe by craggie moone that forthwith I was not contrite, that I was not repentant at great leysure, that I did not celebrate with teares, that I did not watche one nyghte, that I gaue not to the poore: & aboue all, that I did not fill my selfe with sighing, and purpose to amend. Or that it pleased the God of heauen that I were suche here, and in my whole lyfe, as I haue purposed to bee when I was there. The more I goe laden with dayes, the more dull I féele my selfe in ver∣tues, & which is worst of al, that in good desires I am a saint, and in dooing good works I am a sinner, preaching as I doe preach, that heauen is full of good works, & hell is full of good thoughts. I knowe not whether they be my frendes that doe counsel me, parents that doth importune me, enimies that do direct me, businesse that doth hinder me, Caesar that withoute ceasing commaundes me, or the diuell that temptes me. The more I doe purpose to parte from the worlde, more and more I fynde my selfe sinkyng to the bottome thereof. The trouth is, that the lyfe of the Courte, is verie pleasaunte for such as haue an appetite therto: for there we suffer hunger, colde, thirste, wearynesse, pouertie, sorrowe, angers, disfa∣uours and persecutions: all whyche be tollerable and verie easy to be suffered: for there is none that dothe hynder oure libertie, neyther taketh reckening of our ydlenesse. Beléeue mée father Abbotte, and be oute of doubte, for the soule and also for the bodye, your lyfe is muche better there at Craggye Mounte, than this that wée leade héere at Courte: for the Courte serueth better to heare newes thereof, than to ex∣perimente the things that passeth therin. In the Courte he that may doe little is soone forgotten, and hée that hath some∣what,

is pursued. In the court the poore hath not to care, and the riche can not help himself. In the Court they be few that liue contented, and many that be abhorred. In the Court all procure to be in fauour and authoritie, and in the end one on∣ly doth commaunde. In the Court none hath desire there to die, notwithstanding we see not any that will departe from thence. In the Court we see many doe what they 〈…〉〈…〉t, but ve∣ry fewe what is méete, In the Courte all doe blaspheme the court, notwithstanding all follow the court. Finally, I say and affirme that which I haue said and preached, whiche is, that the Court is not but for men that be priuate and in fa∣uour, that can gather the frute therof: and for yong men that haue no feeling thereof. It with these conditions (Father Ab∣bot) you will come and dwell at Court, from hencefoorth I make exchaunge for your craggy mount, and also doe promise you by the faith of a Christian, you shall more repent you to haue bin conuerted a courtier, than I to be admitted of the re∣ligion of S. Benet. For the much good will I beare you, for the much deuotion I hold of that place, you are bound to pray vnto God,* 1.278 that he will draw me from this infamous life, and fight me with his grace, without the whiche we cannot serue hym, and much lesse be saued. By the handes of Frier Roger I haue receyued the spoones you sent me, and to him I deliuered the booke that he desired me: in such wise, that I shall haue spoones to eate with, and your fatherhod a booke to pray in. In the rest that you write, as concerning your Monasterie, the cace shall be, that you deale with God for me, as one that is deuoute, and I shall do with Caesar the worke of a friend. No more, but that our Lorde be your protector.

From Valiodolid the vij. of Ian. 1535.

A letter vnto the Admirall Sir Frederique Enriques, in the whiche there is declared a certaine authoritie of the holy scripture.

GLorious and right famous Archmarriner, I am deter∣mined before y^e Iudge Ronquillo to adiorne your Lord∣ship, to the end that the parties called and hearde, hée

he iudge and giue sentence betwixte vs, whether I, being as I am a Gentleman, and a Courtier, be bound to answere Extempore, vnto all your Letters: and to expounde all doub∣tes, which your honour so continually writeth vnto me. Your sollicitor is so importunate for answere (I confesse) that ma∣ny tymes I giue the seruaunt to the Deuil, and also at some∣time, I pray not vnto God for the maister.

Complayning yesterdaye vnto your solicitour, for that he was so tedious, and bicause so continually he did moue me, he made me answer with a verie good grace. Consider sir master I giue you to vnderstande, that the Admirall (my Lorde) cra∣ueth of your reuerence, that you write vnto him as a friend, that you send him newes as a Chronicler, declare his doubtes as a Diuine, and counsell his conscience as a Religious. Whervnto I replyed, if your maister the Admirall will be well serued, also I wil be wel payed. The paiment shal be, for the office of Chronicler, of a diuine, of a friend, and of a Coun∣seller: that since I cānot get my meat with the laūce, I must obtayn it with the pen. I made al this threatening, not to the intente your Lordship shall giue me to eate, but for that you should cease to be importune: for I thank God,* 1.279 the Emperour (that is my lord and maister) hath not onely giuen mée that whiche is necessarie, but also wherewith to reliene others. The benefit that we haue (that attend vpon Princes) is, that if we be bound to serue them, we haue alwais licēce to craue of them, but let the conclusion be, that with the same inten∣tion that I did speake those wordes here, it may please your Lordship to receiue them there: that in fine & in the end, chide we neuer so much, or be we neuer so angrie, you must nedes do what I desire you: and I must of necessitie doe what you commaunde me.

Your Lordships pleasure is, that I write vnto you, howe that texte is to be vnderstoode of Esaias, where he sayeth, Vae tibi Ierusalem, quia bibisti calicem irae Dei vsque ad feces: Whiche woordes are to bée vnderstoode: wo be vnto thée Ierusalem, bycause thou hast dronke the cuppe of the Lords wrath, euen

to the dregs. Your lordship asketh a matter so high, & a thing so profound, that I had rather vnderstand than speak it, tast it than write it: for they know more therof that be giuē to con∣templation, than such as be occupied in reading: but this is the doubt. Since God the father did send to Christ his son, a cup to drinke of bitternesse: wherof is Ierusalem reprehended, for the cup that she drank of wrath? the one was the cup, the o∣ther was the cup: the one of bitternesse, the other of wrathe: the Synagogue did receyue the one, and the Churche the other: Christe dyd drinke the one, Ierusalem dyd drynke the other: God sent the one, and God sent the other. But since it is so, why doe they so muche prayse the cuppe that Christe tasted of, and condemne the sorrowfull cuppe that Ierusa∣lem dyd drinke?

To vnderstand the profunditie of this scripture, we muste presuppose, that there be two maners of cuppes, which is to wit, the cup that is sayd simply only of God, and the cup that is sayd with an addition, that is, of the ire of God. There is so great difference betwixt these two cuppes, that in the one we drink heauen, in the other we swalow hell: the holy cup of God is no other thing but temptations, hunger, cold, thirste, persecutions, exile, pouertie, and martirdom: of which thin∣ges, God giues to drink and to tast, to such as he hathe chosen to serue him, and hath predestinate to be saued. Vnto whome God giueth this cup to drynke, it is a signe that he is regi∣stred amongest them that shall be saued: in suche sorte that we can not escape Hell, but at the coste of verie great trauel. Profoundly it is to be considered what Christ sayde: that the cup should not only be giuen to his owne person, but that it shoulde also passe vnto his Church, in such wise that he drank thereof, but he made not an ende: for if Christ had dronke al the cuppe, only Christ should haue entred the glorie. And for this cause he prayed vnto his father that the cup shoulde passe vnto those of his Churche, for that we shoulde all enter with him into the glorie. Oh high misterie neuer heard of, y^t Christ being in the Garden, in the darke alone, flat vpon his knées,

sweating, praying, and wéeping, he did not craue of hys Fa∣ther, that the elect of his Church shuld be cherished or world∣ly pampred, but of that cup he would giue them a draught to drinke. Of that cup of bitternesse and trauell, only Christ did drinke his fill: bicause he only was sufficient to redéeme vs. All we that came after Christ. If we cannot drinke our fill, I would to God we might drinke sufficient for our Saluation: the sword of saint Peter, the Crosse of saint Andrew, the knife of saint Bartelmew, the girdierne of S. Laurence, & the sheares of saint Steuen, what other things are they, but certaine bad∣ges they haue receyued of Christe,* 1.280 and certaine gulpes they haue drunke of his cup. So many more degrées we shall re∣ceiue in Heauen of Glorie, as we haue drunke of the cup of Christ in this life, and therefore we ought to pray vnto God euery day with teares, that if we cannot drinke all his cup, at the least that he will suffer vs to tast thereof. The cuppe of Christ (although it be bitter in drinking) after the drinking thereof, it doth greate profit: I would saye, that the trauells which we suffer to be good, they giue not so much paine when we endure them, as they afterwards giue pleasure, hauing passed them. Prouide who will of the wines of Illana, of the buttes of Candia, and of the pipes of Rebedew: but for my con∣solation and saluation, I aske not of God, but that al the days that remaine of my life, he giue me leaue to drink if he please but one drop of his cup.

There is another Cup which is called the cup of y^e wrath of God: wherof to speake, the entrailes do open, the hart doth faile, the flesh doth tremble, and the eyes do wéepe: with thys God doth threaten vs, this is that whiche the Prophet spea∣keth of: Of this the sorowfull Ierusalem did drinke: of this the vnfortunate Sinagogue did make hir selfe dronke. And the drunkennesse of this, was the cause that Israell was banished from Iudea, and translated into Babilon.

He drinketh of the cup of wrath, that falleth from the state of grace wherein he stood, wherof it foloweth that the soule is much more dead without grace, than a body without a soule.

Then it is sayde that God is an angred,* 1.281 when he is carelesse of vs, and that day that we be forgetfull to feare him, and he not delighted to loue vs, and stumbling at euery steppe, in the end of the iorney we shall be condemned. Oh what diffe∣rence there is in the wrath that men doe shewe, and in that wrath and yre, which is sayd to procéede from God: for when men be angry they reuenge, but God when he is angrie, hee ceaseth to chastise. In suche wise that God doth more chasten an euill man, when he deferreth & doth dissemble with hym, than when he doth presently torment him. There is not a greater temptation, than not to be tempted: there is no grea∣ter trouble, than not to be troubled: there is not greater cha∣stisement, than not to be chastised: neyther is there a greater whip, than not to be scourged of God. The sick man of whose helth the phisition dispaireth is in small hope of his life, I would say, that his sinne which God doth not chastise: I haue great suspition of his saluation.

It is much to be noted, that the Prophete dothe not onely threaten Ierusalem for that she did drinke the cuppe of wrath: but also bycause she did drink the grounds and dregs therof, vntill nothing was left: in suche wise, that if there had bin more, she woulde haue dronke more. To drinke of the cuppe vnto the dregges, is: that hauing offended God greeuously committing all manner of sinnes wickedly, forsaken some articles of the faith peruersely, and hauing sinned with al the members damnably: As if the commaundements being ten, had bin ten thousand, we had rather die than leaue any one of them disobeyed.

To drinke the Cup vnto the dregges, is when we be not contented with breaking of one commaundement or two or thrée, but that of force they must be broken al ten: to drinke y^e cup vnto the dregs, is: if we leaue to commit any sinnes, it is not for want of will, but for want of power, or for wante of occasion: to drinke the cup vnto the dregges is, that we doe not onely content our selues with sinning, but that we doe presume and boaste ourselues of oure sinning: to

drinke the cuppe vnto the dregges is, committing as we doe all manner of sinnes, we can not suffer that they call vs sin∣ners: to drinke the cup vnto the dregges is, to haue so greate vnshamefastnes in sinning, that we dare not entire and vrge others to sinne: to drinke the cup vnto the dregges is, to haue our desires like a saint, and our deserts like a deuill.

Behold here my Lorde Admirall, what I conceaue of that text of the Prophet, beholde here what I do thinke of youre doubt, and I beséech God our Lord that he being pleased, we may deserue to drinke of the cup that Christ did drinke of, and not of the cup that Ieremie doth write of. I write not vnto your lordship newes of the court as I was wont to write,* 1.282 bi∣cause it seemeth to commit treason vnto the holy Scripture, if we should place any profane things at the foote of so holy a matter. No more but that our Lord giue vs his grace.

From Madrid the xxv. of March.

Another letter vnto the same Commendathor, Sir Lewes Braue, wherein is written the conditions that the ho∣norable old men ought to haue: and that loue sildome or neuer departeth the hart where it is entred.

VEry noble and refourmed knight, by y^e words of youre letter, I vnderstoode how quickly the medicine of my writing came to youre hart, and I do much reioyce to haue shotte at you with an arrow so inuenomed, that was suffi∣cient to make you stagger: but not to strike you downe. Although in the other letter whiche I did write vnto you, it repented me to call you noble: now I holde it for very well imployed, in this letter to entitle you very noble, bycause you haue amended the abuse of your life, and answe∣red according to your noblenesse.

Sir you write vnto me, that the words of my letter did pe∣netrate your hart, and touch you to the quicke, and to say you

the troth, I was right glad thereof: for I did not write it that you should onely reade it, but to the end you should cordially féele it. Iointly with this I promise you as a Gentlemā, and sweare vnto you as a Christian, that it was not my mea∣ning when I did write vnto you to offend you, but to the in∣tent to amend you. Also you say, that at the instant you read my letter you burned the tokens of your enamored, dyd teare the letters of loue, dispatch the page of messages, remoued all talke of youre loue, and gaue a quittance to the Pandor. I cannot but praise what you haue done, and much more will praise it when I shall sée you continue and perseuer in the same. For vices be so euill to be vnrooted where they once take place: that when we thinke they be all gone, in the house they remayne hidden. Sir I giue you great thankes for that you haue done, and also do craue pardon for that I haue said, although it be true, to sée you amended I do little estéeme that you be offended. For an vnkindnesse is sooner lost, than vice remoued.

Also you craue of me in your letter, that since I haue writ∣ten you the conditions of an old man enamored, that I write also vnto you the conditions that a wise olde man ought too haue: bycause by the one may be knowne the shelfe that is to be shunned, and by the other the channell obtayned that is nauigable, wherein I delight to accomplish your request, and to write your desire: although it be true, that I knowe not, if my iudgement shall haue so delicate a vayne, and my pen so good a grace, in giuing counsell, as in reprehending. For there be many that in giuing counsell be very cold, but in speaking malicious taunts very skilfull. Sir, I will doe my indeuour to do and say the best I can, with an admonition that I gyue before all things vnto him that shall heare or reade the same, that he prepare, not to take so greate a tast in reading these counsels, as profit by vsing them.

The olde men of your age, they oughte to be so aduised in that they speake, and such examplers of that they do, that not only they are not to be séene to do euill works, either so much

as to speake vnhonest words. For the olde man that is abso∣lute and dissolute: is sufficiēt to corrupt or cast away a whole Towne or common wealth. The old men of your age:* 1.283 ought to giue, not onely good examples, but also good counsell: for the inclination of the yong man is to erre and to varie, and the condition of the old man, ought to be to correct by discre∣tion, and giue good counsell to amende. The old men of youre age: ought to be gentle, modest, and patiēt: for if in times past they were bréeders of discorde, now they ought to be makers of peace. The olde men of youre age ought to be masters of such as know little, and defenders of such as can do little, and if they may not giue them remedie, they leaue not to gyue them comfort. For the hart that is tormented, despited, and in great distresse, sometimes receyueth more comfort with the wordes which they speake, than with that whiche they giue them. The old men of youre age, now haue no time to be oc∣cupied, but in visiting of hospitalles, and reléeuing the poore: for there may not be a thing more iust, than that, so many pa∣ces as haue bin spent to brothel houses, should now be spent to visit Tēples. The old men of your age, ought not to be bu∣sied, but in making their discharges when they be in y^e house, and to bewaile their sinnes when they go to Church: for hée standeth in great suertie of saluation, that in his life doth that he ought to do, and in his death what he can do.

The olde men of youre age ought to vse great measure in the words they speake, and pleasant breuitie in that they re∣count, and also they ought to beware to tell newes, and much lesse to vse to relate fables: for in such a case, if they call yong men light and foolish, they wil say that old men dote and bab∣ble. The old men of your age ought to be remoued from con∣tentions, and from troubles in law, and if it be possible, to re∣déeme them by the waight of money, to the end to be frée from infinite trauells: for yong men onely do feele the trauell, but the old men do féele vexation, and bewaile the displeasure.

The olde men of youre age, ought to haue their communi∣catiō with persons wel complexioned, & not euil conditioned,

with whome they may repose and pleasantly be conuersant: for there is not in this mortall life a thing that doth so recre∣ate the hart: as is swéete conuersation. The old men of youre age ought to séeke men, and chuse honest friends, and muche to consider that the friendes whiche they shall chuse, and the men with whome they shall be conuersant, be not tedious in their spéech,* 1.284 and importunate in crauing: ••or friendship and importunitie neuer féede at one dish, either name themselues to be of one band.

The old men of your age, ought not as nowe to vse vayne and light pastimes, but to haue regarde to the bestowing of their goodes, and to consider for their houses: for the olde man that lookes not to his substance, shall want to eate, and hée that watcheth not his house, shall not lacke wherefore to wéepe. The old men of your age be bound to go cleanly, and well clad, but they haue not licence to be curious, either with nicenesse to weare their garmentes: for in yong men to bée neat, is a good curiositie, but in old men, it is great vanitie.

The olde men of your age ought much to flée brawling with your aduersaries, either trauerse in words with your neigh∣bours: for if they replie any ouerthwart words, or speake any bitter iniury, the hurt is, that you haue a hart to feele it, and not strength to reuenge it. The old men of your age, oughte to be charitable, pitifull, and almes giuers: for yong menne without experience, walke so bedolted of the things of thys world, that it seemeth vnto them sufficiēt to be termed Chri∣stians: but the old men that time hath aduised, and age deliue∣red from disceit, let them hold it for certaine that God of thē will neuer haue pitie,* 1.285 if they haue not charitie. The old men of your age, ought to haue some good Bookes to profite, and o∣ther histories to passe away the time: for as nowe their age doth not suffer to walke, muche lesse to trauell, and as they are forced all day to be idle and pensiue, so is it of more deser∣uing that they fill themselues with reading in bookes: than too be tired in thinking of times past. The old men of youre age ought to auoyde entering into conuocations, sessions, and

Sises: for in such places they intreat not but causes of the cō∣mon wealth, and interest for goodes: and that by the iudge∣ment of froward yong men, and men passioned, where they neuer beléeue the wise, either heare the olde of experience. The olde men of your age, when you shall be in counsell, or called to counsell, ought not to be rash, ianglers, or contenti∣ous: for it apertayneth to yong men to folow their opinion, & the old men but only reason. The olde men of your age,* 1.286 ought to be sober, pacient, and chast, and to presume more to be na∣med vertuous than old: for in these times, and also in time past, they haue more respect to the life he leadeth, than to the hoare heares he weareth. The olde men of your age, ought to hold for their chiefe exercise, to go euery day to Church, and to heare seruice on the holyday: and if this shall séeme painefull or tedious, I giue him licence to go no ofter to Church being old, than he went to visite his innamored when he was yong. The olde men of your age, ought to haue all things well pro∣uided for their soules, to vnderstād also for the health of their persons: for as Galene sayth, old age is so monstrous in condi∣tion, that it is neither a sicknesse finished, or a perfect health. The old men of your age, before all thinges ought to procure their houses good and healthy, scituate in a gladsome & sound ayre: for I am of opinion, that there is no goodes better im∣ployed, than that whiche old men bestowe vpon a good house. The old men of your age, ought to procure, not only to dwell in a good house, but also to sléepe in a good chamber,* 1.287 in a bedde very clenly, and the chamber very close: for as the old man is delicate and of smal strength, so be is more offended by a little ayre that cōmes in at a chinke, thā the cold of one whole win∣ter night did gréeue him when he was yong. The old men of your age, ought very much to procure to eate good bread, and to drinke good wine, and the bread that is well baked, and the wine that is a yeare old: for as old age is compassed with in∣firmities, and laden with sadnesse, the good vituals shall hold them in health, and the good wine shall leade them in mirth.* 1.288 The old men of your age, ought much to consider that theyr

meales be small, their meate yong and well seasoned: and if they eate much, and of many meates, they euer goe sicke: for notwithstanding they haue money to buy them, they haue not heate to disgest them. The old men of your age, ought too procure their bed curteyned, their Chamber hanged, a meane fire, the chimney without smoke: for the life of olde men con∣sisteth in going clenly, warme, cōtented, and without anger. The old men of your age, ought vtterly to auoide to dwel vp∣pon any riuer, either to do their busines in moist groundes, either to sléepe in ayry places, for olde men being delicate as they are, be like children, and naturally accraised: the ayre shall penetrate their powers, and moystnesse shall enter their bones. The old mē of your age, vpon paine of their life ought to be temperate in their diet, refusing to eate late: for old mē, as they haue their stomacks weake and growen colde, they may not disgest two meales in a day:* 1.289 for the olde man that is vnsatiable and a glutton, vsing the contrary, shall belke much and sléepe little. The olde men of your age, to the ende that they be not sicke, or grow heauie, neyther turne to be grosse, ought a little to refreshe them selues, walke into the fielde, vse some exercise, or be occupied in some facultie: for other∣wise, it might happen them to get a tisick, or a lamenesse in their limmes: in such wise, that it will be hard to fetch breath, and by puffing and blowing giue warning where you walk. The old men of your age ought to haue great care to auoyde all contentious brabbling amongst their seruants, and some∣time to beare with their negligences, to pay their wages, too the ende they go contented: for otherwise they will be negli∣gent in seruice, and very suttle in stealing. For conclusion, the old men of your age ought much to procure to weare their apparell swéete and cleanly:* 1.290 their shirts very well washed: their house neat and wel swept, and their chamber very close, warme, and well smelling. For the olde man whiche presu∣meth to be wise, if he will liue in health, and goe contented, ought to haue his body without life, & his hart without strife. In the end of your letter you write, that hauing left to loue,

sorow leaueth not to vere you, which vseth to folow the ena∣mored: and instantly you desire me to giue you some remedy, or to sende you some comfort: for notwithstanding you haue throwen it out of the house, it leaueth not nowe and then too knocke at the gate.

Sir in this case I remit you to Hermogenes, to Tesiphontes, to Doreatius, to Plutarch, and to Ouid, which spent much time, and wrote many bookes, to giue order in what manner the enamored shoulde loue, and the remedies that for their loue they should vse. Let Ouid write what him pleaseth, & Dorcas say what he thinketh good, but in fine, there is no better reme∣die for loue, than is, neuer to begin to loue:* 1.291 for loue is so euill a beast, that with a thread he suffereth to be taken, but hée will not depart with thrusts of a launce. Let euery man con∣sider what he attempteth, marke what he doth, beholde what he taketh in hand, note whither he dothe enter, and haue re∣garde where he may be taken: for if it were in his handes to set the tables, he is not certaine to win the game. There is in loue after it is begon, infinite shelues, immesurable sloughes, daungerous rockes, and vnknowen whirelpooles, in whych some remaine defaced, others blinded, some besoilde, and also some others vtterly drowned, in such wise, that he that is best deliuered, I accoumpt to be euill deliuered.

Oh how many times did Hercules desire to be deliuered from his loue Mithrida, Menelaus from Dortha, Pyrrhus from Helena, Alcibiades from Dorobella, Demophon from Phillis, Hā∣niball from Sabina, and Marcus Antonius from Cleopatra, from whome they could neuer, not only depart, but also in the end for them, and with them, they were cast away.

In case of loue, let no man trust any man, and much lesse him selfe: for loue is so naturall to man or woman, and the de∣sire to be beloued, that where loue amongst them dothe once cleaue, it is a sore that neuer openeth, and a bond that neuer vnknitteth. Loue is a metall so delicat, & a canker so secret, y^t he planteth not in y^e face where he may be sene, nor in y^e pulse where he may be felte, but in the sorowfull hart where (al∣though

he be sensible) they dare not discouer it. After all this, I say, that the remedie that I giue for loue, is, that they gyue him no place to enter amongst the entrayles, nor giue theyr eyes libertie to behold windowes, or giue eare to bawdes, ei∣ther suffer any trade of Dames to come or goe, & if any come to house, to shut the dores, and not to walke abroade after e∣uening: if with these conditions loue may not altogither bée remedied, at the least it may be eased and amended.

Sir (and my gossip) if you will in all these things profite youre selfe and well consider thereof, you shall be excused of many angers, and also saue much money. For to youre age and my grauitie it is more conuenient to vnderstande of the best wines, than to view the windowes of the enamored. Take for example & chastisement the Licentiat Burgos, your acquainted,* 1.292 and my great friend, which being old (and ena∣mored as you) died this saterday, a death so straunge and fud∣dayne, as was fearefull to al men, and sorowfull to his friēds. No more, but our Lord be youre guide, and giue me grace too serue him.

From Burgos the .24. of Febr. 1523.

A letter vnto Sir Iames of Gueuara, vncle to the Au∣thor, wherein he doth comfort him, for that he hath bin sicke.

MAgnificent and right honorable Vncle, it pleaseth your Honor to complaine of mée in youre letter, that I neither serue you as my good Lorde, either do sue as vnto a father, or visite as an vncle, neyther write as vntoo a friende. I may not denie, but as concerning kinred your are my Fathers brother,* 1.293 in merit my good Lord, my father in curtesie, and my Progenitor in giuing of libe∣rall rewards, which I haue receiued at your hands: not as a nephew, but as a sonne much beloued.

Since I haue confessed the affinitie that I hold, and affirme the dette that I do owe, no more will I denie the fault that I

haue committed in neglecting my dutie in visiting and wri∣ting vnto you:* 1.294 for with our friendes we ought to accomplishe vntill we may doe no more, and spende vntill we haue no more: let it auayle what it may auayle, and my excuse serue, what it may serue. The very troth is, that I go in this court with myne offices so occupied, and so bewandred in my busi∣nes, that scarsely I knowe any man, neither yet remember my selfe: and this which (I say) is not so muche to excuse my fault, as it is to accuse my liuing. For in the time when I was aliue, and abode in my monastery, I did rise earely to go to Church, I studied my bookes, preached my sermons, fasted the aduents, performed my disciplines, bewailed my sinnes, and prayed for sinners: in such sort, that euery night I made a reckening of my life, and euery day did renewe my consci∣ence. But afterwards, I died: afterwards they buried me:* 1.295 and afterwards they brought me vnto the Court: I grew negli∣gent in fasting, I brake holy days, I forgot my disciplines, I dyd no almes, I prayed with negligence, I preached sil∣dome, I spake at large, I suffred little, I celebrated wyth dulnesse, I presumed much, and ouer much: and the worst of all is, that I gaue my selfe to vnprofitable conuersations, the which lead me vnto some tedious passions, and also affectiōs to be auoyded. Beholde here my Lorde and Vncle, after what manner we goe in Court, neither know we kindred, or speake to friends, neither be sensible of the mischiefe, or pro∣fit vs of the time, neyther do we séeke rest, or haue any wit: but wandring here and there, we goe as certaine men bedol∣ted and charged with a thousand thoughts.

But setting this apart, since in time to come there shal be amends, and for that which is past I may obtaine pardon, I shall promise you by the faith of an honest nephew, that the court hauing passed these ports, I shall come to visit you, and wil write by euery messēger. Sir Ladron your sonne and my cosin willed me (here in Madrid) that I shoulde write vnto you, the sorow which I conceyued of the sicknesse your Lord∣ship hath had, and the long diseases you haue passed. The ex∣cesse

you vsed, is grief vnto mée: the ague that held you, sor∣roweth me: the sorowes you haue paste, displeaseth me: the syropes you receyued, irketh mée: the purgations you v∣sed, lothed me: the oyntmentes you experimented, despiteth me: the bathes you proued, are tedious, and tormenteth mée: the lauatories you tasted, payneth me: the money you wasted, vexeth me: bycause the sicke man, consideryng the goodes he expended, and the little that medicines haue profi∣ted, many tymes it dothe more gréeue hym, that he giueth to the Physition and Apoticarye, than the maladie whiche hée suffered.

Behold here my Lorde, howe I am not a man that giueth one sorowe, but an hundreth if néed bée: although it be true, that a thousand tymes it soroweth me, is not so much worth as one it pleaseth me. Licurgus in the lawes that he gaue to the Lacedemonians, did commaund, that no man should bring euill newes to any man, but that the pacient should diuine it, or by discourse of tyme, he shoulde vnderstande it. The di∣uine Plato in the bookes of his common wealth, did counsell the Athenians that they should not visite any of their neygh∣bours in tyme of aduersitie, except they coulde by some mea∣nes remedie them. For (he sayd) and sayd well, that colde and vnsauorie is that comfort, when it commeth not be wrapt in some remedie. Of a trouth, to remedie and giue counsell bée two distinct offices, & very seldome conteyned in one person: for counsel is to be giuē by the wife, & the remedy by him that possesseth the same. My Lord & vncle, I would God, that your remedie were in my hands (as it is to desire it) that I myght rather say, It pleaseth me of your helth, than that it soroweth me of your sicknes. Sir, you haue to vnderstand, I beare you much enuie: not of Paradilla, where you dwel, not to the newe plāted vineyard which you possesse, or to the mil y^t you make, either to the nintie yeares that you possesse, but of the order that you vse in your house: for that in nurtour it is a palace, and in honest ciuilitie,* 1.296 a Colledge.

Cato the iudge, in his old age did withdrawe himselfe to a

countrey house, which stoode betwixt Nola, and Caieta, & all the Romanes that past thereby did say, iste solus scit viuere: whiche is to vnderstand, this man knoweth to liue by himself, wherfore they reported that he had withdrawn himself thither in time, and sequestred himselfe from the hurly burly of the worlde. The greatest mercy that God vseth to an old man is to giue him to vnderstand, that he is become old: for if he know this of himself, of a trouth he shal fynd that the olde man hath not of any thing more certaintie, than euery day to look for death. Plato saide: Iuuenes citò moriuntur, senes autē diu viuere nō possunt, y^t is to say, it is true that yong men die quickly, but the old men can not liue long. The stéele being spente, the knife may not cut: the talow consumed, the candle goeth out: the Sunne being set, the day can not tarie: the floure being fallen, ther is no hope of fruite. By that which is sayd, I would say, y^t after an olde man is past foure score yeres, he ought to make more readinesse to die, thā prouisiōs to liue. Diodorus Siculus sayth, that it was a lawe amongst the Aegyptians, that no king, after he had children, either any old man hauing passed thréescore yeares, shoulde presume to buylde an house, without first for himselfe he had made a sepulcher. My Lord, thus much I say, that not as an Aegyptian, but as a good Christian, you haue in the Monastery of Cuenca, made a sepulture, and indued a cha∣pell, where your bones shall rest, and whereof your kynred may boaste.

Peter of Reynosa (your neyghbour, and my greate friende) hathe aduertised mée, that in the pleasant Peradilla, the storm hath spoyled youre wheate, and that in lowe places the vi∣nes be blasted, with which lamentable and straunge chaunce (although you féele much grief) your lordship must shewe good courage, and haue great pacience: for that you now stande in suche an age, as you shall rather wante yeares to lyue, than corne to eate. Those that ingrosse wynes to make it deare, & kéepe their corne against the moneth of May, vpon such men, heauinesse ought to fall, and vpon suche losse is wel employd:

for there is nothing so méete, eyther more iust, than the man that wisheth an euill yeare to the common wealth, shoulde neuer sée a good yeare enter his owne house.

It is a propertie of such as be muche couetous, and little vertuous to murmure at that which nature doth performe, and God doth permit, in such sort that they will rather amēd God, than correct themselues. Let houses fal, the vines be bla∣sted, the stormes spoile corne, the flocks die, and rent gathe∣rers run away: if we giue thanks to God for that he leaueth vs, if we do not murmur for that he taketh away, if we grow not dul to serue him, he will neuer grow negligent to giue vs prouision. They say vnto me that your Lordship is vexed, sorowfull, and also vntractable: these are priuileges of olde menne, but not of wise olde men: for it shoulde be a muche greater losse to haue the wit blasted, thā the Corne destroied. Vncle you know very well, that in all the the markets of Vilada, & Palencia we shal find bread to be sold, but in none of the fai∣res of Medina, shal we find wisdome to be bought: For which cause men ought to giue more thanks vnto God, for that hée did create them wise, than for that he made them rich. It is a more sounde welthinesse for a man to estéeme himselfe wise, than to presume to be of great wealth: for with wisdom they obtaine to haue, but with hauing they come to lose thē∣selues. The office of humanitie is to féele trauells, and the office of reason is, to dissemble them. For when sodaine as∣saultes come vpon vs, and infortunes knocke at our gates, if the hart should receiue them all and of euery one complaine and bewayle: he should euer haue wherof to recount, and ne∣uer want wherfore to lament.

* 1.297Prometheus that gaue laws to the Aegiptians, said, that the Philosopher should not wepe for any thing, but for the losse of his friend: for all other things are contained in our chestes, onely the friend dwelleth in the hart. If Prometheus did not permit to shew any griefe but for a friende, it is not credible that he would wéepe for the corne in the field, wherin he had greate reason: for notwithstandyng that the losse of tem∣porall

good is, wherewith we be moste grieued: yet on the o∣ther part, it is that wherein our losse is least. Séeing the in∣certayntie of this lyfe, and the continuall chaunges that be in the same, as little suretie men haue thereof, that be in their houses, as the corne that is in the field. I dare say that wée haue very little wherin to trust, and many things wher∣of to be afrayd. It is not vnknowen to your Lordship, that in this lyfe there is nothyng sure, since wée sée the corne bla∣sted, trées striken downe, floures fall, woodde wormeaten, cloath deuoured with moathes, cattell doe ende, and menne doe dye: and that all thynges well marked, in the ende all thyngs haue an ende. Men that haue passed thrée score yea∣res, haue for their priuiledge, to sée in their houses great mis∣fortunes, whiche is to witte, absence of friendes, deathe of children, losse of goodes, infirmities in their persones, pesti∣lences in the common wealth, and manye nouelties in For∣tune: and for thys cause Plinie durste saye, that men ought not to bée borne, if that he being borne foorthwith should die.* 1.298 Oh howe well sayde the diuine Plato, that men oughte not to be carefull to liue long, but to lyue well. I thought good thus muche to write vnto you, to the ende you shoulde vn∣derstande to profite your selfe by olde age, since you had skil to enioye the dayes of youth: for in the age of fourescore yea∣res, it is a tyme to make small accounte of lyfe, and to vse great skill and no small reckening of death.

All these thinges I haue written vnto your Lordshippe, and my good vncle, not for that you haue néede, but bicause you shall haue wherein to reade, and also to the ende you shall vnderstande, that (although I go bescattered and wan∣dring in thys Court,) I doe not leaue to reknowledge the good. No more, but that our Lorde be your protectour.

From Madrid the eleuenth of Marche. 1533.

A letter vnto Master Gonsalis Gil, in which is expounded that which is sayd in the Psalmist, Inclinaui cor meum ad faciendas iustificationes tuas in aeternum.

RIght reuerend and eloquent Doctor, ad ea quae mihi scripsisti quid tibi sim respō∣surus ignoro: although I saye that to so many things I know not to answer, I should haue sayd better, that I dare not to wright. For the affaires of our common wealth, are come to that e∣state, that though we be bound to féele them, we haue no licence to reporte them. It is too gréeuous in our humanitie to suffer iniuries, but it is much more gréeuouse vnto the hart to kéepe them se∣cret,* 1.299 and not to vtter them: for the remedie of the sorowfull hart is, to discouer his poyson, and to vnburden where he lo∣ueth. He deserueth much, and can do very much, that hathe a hart to féele things as a man, and dissembleth them as discret. For he is of a greater courage that forgettes the sorowe that once entreth into the hart, than he which reuengeth it. If my memorie should reueale what it doth retaine, my tong speake what it doth knowe, and my pen write what me listeth, I am sure those that be present would maruell, and suche as be ab∣sent, would growe offended: for nowe burneth the pearcher without tallow, and at randon all goeth to the bottom. The armie of gentlemen be here in Medina del ryo secco, and they of the communaltie in Villa Braxima, in suche wise, that too the one we desire victory, and of the other we haue compassion. For the one be our good Lords, and the others our good friēds: I desire that the part of the gentlemen may ouercome: and it grieueth me to sée the deathe and fall of the poore: chiefly for that they know not what they aske, either vnderstand what they do. If the trauell of the warre, and the perill of the bat∣tel might light vpō their shoulders, that were inuenters ther∣of, and that haue altered the people, it shoulde be tollerable too sée, and iust to suffer: but alas the sorow, they fight in safetie,

and chase the bull in great suretie: wée haue the monasterie full of souldiors, and the Celles occupied with knights: wher∣in, there is no place for a man to withdrawe, eyther a quiet houre to studie: In such wyse, that if my Bookes be scattred, also my wits be wandring. What quietnesse or contentati∣on will you that I haue, séeing the king is oute of his king∣dome, the commons rebell, the counsell fled, the Gentlemen persecuted, the townes men altered, the gouernours astoni∣ed, and the people sacked, euery houre entreth men of warre, euery houre they make alarums, euery houre they sound to battell, euery houre they ordeine ambushes, euery hour there is skirmishes, euery houre they intende repayres, and also euery houre I sée them bring men wounded. The Cardinal and the gouernours commaunde me to preache and instructe them in the affaires of peace, that which I can say, is euery thirde day I goe from one campe to an other, and they of the cōmonaltie will not beléeue me, neither will be conuerted: in suche wise that they haue the voyce of Iacob, and the handes of Esau. In this ciuil warre, I heare them say from thence so many things, that it displeaseth me, and I see héere so many things that discontenteth me, Quod posui custodiam ori meo, vt nō delinquam in lingua mea. If they meete there with my letters, or yours should be séene here, eyther for not vnderstanding, or by euill interpreting, it might be, I should incurre some daunger, and you discredite. Ignosce mi domine, tum breuitate lite∣rarum, tum etiam quòd non liceat hic nostra tempestate apertius loqui.

The Authour dothe expounde an authoritie of the Prophete.

THis other daye (whyche was the feaste of Saincte Thomas) when I preached vnto the Gouernoures, you doe say in your let∣ter that you hearde mée expounde that Texte of the Prophete, whyche sayeth: Inclinaui cor meum ad faciendas Iustificationes

tuas in aelernum proptet tribulationem: and you desire me to send it you in writing, in suche forme & maner as I did pronoūce it in the pulpet. Sir I will performe it (although I vse it not) for that I wishe you well, and am also beholding vnto you. For the friend vnto his friende, shoulde neither hyde secrete that hée knoweth,* 1.300 or denye anye thing that he possesseth. But coming to the purpose, it is a thing to be noted, & no lesse to be maruelled, that the Prophet wold bind himself to serue God for euermore without end, knowing that she should die, and haue an ende. For the vnderstanding of this text of Da∣uid, it is necessarie to expounde that of Christe, which saith, Ibunt in supplicium, boni autem in vitam aeternam: bicause the one authoritie béeing expounded, the other is easyly vnderstan∣ded. Christ being as hée is, the whole truth and the summe of Iustice, it séemeth a thyng disproporcioned to giue vnto the good, infinite glorie for temporall merites, and to giue vnto the euill eternall paine, for temporall faultes: Since he com∣maundeth in the Apocalips, that by the weight of their deme∣rites the wicked should be tormented. If it were not diuine iudgement, it would séeme in the opinion of man, to be a iust thing they shoulde giue vnto the iust that serued God an hun∣dreth yeares in this worlde, so muche more of glorie in the o∣ther worlde: and to the wicked that offended fiftie yeares, be∣ing aliue here in this world, they shuld torment him as many more in hell: In such sort that there the payne should be gi∣uen by weyght, and the glorie by measure. In that God gi∣ueth not temporal reward, for temporall seruice, neither doth giue temporall payne for temporall offences: there séemeth and ought to be in this case some high misterie, which if it bée facile to demaunde, is verie difficile to absolue. For the vn∣derstanding hereof, it is to wit, that the paine they haue to giue vs in the other world, and the rewarde we shall receyue in the glorie, is not answerable to the many or fewe workes which wée do, but vnto the much or little charitie wherewith we worke them: for God dothe not beholde what wée doe presently, but what we would do. It may be that a man may

deserue much with little workes: and another merite little passing many trauels, for our desertes consist not in the tra∣uels we do passe, but in the pacience we vse therein.

Not without a high and very notable misterie Christ sayd (in your patience,) and said not (in your labour) you shall pos∣sesse your soules. For as Austine sayth,* 1.301 the paine makes not the Martyr, but the cause wherefore he suffreth. Answering to your demaund and to my dout, I do say and affirme: that for this cause, in the other world they shall giue eternall re∣ward vnto the good: for if God should let them liue for euer and euer, they would neuer cease to serue God. In like man∣ner they shal giue vnto the wicked infinite paine, their sinnes being infinite, for if God for euermore shoulde giue them life here in this world, they would neuer cease to offend him. The Prophet to say, inclinaui cor meum in aeternum, is as if he shoulde say, I Lorde do bind my selfe to serue thée, so muche as shall please thée to be serued of me. In that if it shall please thée to perpetuat my life, it shall be always imployed in thy seruice, what wilt thou that I say more, (oh my God,) but if it shall please thée, and may be to thy seruice, that my dayes be tem∣porall, that at the least my good desires may be infinite, quia in aeternum inclinaui cor meum. Oh with how greate desire ought we to serue God, and how great hope ought we to haue of our saluation, for that we haue a Lord of so good condition, and a God of suche power, that without any scruple we maye set downe in his accompt, not only what we doe, but also what we desire to do. No more but that our Lord be your protector.

From Medina del rio secco the xxij. of Ianuary. 1523.

A letter vnto the Abbot of saint Peter of Cardenia, in which he much prayseth the mountaine countrey.

REuerent Abbot and monasticall Religious, Regi secu∣lorum immortali sit gloria, quia te ex litteris tuis bene valere audio, & ipse bene habeo. The health of the body at all times ought to be much estéemed, & muche more in this pre∣sent

yeare: for we haue warre within the house, and pestilēce is calling at dore. I haue not sayd much in saying that the pe∣stilence calleth at the doore, since Auila is infected, Madrigal de∣populate, Medina escandalized, Valiodolid in great feare, and Duennas mourning.

As touching the rest I giue your fatherhood many thankes for Ochams Dialogues that you lent me. And I gyue you no lesse for your poudred meat you sent me; and as I was borne in the Astuaries of Sintillana, and not in the costs of Cordoua, you coulde haue sent me nothing more acceptable than that salt flesh: in suche sorte, quod cognouisti cogitationes meas de longe. From Asia vnto Rome, the fayre Cleopatra sent vnto hir good friend Marcus Antonius a poudred Crane,* 1.302 whiche he so estee∣med, that he eat euery day onely one morsell of that poudred meate. From Illiria (in the Confines of Panonia) they brought presēted vnto the Emperour Augustus sixe salted Lampreys, whiche meate was so newe a thing in Rome, that hee onely eate but one, and deuided the other fiue amongst the Sena∣tors and Embassadours. Macrobius in his Saturnals recoun∣ting, or to say better, reprehending Lucullus the Romane of a solemne and costly supper that he made to certaine Embas∣sadours of Asia, he sayth amongst other things they did eate, a Gripe in potage, and a Goose in pickle. In a certain inuectiue that Crispus Salust maketh againste his aduersarie Cicero, a∣mongst the most graue thinges that he dothe accuse him, is, that he caused to bée broughte to satisfie his wanton excesse, poudred meates from Sardinia,* 1.303 and wines from Spaine. The diuine Plato when he went to sée Dionisius the tyrant, was not of any thing in him so much offended, as he was to sée him eate two times a day, and to drinke the better he did eate salt flesh. There past much time in Rome, in which although they did eate fleshe newly poudred, they not yet know to make a brine. But as times gosh euery day discouering more things, & the industry of mā goeth more sharpned, it is come to passe y^t the pickle, brine, & poudred meats y^t was foūd out most de∣licate for kings: at this presēt the rustical be glutted withal.

For better seasoned and also more swéete & delectable I hold the poudred meats of the mountaine, than those of Castile for in y^e mountains herbs be more delicate, y^e waters more pure, the countrey more cold, the beasts more sound, and the ayre more subtill. That the mountaine is a better countrey than Castile, it appeareth most cleare, in that the wines that goeth from hence thither be more fine, and the men that commeth from thence hyther bée conuerted more malicious, in suche wise, that wines be there made better, and here men made worse.

I like very well of that Iames Lopes of Haro was wont too say, that for one to proue a perfect man, he ought to bée borne in the mountaine, and transferred into Castile: but I am sory that vnto my countrey men there cleaueth few curtesies and lesse good manners that we haue there, and very much malice that we vse here. When we demaunde of a neighbour of the confines of Cordoua, of Zocodouer, of Toledo, of Valiodolid, or of Segouia, in what countrey he was borne, incontinent he as∣sureth (it is true) that he was borne in that countrey, but hys grandfather came from the mountaine, in such wise that at y^e instant they wil be Castilians, & in linage they wil be Biscains.

If Roger of Toledo do not deceiue vs, seuen Nations had the dominion of nine prouinces of Spaine, which is to wit, the Greekes of Carpentania, the Vandales of Andolosia, the Zuitsers of Carthagene, the Alaians of Galisia, the Hunes of Arragonia,* 1.304 the Gothes of Lucitania, and the Romanes of Pirenea. But of all the nine Nations we reade of none that did passe the rocke of Ordunia, neither durst approch the rocke of Horadaida. To vs that be Montanezes the Castilians cannot denie, that when Spaine was surprised by the Moores, the greatest & chiefest men were not saued only in the mountaines, and that after∣wards all the nobles haue not discended from thence. The good Inigo Lopos of Santillana did vse to saye, that in this oure Spaine that linage was a stranger or very new, y^t in y^e moun∣taines was not possessed of some notable Mannor. Father Abbot I thought good to saye all this, to the ende you shall sée

how much I do estéeme that which you sent me: the one, for that it was poudred, and the other for that it was seasoned in my countrey. It is no noueltie that the poudred meates of my countrey do like me well, since the Emperour Seuerus dyd neuer weare shirt but of the flax of Africa which was his na∣turall countrey.

Of Aurelius the Emperor, his chroniclers do recount that he saide many times, that all meates that we eate of other countries, we eate them with appetite, but those that bee of our owne countrey we eate them with loue and also wyth appetite. As concerning the rest that youre Fatherhood dyd write and incommend vnto me, frier Benet your subiect and my friend, may say what I did speake therein vnto his Ma∣iestie, and what he aunswered me, whiche presently was dis∣patched. No more, but that the grace Dei nostri Iesu Christi sit tecum & mecum.

From Madrid, the twelfth day of March, An∣no Domini .1522.

A letter vnto Doctor Manso, present of Valiodolid, in which is declared, that in the affaires of an other, a man may be importunate.

RIght magnificent and most reuerent Imperiall Iudge, quanto timore ad vos scribam, nouit ipse quem timemus in vobis, with much feare and no smal shame, I write this letter vnto your Lord∣ship, bycause euery day I haue bene with my letters so importunate, that I deserue to be holden importune and tedious. Beléeue me sir, that it is a straunge thing vnto me to goe to importune, or yet to be im∣portuned:* 1.305 for the man that is importune, I holde him for the brother of a foole. The suter that is patient, silent, and maner∣ly, we take pleasure to heare him, answer him, and dispatche him: on the other side, to him that is troublesome, ouersharp,

entermedling, and importunate, we shut the dores againste him, we cut off his taile, we turne away our face, and also wee giue him betwixt the téeth (you are come in an euill houre.)

Cicero in his booke of Friendship, sayth, that in the affaires that toucheth but our selues, we ought only to make sute, but for such as concerne our neare friends, we ought to intreate, and may be importune. In folowing sutes, there is muche to be considered: what the suter is, to whome he maketh sute, and wherefore he maketh sute, and also in what time he su∣eth: bycause to dispatch a thing out of time, is to cut the pe∣cocke by the knées. There are affaires of suche qualitie, that only to speake in them were shamefull, and yet if they bée procured for others, it is great charitie. The thing that Alex∣ander the great most praysed in the great philosopher Caliste∣nes, was, that for others he craued many things, and for him∣selfe nothing. Iulius Caesar and Cicero were mortall enemies, but in the ende, on a certaine day in the Senate, Iulius Caesar sayd vnto Cicero, I cannot denie this (Oh Cicero) but that in the thinges that touche thy selfe, thou art remisse, and in matters that concerne the common wealth, very importune.

There was a Law amongst the Romaines much vsed and also obserued, that vpon paine of death none shoulde presume to approch the tent, where the Emperour did eate and sléepe, except such as did serue him by day and guard him by night, but the case was thus. The Emperour Aurelius being in warres in Asia against Cenobia, in the night a certaine Greeke seruitor entred the Emperours tent,* 1.306 whiche being taken and presently condemned to die, the Emperour Aurelius from hys bed where he lay spake with a loude voyce, if this man dyd come to sue for any thing for himselfe, let him die: and if hée came to sue for another, let him liue, and for certaine it was found, that the poore man came to make sute for his thrée companions that had slepte being of the watch, whiche the Captaine commaunded to be whipt and to be deliuered to the enemies. Oh example to be noted, and to memorie to bée in∣commended, for that out of one selfe chance and misfortune,

the soldiour obtayned life, the companions escaped distresse and shame, and the good Prince enioyed the renoume of cle∣mencie. I thought good to alledge these old examples, to ad∣uise such as you that be supreme Iudges, and constituted in high estates, to the ende that if you will not doe all that wée craue, at the least you will not chide vs when we be suters vnto you: bycause, that bond that holdeth the Iudge to be iust in that he iudgeth, the very same doth bind the good to be im∣portune when he sueth for another. The office of the good mā is to pray and be importunate, not only for the good, but also for the euill: it is to wit, for the good that they maye be made better, and for the euill that they pardon them. Since there is no lawe in this worlde so rigorous, that in good or in euill part may not be interpreted, the Iudges haue to presuppose we do not desire them to breake their lawes, but that they do but moderate them: for many times the suter doth complaine, not of the sentence of condemnation, but of the desire that the iudge did shew to condemne him In the iudge it is not onely a vice intolerable to condiscend to all that which they craue, but also a great extremitie to doe nothing of that they desire: the good Iudge ought to be alwayes iust in that he giueth sen∣tence, and in that they desire him sometime humaine. When the Consull Ascanius did boast himselfe that in the office of Censor or iudge, he had neuer admittted, either so muche as heard the requests of his friends.* 1.307 The good Censor Cato sayd vnto him on a certain day in the Senat, the offence standeth not (oh Ascanius) in that the Iudge suffreth himselfe to be sued vnto, but to consent himselfe of any man to be commaunded. Not of few, but of many Iudges we maye iustly saye, that which they do not at the intreatance of a gentleman, they doe afterwards by the Counsell of their priuat friend. I do lie if I did not intreat a Iudges wife to cause him to cōsider of a plée of a friend of mine, whiche aunswered me, Intreat? what think not Master Gueuara, that my husband hath a wife that must intreat, but commaund: And so it came to passe (as she said) for that which could not be obtained in halfe a yeare, she

dispatched in one night. In the bookes of common wealth, Plu∣tarch doth aduise Traiane, that since in humane lawes there be more things arbitrable than forceable, he should aduise his Iudges, to approch more vnto reason than opinion. The vn∣bridled Iudges that naturally be seuere and vntractable, it is impossible but that they must be odious vnto all men, and for this cause I thinke it very méete, that one by one they shoulde heare all men with curtesie, and afterwards determine what they shall finde by Iustice. Many Iustices do holde it for ad∣uauncement of honour to heare their suters with an euill will, and not to doe anye thing wherein they bée intreated: which they do not, bycause they be iust in their offices, but for that of their nature they be euill condicioned.

The good Iudge ought not to wrest the lawes to his con∣dicion, but wrest his condicion conformable vnto the lawes:* 1.308 for otherwise it should not be expedient to séeke iust Iudges, but men well cōdicioned: but in somuche as God was intrea∣ted of those of Niniuie that w••re condemned, of Ezechias that was anoynted, of Dauid that offended in adultery, of Achab that committed Idolatry, of Iosua that did not ouercome, of Anna that was barraine,* 1.309 and of Susan that falsely was accu∣sed: surely it is not much that men do suffer them selues to bée intreated of other men. I thought good my Lord president too write all these things, not to teach you them, but to remem∣ber you of them. The Abbot of saint Isidro is of my acquain∣tance and great friend, for we were brought vp in pallace to∣gether, and were fellowes of one Colledge, in suche wise that we be bretherne, not in armes, but in letters: and now of late there hath bin proces againste him to appeare in this youre audience, for which he would present him selfe before youre presence, and in his way take a letter of mine, by which I do much desire your Lordship that the Father Abbot and hys Monks: Sentiant si placet, quod non sit amor ociosus, siue vester ad nos, siue nostrum ad illos, salua tamen in omnibus iusticia, contra quam noque patrem respicere fas est.

From Toledo the xx of August. 1532.

A letter vnto the Earle of Beneuent sir Alonso Pimentell, wherein is intreated the order and rule holden by the auncient Knights of the band.

RIght renowmed, and greatest Earle of Spaine, most acceptable to my hart was the letter you did write vnto me (by the Commendathor A∣quilera) bycause there was not in these King∣domes, Lorde nor Prelate, that had not writ∣ten vnto me, and to whome I had not writtē againe, (except your honour, & my Lorde the Earle of Cabra,) but since we haue passed the port, and that the gulfe is naui∣gable, the way tracked, and I come to youre acquaintance: knowing the sinceritie of your bloud, the generositie of youre persone, the authoritie of your house, and the fame of your re∣nowme: I will not leaue from hence forward to request you, neither will I be negligent to write vnto you. With some Lords and gentlemen I hold aquaintance,* 1.310 with others kin∣red and affinitie, with other friendship, with others couer∣sation: but to other some I refuse communication, and flye their condition: for in wit they be doltishe, and in their cōmu∣nication very tedious. It is more painefull to suffer a tedi∣ous Lord or Gentleman, than a foolish ploughman: for the in∣considerate Gentleman will make you raue, and the doltish ploughman prouokes you to laugh: and farther (and besides this) the one you may commaunde to holde his peace, and the other you must suffer vntill he haue made an end: but youre Lordship is of so good stuffe, and come of so right a Turquois, and so delicate of iudgement, that there may be no place in my conceit, but that from hence forward I wil boast my selfe of your conuersation, and ioy my selfe of your condition. Your Lordship dothe commaunde me to write vnto you (if I haue read in any auncient writing) who were the knights of the Band in Spaine. Also you woulde vnderstande, in the time of what prince this order was established, who was the inuen∣tour thereof, why he deuised the same, what rules he gaue

them to liue with, how long it lasted and wherefore it was lost: although I were some suspitious witnesse, and youre Lordship were iudge Ronquillo, you could not take my depo∣sition by interrogatories more delicatly.* 1.311 I sweare by the law of a good man, that if mine answer be so accomplished, as your demaund is exquisit, your honour shall be satisfied, and I not a litle tired. After I did sée the stately buildings that you haue made at Valiodolid I did more boast you for a good builder thā for a curious reader, and therefore I do much delight in that you demaund and write vnto me, for that to the good Knight it is as pertinent to haue a booke vnder his pillow, as a sword at his beds head.

The greate Iulius Caesar, in the mids of his campes, had his Commentaries in his bosome, his launce in his left hand,* 1.312 and his pen in the right hand: in suche wise, that all the time that was frée from fighting, he spent in reading and writing. The great Alexander, that onely with feare did subdue the West, and with armes did conquere the East, he was alwayes girt with Achilles sworde, and with the Iliades of Homer did al∣wayes sléepe in his Chamber. It is not my opinion that you should take writing and reading for your principall office (as I that am bound to studie) but the tenth houre you spende in talke and loose in play, you should employ and spend in rea∣ding. But comming to the purpose, it is to witte, that in the yere M.CCC.lxviij. the King Sir Alonso being in the Citie of Burgos, that was the sonne of King Sir Hernando, and of the Quéene the Lady Constance: This good King made a certaine new order of Knighthood, which he entituled the Order of the band, wherein he himselfe with his children, hys bretherne, and the sonnes of the most riche and noble Knightes of the realme did enter. Four yeares after he had ordayned thys order of the band, the king Sir Alonso being in Palentia, refor∣med the rules which he had made, and also added punishmēts for the transgressors of the same: in such wise, that agréeable to the last rule, which was the better and more Knightlike, I will write this letter vnto your Honor: They were named

Knightes of the bande,* 1.313 bycause they dyd weare vpon them a certayne redde skarffe thrée fingers broade, after the ma∣ner of a stoale, cast vppon the lefte shoulder, and knit vnder the right arme. None coulde giue the bande but onely the Kyng, eyther any myghte receyue the same, except he were the sonne of a Knight, or the son of some notable Gentle∣man, & that at the least had bene resident at the Court ten ye∣res or in the warres against the Moores had serued the King.

In thys order of the bande, the eldest sonnes of knigh∣tes that were inheritours coulde not enter, but suche as were second or thirde sonnes, and that had no patrimonie, for the intention of the good Kyng (Sir Alonso) was, to honoure the sonnes of the worshipfull of his Courte, that coulde doe and had but little. That daye whiche they receyued the band, they dyd present into the Kings hande faithe and homage to obserue the rule, and I saye they made not any strayt vow, or rigorous othe, bycause if afterwardes any shoulde trans∣gresse some parte of the rule, they shoulde bee subiecte to the chastisement, but not bounde to the sinne.

HIs firste rule commaunded, that the Knight of the bande was bounde to speake vnto the Kyng (béeing required) for the aduauncemente of his Countrey,* 1.314 and for the defence of the Common wealth, vpon payne that béeing noted ther∣of, he should be depriued of his patrimonie, and banished out of his countrey.

2 His rule commanded, that the knight of the band aboue all thinges shoulde speake trouth vnto the kyng, vnto hys Crowne and person shoulde obserue fidelitie: And if anye in hys presence shoulde murmure of the kyng, and he should not disco uer it, and béeing approued with infamie, he shoulde bée turned oute of Courte, and for euermore depryued of the bande.

3 His rule commaunded, that all those of that order shuld vse muche silence, and that whyche they spake, should be of great trouth: and if by chaunce any knight of the band shuld tell any notable lie, he shuld go one month without his sword.

4 His rule commaunded, that they shoulde accompanie themselues with wise men, of whome they myghte learne to lyue well, and with men of warre that might teach them to fight, vpon paine that the knight of the band which should suffer himselfe to be accompanied, or be séene to walke with marchants, men of occupations, Lawyers, or with men of the countrey, shoulde be grieuously reprehended of the mai∣ster: and one whole moneth in his chamber imprisoned.

5 His rule commaunded,* 1.315 that all the knights of this order should maynteyne their words, and kéepe fidelitie vnto their friendes, and in case it were proued agaynste any knighte of the bande, that he had not accomplished his word (although it were giuen vnto a base person, and vpon a small matter, yet) suche a one shoulde goe alone in courte and vnaccompanied, not presuming to speake, or to approche or kéepe companie with any knight.

6 His rule commanded, that the knight of the band should be bounde to haue good armour in his chamber, good horsses in his stable, a good launce at his gate, and a good sworde at his girdle: vpon paine that if in any of these things he were de∣fectiue, they shoulde call him (in Court) by the space of a mo∣neth, seruant, and should lose the name of knight.

7 His rule did commaund, that no knight of the band shold presume to ryde to the Court on a mule, but on horsebacke, eyther openly should dare to goe withoute his bande, eyther should take vpon him to go to Court without his sworde, or venture at his lodging to eate alone: vpon pain to pay a mark of Siluer towards the iustes.

8 His rule commaunded, that no knight of the band should be serued with a lyer, eyther boast himself like a babler, vpon pain y^t if any of thē shuld put himself in palace to tel newes or tales, or to make to the king any false report, he should goe to court one month on foot, & arested an other into his chamber.

9 His rule commaunded that no knight of the band shuld complain of any wound that he had receyued, eyther shoulde boast himself of any déed he had don, vpon paine if he so repor∣ted

of his sore, or shoulde relate many tymes of his prowes, he should of the maister be gréeuously reprehended, and of the other knightes of the band not visited.

10 His rule commaunded, that no knight of the band shuld presume to play at any playe, (in especiall at the dice) vpon paine, that if any did play, eyther in his lodging did consent to play, they should take away his moneths wages, and for sixe wéekes banished him the Courte.

11 His rule commaunded, that no knight of the band shuld presume to lay his armour to guage, eyther to play the appa∣rell perteyning to his person at any play that might be deui∣sed, vpon paine that he that should play them away, or laye them to guage, should go two moneths without the band, and an other month remaine prisoner in his lodging.

* 1.31612 His rule commaunded, that the knight of the bande in the wéeke dayes should be apparelled in fine cloth, and on the holy dayes he should weare some kynd of silke, and at Easter some little of golde, and he that shoulde haue nether stockes, and weare buskins, the maister should be bound to take them away, and to make an almes of them to the poore.

13 His rule commanded that if the knight of the band wold to the Palace, or walke to the Court on foote, that he shoulde not goe in great haste, eyther speake with loude voyce, but that he should talke with lowe voyce, and walke at greate leysure, vpon payne that of the other knightes he should bée reprehended, and of the maister chastised.

14 His rule commanded, that no knight of the band shuld presume either in ieste or in earneste, to speake to an other knight any malicious or suspicious wordes, wherof the other knight might remaine shamed or dispited, vpon pain he shuld aske pardon of the iniuried, whiche shoulde giue the offender banishement from the court for thrée monethes.

15 His rule commaunded, that no knight of the band shuld take any quarrell wyth any damsel vnmaried, eyther should rayse anye Lawe to a woman that were the daughter of a

a Gentleman, vpon paine that any suche knighte might not accompany any Gentlewoman in town, eyther dare to serue any dame in pallace.

16 His rule commaunded, that if any knighte of the band should encounter in the stréete with any Lady or Gentlewo∣man that should be generous & of valor, he should be bounde to bring himselfe on foote, and to accompany hir,* 1.317 vpon paine to lose a monethes wages, and shoulde be of the dames not beloued.

17 His rule cōmaunded, that if any noble woman or dam∣sell in hir haire, should desire any knight of the band to do any thing for hir which he coulde do, and shoulde refuse to doe it, that suche a one in Palace the Dames should call: The euil commaunded knight, and voyd of curtesie.

18 His rule commaunded, that no knight of the band shuld dare to eate any vile or grosse meates: which is to wit, Oni∣ons, Garlike, Chibols, nor such like, vpon paine that he that were such a one, should not that wéeke enter into the Courte, either sit at the table of a gentleman.

19 His rule commaunded, that no knight of the band shold presume to stand at his meate, eate alone, eyther to eate with∣out napkins: but that they should eate sitting, accompanied, and the cloath spread, vpon pain that the knight which should not do so, should eate one month without his sword, and pay a marke of siluer for the tilt.

20 His rule commaunded, that no knight of the band shuld drinke wine in a vessell of earth, either shoulde drinke wa∣ter in a pitcher, and at the tyme of drinking he shoulde blesse himselfe with his hande, and not with the potte, vpon paine, that the knight whiche should doe the contrarie should be a moneth banished from the Court, and an other month drinke no wine.

21 His rule commaunded, that if two knights of the band should quarell, and defie each other, the other knights shoulde trauel to bring them agréed, and if they would not be friends, that no man should helpe them vpon paine, that if any did cō∣trarie,

he should goe one moneth without his band, and pay•• a marke of siluer to the Iustes.

22 His rule commaunded, that if any did weare the bande without gift from the king, two Knights of the band shoulde defie him, & if they did ouercome him, he might not weare the bande, but if he ouercame them, he might from thence for∣ward weare the bande, & name himselfe knight of the bande.

* 1.31823 His rule cōmaunded, that when in court they should ex∣ercise Iustes and Turneys, the knightes that should win the prise at the iustes and turneys, shuld also win the bande (al∣though before he were none of the knights of the band) which the king presently there woulde giue, and all the knightes of the order into their companie should receyue.

* 1.31924 His rule commaunded, that if any knighte of the bande should lay hand vpon his sworde against any other knight of his companie, that in such a case he should not appeare before the king in two moneths, and that he should weare but halfe his band other two moneths.

25 His rule commaunded, that if any knight of the bande should giue a worde to an other knight of the bande vpon any anger or quarell, that he should not enter in court one whole yeare, the half of which time he should be prisoner.

26 His rule commaunded, that if any knighte of the bande were made a Iustice by the king, either in the court, or out of the same, that he might not do Iustice vpon any of y^e knightes of the bande, but that in taking him in anye thyng not well done, he might only take him, and afterwards remit y^e same vnto the king.

27 His rule commaunded, that the king going on warfare, that all the knights of the band should attend vpon him, and being in campe, they should all ioyne vnder one standerd, and ioyntly should fight togither: vpon paine, that that knyghte whiche in the warres should sight without his standard, and ioyne to an other straunge knight, should lose his yeares wa∣ges, and an other yeare should go with halfe his band.

28 His rule commaunded, that no knight of the band shuld

presume to go to the warres (except it be against the Moores) and that if in any other warre he should be founde with the Kyng, that for the present he take away the band, and that if he should fight in the fauour of any other than the king, he should lose the bande.

29 His rule cōmanded,* 1.320 that al the knights of the band shuld assemble thrée times in the yeare where the king shoulde cō∣maund: and these assemblies shuld be to make muster of their armor and horsses, & to talk in things of their order: and these were in Aprill, September, and Christmasse.

30 His rule cōmaunded, that all the knightes of the bande should at least turney two times in the yere, and iust foure, & to practise the play at the canes six times, and vse the carrere euery wéeke: vpon paine, that that knight which was foūd negligent to liue in these warlyke exercises, and should be vn∣readie in exercising of them, he shoulde go one moneth with∣out his bande, and an other without his swoord.

31 His rule cōmanded, that al the knights of the band shuld be bound within eight days after the king should come to any place, to set vp a tilt to iust, and letter for turney, and more than this, they shoulde haue a Maister, where to schoole and skirmishe, and to play at rapier and dagger: vpon paine that he that should be negligent herein, should be arrested in hys lodging, and they should take away halfe his bande.

32 His rule commanded, that no knight of the band should be in the Court without seruing some dame, not to dishonour hir, but to feast hir, or else to marrie with hir, and when she shall walk abrode to accompanie hir, as she shal lyke, on foote, or on horsebacke, vsyng reuerence with his cappe, and cur∣tesye with the knée.

33 His rule commaunded, that if any knight of the band did vnderstande, that within the compasse of thyrtie myles of the Courte there shoulde bée made any Iustes or Turneys, he was bounde to go thither to iust and turneye: vpon pain to goe one Moneth without his sworde, and as much with∣out his bande.

34 His rule commaunded, that if any knight of the bande shoulde be maried within thrée score miles compasse of the Court, al the other Knights of the band should go with him to the King, to craue for him some reward, and that afterwards they should accompany him to the place of his mariage, to the end that there they shoulde do some honorable exercise of chiualrie and knighthood, & to the end they should offer some iewell vnto his spouse.

35 His rule commaunded, that on the first sonday of euery moneth, the knights of the band should go to Court together, very well appointed & armed, and that there in the Court, or in the great hall in the presence of the king and al his Court, they should play at all weapons two and two, in such wise that no hurt were done: for y^e end that this order was made, was bicause they shoulde rather boast themselues of déedes, than of the names of knights, and were of the kyng therefore much honored.

* 1.32136 His rule commaunded, that they shoulde not torney more than thirtie with thirtie, and with swordes rebated, and at the sounde of a trumpet they shoulde assayle eche other, and also at the sound of the Clarion they shoulde all retire, vpon paine not to enter more in torney, and in one moneth not to go to the Court.

37 His rule commaunded, that at the iustes none shoulde run more than euery man his foure courses, and should haue for Iudges, foure Knights, and he that in foure courses brake not a staffe, should pay al the costes of the tilt.

38 His rule commaunded, that at the time that any Knight of the band did fayle or die, they shoulde all go to helpe him to die well, and after they should go to his buriall, and for that he had bin brother and companion of the band, they should for one moneth be cladde with blacke, & after for thrée moneths forbeare to Iust.

* 1.32239 His rule commaunded, that two dayes after the knight of the band should be buried, al the other knights of the order should assemble and go to the king, on the one part to deliuer

the king the band that the dead had left, and on the other part to make supplication (to haue remembrance) to rayse in hys place some of his able sonnes, if he left anye, and to vse hys bountie towards his wife, to sustaine and marrie hir children and daughters.

Behold here my Lord the rule and order of the knightes of the band, that was made by the king Alfonso: Ioyntly wher∣vnto I will adde all the knights that did first enter into thys order, the title of whome said thus.

These are the most Courteouse, the most esteemed, the moste renoumed, the moste cho∣sen Knights and Infants of the Knightlike order of the Band, that our Lord and king Don Alphonso commaunded to be made, whome God maintayne. The King Don Alfonso that made this order.

• ...The infant Don Pedro.
• ...Don Enrique.
• ...Don Fernando.
• ...Don Tello.
• ...Don Iuan el bueno.
• ...Don Iuan Nunez.
• ...Enrique Enriquez.
• ...Alfonso Fernandez Coronel.
• ...Lope Diaz de Almacan.
• ...Fernan perez puerco carrero.
• ...Fernan Perez ponce.
• ...Carlos de Gueuara.
• ...Fernan Enriquez.
• ...Aluer Garcia Dalbornoz.
• ...Pero Fernandez.
• ...Garci Ioffre tenorio.
• ...Iuan Esteuanez.
• ...Diego Garcia de Toledo.
• ...Martin Alfonso de Cordoua.
• ...Goncalo ruys dela Vega.
• ...Iuan Alfonso de Benauides.
• ...Garci Laso dela Vega.
• ...Fernan Garcia Duque.
• ...Garci Fernandez tello.
• ...Pero Goncales de Aguero.
• ...Iuan Alfonso de Carriello.
• ...Ynigo Lopez de Horozco.
• ...Garci Gutierez de Graialba.
• ...Gutierre Fernandez de Toledo.
• ...Diego Fernandez de Castriello.
• ...Pero ruyz de Villegas.
• ...Alfonso Fernandez Alcayde.
• ...

• ...Ruy Goncales de Castaneda.
• ...Ruy ramirez de Guzman.
• ...Sancho Martiuez de Leyua.
• ...Iuan Goncales de Bacan.
• ...Pero Trillo.
• ...Suero Perez de Quinones.
• ...Goncalo Meria.
• ...Fernan Carriello.
• ...Iuan de Roias.
• ...Ptralbarez Osorio.
• ...Pero Lobez de Padilla.
• ...Don Gil de Quintana.
• ...Iuan Rodrigez de Villegas.
• ...Diego Peres Sarmiento.
• ...Mendorodrigues de Viezma.
• ...Iuan Fernandez Coronel.
• ...Iuan de Cereiuela.
• ...Iuan Rodrigez de Cisneros.
• ...Oreion de Liebana.
• ...Iuan Fernandez del Gadillo.
• ...Gomez Capiello.
• ...Beltran de Gueuara vnico.
• ...Iuan Tenorio.
• ...Ombrete de Torrellas.
• ...Iuan Fernandez de Bahamon.
• ...Alfonso Tenorio.

THat which is to be noted in all this letter is, how in order the Gentlemen and Knights went in those days, and how they did exercise them selues in armes, and auaunced them∣selues by deedes of prowes, and that the children of good men were in the kings house very well brought vp, and were not suffered to be vitious and go lost. It is also to be noted in this letter,* 1.323 in how little time the world hath made so many chan∣ges, it is to wit, vndoing some, and aduauncing others out of the dust, bicause fortune neuer dischargeth hir shot but a∣gainst such as be set aloft. My Lord I say this, for that ther is to be founde in this order of the band, some auncient linages which in those days were noble and famous: all which be not only ended, but (also) altogither forgotten. What houses or Manors be there now in Spaine of the Albornozes, of the Te∣norios, of the Villegas, of the Trillos, of the Quintanas, of the Bi∣esmas, of the Cereiuelas, of the Bahamondas, of the Coronels, of the Cisneros, of the Graialbas, and of the Horozcos: of all these li∣nages there were Gentlemen and Knights very honorable. In those days, as in the list it doth appeare amōgst those that first entred into the order of the band, of al which, at this pre∣sent there is not found any notable Manor, neither so much as the name. There are nowe in Spaine other Linages, the

which be Velascos, Manriques, Enriques, Pimenteles, Mendozas, Cordouas, Pachecos, Cunigas, Faiardos, Aguilares, Manueles, Arel∣lanos, Tendillas, Cueuas, Andradas, Fonsecas, Lunas, Villandran∣dos, Carauaiales, Soto maiores, and Benauides.

It is a thing surely to be noted, and no lesse to be maruai∣led, that none of the linage of all aboue said, is named amōgst the Knights of the band. All which in these our days be illu∣stre, generouse, ritch, and much renoumed. It is well to bée beléeued that some of these glorious linages were risen in those dayes, and if they were not put amongst the knightes of the band, it was not bycause they wanted grauitie, but for that they had not at that tyme suche authoritie, and also by∣cause (though they had sufficient noblenesse) they wanted ri∣ches. Also it is to be thought that of those aunciente and for∣gotten linages there are inough at thys instant descending and decayed, that he noble and vertuous: whiche for that we sée they haue little and may do little, we hold it for better too kéepe silence, than so name them. The sonnes of Gentlemen and Knights, be they neuer so glorious in bloud, if they haue little, and may doe little, (let them hold it for certaine) they will estéeme them but little: and therefore it were very good counsell, that they shoulde rather remayne riche seruantes in their countries, than to come to the Courts of Kinges to bée poore Gentlemen. For after thys manner they shoulde in their countries be honored, that now go in Court discounte∣naunced.

According to this purpose it came to passe in Rome, that Cicero being so valiaunt of person, and hauing so great com∣maundement and power in the common wealth, they dyd beare him great enuie on all sides, and beheld him with ouer∣much malice. Wherefore a certaine Romane magistrate said (as if we should say vnto a frankling of Spaine) tel me Cicero,* 1.324 wherfore wilt thou cōpare with me in the Senat, since thou knowest & al others do know, that I am descēded of glorious Romanes, and thou of rusticall ploughmen? where vnto Ci∣cero made aunswer with very good grace, I will confesse it,

that thou art descended of noble Romane magistrates, and I procéede from poore ploughmen, but ioyntly with thys thou canst not denie me, but that all thy linage is ended in thée, and all mine beginnes in me. Of thys example your Lordship may gather what difference there is betwixt times, betwixt linages, and also betwixt persons. Since we knowe, that in Caius began the Augustus, and in Nero ended the Caesars. I would say by that which is saide, that the want of noblenesse in many gaue an ende to the linages of the Knightes of the band, and the valiantnesse of others, gaue a beginning to o∣ther glorious linages that be now in Spaine: bycause the hou∣ses of greate Lordes be neuer lost for want of riches, but for want of persons.

I haue enlarged this letter much more than I promised, and also more than I presupposed, but I giue it all for well employed, since I am sure, that if I remaine wearied in writing thereof, it will not be tedious vnto your Honour too reade it, bycause therein are so many and so good things, that of old Gentlemē they are worthy to be knowen, and of yong gentlemen necessary to be followed.

From Toledo, the xij. of December. 1516.

A letter vnto the Constable of Castile sir Ynigo of Va∣lesco, in which is touched that the wise man ought not to trust his wife with any secret.

REnoumed and good Constable, Sir Iames of Mendoza gaue me a letter from your honor written with youre hand, and sealed with youre seale, I would to God there were as good or∣der taken with my letters that I aun∣swer you, as is here vsed with such as you send me. For I cannot say, whe∣ther it be my hap, or my mishap, that

scarcely I can write you a letter wherof al in your house vn∣derstand not. As much as it doth please me that al men know me to be your friende: so muche doth it gréeue me, when you discouer of me any secret, chiefly in graue and most waightie affaires: for comming to the intelligence of youre wife and children that you communicat with me your delicat affayres, they will make great complaint if to the profit of their sub∣stance I direct not your conscience. My Lady the Duchesse did write vnto me, aduertising to haue some scruple in me, saying: that I was against hir as concerning the house of To∣uare, which I did neuer speake or thinke: for the office that I do most boast myselfe of, is to direct men that they be noble and vertuous, and not to vnderstand in making or marring of heyres or Manor houses.

My Lorde Constable you do know, that at all times when you discouer your selfe, and take counsell of me, I haue al∣ways sayd, and do say, that the Gentleman of necessitie must pay that he oweth, and what he hath, deuide at his will: and that to make restitution there néedeth a conscience, and too giue or deuide, iudgement and wisdome: if there passe eyther more or lesse betwixt vs two, it is without néede that youre noblenesse should speake it, or of my authoritie be confessed. For the things that naturally be graue, and do require secre∣cie, if we may not auoyde that they iudge or presume of them, at the least we may cut off, that they knowe them not. In that your Lordship hath let flie some words, or lost some let∣ter of mine, my Lady the Duchesse is not a little offended with me, and I do not maruell thereof, in that she not vnder∣standing the misterie of your spéech, or the ciphers of my let∣ters, did kindle hir choller, and raysed a quarrell against me: Beléeue me my Lorde Constable, that neither in iest or ear∣nest, you ought to put secret things in confidence of women: for to the end that others shall estéeme them more, they will discouer any secret. I hold the husbands for very doltish that hide their money from their wiues, and trust them wyth their secrets: for in the money there is no greater losse than

the goodes, but in discouering their secretes sometime he lo∣seth his honour. The Consull Quintus Furius discouered al the conspiracie of the tirant Cateline to a Romane woman named Fuluia Torquata, the which manifesting the matter to another friend of hirs, and so from hande to hande it was deuulgate thorough all Rome, whereby it happened that Quintus Furius lost his life, and Cateline his life and honour. Of this exam∣ple your Lordship may gather, that the things that be graue and effectuall, ought not to be committed to the confidence of women, muche lesse spoken in their presence: for to them it importeth nothing the knowledge of them, and their husbāds it toucheth much, if they be discouered. There is no reason to thinke, either is it iust to presume and say, that all women are like, for that we sée there are many of them honorable, honest, wise, discrete, and also secrete: whereof some haue husbands so foolish and such buzardes, that it shoulde be more sure to trust them than their husbands. Not offending the gentlewomen that be discrete and secrete, but speaking com∣monly of all, I saye, that they haue more abilitie to breede children, than to kéepe secrets. As concerning this let it bée for conclusion, that it happen you not another day to talke be∣fore any man, much lesse before any woman. That whyche we haue cōmuned and agréed betwixt our selues, there might rise thereof that your Lordship might remaine offended, and I disgraced. At this present there is nothing more newe in Court, to write, thā that I am not a little offēded, of that your Lordship dare discouer, & troubled with the wordes y^t my La∣dy the Duchesse hath sent me, for which cause I beséeche you as my good Lord, and commaund you as my godsonne, that you reconcile me with my Lady the Duchesse, or commaund me to be forbidden your house.

From Valiodolid the eight of August .1522.

A letter vnto the Constable Sir Ynigo of Velasco, wherein is touched that in the hart of the good Knight, there ought not to raigne passion or anger.

REnoumed Lord, and pitifull Consta∣ple, I may saye by your honour, that whiche God saide by the Sinagog, which is to wit: Curauimus Babilonian, & nō est curata, relinquamus illam, which is to say: we haue cured Babilon, and it woulde not bée cured, let vs aban∣don it. Sir I say thus muche, for that it hath happened not a little gracious vnto me, that whereas I craued in my letter that my Lady the Duchesse should not see any one part therof, notwithstan∣ding you haue not only shewed it, and conferred theron with hir, but also had great game thereat. Wherevpon in the way of reuenge, I shewed youre letter vnto the Earle of Nassaro, who with Flemings, Portingalles, Almaines, and Spaniards, dyd also take some pastime therewith, yet was it my very good lucke that all the euill that I saide of women in your letter, my Lady the Duchesse conuerted into iest, in such wise that with greate reason I may praise hir for hir wisedome, and complaine me of your temeritie.

My Lord Constable, I shall most hartely desire you not to haue such care to make proues of triacle with my letters, but to reade them, and to teare or else burne them: for it may hap∣pen that some day you might reade them before some not ve∣ry wise, either yet of good condition, that might deuine to my hurt, that which they vnderstand not, to their owne profit.

Leauing this a part, your Lordship sayeth, y^t for my sake you haue remitted the displeasure you did beare against y^e Gentle∣man, the which I accept for so great courtesie, and grace, as if vnto my selfe y^e iniurie had bin pardoned: for I am so tēder ouer him that is my dere friend, that al which I sée to be done in the behalfe of his person, & to the amendment of his estate,

I set it downe in mine own account. Besides the accomplish∣ment of my desire, your Lordship hath performed that which you were bound to doe: for Princes and great Lordes haue no licence to doe iniuries, eyther so muche as to reuenge them. For as you know, that whiche is in the meaner called wrath, in the mightie is named pride: and that which amōgst the smaller sort is chastisement, in the mightie is termed vē∣geance. As oft as you shall make coniugation with youre no∣blenesse and conscience, and shall call to remembrance that you be a Christian and a Knight, it shall not mislike you of the offences you haue dissimuled, and it shall grieue you of the iniuries you haue reuenged. The pardoning of iniuries gy∣ueth great contentation to the hart, and the desire of reuenge∣ment is no small torment thereof. By that whiche is said, I woulde saye, that sometimes for some man to reuenge some little iniurie, he escapeth from thence much more iniuried. There be some iniuries, that onely are not to be reuenged, neither as muche as to bée confessed: for things of honour are so delicate, that the same day that any confesseth to haue re∣ceyued an iniurie, from that day he bindeth himselfe to take reuengement.

The Consull Mamilius demaunded at a certaine time of Iulius Caesar, wherein it was that he had in this worlde most vaine glory, and in the remembring thereof did take most pleasure: to this the good Caesar made aunswer, by the Goddes immortall I sweare vnto thée (Oh Consul Mamilius) that of nothing in all this life I doe thinke that I deserue so muche glory, or any other thing doth giue me so greate ioy and con∣tentation,* 1.325 as pardoning of those that do offend me, and grati∣fying such as do serue me. Oh wordes worthy prayse, and pleasant to heare, notable to reade, and necessary to followe: for if Iulius Caesar did beléeue as a Pagane, he did worke as a Christian, but we all beléeue as Christians, and worke lyke Paganes.

I speake it not without a cause that we liue as (Paganes, although we beléeue as Christians,) since in this case the ma∣lice

of man is growen so great, that many woulde pardon their enemies, and dare not for feare of their friends: for if they once perceiue them to speake of pardoning any man, presently they will say, they doe it more of cowardise, than of conscience. Be it as be may, and let euery man speake as he thinketh good in this case of pardon, your lordship hath done with that Gentleman like a faithfull Christian, and with me like a very friend: and beside fidelitie to God, and frendship to a friend. There is no more to be craued of any man in this world.

The memoriall that your Lordship sendeth me of y^t things that toucheth your goods and conscience, I (my Lord) wil con∣sider therof at leysure, and wil answere vpon aduisement, be∣cause in your charges or discharges, in such wise I will giue you counsel as in my brest no scruple shall remaine. In him y^t asketh counsell there ought to be diligence and no slackenes, for that many times businesse lieth so in corners and so farre from hand, that it shall be more sure counsell to trust to our weapon, than to staye for that bookes shall say: the contrary wherof is to be vsed of him y^e shall giue counsel vnto another, which is to wit, that he haue much wisedome and little dili∣gence: for counsell that is giuen, if it be not vpon aduisement, most times bringeth some repentance.

The diuine Plato writing of Orgias the Greeke sayd,* 1.326 My frend Orgias, thou writest vnto me, that I should counsell thée how thou shouldest behaue thy selfe in Licaonia, and on the other parte, thou makest great haste to haue an aunswere: which thing although thou doest rashly craue, I dare not per∣forme, for that I doe much more studie to counsel my frends, than to read in scholes to Philosophers: the counsell that is giuen or taken, ought to be giuen by a man that is wise, for y^e good iudgement he hath, a learned man for the much that he hath read, an auncient man for that he hath séene,* 1.327 a patient man for that of him selfe he hath suffered, a man without pas∣sion bycause malice shall not blind him, a man without inter∣est, for that couetousnesse shall not let him: Finally, I saye,

that the shamefast man and of a noble minde, oughte to giue vnto his friendes money with liberalitie, and counsell with greate grauitie.

If it bée true (as it is moste certayne) that he oughte to haue all these conditions that shoulde giue counsell vnto an other, we dare wel say, that to giue counsell is an office so cō∣mon, that many vse it, and very few can performe it. There commeth a carefull man to aske counsell of his friende (in gi∣uyng whiche counsell the one way or the other, there goeth lyfe, honour, goodes, and also conscience) and then his friend whose counsell he hath craued, without remouing or further thinking therof, voyde of all scruple or doubt, sayeth what is to be doone in that case (as though he had founde it written in the holy Scripture.)

All this I say vnto youre Lordship, bycause sometime you be offended and growe angrie, if I answere not presently vn∣to your letters, and send you not your doubtes declared. As concerning that whiche you write of Marcus Aurelius, the case standeth thus: that I translated and presented it vnto Caesar not all finished, the whiche Laxao did steale from the Empe∣roure, and the Quéene from Laxao, and Tumbas from the Quéene, and the Lady Aldonsa from Tumbas, and your lord∣shippe from the Lady Aldonsa: in suche wise that my swea∣tes ended in your theftes. The newes of this Courte is, that the Secretarie Cobos groweth priuate: the gouernour of Bre∣fa doth kéepe silence: Laxao doth murmure and groane: the Admirall dothe write: the Duke of Veiar dothe hoorde and kéepe:* 1.328 the Marquise of Pliego dothe plays: the Marquise of Villa Franca followeth his busynesse: the Earle of Osorno dothe serue: the Earle of Siruela doth praye: the Earle of Bu∣endia doth sigh: Gutiere quixada doth iust: and the Iudge Ron∣quillo doth whippe.

From Madrid the sixthe of Ianuarie 1524.

A letter vnto the Constable Sir Ynigo of Velasco, in which is said, that which the Marques of Piskara reported of Italy.

REnowmed Lorde, and cōplayning Constable, it hath chaunced me with very good grace, that you neuer writte me letter wherin there cō∣meth not some murmuring complaintes, say∣ing: that I haue not answered to all that you haue written, or that I am very short in wri∣ting, or that I write but now and then, or that I detayne the messenger, or that I write as one offended: in suche wise that neyther in me is any end of faults, nor in your Lordship any lacke of complaints: but if youre Lordship will note, and ac∣cuse all the wants of considerations, negligences, slacknesse, simplicities, and doltishnesse that I haue: I can tell you, that you shall be wearied, and also tyred, for there is in me many things to be reprehended, and very few wherefore to be prai∣sed. That which is in me to be praised is that I estéeme my selfe to be a Christian, kéepe my selfe from doing hurt to any man, and boast my selfe to be your friend. And that which is in me to be reprehēded is, that I neuer leaue to sinne, neither euer begin to amend: this it is my Lorde that doth vexe me, this it is that settes me aground, and this is the cause why that there neuer remayneth in me gladnesse: for as youre Lordship knoweth, matters of honor and of conscience, gyue great cause to be felt or considered, but not to be discouered. To write short or at large, to write late or in time, to write polished or without order, neither is it in the iudgemente of him that doth indite it, either in the pen that writeth y^e same: but in the matter that he hath in hande, or in the aptnesse of time he vseth: for if a man be disgraced, he writeth that hée ought not, and if in disposition, he writeth what he listeth. Homer, Plato, Aeschines, and Cicero, in their writings neuer ceasse to complaine, that when theyr common wealthes were in quiet and pacifyed, they studied, read, and writte:

but when they were altered and vnruly, they coulde not stu∣dy, & much lesse wrought. That which passed by those glorious personages in those days, euery day passeth now in my selfe, for if I bée well disposed and in temper, it is offred me by heapes, as muche as I woulde write, and if by chaunce I bée disgraced or distempred, I would not so muche as to take pen in hand. There be tymes that I haue my iudgement so kind∣led and so delicate, that (as me thinketh) I coulde swéepe one graine of wheate, and cleaue a haire in sunder. At another time I haue it so dull and so farre remoued, that I can hardly hit a nayle with a stedge. I knowe not what to write of thys Court, but that the Marques of Peskara, is come hither from Italy, which doth recount from thence such & so many things, that if they be worthy to be put in Chronicle, they be not to be written in a letter. He that knoweth the condicione of Italy, will not maruell of the things therof: for in Italy no man may liue vnder the defence of iustice, but that to haue and too be able, he must be of power or else very priuate. Let him not desire to liue in Italy, that hathe not fauour of the king to de∣fend, or power in the field to fight: for in Italy they neuer care to demaunde by Iustice, that whiche they may winne by the launce.* 1.329 In Italy they haue not to aske of him that hathe an e∣state or goodes, of whome he did inherit them, but how be did winne them. In Italy to giue or take away estates or goodes, they séeke not right in the lawes, but in armes. In Italy hee that leaueth to take any thing, it is for want of power, and not for want of will. Italy is very pleasant to liue in, and very perillous to be saued. Italy is an enterprise whether many do go, and from whence few do returne. These and many other such like things the Marques of Peskara recounted vnto vs at the table of the Earle of Nassao, (many Lords being pre∣sent, and some Prelates.) Giue thanks vnto God our Lorde that hath bred you in Spaine, & of Spaine, in Castile, and of Ca∣stile in Castile the olde, and of Castile the olde in Burgos, where you are beloued and serued, for that in the other places or townes of Spaine, althogh they be noble & of power, they haue always some controuersies. The memoriall y^e your Lordship

sent me this yeare to consider of, and vpon the same to giue you counsell, nowe I sende it you corrected with my consci∣ence, and consulted with my science. No more. &c.

A letter vnto the Constable Sir Ynigo of Velasco, in which is declared, the prises of thyngs as in olde tyme they were wonte to be sold in Castile.

REnoumed and curious Constable, I haue re∣ceiued a letter from your Lordshippe, as it ap∣peareth by the same: although you be chief or heade of the Valascos, and I of the Ladrons of Gueuara, there you haue the déede, and here I haue the name. For entring into my cell, you haue stolne my Pictures, and ouerturned my Bookes. If there be a priuiledge of the Constables of Castile, (the reli∣gious being at his prayers, that they shal enter and sacke his Cel, it were very iust to shew wherfore they did it, or else to restore vnto the owner the thing stolne. Your Lordship wri∣teth vnto me, y^t you wil not restore the pictures that you haue takē away, except I send you written the auncient ordinan∣ces that were made by the king Don Iuan in Toro, in suche wyse, that you doe not content your selfe with stealing, but that you will also extort and doe violence. I know not which was greater that day, your fortune or my mischance, in that my Cell was open: for I swear by the faith of a christian, that my lance in the sight of God wer much more worth, if I shuld vse as great circūspection in refraining my thoughts, as I vse in the keeping of my bookes. Your Lordeship sayeth, that the booke you hapned vpon in my librarie was olde, of an olde letter, of olde tyme, and of olde thinges, and dyd entreat of the prices how all things was sold in Castile, in the time that King Iohn the first did first raigne. I wyll not only wryte vnto you that which the good king did ordeyn in Toro, but also the rude and grosse spéeche wherewith that ordinaunce was written, whereof maye be gathered howe there hath bene

changed in Spayn, not onely the maner of selling, but the ma∣ner of speaking. That which hath passed in this case is, that the king Sir Iohn the first kept Court in the Citie of Toro, in the yeare. M.CCCC. and .vi. in which he did ordein very par∣ticularly, not only how victuals shoulde be solde, but also for what prices the labourer should worke. The title of that or∣dinance sayth these wordes which followeth, in so olde a kinde of spéeche, that the Spanyards themselues craue an interpre∣ter, and is much to be maruelled at, but moste of all for the prices of thinges, is almoste incredible. Whiche I leaue vn∣written, partly to be considered by these words that follow, wherwith the Author concludeth his Letter as followeth.

Thys Letter beeing read, I beleeue your Lordshippe will maruell of the good cheape that was in those dayes, and of the dearth that is nowe of victuals. And I beleeue that you will laugh at the rusticall spéeche that was then, and of the polyshed spéeche that nowe is vsed, although it be true, that the vantage that we haue nowe in the spéeche, they had then of vs in their liuing.

A Letter vnto sir Alonso of Fonseca, bishop of Burgos, presi∣dent of the Indians, wherin is declared, wherfore the kings of Spayne be intituled Catholike.

RIght magnificent and Indian Proconsull, a∣bout twenty dayes past they gaue me a letter from your honour: and aboue fifteene dayes since I did write an answere of the same, the which no man to this day hath come to aske, neither do I know by whome to send it. Your lordship doth write that I should aduertise your honor what it is that they say here of your Lordship: to speake with liber∣tie, and to say you the truth, they say al in this Court, that you are a very good christian,* 1.330 and a very vntractable Bishop: also they say, that you are long, prolix, negligent, and indetermi∣ned in the affaires that you haue in hand, and with the futers

that follow you, & which is worste of all, that many of them doe returne to their houses, spente and not dispatched: they saye that your Lordship is fierce, proude, impacient, and sus∣picious, and that many doe leaue their businesse vndetermi∣ned, to see themselues by your Lordship so ouershadowed. O∣thers say, that you are a man that deales in troth, you speak truth, and that you are a friende of truth, and that a man gi∣uen to lying was neuer séene to be your friend: also they say that you are right in that you commaund, iust in your iudge∣ments, and moderate in your executions, and that whiche is more than all: that in matters of iustice, and in the deter∣mination therof, you haue neither passion or affection:* 1.331 they say that you are of muche compassion, pitifull, and an almes giuer: and that (whiche can not be spoken but to your greate praise) to many poore and in necessitie, from whom you take goods by Iustice, on the other parte you giue it them oute of your chamber. Your Lordeship hathe not to maruell of that which I say, neither doe I mislike of that which you doe, by∣cause out of the one and the other, there may be gathered, that no man in this worlde is so perfect, but there is in him to bée amended, eyther any man so euill, that hath not in him to be praysed. The historie writers do note Homere of vain spéech, Alexander for furious, Iulius Caesar for ambicious, Pompeius for proude, Demetrius for vicious, Haniball for periured, Ves∣pasian for couetous, Traiane for a wine bibber, and Marcus Au∣relius for amorous: Amongst men so illustre, glorious, and heroicall as all these were, it is not much that your Lordship do pay for a pounde of waxe to be of their fraternitie: And this pounde is not bicause you are an euill Christian, but for that you were of weake pacience. There is no vertue more necessarie in him that gouerneth a common wealthe than is patience: for the Iudge that is measured in that he speaketh, and dissembleth the iniuries that they doe vnto him,* 1.332 he maye descende, but not fall. The Prelates and Presidentes that haue charge to gouerne people, and determyne cau∣ses, muche more than other menne ought to lyue circum∣spectly,

and be of more suffering: for if we of you be iudged, be∣léeue me that of vs also you are beholden, vewed and consi∣dered. There is nothing in this worlde more sure, than he whiche is feared of many, ought also to feare many: for if I will be a Iudge of your goodes, for the same you will be a ve∣wer of my life: and thereof it commeth to passe that manye times the Iudge is more damnified in his fame, than the su∣rer in his goodes.

My Lorde all this is to be vnderstoode of Iudges that bée proude, of euill complexion and melancholike: Suche as bée milde, gentle, and suffring, they do not examine the liues they leade, but also they dissemble the weakenes they commit. He that hathe charge of the common wealth, it is necessary that he haue a milde condicion, in such wise that when he shall sée weakenes,* 1.333 that he make strong: and where he séeth courage, that he praise it: and where he séeth want of foresight, that hée prouide: and where he séeth dissolution, that he chastise: and where he séeth necessitie, to succour: and where he séeth se∣dition, to appease it: and where he séeth conformitie, to con∣serue it: and where he séeth suspicion, to cleare it: and where he séeth heauinesse to remedie it: and where he séeth gladnes, to temper it: for after extreme pleasure and gladnesse, many times do follow no small distresses. If in your vertuous at∣tempts ye take in hand, there shall happen some successe not conformable to youre good desires, and if it shall also chaunce that you be grieued therewith, impute not all the fault vpon your selfe: for the man that doth all that he can do, we cannot say to him, that he doth not that he ought to do, since in bloud I hold you for kinsman, in conuersation for friend, in autho∣ritie for my good Lord,* 1.334 and in deseruing for father, I shall not leaue to pray you as a father: and beséeche you as my good Lord, that you be mild in conuersation, and measured in your words: bycause of Iudges & Lordes as you are, at sometimes they do more féele a word, than of another the push of a laūce. But since in all this kingdome it is notorious that youre Lordship is honest of your life, and iust in youre tribunall or

iudgements: I wold not gladly heare that those that do praise that which you do, should complaine of that whiche you say: with a Lorde of so high estate,* 1.335 and with a iudge of so prehe∣minent an office, my pen should not haue presumed to write what it hath written, if your Lordship had not commaunded. My Lord I saide it, bycause if this that I haue here written vnto you shall not like you, that it may please you to sende too reuoke the licence that you haue giuen.

Also you will that I shall write vnto youre Lordship,* 1.336 if I haue founde in anye auncient Chronicle, what is the cause wherefore the Princes of Castile do call themselues not onely Kings, but also Catholique Kings. And that also I write vnto you, who was the first that called himself Catholique King, and what was the reason and the occasion to take this so ge∣nerous and Catholique title. There were ynowe in thys Court of whome you might haue demaunded, and of whome you might haue vnderstood, in yeares more aunciēt, in know∣ledge more learned, in bookes more rich, and in writing more curious than I am. But in the end my Lord be sure of this one thing, that that which I shall write, if it be not written in a polished stile, at the least it shall be all very true: Comming to the purpose, it is to be vnderstood, that the Princes in olde time did always take proud ouer-names:* 1.337 as Nabugodonozer that did intitle him selfe King of Kings, Alexander the greate the king of the world, the king Demetrius the conqueror of Ci∣ties, the great Haniball the tamer of kingdomes, Iulius Caesar the Duke of the Citie, the king Mithridates the restorer of the world, the king Athila the whip of nations, the king Dionisius the host of all men, the king Cirus the last of the Gods, y^e king of England defender of the Church, the king of Fraunce y^e most Christian king, and the king of Spaine the Catholique king. To giue your Lordship a reckoning who were these kings, and the cause why they did take these so proude titles, to me it should be painfull to write, and to your Lordship tedious to reade, it is sufficient that I declare what you commaunde me, without sending what you craue not.

* 1.338It is to wit, that in the yere seuen hundreth fiftie two, the fift day of the month of Iuly vpon a sunday, ioyning to the ri∣uer Bedalake, about Xeres on the frontiers, euen at the breake of day was giuen the last and most vnfortunate battell be∣twixt y^e Gothes that were in Spaine, and the Alarues that had come from Africa, in whiche the sorowfull king Sir Rodrigo was slaine, and all the kingdome of Spaine lost. The Moore that was Captaine, and that ouercame this famous battell was named Musa, which did know so well to folow his victo∣rie, that in the space of eight moneths he did win and had do∣minion from Xeres in the frontieres, vnto the rocke Horadada, which is neare to y^e towne of Onnia. And that whiche séemeth to vs most terrible is, that the Moores did win in eighte mo∣neths,* 1.339 which in recouering was almost eight hundred yeres, for so many yeares did passe from the time that Spaine was lost, vntill Granado was wonne. The fewe Christians that escaped out of Spaine, came retiring vnto the mountaines of Onnia, neare vnto the rocke Horadada, vnto which the Moores did come: but from thence forward they passed not, either did conquer it, for there they found great resistance, and the land very sharp. And when they of Spaine did see that the king Sir Rodrigo was dead, and all the Gothes with hym, and that without Lord or head they could not resist the Moores, they raysed for king a Spanish Captaine that was named Sir Pelaius, a man venturous in armes, and of all the people ve∣ry well beloued. The fame being spread thoroughout all Spaine, that the mountaine men of Onia had raised for king the good Sir Pelaius, all men generouse and warlike did re∣paire vnto him, with whome he did vnto the Moores greate hurt: and had of them glorious triumphes. Thrée yeares af∣ter they had raysed the good sir Pelaius for King, hée married one of his daughters with one of the sonnes of the Earle of Nauarn, who was named Sir Peter, and his sonne was called Sir Alonso. This Earle Sir Peter descended by right line of the linage of the blessed King Richardos, in whose tyme the Gothes did leaue the sect of the curled Arrius, by the meanes of

the glorious and learned Archbyshop Leonard. The good king Pelaius being dead, in the eighteene yeare of his raigne, the Castilians exalted for king a sonne of his, that was named Fa∣uila, the which two yeares after he began to raigne, going on a certaine day to the mountaine, meaning to flea the Beare, the Beare killed him.

And for that the king Fauila died without children, the Ca∣stilians elected for king, the husband of his sister, whiche is to wit, the sonne of the Earle of Nauarne, who was named Alon∣so, the whiche began his raigne in the yeare .vii.C.lxxij. hys raigne endured eightene yeares, which was as much tyme as his father in law the good King Sir Pelaius had raigned.

This good King was the firste that was named Alonso, which tooke his name in so good an houre, that since that daye amongst all the kings of Castile that haue bin named Alonso, we reade not of one that hath bin euill, but very good. Of thys good king Alonso the historiographers do recite many landa∣ble things to recompt, worthy to be knowen, and exemplars to be followed. The King sir Alonso was the first that out of Nauarne entered Galizia, to make warre vppon the Moores, with whome be had many encounters and battells: in the ende he ouercame and droue them out of Astorga, Ponfera∣da, Villa franca, Tuy and Lugo, with all their Countries and Castelles.

This good king Alonso was he that did win of the Moores the Citie of Leon, and builded there a royall place, to the ende all the Kings of Castile (his successors) should there be residēt, and so it came to passe, that in long time after, many Kings of Castile did liue and die in Leon. This good King Alonso was the firste that after the destruction of Spaine began to builde Churches and to make Monasteries and Hospitalles, in es∣pecially (from the beginning) the Cathedrall churches of Lu∣go, T••y, Astorga, and Ribe••ew, the which afterwards did passe to Mondonedo. This good king Alonso did bui••d many and ve∣ry solempne Monasteries of the order of saint Benet and ma∣ny hospitalles in the way of saint Iames, and many particular

Churches in Nauarne, and in the Countrey of Ebro, whiche he endewed all with great riches, and gaue them opulent posses∣sions. This good King Alonso was the first that did séeke, and commaunded to be sought with very great diligence, the holy bookes that had escaped the hands of the Moores, and as a ze∣lous Prince commaunded that they shoulde bée caried to the Church of Oiendo to be kept, and gaue great rewards vnto such as had hid them. This good King Alonso was the firsts that commaunded that all the greate writers and singers should resort to Leon, to the end they should write great sin∣ging bookes, and litle breuiaries to pray on, the which he gaue and deuided amongst all the Monasteries and Churches that he had founded: for the cursed Moores had not left a Church in Spaine that they did not ouerthrow, either booke that they did not burne. This good king Alonso was the first, that did begin to make all the Bishops houses ioyning to the Cathedrall Churches,* 1.340 bycause the heate in the Sōmer, either the colde in Winter, should not let them to be resident in the Quier, and to sée how they worshipped God.

This good king Alonso the first died in y^e age of .lxiiij. yeres, in the Citie of Leon, in the yeare of our Lord. 793. And hys death, of the Castilians and Nauarrois was as much bewayled, as of all men his life was desired. How acceptable his life was vnto God, it appeared most cleare, in that the Lord she∣wed by him at his death: whiche is to wit, that at the point of his last breath, they heard ouer his chamber Angelike voices sing and say: Beholde how the iust dieth and no man maketh account thereof, his dayes be ended and his soule shall bée in rest. The lamentation was so great that was made through out Spaine for the deathe of this good King Alonso, that from thence forward euery time that any named his name, if hée were a man he put off his cap, and if a woman she made a re∣uerence. Not thrée months after the death of the good King A∣lonso, all the mightie of the Kingdome ioyned in parliament, wherein they did ordeyne and commaund by a publique E∣dict, that from thence forward and for euermore none should

presume to say coldly or driely, the king Alonso, but for his ex∣cellencie they should cal him the king Alonso the Catholique, for that he had bin a prince so glorious, and of the diuine ser∣uice so zelouse. This good king was sonne in law of sir Pelaius,* 1.341 he was the third King of Castile, after the destruction thereof: he was the first king of this name Alonso: he was y^e firste that founded Churches in Spaine: he was the first King at whose death such Angelike voyces were heard: he was the first king that was intituled Catholike: by whose deseruings and ver∣tues all the kings of Spaine (his successors) be called to thys day Catholike Kings.

My Lorde, it séemeth to me, that since the kings of Spaine presume to inherit the name, they should also presume to fol∣low his life, which is to wit, to make warre vpon the Moores, and to be fathers and defendours of the Church: And for that in the beginning of this letter, I did vse the spéech of a friend, and in this I haue accomplished what you craued as a seruāt. I say no more, but that our Lord be your protector, and gyue vs all his grace.

From Segouia the xij. of May. 1523.

A letter vnto Mosen Rubin of Valentia, beeing enamoured, wherein is touched the displeasures that the amorous dames giue vnto their louers.

MAgnificent and old enamored,* 1.342 being in Ma∣drid the fourth of August, where I receyued a letter of youres, and for that it was torne, and the firme somewhat blotted, I sweare vnto you by the law of an honest mā, I could not find meanes to read it, or imagine or cal to remembrance who should write it. For notwithstanding we were acquainted when I was Inquisitor in Valencia, it is almost a thousand yeares since we saw eche other: after I awakened and called my selfe to remembrance, and did read,* 1.343 and read againe your letter, I fell in the reckoning that it was of Mosen Rubin my neighbour (I say Mosen Rubin the e∣namored)

I remēber that sometimes we were wont to play at the chesse in my lodging, and cannot aduise me that you gaue me the dame, but I do certainly remember, that you did not suffer me to sée your enamored. I remember that at the rock of Espadon,* 1.344 at the encounter we had with the Moores, I escaped wounded, and you with a broken head, where wée could neyther finde Chirurgion to cure vs, or as muche as a clout to bind vs. I remember that in reward for that I cau∣sed your bill to be firmed by the Quéene, you sent me a Mule which I did gratifie and not receyue. I remember that when we went to accompany the French King to Requena, whē we came to the seuen waters, I complayned for want of meate, and you for lacke of lodging: and in the ende, I receyued you into my lodging, and you went foorth to prouide victualles. I remember when Caesar commaunded me to repaire vnto To∣ledo, you gaue me a letter to be deliuered vnto the Secretarie Vrias, vppon a certaine businesse of yours, to whome I dyd not only speake but also obtained your sute. I remember that chiding with a Chaplayne of youre wiues in my presence, when he said vnto you, that it were not conuenient you shuld deale fowly with him, for that he had charge of soules, & was a Curat, you made answer, that he was not a Curat of soules but of fooles. I remember that I counselled you and also per∣swaded you, being in Xatina, that you shoulde giue to the Di∣uell the loue that you wot of: and I also doe knowe, bycause they were tedious, perillous, and costly. I remember that af∣ter in Algezira you reported (wéeping and sighing) that you had no power to chase them from your minde, either roote them from your hart: and ther I returned to say and sweare, that it was no loue, eyther pleasant to your persone, or too your estate conuenient. I remember that after we mette at Torres, where I demaunded to what conclusion you had fra∣med your loue, you answered in a thousand sorrowes and tra∣uelles, for that you had escaped from thence wounded, ab∣horred, beflouted, infamed, and also be pilled. Of many other things, (I remember) I haue both séene and hard you speake

and do, in that time that we were neighbours and couersant in Valentia:* 1.345 whereof (although we may talke) they are not too be written.

In this present letter you aduertise me that now you are enamored and taken with other new loues, and that since I sayd the troth in the first, you pray me to write my opinion in the second, (holding it for certaine, that my skil serueth to let bloud in the right vayne, and also to bind vp the wound.) Sir Mosen Rubin, I woulde you had written or demaunded some other matter: for speaking the very troth in this matter of loue, you are not in the age to follow it, eyther may it be con∣tained with my ingrauitie to write it: of my habit, of my pro∣fession, and of my authoritie and grauitie, you shoulde haue demaunded cases of counsell, and not remedies of loue: for I haue red more in Hostiensis that instructeth to giue counsell, thā in Ouid that teacheth to be enamored. Of a troth master Mosen Rubin I say, that it is neither you or I, that loue dothe like, and with whome she doth delight. For you are now olde, and I am religious, in such sort, that in you age doth abound, and in me wanteth libertie. Beléeue me sir & be out of doubt, it is not loue but sorow, not mirth but displeasure, not tast but torment, not recreation but confusion: when in the enamored there is not youth, libertie, and liberalitie. The man that is now entred into age, and wil be yong againe and enamored, they neuer terme him an old louer, but a filthy old foole, and (as God saue me) they haue great reason that so do call them: for old rotten strawes are more fit to make dung, than to bée kept. The God Cupid, and the Goddesse Venus,* 1.346 will not haue in houshold but yong men that can serue, liberall that knowe to spend, and frée that can enioy and delight, pacient that can suffer, discréete that haue skill to talke, secret that knowe too kéepe silence, faithfull to gratify, and valiant that can perse∣uer: he that is not endued and priuileged with these conditi∣ons, it should bee more sound counsell for him to delue in the field, than to be enamored in pallace. For there are not in this world men more miserable than the enamored that be foo∣lish.

The doltish louer besides that his dame scorneth him, his neighbours iest at him: his seruantes beguile him, Pandar be∣péeleth him, he is blinded with gilefull spéeche, euill imploy∣eth his iuels, goeth without foresight, he is light of beliefe, and in the end findes himselfe beflouted. All the offices, crafts, and sciences in this world may be learned, except it be the skil and occupation to know to loue: the whiche, neither Salamon had skill to write, Asclepius to paint, Ouid to teache, Helen to re∣port, either yet Cleopatra to learne, but that from the schoole of the hart it must procéede, and pure discretion must giue in∣struction. There is not any thing wherein is more necessitie to be discréet, than in being a louer: for if a man haue hunger, cold, thirst, and werinesse, the only body feeleth it, but the fol∣lies that is committed in loue, the hart chiefly bewayleth thē. To the end that loue be fixed, sure, perpetuall, and true, there must be equalities betwixt the enamored: for if the louer bée yong, and she old, or he old and she yong, or he wise and she a foole, or he a foole and she wise, or he loue hir, and she abhor∣reth him, or she loue him, and he abhorreth hir: beléeue me sir and be out of doubt that of fained louers, they shall ende assu∣red and vnfained enemies. Master Mosen Rubin, I thought good to say thus muche vnto you, to the ende that if the louer that you haue now chosen be in possession of thrée score and thrée yeres as you are,* 1.347 there is no greate perill that you loue and know hir. For most of the time you shall spend, shall bée in recounting vnto hir the louers that you haue holden, and she in reckoning vp vnto you, all such as hath serued hir.

Speaking more in particuler, I woulde knowe to what pur∣pose a man as you that hath passed thréescore yeares, that is full spent, and laden with the goute, will nowe take a Curti∣san yong and faire, which will rather occupy hir selfe in rob∣bing, than delighting of you? To what ende will you haue a loue of whome you may not be serued, but to bind vp grieues, and to driue away flies? Wherefore will you haue a daintie Dame, since betwixt you and hir there may rise no either cō∣uersation or communication, but to relate and count recko∣nings

and tales, and how little you haue eaten all the daye, and howe manie tymes you haue tolde the clocke that night? For what cause wold you haue a loue since you want strēgth to folowe hir, goodes to serue hir, patience to suffer hir, and youth to enioye hir? Why will you haue an amorous dame vnto whome you can not represente howe muche you haue suffered and endured for hir sake, but reporte howe the goute is rysen from the hande to the shoulders? To what conclu∣sion will you loue an infamous woman, whiche will not en∣ter in at your dores that daye whiche you cease to giue hir, or shall grow negligent to serue hir? To what consideration doe you delite to haue a wanton loue, vnto whome you shall not dare to deny any thing that she craueth, either chide for anye displeasure she giueth? To what seruice will you haue a law∣lesse loue, who may not be serued conformably to youre good, but agréeable to hir foolishnesse? For what skill will you haue alemman, which must be gratified for the fauour she beareth you, and dare not complayne of the ielosies she shal demaund of you? For what conceyt will you haue a seconde Lais, which when she shall flatter you, it shall not only be to content you,* 1.348 but something to craue of you? For what intente will you haue a loue, before whome you must néedes laugh, althoughe the goute make you raue? For what meaning will you haue a dissolute dame, with whom you shall spend all your goodes, before you shall haue acquaintance with hir conditions? And why desire you a lustie Lasse, with whom you are ioyned for money, and also susteyn hir with delights, and yet in the end must depart from hir with displeasures? If you M. Mosen Ru∣bin with these conditions will néedes be enamoured, be it so in a good houre, for I am sure it will rayne into your house.

To your age and infirmitie, it were more cōuenient to haue a friend to recreate, than a Lamia, with whom to putrifie. Sa∣mocratius, Nigidius, and Ouide did wryte many bookes,* 1.349 and made greate treatyses of the remedies of loue, and the re∣warde of them, is, they sought remedies for others, and v∣sed none for themselues, all thrée dyed, persecuted and ba∣nished,

not for those offences they committed in Rome, but for the loues they attempted in Capua. Let Ouide say what hée dreameth, Nigidius what him pleaseth, Samocratius what hée thinketh good, but in fine, the greatest and best remedy against loue, is to flée the conuersation and to auoyde the occasion: for in causes of loue wée sée many escape that doe flée it, and ve∣rye fewe that abide it. Sir take you héede, that the Dinel de∣ceyue you not in your reckenyng (a freshe to be enamoured) since it is not conuenient for the health of your person, either aunswerable to the authoritie of youre house: For I assure you of my faith, that sooner you shall be deliuered of the dis∣pleasures of your Courtizan, than of the paynes of the goute. My pen hath stretched out farther than I thought,* 1.350 and also farther than you would: but since you were the first that laid hand to weapon, the fault is not myne, if I haue hapned to giue you a wype. To the Father Prior of Corta caeli, I sende a riche palia, for my sake I pray you to cōmaunde that it bée giuen him, & in my behalf to visit him, bicause I lodged long time with him, & am much bound & affectioned vnto him. No more but that our Lord be your protector, and kéepe you from an euill lemman, and heale you of your goute.

From Madrid the thirde of Marche .1527.

A letter vnto the Bishop of Zamora Sir Anthony of Acuna, wherein he is sharply reprehended, for that he was cap∣tain of the commons that rebelled in Spaine.

* 1.351REuerent and seditious Prelate, Zalobrena the sergeant of your bande gaue mée a Letter of yours, whiche presently I coulde not vnder∣stand, but after I had read, & returned againe to reade the same, I did sée it was no letter, but a bill that the Bishop of Zamora had sente: wherein he dyd desie and threaten that he woulde kill me, or commaunde mée to be chastized. The cause of this defiaunce your Lordshippe declareth to procéede, for that in Villa Bra∣xima I withdrew Sir Peter Giron from your parcialitie, and

counselled hym to cease to followe you, and retire to serue the king. I my Lorde doe accept your defiance,* 1.352 and hold my selfe defyed, not that wée kill our selues, but that we examin our selues, not to the ende wée goe vnto the fielde, but to in∣commende our selues to reason. Which reason as a viewer of our factes shall declare whether of vs is moste culpable, I in followyng and obeying the Kyng, or you in altering and reuolting the kingdome. I remēber me being as thē but yong in Trecenon, a manour house of Gueuara, I did sée my vncle Sir Ladron, & sir Beltram my father, mourne in black for your father, & (in verie trouth my lord Bishop) seeing you as I did sée you in Villa Braxima compassed with artillery, accōpanied with souldiours, and armed at al points: with more reason we might weare gréen, bicause you liue, than black for y^t your father died. The diuine Plato of two thinges did not discerne which first to bewayle, that is to wit: the death of good men, or the life of the wicked: for it is a most great grief vnto the heart to sée the good so soon to die, and the wicked so long time to liue. A certain Greeke béeing demanded for what cause he shewed so great sorow in y^e death of Agesilaus? He answered: I wéepe not bicause Agesilaus died, but for that Alcibiades re∣maineth liuing, whose life offendeth the Goddes, and escan∣dalizeth the world. A certain Gentleman of Medina (who is named Iohn Cnaso) reported that being appointed to haue the ouersight of your bringing vp, he was driuen to change foure Nursses in six moneths: for that in nursing you were fierce wayware, and importune in suckyng. It séemeth vnto mée my Lorde Bishop, that since in your childhoode you were so paynfull, and in your lyfe so sedicious, it were great reason, that in your olde yeares as you shoulde be quiet: if not for your deseruing, yet to repose you shoulde seeke quietnesse: holding as you haue in youre possession thrée score yeare comple∣ted▪ and shortely maye boaste youre selfe of thrée score and tenne accomplyshed, it seemeth to mée no euyll counsayle that you offer (if it lyke you) the flower to God, for that you bestowed so muche branne in the worlde.

Since your gardein is blasted, your vinedage ended, youre floure fallen, your primetyme finished, your youthe passed, you olde age come, it were muche more conueniente to take order for amendment of olde sinnes, & reformation of youre life, than to execute the office of Captaine ouer rebelling cō∣moners. If you will not followe Christe that made you, yet folow sir Lewes of Acuna that begat you: at whose gates ma∣ny poore euery day did féede, and at your gates we sée not but playing and blaspheming souldiours.

* 1.353To make of souldiours priests, it passeth: but of priests to make souldiors, is an acte moste scandalous: whervnto I wil not say your Lordship consented, but that you exactely haue perfourmed. You broughte from Zamora to Tordissillas, thrée hundreth Massing Priestes, not to instructe the Kinges sub∣iectes, but to defend that Town against the King: and to re∣moue your Lordship from euill toungs, as also for the better saluation of their soules,* 1.354 you brought them from Zamora, in the beginning of Lent, in such wise that like a good pastor & an excellent Prelate, you remoued thē from praying to fighting: in the assault which y^e Gentlemē gaue at Tordessillas against your bande, I saw with mine eyes one of your priests with an harquebuse ouerthrow eleuen men behinde a window, & the grace was, that when he did leuell to shoote, he blessed him selfe with his péece, and killed them with the pellot. I sawe also, before the assaulte was ended, the Souldiours of oure side, that were without, giue that good Prelate such a blow in the forehead with an arrow, that the death of that caytise was so suddain, as he had neither time to confesse his sinnes, nor yet so muche as to blesse himselfe. But nowe the soule of that Bishop that remoued that priest from his churche, & the soule of that priest that slew so many men,* 1.355 what excuse can they haue before men, and what accounte maye they make to God? It were a sinne to take you from the warres, but much greater to make you of the church, since you be so offensiue, & in nothing scrupulous, & hereof we be most certain, for y^t you make no account to fight & to kill, and also to be irregular.

I woulde gladly knowe in whether booke you haue read most, which is to wit, in Vegetius, whiche entreateth of mat∣ters of warres, or in S. Austine his booke of Christian doctrine? and that whiche I durste auouche is, I haue séene you many tymes handle a partisan, but neuer anye booke: and it sée∣meth vnto mée not a little gréeuous, that to the souldioures that assaulted and fel at the taking of the fort of Impudia, they say, that you sayde: So my sonnes vp, fight and die, beholde, my soule for yours, since you dye in so iust an enterprise, and a demaunde so holye. My Lorde Bishop,* 1.356 you well knowe that the Souldiors that there were slayne were excommu∣nicate for sacriledge, traytours to the King, robbers of chur∣ches, théeues on high ways, enemies of the common wealth, and maintainers of ciuill warre. It is most euident, that the soule of that Bishop that speaketh suche blasphemie, is not much scrupulous, that desireth to die as a souldiour: neither doe I maruell that he desireth to die like a desperate Souldi∣our, that neuer made account of his estate as a Bishoppe. If you had raysed this warre to reforme the common wealth,* 1.357 or to haue made frée your countrey from some oppression and taxation, it might séeme you had occasion, although in déed no reason) but your Lordship hath not risen against the king for the weale of the kingdom, but to make exchange for a better Bishoprike, and to driue the Erle of Alua de Lista, out of Za∣mora. If you enter in reckening with all those of your bande, which goe in your companie, certainly you shall fynde that passion was your foundation, & not reason, neither zeale of the common wealth, but ouermuche desire in euery one to aug∣ment his owne house and estate.

Sir Peter Giron woulde haue the possession of Medina: the Earle of Saluatiera commaunde the royall Pastures: Fernan∣do de Aualoes reuenge his iniurie: Iohn de Padilia be maister of S. Iames: Sir Peter Lasso the onely ruler in Toledo:* 1.358 Quinta∣nilla Controller of Medina: Sir Fernando de Hulloa expell his brother out of Toro: the Abbot of Compludo obtaine the Bi∣shoprike of Zamora: the Doctor Barnardine, the Auditor of Va∣liodolid:

Ramir nimez the possession of Leon: and Charles de Arrelano ioyne Soria with Vorobia. The wise man sayeth, hée séeketh occasion that will depart from a frend: in like maner we may say, that sedicious men séek not but rebellious times: for that it séemeth vnto them whiche want & are in necessitie, while rebellion lasteth, they may feed of the sweate of other mens brows, and profit by their neighbors losse. The arte sée∣meth not a litle gracious which you haue vsed to deceiue and persuade Toledo, Burgos, Valiodolid, Leon, Salamanca, Auila, and Segouia to rebell, saying, that by this meane they shal be esta∣blished and made frée, as Venize, Geneua, Florence, Sena, and Luke: in suche wise, that from hencefoorth they shall not bée named Cities, but Seigniories. Musing what was to be said in this matter: a good space I had my pen in suspence, and in the end, I conceiued that vpon so great a vanitie and mischief (neuer lyke heard of) there is nothing to be sayd, much lesse to be written. For I hold it for certain and dare auouch, that you make not those Cities frée, but a praye, not entitle them with seigniories, but profit your selues with their riches. Those y^e wil take in hand any enterprise that naturally is seditious or offensible, haue not to consider of the occasion that moueth thē to ryse, but only the good or euil end which therof may procéed: for all famous offences haue had always a beginning of good respects. Silla, Marius, and Cateline, whiche were famous Ro∣mains, and glorious Captaines, vnder the coloure to delyuer Rome from euill gouernours, made themselues tirants of the same. At sometymes it is lesse euill in greate Cities to beare with some want of Iustice, than to moue the people, and ther∣by to raise warre: for that war is a certain net that catcheth away all weale from the common wealth.

The great Alexander being demaunded for what cause hée would be Lord of the whole worlde, made answere: All the warres that are raised in this worlde, is for one of these thrée causes, which is, eyther to haue goodes, many lawes: or else many Kings: therfore would I obtain the same, to cōmaund throughout the whole worlde, that they honour but one God,

serue but one king, and obserue but one law. But let vs now conferre your Lordship with Alexander the great, and we shal finde, that he was a King, and your Lorship a Bishoppe: he a Pagan, and you a Christian: he bred in the warres, and you in the Church: he neuer heard of the name of Christe, & you haue sworne to obserue his Gospell: and with all these condi∣tions he would not for the whole worlde haue but one king, and your lordship wold haue seuen only for Castile. I say vnto your Lordship, that you wold establish seuen kings in Castile, for that you would make the seuen Cities of the same seauen seigniories. The good and loyal gentlemen of Spayn vse to re∣moue kings, to make one king, and such as be traytours and disloyall, do vse to remoue the King, to make kings.

For vs and our friends, we wil no other God but Christ, no other law but the Gospell, or other king but the Emperoure Charles the fifth. And if you and your commoners will haue an other king, and an other lawe, ioyne your selues with the Curate of Mediana, which euery sunday doth establishe and take away kings in Castile. And this is the case. In a certain place named Mediana, which is néere vnto Palomera of Auila there was a Biskay priest, and halfe a foote, whiche was mo∣ued with so great affection to Iohn of Padilia, that at the tyme of bidding of beads on the holy days, he recōmended after this maner: My brethren, I commend vnto you one Aue Maria for the most holy communaltie, that it neuer decay. I commende vnto you an other Aue Maria for the maiestie of king Iohn of Padilia, y^e God may prosper him. I cōmend vnto you an other Aue Maria for the Quéenes highnesse our mistresse and Lady Mary of Padilia, that God may preserue hir: for of a troth these be the true kings, and all the rest before time were tyrantes. These prayers continued aboute thrée wéekes (little more or lesse.) After whiche tyme Iohn of Padilia, with his menne of warre passed that waye, and the souldiers that lodged in the priests house inticed away his woman, drank his wine, kilde his hennes, and eate vp his bacon. The sundaye folowing, in the Churche he sayde: It is not vnknowne vnto you my

brethren, howe Iohn of Padilia passed this way, and howe his souldiors hath left me neuer a henne, haue eaten me a flitch of bacon,* 1.359 haue drunke out a whole tinage of wine, and haue caried away my Cateline, I say, for that from hencefoorth you shall not pray vnto God for him, but for king Charles, and for our Lady Quéene Ione, (for they be the true Princes) & giue to the diuell these straunge kings.* 1.360 Behold here my Lord Bi∣shop, how the Curate of Mediana is of more power than your Lorshippe, for that he made and vnmade Kings in thrée wée∣kes, whiche you haue not performed in eyght moneths: and yet I doe sweare and prophesie, that the King that you shall establish in Castile, shall endure as little as that king whiche was made by the Curate of Mediana. No more but that our Lorde be your protectour, and lighten you with his grace.

From Medina del rio secco, the .xx. of December .1521.

A letter vnto the Bishop of Zamora, sir Antony of Acunna, in whiche the Author doth perswade him to turne to the seruice of the kyng.

* 1.361REuerend & disquiet bishop, by the let∣ter of Quintanilla of Medina, I was aduertised in what maner your lord∣ship receiued my letter, and also vn∣derstoode, that in the ende of reading thereof, presentely you beganne to groue, and murmuring, sayd: Is this a thing to be suffred, that the tong of Frier Antony of Gueuara, may bee of more power than my launce? and that he be not contented to haue withdrawne Sir Peter Giron, (euen from betwixte oure hands) but also now euen here doth write me a thousand blas¦phemies. It hath much pleased me, that my letter was so wel cōfected, y^t with such swiftnes it pierced vnto your heart: for I did not write that you should read it, but that you shuld reade and feele it. The patiēt that doth determine to receiue a litle

rubarbe, suffreth the bitternesse that it leaueth in the throte, for the profite it doth him against his feuer. I woulde say, that it shall little profite your Lordship, though you know how to complaine: if you do not likewise determine how to amende: for that your Lordship is an Oforio in bloud, in dignitie a Bi∣shop, in authoritie a gentleman or a knight, and in profession a Christian, I hold you in great reuerence: but ioyntly there∣with, as concerning your furious complainses and threates, I esteeme them very little: for there is a God that beholdeth his seruants, and a Prince that standeth for his subiects.

I conceyue no euil, that you be a warriour, and that you go armed, vpon condition that your armour be such, as the Apo∣stle speaketh of, quòd arma militiae nostrae non sunt carnalia sed spi∣ritualia: bicause your warre ought not to be with enemies but with vices, and as Seneca sayth, more glory was deserued by Cato in banishing vice out of Rome, than of Scipio for conque∣ring the Carthaginians in Africa. But since you would needes go on warfare, and make warre vppon the whole common wealth of Castile, to foyle your enemie the Earle of Alua de Lista, what faulte had the King and Quéene committed? To pardon many for the merite of one is the office of Christians, but to chastise many for one mans offence is the condicion of tyrants: in suche sorte,* 1.362 that from henceforth we may not call you Bishop of Zamorra, but tirant of the common wealth.

Many times I stay, to cōsider to what purpose your Lord∣ship would néedes disobey the king, alter the kingdome, raise vp the people, make armies, ioyne with communers, cast a∣way your selfe, and hurt and endamage the common welth: I am not able to comprehend any occasion, muchlesse any rea∣son (except it be that, as you desire to be Archbishop of Toledo you would obtaine by strength, that whiche you deserue not by vertue.) If the matter might come in iudgement before God, yea, and also before mē, your Lordship may be sure, that more demerites would be found in you to be dispossessed of your Bishoprike that you now possesse, than merits where∣fore to giue you the Archbishoprike that you craue. The dig∣nities

of the Church of God ought not to be giuen vnto suche as doth procure them, but vnto those that do refuse them: for so muche the more worthy is he to gouerne soules, that thin∣keth himselfe most vnworthy to performe the same. To de∣serue the Archbishoprike of Toledo, your Lordship ought ra∣ther to shed teares, than bloud: to be in the temple, and not in the fields: to accompany the religious, and not souldiers: too pray at your houres, and not to alter the common wealthe: but your Lordship séeing that you cannot deserue by vertue, you determined to obtaine by armed strength. You ought too haue remembred that God hath chosen you for a Bishop, and not for a Captaine,* 1.363 for the Church, and not for the warre: to preach, and not to fight: to be inuested with surples, and not with a shirt of maile: to succour Orphanes, and not souldiers: and also to giue orders, and not to order stales and ambushes to skirmish. The first bishop of this world which was S. Peter, founde amongst all the Apostles but two swordes to defende Christ, and there is to be founde a M. Hagbuts within youre house to ruinat this Realme. In such wise we haue to praise you, not for your bookes that you reade in, but for the armour you do possesse.

Maldonado (your seruant and my friende) hath aduertised me, that you haue giuen him a benefice of ij. C. Ducats. I de∣manding if he vnderstood to read his diuine prayers? He made aunswere: Sir you are in a wrong accompt, for at this instāt in the house of my Lord Bishop, none hath skill to pray, but we all learne to skirmish.* 1.364 The houses of good prelates, are not but certaine schooles of vertues where none may haue acquaintance with lies, or learne to play the glutton, or too goe at large, or to be idle, either yet to delight in much talke, either to quarrell, or to be ambitious: which is not so in your house, where all become absolute, and glory and presume too be dissolute. When the gouernours of the kingdome thys other daye sente me thither vnto you, to offer condicions of peace with those of the conuocation in the towne of Braxima, and sawe your Lordship armed, like a clocke compassed with

souldiers, inuironed with such multitude of shot, acompanied with such numbers of commoners, and laden with affaires, and businesse of so greate importance, I was in a dout with my selfe, whether that which I saw was a dreame, or else the Byshop Sir Turbin were risen againe from deathe. If you will not call to remembrance that you are a Christian, that you are a priest, that you are a Preacher, and that you are a natiue of this kingdome: yet become aduised that you descen∣ded of noble bloud, and of an auncient house (although it bée most true, that as you be an Osorio in bloud, so are you rash and desperat in condition.) It grieueth me (my Lord Bishop) that you vse armour, not as a wise man, but as one ouerrash,* 1.365 not as one that defendeth, but as one that offendeth, not as you ought, but as you list: for I perceiue you follow opinion, and flie reason: all your displeasure riseth for following your will, and imploying your abilitie to a wrong purpose, but as Seneca sayth, in the house where will doth commaunde, very sildome reason doth inhabit, and (as Muscoso maketh report,) that eating many times you saye at youre table, is there no man that will take me master Gueuara, to hang him at a windowe for the disceite and intising away of sir Peter Giron out of oure percialitie? To say that I deceyued him, I denie it: to saye that I deliuered hym from disceite I confesse it: and whether it be good or euill for him to remayne there or turne hyther, I am sure he repenteth not to haue beléeued me, neyther I to haue giuen hym counsell.

Youre Lordship doth well remember when youre Cap∣taine Lares did take me, and so taken brought me before you: and notwithstanding you reprehended and delte euill with me, I requested you on the behalf of the gouernours, that you would leaue warre, and accept an honest concorde, in whyche Embassage you estéemed me very little, of that I said made smal accompt also, and skoffed at that which I spake. My lord Bishop you do well knowe, how many euil dayes I haue pas∣sed, how many iniuries I haue suffred, what froward words with me haue bene vsed, what perills I haue past, what

despites haue bene done vnto me, with what threatnings I haue bin threatned, and also what slaunders they haue raysed vpō me: for that I haue folowed the King, and procured peace vnto the Kingdome. When I was at the towne of Braxima with your Lordship and with the Commoners, I preached nothing vnto you but penitence, and to the kings gouernours at Medina del rio secco I perswaded nothing but clemencye: for it was impossible, if the one did not repent, and the other pardon, that these kingdomes might be remedied, neither so many euilles and daungers cut off. Now since I haue traue∣led after this maner, and suffered so greate trauails, I knowe not why you should call me traytor, desire to kill me, and to hang me at a window, since I desire not to sée your Lordship hanged, but amended. Titus Liuius maketh mention of a Ro∣mane Patricide,* 1.366 who being ambitious of honour, & a coward to obtaine the same, determined to set fier on y^e treasure house where all the people of Rome layd vp their treasure. This e∣uill disposed fellow being taken, tormented, and examined of the cause of his enterprise, made answer: I would haue done this hurt to the commō welth, for that writers should make mention of me in their Chronicles: whiche is to wit, as tou∣ching the treasures of Rome, though I had not abilitie to ob∣taine them, yet had I skill to burne them. I thought good too put youre Lordship in remembraunce of this historie, to the end you may vnderstande, considering I am Preacher and Chronicler vnto his maiestie, in which imperiall Chronicle, there shall be sufficient report of your Lordship, not that you were a father and a pacifier of your countrey, but rebellious, and an inuentor of these warres. How maye I with troth write of the rebellion of Toledo, the death of the ruler of Se∣gouia, the taking of Tordesillas, the imprisonment of the coun∣sell, the siege of Alaheios, the conuocation of Auila, the burning of Medina, the alteration of Valiodolid, the scandall of Burgos, the losse of Toro, Zamora, and Salamanca, without I make mention of your Lordship? How may I make report of the euils that Vera the Lockier hath cōmitted in Valiodolid: Bo∣badilla

the shereman in Medina: the Lockiar in Auila,* 1.367 and Bur∣gos: and in Salamanca the Skinner: but that in that holy bro∣therhood we must find the Bishop of Zamora? I report me vn∣to you my Lord Bishop, shall I raise any slaunder vpon you, by reporting in my Chronicle, that I sawe at the towne of Braxima, all the artillerie brought togither to the gates of your house. I saw watch & ward kept rounde about your lodging, I saw all the Captaines of your bands féede at your table, I saw them all ioyne to consult in your chamber, and that al did exclame for long life to the bishop of Zamora? All these things which your Lordship hath done, I woulde gladly leaue them vnwritten, if your Lordship would amend, and also remedie the mischiefe you haue in hand: but I beholde you with suche eyes, and with such an opinion: that you will rather lose your life wherewith you liue, than the opinion which you follow. I conceiued no small compassion, when this other day I saw you compassed with the commoners of Salamanca, with vil∣laines of Saiago, with manquellers of Leon, with rebelles of Zamora, with Cappers of Toledo, and with hit makers of Va∣liodolid. All which in generall you are bound to content,* 1.368 and not licence to commaund. This kind of people that you leade of the communaltie is so vaine and fickle, that with threates they will followe you, with intreatance bée sustayned, with promises be blinded: fighting with feare, walking with sus∣pition, liuing vpon hope: not contented with little, or pleased with gifts: for their intente is not to followe those that haue most right, but such as giue best wages. There is a certayne difference betwixt vs and you, which is: that we whiche fol∣low the King, hope to be rewarded, but you haue no suche hope, but by violence to please your selues, which we knowe well that you your selfe haue promised to your selfe the Arch∣bishoprike of Toledo,* 1.369 we well knowe that Iohn of Padilia (hée himselfe) hath promised vnto himselfe the Mastership of S. Iames, we do know that Clauero (himselfe) hath promised vn∣to himselfe the Mastership of Alcantara, we well knowe that the Abbot of Compludo (he himselfe) hath promised vnto hym

selfe the Bishoprike of Zamora, we well know that the Prior of Vadiodolid (he himselfe) hath promised vnto himselfe y^e Bi∣shoprik of Valentia, sir Peter Pinentel, Maldonado, Quintanilla, Sarabia,* 1.370 y^e Licēciat Barnardine, and the doctor Cowsehed: None of these at this day wil giue their hope for a good quēt of rent. Ramir Nunez & Iohn Braue do accept to be called Lordes, Iohn Braue for y^t he hath hope to be Earle of Chincon, & Ramir Nu∣nez Earle of Luna: it may be that one of thē or both may first lose their heads, before they haue obtayned their estates.

Wherefore my Lord Byshop, retire, repent, and amend, by∣cause the loyaltie of Castile doth not suffer but one king, ney∣ther endure but one lawe. No more, but that our Lord bée youre instructor.

From Tordesillas the tenth of March. 1521.

A letter vnto Sir Iohn of Padilla Captaine of the Commoners against the King, wherein he perswadeth him to sur∣cesse that infamous enterprise.

* 1.371MAgnificent and vnaduised Gentlemā, the let∣ter that with youre owne hande you haue written vnto mée, and the credite and trust you sent me, with your seruant Montaluan, I haue receyued here in Medina: and to say the troth, I did not more delight to sée your leter, than I receyued griefe to heare youre message: for that it sée∣meth you determine to procéede with youre enterprise, and to finish the ruine of this common wealth. Sir you do well vnderstande, at the assemblie of Auila, I saide vnto you, that you were lost, deceyued, and solde: bycause Hernando of Aui∣la, Sir Peter Giron, the Bishop of Zamora, and the other com∣moners, had not inuented this Ciuill warre with zeale too redresse the offences in the common wealth: but to take vengeance of their enemies. Sir also I saide vnto you, that the resolution of that assembly séemed vnto me great vani∣tie and no small vaunte,* 1.372 and that which the common people demaunded, which is to witte, that in Castile all shoulde con∣tribute,

all shoulde be equall, all shoulde paye, and that they should be gouerned after the manner of segniories in Italy, the whiche is scandalous to heare, and blasphemie to speake: for as it is impossible to gouerne the body without armes, so is it impossible that Spaine be sustayned without Gentlemen. Also I said vnto you, that being of bloud vndefiled, of persone so well compact, in armes so expect, of minde so valiant, in iudgemente so aduised, in condition so well liked, in age so tender, and in the flowers of youre youth, it were muche more conuenient for you to serue the King in Flaunders,* 1.373 than Castile to trouble his kingdome. Also I did aduertise you, how in that of late the King had created the Admiral and the Con∣stable for gouernours, whiche with all the mightie and no∣bles of Spaine, ioyned in Medina del rio Secco, to giue order for the succour of Tordisillas, and to chase away the Rebelles frō the town of Braxima, my desire and iudgemēt is, that you shoulde rather estéeme to be a souldier with the Gentlemen, thā a Captaine ouer Rebelles. Also I said vnto you, that y^e go∣uernours had commaunded a scaffold to be made, wherevp∣pon a King at armes beeing ascended made publique procla∣mation, that all Knightes and Gentlemen that repaired not within fiftéene dayes with Horse and Armour vnder the Kings Standerd to serue and be resident, should bée holden as traytors and disloyall, and that it séemed vnto me that you shoulde rather haue accomplished that which the gouernours cōmanded, than that which in Toledo they had desired. Also I sayde vnto you that commonly ciuill and popular warres decay in puissance, preuaile sildome, and may not indure, and after they bée finished, and the common wealth pacified:* 1.374 the Kings and Princes of the same doe vse for custome to par∣don the commō people, and behead the Captaines. Also I sayd vnto you that you shoulde not blinde your selfe with foolishe lyes, eyther with wordes of vncertaine purposes, whyche is to witte: if anye shall saye vnto you that you are the fa∣ther of the countrey, the refuge of prisoners, the repaire of the grieued, the defender of the common wealthe, and

the restorer of Castile: for the very same persons that to daye do name you redeemer, on the morrow will proclaime you traytor. Also I sayd vnto you that you ought to haue before youre eyes, that your father Peter Lopes, and your Vncle Sir Garcia, and your Brother Gutiere Lopes, and all your friends and alies, be all in seruice of y^e King in the gouernours Camp: and that you alone (of all your linage) amongst rebelles bend against the King, whereof there followeth that you alone be∣ing in fault, they here in generall receiue the shame.

Also I said vnto you, that since the King had giuen you no cause of offence, either taken from you any rewarde or boun∣tie, or commaunded you any iniustice. It were very vniust that you shoulde be the whip wherewith Hernando of Aualos should reuenge his iniurie. For if he hath sworne to be reuen∣ged of Xeues, also you are bound to be faithfull vnto the King. Also I saide vnto you, that you shoulde giue to the Diuell the prophestes, witchcrafts, and enchantments of the Lady Ma∣ry your wife: whiche is sayde that she and a certaine woman slaue do practise? for that to speake and practise with the Di∣uell, it may not be otherwise but that she-looseth hir soule, and you to lose your life and honor. Also I said vnto you, that you should not care to attempt to enter the Couent of Vcles, with intent to be master of Saint Iames, either to throw Sir Iohn del rio Secco out of Toledo, since it were a vanitie to thinke it, and a great lightnesse to take it in hande, for to be master of saint Iames, you haue not done suche seruice wherefore it should be giuen you, neyther sir Iohn hath done any treason, why it should be takē from him. So many and so good Coun∣sells, so many and so profitable aduises, so many and so per∣swasible words, so many and so importune desires, so many and so great promises, so many and so great assurances, as I gaue, promised, did sweare, desire, and importune, and assure you, mighte not procéede from a suspitious friende, either from a man of a double cōdition, but rather as from a father to a sonne,* 1.375 from a brother to a brother, and from a friend to a friende. I would to God you did throughly know my hart,

and the heart of Hernando of Aualos your vncle, then shoulde you sée most cleare, how it is I that do loue you, and he that doth deceyue you: I that giue you the hande, and he the man that offreth you deceyts: I that shew you the deapth, and he that sendes you to the bottome: I that set vp the marke, and he that takes away the white: I that lettes you bloud in the right vaine, and he that lameth your armes. Finally,* 1.376 I am he that would cure and open your impostume, and he is the man that giueth end to your lyfe, and burieth your renoume. If you had taken my counsell, I had placed you in my Chro∣nicles amongest the glorious personages of Spayne, with the famous Viriato, the venturous Cid, the good Fernan Gonsalis, the Knight Tiran, and with the great Captaine, and other in∣finite Knightes and Gentlemen woorthie of prayse, and no lesse to be followed. But since you woulde néeds imitate and credit Hernando of Aualos, and the other rebellious commo∣ners, I shall be forced to place you in the Cathaologe of the famous tyrantes, that is to saye, with the Iustice Castromino, and Fernan Centeno, with captayn Sapico, the duchesse of Vil∣lalua, the Marshal Peter Pardo, Alfonso Trusillo, Lope Carasco,* 1.377 and Taymayo Isquirdo.

All these and many other with them, were tyrantes and rebelles in the dayes of king Iohn, and king Henry. And this is the difference betwixt you and them, that euery one of them dyd tyrannise but their owne countreyes, but you the whole countrey of Castile. I can not comprehend your intention, ei∣ther can I conceyue what you may obtaine in folowing this enterprise, and to contend vpon so vniust a demaunde, since you knowe, and all we vnderstande, that if your enterprise shoulde happe to preuayle, there is none that woulde accepte, gratifie, or take it in good part: and if your purpose be made frustrate, there is a Kyng that will reuenge the iniurie, for the greatenesse and Maiestie of Castile knoweth not to en∣dure disobedience to their kings, either suffer themselues to be commaunded by tyrantes.

When this yeare ye came to talke with me in Medina del

campo, and I went with you to sée the bit maker, and Viloria, the skinner, Bobadilla the sheareman, Pennelas the carde ma∣ker, Ontoria the lockier, Mender the bookebynder, and Lares the enseigne bearer, that were the heads and inuentours of the commoners of Valiodolid, Borgos, Leon, Zamora, Sala∣manca Auila, and Medina: I assure you, I was dismayde and ashamed for that presently I did both sée and knowe that pas∣sion was your guyde,* 1.378 and they conducted by opinion, & that you all, did flée reason: but for that I am in lyfe a sinner, in habite religious, in office a preacher, and in knowledge sim∣ple, you haue not to make small accompt of my counsell: for as Plato sayd, we are not a little beholding vnto those that do aduise vs wherin wée erre, and doe directe vs in what wée ought to doe: for it is much better we amend by others cor∣rection, than lose our selues by foolishe perseuerance. Beléeue me, and be out of doubt, Maister Iohn of Padilla, if you had spoken firste with me in Toledo, as you did after talke with me in Medina, you had neuer taken this enterprise in hande: for as the Emperour Traiane did vse to say, men that possesse noble heartes and blushing vysages, ought neuer to beginne that, whiche lyeth not in their handes to performe: for other∣wyse, they shall leaue with great shame, that they beganne with great hope. Sir, you doe well knowe, that all those that you leade in your campe against the king, be théeues, mur∣therers,* 1.379 blasphemers, and seditious Commoners: all whiche as they are a base people, and men of handicrafte, you haue to intreate them, but not to force them: suffer, but not to cha∣stise: to pray, but not to commaunde: to flatter, but not to threaten: for they followe you not to remedie things amisse, but to rob the goods that others haue in possession. That daye that the king shall enter into Castile: that day that you shal lose any battell: and also that daye that you haue not to paye the men of warre, then shall you sée howe they will trudge from you, without takyng any leaue, and also make a se∣crete sale of you.

Sir, haue compassion of your age so tender, and of youre

bloud so vndefiled, of your parentage so honorable, of youre house so auncient, of your condition so good, of your abilitie so ••ntier, and of your youth so euill imployed: all which things you haue vnfauourly infected, and also in a maner mortifyed. If you will beléeue me and giue credite vnto my wordes, in∣commende your selfe vnto God, leaue this enterprise, turne vnto the king, goe vnto the Gouernours, and shake handes with these commoners. Forasmuche as the king is pitifull, and all men desire your remedie and welfare: hée woulde much more accept your comming to serue with the rest, than to haue raised this war against him. Let not the deuil deceiue you, either any vaine or fantasticall imagination hinder you to performe the same, neither to conceiue that they haue to charge you with vnstablenesse, in that you haue enterprised, either as a traitor for y^t you haue taken in hād: bicause in al y^e histories of this world they be acompted loyal that serue their king and such as rebell be called disloyall, & traitors. Also if a Gētleman be reproued for slouthfulnesse, he riseth more ear∣ly, and vseth more diligence: if they call him babbler, he kée∣peth silence: if they accuse him for a glutton, he vseth tempe∣rance: if they charge him as an adulterer, he abstayneth: if they burden him to be furious, he suffereth: if they impute him to be ambicious, he abaseth: if they name him a sinner, he amendeth: but if they call him by the name of a traytor, there is no water that may wash or make it cleane: either any ex∣cuse that may excuse it. Neyther is the King so muche offen∣ded, or the kingdome so much altered, or affaires so aforehand, nor the Gouernours of so hard disposition, but that you maye be reduced and finde time very conuenient to serue the King.* 1.380 The which if you woulde performe, I promise you by y^e faith of a Christian, and do sweare vnto you by the lawe of an ho∣nest man, that amending this wrong, my penne shall change his stile.

Montauan, maister of your house, and I haue communed in secrete things of greate importaunce, and since he did herein credit me, it shal not be amisse that you beleue him there, and

if you will not, I washe my handes of all your faulte, and from hence forwarde doe take my leaue of your friendship. No more, but that with the faith and credit that I haue recei∣ued your letter, with the verie same it may please you to re∣ceyue this of myne.

From Medina del camop the eight day of Marche, in the yeare of our Lorde .1521.

A letter vnto a Gentleman, and secrete friend to the Author, wherin he doth aduise and reprehende him for his wretched couetousnesse.

* 1.381MAgnificent and couetous Gēleman, the good Emperor Titus, that was son to Vaspasian, and brother to Domitian, was of himself so vertuous, & of al the Romane Empire so welbeloued, that at the tyme of his death they did en∣graue these words vpō his sepulcher: Delitiae moriūtur generis humani, which is to say, To daye is dead in Rome y^t did reioyce all mankynd. Of this good Emperor Titus is read in Suetonius, y^t being at supper on a time with many Princes of y^e empire,* 1.382 & other Embassadors of diuers kingdoms, sodeinly gaue a great sigh, & sayd, Diem amisimus amici, as if he should say more cléere: Let not this day be accompted amongst the days of my lyfe, bicause this day I haue not performed any boun∣tie, neither giuen any reward. Plutarke doth report of Alexan∣der the great, that when many Philosophers had disputed in his presence wherein consisteth the good happe of this lyfe, hée made answere: Beléeue me friends, and be out of doubt, that in all this worlde there is not equall delighte or lyke pleasure, as to haue wherwith to be liberall, and not where∣fore to chastise.* 1.383 Also it is said of Theopontus the Thebane, who béeing a Captayne of men of warre, a souldioure craued of him some péece of money to buye breade, and hauing none to giue, pulled of his shoes, saying: If I had better, I would giue thée better, but in the meane while take these shoes of

myne for that I haue no money:* 1.384 for it is more iust that I goe barefoot, than thou an hungred. Dionysius the tyrant entring vpon a certain day into his sonnes chamber, and séeing there many iewels of siluer and gold, sayde: Sonne, I did not giue these riches to the end thou shouldest kéepe them,* 1.385 but bicause thou shouldst giue and imparte them. For there is no man in this world of more power, than the giuing and liberall man: for with his giuing he conserueth his frends, and maketh tē∣der his enimies. I haue made this discourse to vtter a cer∣taine thyng vnto you, which if you were in Castile, as you are in Andolozia, my penne should neuer haue written vnto you, but my toung should haue spoken it into your eare: for our as∣sured friendes, notwithstanding wée haue licence to blame them, yet we may not vse our libertie to defame them. Some of Andolozia hath told me here, and some of your frendes haue written me from thence, that your delite excéedeth to farre in hoording vp of money, and no lesse enimie with the spendyng therof. Of which déede and disposition I am not a little grie∣ued, & also muche ashamed, bicause honor & auarice be so con∣trarie and in such contention and defiance, y^t they neuer dwell in one person, neither at any time had any affinitie. All vici∣ous men in this life haue some tast in their vices, except it be the miserable and most vnfortunate couetous nigard, which is tormēted with that which others do possesse, & takes no tast in that whiche he hath. The painfull trauell of the couetous nigarde is, that always he walketh suspicious and in feare, that the raging flouds carrie awaye his Milles, that the hierd eate vp his meades, that hunters steale his game, and that théeues rob his treasure: but in fine, the miserable couetous man, from no man dothe so muche defend his goodes,* 1.386 as from his own person. That wherin the couetous man takes most sauour, is to hutch vp double Ducates, to tell golde, to hyde money, to sel his wine deare, to hoord much wheat in garners his Eawes to haue good yeaning, not to raine in Aprill, and to haue much wheate in May. The highest glory of the coue∣tous man is, to be gettyng, to be hoording, none to craue of

him, and neuer to spende. And although in these fewe things he taketh some taste, with many other he passeth greate tor∣ments, which is to vnderstande, if they aske an halfepenie for spice, a peny for candles, a dandiprat for an earthen pot, a farthing for oyle, two pens for salt, he riues the house with yelles, and giues vnto the diuell both wyfe and children, ex∣claming that they are all bent to rob him. God endueth that 〈◊〉〈◊〉 with singular grace to whom he giueth a shamfast coū∣•••…•••…unce, and an heart of noble disposition. For if the wret∣ched nigard had once tasted how sweet a thing it is to giue: the things most necessarie to his propre vse, he should not be able to retaine. The noble mynded and liberall man giueth not so muche as they giue him: for in recompence of euery boun∣tie, they giue themselues wholly at his libertie to bée com∣maunded.

* 1.387The liberall and noble minded man is Lorde of the people where he dwelleth, & of all men with whom he hath conuer∣sation: for being assured that he wil gratify them, no mā hath the face to denye him any thing. The contrarie doth chaunce to the miserable nigarde and harde harted couetous man, vn∣to whome no man will approche, no man will talke, no man will accompanie, no man giueth any thing, no man entreth his dores, neither any man will fetche fire at his house. Who will craue any thing of the couetous nigard? much lesse en∣ter his house,* 1.388 séeing him weare his shoes torne, his hose rent, his cap thréede bare, his hat greasye, his shirt ragged, his dou∣blet lose and vnpoynted, and he walking alone? Howe will he remedie the necessitie of a stranger, that will not mende the gutter of his house? Howe will hée giue any man an almes that trusseth himselfe with a points end? How wil he succour the vnknown, that killeth his own with hunger? How wil he giue wood to the hospitall, that warmes himselfe by the trash of strawe? To whome will he lend money that burieth his owne? Howe will he imparte and giue of his wheate, that hath hope in May to sel for double price? Who dare be a frend to the couetous and wretched nigard, being an enimye to him

selfe? How many couetous men haue we séene and doe sée e∣uery day, vnto whome God giueth force to get riches, wit to sustain them, a mind to defend them, a life to possesse them, & giueth them not licence to enioy them? but where they might be Lordes of other mens,* 1.389 we see them slaues to their owne proper goodes. Of how muche more excellencie is honest pro∣pertie, than is cursed auarice, whiche is to be knowen moste cleare: bicause the poore man is contented with his little, and the rich man with his aboundance séemeth to be in necessitie? What greater disgrace, eyther greater mischance may hap∣pen to the welthy couetous man, since for all things he séeth in others he sigheth, and all that he hathe in possession he lac∣keth? The couetous man hath his eyes occupied in his vines he planteth, his hands in the money he receyueth,* 1.390 his tong a∣mongst his factors with whome he chideth, his feete in wan∣dring to his heards and granges, hys time in wiles that hée frameth, his eares in accompts be receaueth, his body in bar∣gaines he maketh, & his hart on the Ducates that with great watch he kéepeth: in such wise, that as he goeth wandring be∣sides himself, so he obserueth no part to himselfe. That the couetous man hathe not the heart or courage to giue to hys friends or kindred, it is most true. Dare they bestow any cost vpon themselues? no surely: no truly: but holde it as euill im∣ployed whatsoeuer they bestowe vppon themselues, as that which is stolne from them. To the couetous miserable nigard they raise a slander vpō him, in saying that he is rich: bicause, not he the riches, but y^e riches doth him hold & possesse: in such wise, that he passeth greate trauelles in gathering of them, danger in kéeping them, law in defending them, and tormēt in departing from them: for if shame did not let him, he would rather eate bread and onyons, than lay out one peney. The couetous man is not of so good disposition as is the dirtie Pot∣ter, since the one profiteth himselfe by earthe, and the other dare not touch golde: and farther and besides this, the poore Potter getteth his liuing by selling of pottes, & the wretched couetous man loseth his honor by hoording of riches. The

wretched niggard hauing his money neuer so muche buried, watched, and kept, yet from none doth he so much kéepe it, as from himselfe,* 1.391 bycause if hée haue two keyes vnto his coffer to make all safe, he hath two hundreth in his hart to saue thē from spending: men shamefaced and of noble mindes, haue greate cause to beware that they begin not to hourd or lay vp money: for if he once giue himselfe to hourd and hide money, be it neuer so little, be it no more but to gain one only groate, he shal euery day fall into a thousand euils, shames, and con∣fusions. For any man to be reuenged of a couetous manne, he hathe not but to desire that he may liue long, for a muche worse life is obtayned by the wretched nigard with his aua∣rice,* 1.392 than we would giue him with some great penance. I doe lie if I did not know (being warden of Areuallo) a great riche man, which did not eate of all his goodes, but the faine frute, the rotten grapes, the mustie Wheate, the sowre Wine, the Rateaten bread, the wemmy chéese, and the resty Bacon: in such wise that he would not enterprise or aduenture to eate, but that he could not sell. I confesse that sometimes I wente vnto his house, more to beholde than for any businesse, and saw his chambers full of Cobwebs, his doores vnhanged, the windowes cleft, the lockes decayed, the flowers vneuen and full of holes, the tiles vntiled, the chaires broken, the chim∣neys falne downe: in suche wise, that it was rather an house to murmure at, than to dwell in. Although it be a shame to spell it, I wil not leaue to say that which the neighbours and his friends hath sayd vnto me: that if there hapned any kins∣man or friend to visit him, he was driuen to séeke lodging at his neighbours, or to borow all that was necessary. Great (of a troth) is that couetise, and much infamous is that auarice, which is not repressed with the shame of this world, neyther cut off by the feare of death. The couetous wretched niggard, that he goeth seeking,* 1.393 is carefulnesse for himselfe, enuie for his neighbours, spurres vnto his enemies, a pray for théeues, perill for his person, damnation for his soule, malediction for his heires, and law for his children. All these thinges Sir I

thought good to write, thereby to giue you to vnderstande the grosse office you haue taken in hande, and the euill opinion they do couceyue of you (the which to vs your friends is great shame, and to you a most great infamie.) Sir amende youre fault, and take some other order in your life, for in the house of any honest manne, any lacke of goodes is tollerable, but no want in honour. If you shall alwayes continue to be a miser, a niggard, and shall giue your selfe to kéepe and hoord money, from henceforward I take my leaue of your friendship, and also to call you my acquainted: For I neuer delighted to hold acquaintance with the man that woulde presume to lie, and giue himselfe to kéepe. This letter I send you without head or foote, which is to wit, without date or firme, for going with such choler and so vnsauorie, it is not reason he shoulde bée knowen that did write it, neither to whome it was written. No more.

A letter vnto the Lady Mary of Padilia, wife to Don Iohn of Padilia, wherein the Authour doth perswade, that she tourne to the seruice of the king, and giue no occasion of the losse of Castile.

MAgnificent and vnaduised Lady, in the dayes that the good Emperour Iustinian did raigne in the East, a certaine Captaine of his dyd gouerne the kingdomes in the West y^t was named Narsetes, a man of greate capacitie to gouerne, and of great valiantnes in fighting and giuing battell: of this Narsetes the Romanes did saye, that in him only was the force of Hercules, the boldnesse of Hector,* 1.394 the noblenesse of Alexander, the wisdome of Pirrhus, the vali∣antnesse of Antheus, and the fortune of Scipio. After that thys glorious captain had ouercome and slaine Atholia King of the Gothes, Vncelino king of the French men, Sindual king of the Brittons: and also pacified and triumphed ouer all the king∣domes of the West, the Romanes sought meanes to disgrace

him with his Lorde and maister Iustinian, saying and giuing him to vnderstand, that he sought meanes to obtaine the Em∣pire: wherefore Narsetes was constrayned to departe from Rome and to passe into Asia to appeare before the Emperour Iustinian, and the Empresse Sophia his wife, to declare his in∣nocencie, and to make proofe that enuie had raised that sclaun∣der: certaine dayes were then past that the Empresse Sophia had conceyued disdaine against Narsetes, some say it was for his great wealth, others for that he commaunded in the Em∣pire with too much authoritie, and others bycause he was a gelded man: and when she sawe time to vtter hir hatred, she said vnto him in Court on a certaine day: since thou Narsetes art lesse than a man, and halfe a woman (being an Eunuche) I commaunde thée to leaue the gouernment of the Empire,* 1.395 and that thou get thée vp to weaue where my maydes doe weaue and knit caules, and that there thou help them what they commaund thée. Although Narsetes were a man of great authoritie and of no lesse grauitie, these words did so deepely pearce him to the quicke, that he chaunged countenance, the teares brake from his eyes, and so chafed, with teares he said: Serene Princes, I woulde right gladly that you shoulde cha∣stise me as a Lady, but not to defame me like a woman: it gréeueth me not so much of that you haue said, as the occasion which you giue me, how to make you answer: and said more, I presently depart vnto Italy to weaue, knit, and frame such a toyle,* 1.396 that neyther thou maist comprehend, nor yet thy hus∣band able to vnweaue. Comming now to the purpose, my Lord Abbot of Compludo gaue me here in Medina a letter frō your Ladiship, which contained such ouerthwarts, such want of measure, and so greate rashnesse, that he was ashamed too haue deliuered it, and I astonied to sée the contents thereof. And as the good Narsetes aunswered the Empresse Sophia, it gréeueth me not of that you haue saide, but of that whiche I must answer,* 1.397 for of necessitie my penne must stand foorthe to make combat with your tong. Your Ladiship doth say in your letter, that you haue séene the letter that I sent vnto youre

husband Iohn of Padilia, and that it dothe well appeare in the same, that it came from a frier, irreguler, foule spoken, ouer∣thwart, absolute and dissolute: and that if I were one of the world, not only I would not dare to wright such things, ney∣ther yet so much as in corners to speake them. Also you do ex∣tréemely charge me that I haue suborned Sir Peter Lasso, disswaded sir Peter Giron, contended with the Bishop of Za∣mora, resorted to Villa Braxima for the Gouernours, that I preache publikely againste the commoners, and that in my mouth there is no truth, nor in my déedes any fidelitie. Also you blame me, charge, condempne, and threaten me for the letter I did write vnto your husbande, and for the counselles and aduertisementes I gaue him: affirming and swearing, that since he had conference with me, he hathe alwayes bene sorowfull, penūue, melancholicke, and also vnfortunate.

Also you note, blame, and charge me, that I neuer cease too lye vnto the gouernours, deceyue the commoners, discou∣rage his men of warre, preach against the commonaltie, pro∣mise that which the King commaundeth not, goe and come to Villa Braxima, and to leade all Castile in suspence. These and such other things are contayned within youre letter vnwor∣thy the writing, and scandalous to recount. But since youre Ladiship hath first laide hand vpon the sword, complaine not if I happen to giue you some wound on the head. To that which your Ladiship sayth (if I were of the world as I am of religion,) I durst not wright suche a letter vnto youre hus∣band, your Ladiship speaketh greate troth: for I being the son of Sir Beltram of Gueuara, and cousin to Sir Ladron of Gue∣uara, and to be there in the worlde, I shoulde not write vnto him but fighte with him: not make pennes, but sharpen the launce: not gyue counsell or perswade your husbande, but de∣fye him: bycause the contention betwixt loyaltie and treason,* 1.398 ought not to be tried with wordes, but with swords. I am in profession a Christian, in habite religious, in doctrine a di∣uine, in linage of Gueuara, in office a preacher, and in opiniō a gentleman and no commoner: for which cause I presume to

preach the troth, and to impugne the communaltie. I holde for sure, that those whiche defende the troth, be the most noblest knights and gentlemen in your Camp: for they rob not vpon high wayes, neyther steale out of Churches, destroy no corne, burne no houses, spoyle no people, neither do consent to men of vile conditions: for they obserue the law, and obey the king. I hold these for rebelles amongst the commoners, Hernando of Aualos that did inuent it, your Ladiship that doth sustayne it, your husbande that dothe defende it, the Bishop of Zamora that doth prosecute it, Sir Peter Giron that doth aucthorize it, Sir Peter Lasso that doth publish it, Sarabia that doth cōmende it, Quintanilla that doth accompany it, Sir Charles of Aurella∣no that doth honor it, and Sir Peter Pimentel that commands it: all whiche know not what they followe, muche lesse what they demaund.

I do well vnderstand that Hernando of Aualos was y^e first that inuented the state of all things in common, and I know that in your house was commaunded and ordeyned, to make conuocation in Auila, and the order to raise all Castile, in such manner, that he made the fier, and your Ladiship did blewe it. A blacke correction was that of Giberaltar, whiche was ta∣ken from Hernando of Aualos. Since it was the cause that hée deceyued you, and you Iohn of Padilla, and Iohn of Padilla Sir Peter Giron, and sir Peter Giron sir Peter Lasso, and Sir Peter Lasso the Abbot of Compludo, and the Abbot of Compludo the Bishop of Zamora, the Bishop of Zamora the Licenciat Barnar∣dine, the Licenciat Barnardine Sarabia, and Sarabia all the rest of the Letany. I haue many times thought, deuised and also enquired, what motion might moue your Ladiship to vowe the alteration of this kingdome: and all youre friendes and kinsfolke do answer, that you haue diuined or else dreamed, to sée your husband master of Saint Iames, which if it be so, is a most certaine great lightnesse, and no smal vanitie: for it may come to passe, that in the place to gyue hym the crosse, they may put him vpon the crosse. If you woulde make your hus∣band Master of Saint Iames, you must take some other order,

and giue him some other coūsel: for so gret a dignitie in times past was not obtayned to the masters thereof by rebellion, (as you that haue raised all Castile) but by fighting valiantly with the Moores in the viage of Granado. In all the common welthes of this world there be friends and enemies, conten∣ted and discontented, prosperous and vnfortunate, and also loyalties and treasons, wherein the one or the other is kno∣wen: the loyall in that they giue themselues to serue, and the traytors to spoyle and rob. Your Ladiship hath to remember that king Iohn is dead, and king Henry gone, they haue cut the throte of the Marshall Peter Pardo, and they haue banished the Iustice Castromino, the Captaine Sapico was drowned in a well; and Fernan Centeno was hanged: in whose miserable times, who could do most had most, but now praise be to God, he that will haue any thing, must not only craue but deserue. If stories doe not deceiue vs, Mamea was proud, Medea was cruell, Martia was enuious, Popilia was vnchast, Mirtha was malicious, and Domitia was rashe: but I haue read of none that hathe bin disloyall and a traytresse, but youre Ladiship that hath denied the fidelitie that you owe, and the bloud from whence you are discended. Your Ladiship descending from a parentage so honorable, of bloud so auncient, of father so vali∣ant, and of linage so noble: I know not what sinnes you haue committed (that it shoulde be your chaunce) to match with a husband of so small discretion, and he to obtaine a wife of so great wisdome. Women naturally were wont to be pitifull, but your Ladiship is cruell, they were wont to be milde, but you are fierce, they were wont to be pacient, but you are qua∣relling, and also they were wont to be cowardes, but you are ouer hardie: in suche wise that to the Duchesse of Vilalua, succéeded the Lady Mary of Padilla. Assiria complayneth of their scandall Semiramis, Damascus for Mithridates,* 1.399 Armenia for Pincia, Grecia for Helena, Germany for Vxodonia, Rome for Agripina, Spaine for Hecuba, and now Castile complayneth not that they are raysed for you, but that you haue raised them. To quiet this Citie of Toledo where you are resident, neither

the commaundementes of the King is sufficiente, neyther the promises of the Gouernours, neither the siege of the Prior Iohn, neyther the threatnings of Sir Iohn de Ribora, neyther the intreatance of the Archbishop of Varry, neither perswasi∣ons of your brothers, neither yet prayers of the monasteries, but that euery day more and more you are fleshed in warre, & lesse friend to peace. Also they report that you haue a sorceresse or rather a foole to your slaue, which is a great witch: and (they say) that she doth affirme and make you beléeue, that ere it be long, you shall be magnified with the title of Grace, and your husband with the title highnesse, in such wise that you stand•• in great hope to succéede the Quéenes Maiestie, and your hus∣band no lesse to succéede the Kings highnesse: which I cannot beléeue, nor lightly will beléeue. But if by chance there be a∣ny thing, beware of the Diuell, and haue no confidence in spirits: for Ioseph did dreame that he shuld be Lord of his bre∣thren, but he dreamed not that they should sell him into Egypt for a slaue. But it may be (considering the Deuill is so skilful and very subtill) he hathe prognosticated vnto you the same that now you hold, the authoritie that your husband now pos∣sesseth, how the king should be absent, and Castile rise and bée in rebellion: but on the other side, he hath hidden frō you how the communaltie shal be defaced, and how your selues shal be cast away. Zorastes that was inuentor of that art of magike, Democritus the Philosopher, Arthenius Captain of the bands, Pompeius Consul of the Romanes, Iulia the daughter of Iulius, and others infinite with them, gaue themselues to speake with Diuels, and to beléeue much in dreames: which (as they beléeued) if they were aliue, would recount vnto vs the great deceypts the Diuell vsed with them here on earthe, and the great torments that they giue them there in hell. I did neuer sée,* 1.400 neyther euer did read mā or womā to beléeue in dreames, vse witchcrafts, deale with Nigromancers, marke or studie in Augurise, practise with Enchantors, & incommende them∣selues to Magisians, that were not holden for light witted, and for euill Christians, for the Diuell with no man holdeth

so straight friendship, to the end to aduise him, but to deceyue him. Also they make report of your Ladiship here, that you entred the vestorie or treasure house of Toledo, to fetche the plate that was there, not to the ende to renew it, but to pay your men of warre. The maner that you vsed in fetching the same hath not séemed here a little gracious, which is, that you entred kneeling, holding vp your hands, couered with blacke,* 1.401 striking your brest, wéeping and sobbing, with two burning torches before you: Oh fortunat theft, oh glorious pillage, oh happie plate, since thou hast deserued to be stolne with so gret deuotion from that holy Churche. Men, when they steale doe feare, and wéepe when they be hanged: the contrary is found in your Ladiship, since you wéepe when you steale, I thinke you will laugh at execution. The Romanes to send a certaine present vnto the God Apollo in Delphos, all the Ladies and women of Rome gaue their collers from their neckes, theyr rings from their fingers, their bracelets from their armes, and also their eare rings from their eares: bycause they helde them better imployed to be giuen to their temples, than to weare them to their owne vses. Madame, God graunt that you be now a better Christian, than you would haue then bin a Romane: since you haue presumed to take the plate from the Church of Toledo, with an euil will would giue your gold to the temple of Apollo. To take from souldiours to giue to the Churche, it passeth: but to take from the Churche to gyue vnto Souldiers, is a thing very slaunderous and intollerable: in such wise as it was great sacriledge to take it from whēce it was taken, and no lesse horrible to giue it where it was gy∣uen. Humbly I beséech your Ladiship to cut off these euilles, leaue that people, open those gates, retire your husband, qui∣et your owne hart, giue witchcraft to the Deuil, and haue pi∣tie on Toledo: for if otherwise the affayres go on, as they haue begonne, we shall not want wherefore to bewayle, and you shall haue to paye.

From Medina del rio secco, the sixtenth of Ianuary .2522.

An Oration made in the towne of Braxima, vnto the Knights and Gentlemen of the assembly, wherein the Author doth request them vnto peace in the name of the King.

MAgnificent and extreme Gentlemen, I doe inuoke and call to witnesse the God that made me, and I do sweare by this holy tem∣ple that in all things that here I intende to speake,* 1.402 my intent is not to defame any man, and lesse to deceyue: bicause the religious ha∣bit wherewith I am clad, and the noble bloud from whence I descend, giue no place that I should be of malicious entrailes, either double in words. Some of those that are here present do very well know my condicion and my conuersation: and also you doe knowe the libertie I vse to take in speaking franckly, and my bold plainnesse in preaching, and in the vse of lying very cold, and in reprehending absolute. Yesterday which was New yeres day, I preached vnto the gouernours, and to all the mightie and noble men of the kingdome that was there with them. And for that I did sharply say what was to be cut off, and in the kingdome to be amended: to day they haue commaunded me to come hither with this letter of credite and of safe conduit, to the ende I shoulde say vnto you wherein you erre, as I saide vnto them wherein they fayled. Also gentlemen I bring with me a large instruction firmed by the Cardinall, the Admirall, and the Constable, in whiche is contayned what worde the King doth sende you, and what they on his behalfe do offer: bycause his writing being séene, and my tale heard, from hencefoorth eyther cruell warre shal be determined, or a generall and godly peace concluded. In sixtéene dayes I haue come hither to conferre with you seuen times: and bycause the gouernours will not any more com∣maund me to come hither, neyther in these affaires farther to trauell, it is necessary that this day we determine, and as friends or enemies to declare our selues: for otherwise being

as you are so neare togither, of necessitie you must strike bat∣tell. I my Masters wil say what I thinke, and also wil speake what is commaunded me, to the ende, that the one and the o∣ther being heard, you may vnderstand what you haue to aun∣swere, and determine what you haue to doe. But first I haue to complaine of your captaine Lares which tooke me, and mis∣vsed me both in word and deede, he knowing very well that a mediator passing from Campe to Camp, in all places is accu∣stomed to go safe. There is no reason that Lares should carrye me taken as a thiefe, and vse me with rudenes as a traytor, for I come in the Kings name, and at the commaundement of the gouernours, to bring peace and to auoyde warre, and be∣sides this, if I were one of the world, he would hold him selfe right happie to be one of my seruants: but leauing this apart, I will recite vnto you what I haue passed, and the hainous mischaunces whereat I haue ben present. Since y^e king hath bene absent, and y^e cōmonaltie raysed, (you may credit me in all that I shall say vnto you, which I haue not deuined either dreamed, but with my eyes haue séen it) you wel know of this your cōmotion the beginner was Harnando of Aualos, the cap∣taine sir Peter Ciron, the generall Iohn of Padilla, the counseller the licenciat Barnardine, the accessary the Doctor Sūiga,* 1.403 the en∣seigne bearer Peter of Mercado, the chaplain the Abbot of Cō∣pludo, and the Metropolitan my Lord bishop of Zamora. I was present in Segouia at the first rising that was in this king∣dome, when vpon the .xxiij. of May on a wednesday after Easter, they pulled out of the Churche of S. Mighell the Ius∣tice Tordisillas, & caried him to the gallowes, where they han∣ged him betwixt two hogges, as Iesus Christ was betwixt two théeues.

I was present also in Auila, when all the procurers of the assembly were ioyned together in y^e vestry of the great Church and there did al sweare to prosecute and die for the seruice of y^e cōmonaltie, (except Antony Ponce & I that would not sweare:) whereupon commmaundement was giuen to pul downe his house, and that I shoulde departe from Auila. Also I was

present in Medina del campo the .xxij. of the moneth of August, on a tewsday in the morning, when Antony of Fons seca came vpon them in the breake of the day with .viij C. launces, and for that they denyed him the kings artillery, he burnt the towne and the monastery of S. Francis.* 1.404 Also I was present there when the Shereman Bobadilla did rise, and others with him, and threw out at the towne hall window, the Iustice Nieto, and slewe Telles the Bookebinder, and forthwith toke the house, placed porters, and entituled him selfe with grace and highnes, as though he had ben presently Lorde of Medina, or that the King of Castile had ben dead. I was present when Valiodolid firste rebelled in burning Medina, and al in armour went the whole night pulling down howses, hauing for their Captaine Vera y^e bit maker. Also I was in Valiodolid whē the Cardinall fledde away by the bridge, the President put him∣selfe into Saint Benets, the Licenciat Vergas skaped out at a window, the Licenciat Sapata we brought forth in Friers ha∣bite vnto Sigales, and the Doctor Gueuara my brother was sent in the name of the Counsell vnto Flaunders: all the other lords of the royall Counsel I did not sée them when they were taken, but I sawe them afterwards prisoners, and nowe I sée them fled, that they neyther dare assemble, or execute iu∣stice. This other day I sawe in Soria where they hanged a Procurer of the citie, béeing poore, sicke, and olde, not bycause he had cōmitted any euill, but for that some did wish him e∣uill. To report vnto you how they haue throwen the Consta∣ble out of Burgos, the Marques of Auia frō Tordisillas, y^e Earle and Countesse of Duneas, and the knights and gentlemen frō Salamanca, and Sir Iames of Mendoza from Palentia, and how in place of these gentlemen they haue taken for their leaders and captaines,* 1.405 bit makers, sheremē, skinners & lockmakers, is no smal shame to recount, and infamy to heare. The hurts, murders, robberies, and scandals, that is nowe committed within this realme, I dare say, that of this so great fault wée al are in fault, bycause our God is so right a iudge, that hée would not permit that all should be chastised, if all were not

offenders. The affairs of this miserable kingdome is come to such a state, y^e through the same there is no way sure, no tēple priuiledged, none that tilleth the fielde, none bringeth vitailes, none y^e executeth iustice, none safe in their houses:* 1.406 yet all con∣fesse a king, and appeale to the king, but the disgrace is, that none doth obserue the law, & none doth obey the King: beleue me, if your people did acknowledge the King, and obserue the law, neyther would they robbe the kingdome, or disobey the King: but for that they haue no feare of the sword, nor doubt of the gallowes, they do what they lust, and not what they ought. I knowe not how you can say, that you wil refourme the kingdome since you obey not the King, you consent to no gouernours, you admit no royall counsell, you suffer no Chan∣celour, you haue no Iudges nor Iustices, no giuing of sentence in matters of lawe, neyther any euill chastised: in such wise, that your iudgemēt to haue no iustice in the kingedome,* 1.407 is to refourme iustice. I can not cōprehende how you wil reforme this kingdome, since by your consent there is no subiect that shall acknowledge a preacher, neither any Nunne that keepes hir cloyster, no Frier that remayneth in his monaste∣ry, neyther womā that obeyeth hir husband, nor vassall that obserueth loyalty, neyther any man that dealeth iustly: in so much that vnder the colour of liberty, euery man liueth at his owne wil. I know not how you will reforme the common welth, since those of your campe do force women, rauish may∣dens, burne villages, spoyle houses: steale whole slockes, cut downe woods, and rob churches, in such wise, that if they leaue any euill vndone, it is not bycause they dare not, but for that they can not. I can not conceiue how you will reforme the common welth, since by your occasion Toledo is risen, Se∣gouia altered, Medina burned, Halaheios besieged, Burgos forti∣fied, Valiodolid immutined, Salamanca stragled, Soria disobedi∣ent, and also Valentia an Apostata. I can not perceiue how you will reforme the common welth, since Naiarza is rebel∣led against the Duke, Dueas against the Earle, Tordisillas a∣gainst the Marques, Chincon against his Lorde, since Auila, Leon, Toro, Zamora, and Salamanca, doe neither more or

lesse than the assembly doth commaund. So may my life pro∣sper as I like of your demaund: which is to weete, y^t the King be not absent out of this Realme, that he maintaine all men in iustice, that he suffer no money to be transported out of the Realme, that he giue his rewardes and offices vnto the na∣tural subiectes of Spaine, that they deuise not any new tributs: and aboue all, that the Offices be not solde, but gyuen to men of most vertue.

These and such other like things you haue licence to craue, and only the King hath authoritie to graunt: but to demaund of princes with the lance, that which they haue to prouide by Iustice, is not the part of good vassalles, but of disloyall ser∣uants, wée well vnderstand that many people of this lande doe complaine of the newe gouernement of Flemmings, and to speake the truth, that fault was not all theirs, but in their small experience, and our much enuie. Further, aduertising that the straungers were not more to bée blamed than our owne countrie men, they knew not the state of things, either what offices to craue, neither how they would be solde, but that they were aduised and also instructed in the skill thereof by the men of our owne nation, in such wise, that if in them there did abound desire of gain, in vs there did excéed the vice of cruell malice. Although Maister Xebes and the rest haue cō∣mitted some fault, I know not that our Spaine hath done any offence,* 1.408 that you should in the same and against the same rayse any warre. The medicine that you haue inuented for the remedie of this mischiefe, is not to purge but to kill. But since you will néedes make war, let vs examine here against whom is this war? not against the king, bycause his tender youth dothe excuse him: not against the Counsell, for they appeare not: not against Xebes, for hée is in Flaunders, not against the Gouernors whiche haue but nowe entred their offices: not against the Gentlemen, who haue not offended: neither yet against tyrantes, for the Kingdome was in peace: than is this war againe your own countrie, and against our own (lamentable) common wealth. The wante of prouidence

in the king, neither the auarice of Xebes is sufficient cause that we should sée that whiche wée doe sée, the people to ryse against people, fathers against the sonnes, the vncles against their cousins, friends against friends, neighbors against ney∣bours, and brothers against brothers: but that our sinne hath so deserued to be chastised, and yours hath merited that you shuld be our scourge. Speaking more particular, you are not able to excuse your faulte, for beginning as you did the assem∣blie of Auila, from which counsell all this warre hath had his féeding, and of a trouth presently I did diuine and also prea∣che that is to witte, y^t neuer was Monipody of any kingdome, whereof did not arise some notable scandall. The kingdom is nowe altered, the kyng is disobeyed, the people are nowe ri∣sen, the hurt is alreadie begon, the fire is alreadye in flame, and the common wealth goeth sinking to the bottom. But in the ende, if it like you, a good end may be made, from whence may procéede all the remedie, for that we haue firmely to be∣léeue, that God will rather heare the hearts that praye for peace, than the fifes and drums that proclaime warre. If it may lyke you to forget some part of your anger, and the go∣uernours to lose some part of their right, I hold it all for fini∣shed. And to speake you the trouth, in popular and ciuil war∣res, men do rather fight for the opinion they haue takē, than for the reason that they hold. My iudgement should be in this case, that you should ioyne with the Gouernours to talke and conferre for the gréeues and things amisse, and to vnderstād for the remedie therof: for by this meanes you should growe to more ripenesse for the things you haue to demaund, and in our king and maister more facilitie in that whiche he shoulde graunt. If it may please you to leaue your armour, and giue faith vnto my words, I sweare by the faith of a Christian, & by this letter of credence y^t I bring with me, do promise you that you shall be pardoned of the king, and well intreated of his gouernors: that you shal neuer for this déed be chastized, neither yet in wordes be blamed or defamed. And bicause it shall not séeme that your zeale hath bin in vaine, and that the

Gouernours doth not desire the common wealth, I will here shew vnto you, what they wil do for the kingdome, and what kindnesse on his Maiesties behalfe they will bestowe vppon you, which is as followeth.

First, they promise you, that at any time whē the kings Ma∣iestie shall be absent from this kingdome, he shall place a Ca∣stilian to gouerne Castile:* 1.409 bicause the authoritie & greatnes of Spaine endureth not the gouernment of straungers. Also they promise you, that all the dignities, holdings, and offices of the kingdome and Court, shall be giuen to Spaniards, and not to straungers: notwithstāding there be many noble personages that haue well deserued and in whome they were well em∣ployed. Also they promise you that the royall rents of the people shall be rated at an indifferent rente, in such wise, that the Cities may haue reasonable gayne, and no greate losse to the king. Also they promise you that if in the regall counsell shal be found any examiner, or any other officer, (although it be the president) vnwise or vnapt for gouernement, and not learned to giue sentence, or not honest of lyfe, that his maie∣stie shall absolue him of his office: notwithstanding they may be affectionate to some, and also offended like other men. Al∣so they promise that from hencefoorth his Maiestie shall com∣maund his Iustices of Court and Chauncery, that they shall not vse their commaundements so absolute, neyther their chastisements so rigorous: notwithstanding that sometimes they be in some things fierce, bycause they may be more fea∣red and also more esteemed. Also they promyse, that from henceforth his Maiestie shall commaunde to reforme his house, and also remoue the excessiue charges thereof: consi∣dering that disordinate expences bryng forth newe tributes. Also they promise you, that for any neede the Kings Maiestie may haue, hée shall not carry, neither yet commaund to be ca∣ried any money out of this kingdome to bée transported into Flaunders, Almayne, or Italy: considering that incontinent, trafficke decayeth in kingdomes where money wanteth. Al∣so they promise that his Maiestie shall not permitte from

henceforth, Biscay Iron, Alum of Murcia, Vitailes of Andolo∣zia, nor Sackes of Burgos, to be laden in straunge botoms, but in shippes of Biscay and Galizia, to the ende that straungers shall not robbe, and our Countrey men to gayne whereby to eate. Also they promise that his Maiestie shall not permit to be gyuen from henceforth, fortresse, Castell, bridge, gate, or towne, but vnto Gentlemen plaine and curteous, and not vn∣to Gentlemen or Knights of power, which in reuolting times may rise with the same: considering that in the ancient times none might haue Artilery or Fortresse, but the King in Ca∣stile. Also they do promise you, that from henceforth his Ma∣iestie shall not permitte licences to cary corne into Portingall, neyther from Mancha to Valentia: consideryng that many tymes to haue licence to transport thither, is here amongst ourselues cause of greate dearth. Also with all breuitie his Maiestie wil commaund the contentions and matters in law to be examined and considered, that haue bene continued be∣twixt Toledo, and the Earle of Velalcassar, and Segonia, and sir Fernando Chichon, and of Iaen with the towne of Martos, and Valiodolid with Simancas, and that of sir Peter Giron with the Duke of Medina: considring that those in possession do delay, and the dispossessed complaine. Also they promise, that the King will commaund to reforme the excesses, giue lawe for banquets, reforme Monasteries, visit Chanceries, repayre sorts, and fortifie all the frontiers: considering that in all these things there is necessitie of reformation and also of cor∣rection. If you my Masters bée suche as you publishe your selfe throughout Castile, whiche is to witte: that you bée the redéemers of the Common wealth, and the restorers of the libertie of Castile: behold here wée offer you the redem∣ption, and also the resurrection thereof, bycause so many and so good thinges as these are, neyther did you remember to demaunde, eyther woulde presume to craue: nowe is the houre come wherein of necessitie it muste bée mani∣fested, whither you speake and meane one thing. For if yée desire the generall wealth now is it offred you, and if you

pretend your particuler interest, it may not be graunted you: for speaking the troth it is not iust, but most vniust, that with the sweate of the poore common wealth you shoulde séeke to amend the state of your owne houses. But let it be for cōclu∣sion since we be here in the Churche of the towne of Braxima, of my part I do humbly beséeche you vppon my knées, and in the behalfe of the gouernours I doe request you,* 1.410 and on the Kings name I commaund you to leaue your armour, to dis∣camp your camp, and to vnfortifie Tordisillas: if not, I iustifie this offer for the gouernours, that all the euils, mischieues, and slaughters that hereafter shall happen in this kingdome be vpon the charge of your soules, and not vpon the burden of their conscience.

As I knéeled downe at the speaking of these last wordes, forthwith came vnto me Alonso of Quintanilla and Sarabia, bare headed and with great courtesie, did help me to rise and forced me to sitte downe. During the time I didde speake all that is aforesaid, it was a thing to looke vpon, and worthy con∣sideration: how some of them did behold me, some did stampe, some did eye me, and also some did mocke me: but I neuer the more did leaue to note, either stay to speake. After I had fini∣shed my Oration, they all with one voice said and desired the Bishop of Zamora to speake his iudgemente, and that after∣wards they would all sée what were conuenient to be done. Forthwith the Bishop toke me by the hand & in the name of thē all, he said vnto me: Father frier Antony of Gueuara, thou hast spoken sufficiently, and also for the authoritie of thy ha∣bite as a man ouer rash, but for that thou art a yong man and of small experience, neither knowest thou what thou spea∣kest, eyther vnderstandest thou what thou demaundest, ey∣ther wast thou made a Frier being a boy, or else thou art an∣grie, or knowest little of this worlde, or thou wantest iudge∣ment: since thou presumest to speak, & such things wouldest make vs beleue: but thou father (being stayd within thy mo∣nasterie) knowest not of tirānies whiche they execute in the kingdom, & that which the knights & noble mē hath tirānised

of the reall patrimonie, for whiche cause,* 1.411 thy entent shall be receyued, although thy wordes not beléeued. I haue heard say, that thou arte rashe in thy spéeche, and sharpe in repre∣hending, and ioyntly therewith I did beléeue (since the Go∣uernours had thée in their cōpany) that thou hadst a good zele and no want of iudgemente, but since they suffer they foolishe∣nesse, it is not much that we endure thy wordes. God hathe bin thy good Lord that none of the captains of the warre hath bin present, for according to thy disordred talke whiche thou hast vsed, they woulde firste haue taken away thy life before thou mightst haue finished thy tale, & then it might be in oure hands to be sory, but not to remedie.* 1.412 When some other daye thou shalt talk in the presence of so great authoritie & grauitie as these are which be present, thou oughtest to be in that thou shalt say very moderat, & in y^e maner of thy spéech very much measured, bycause thy spéeche hath bin rather to scandalize than to mitigate vs, for that thou pretendest to condemne vs and discharge the gouernours: and since we be but Captai∣nes to execute and not iudges to determine: it is conuenient that thou giuest vs by writing firmed with thy hande al that thou hast sayd, and promised on the Kings behalfe: that wée maye sende it to the Gentlemen of the holie assemblie, and there they shall sée what they haue to commaunde vs, and to answere to thy ambassage: presently they sente a post to Tor∣disillas, (for there was the assemblie) with the credence that I brought, and with the talke I had vsed, whiche gaue for an∣swere, that so colde a message, and suche disordred talk deser∣ueth no other answere but to be wel reprehended, & also gre∣uously punished. Presently they commaunded me to departe from the towne of Braxima without any letter, neyther any worde that I should say to the gouernors: except this Bishop y^t said vnto me, Father Gueuara fare you wel, & beware you come not againe, for if you do, you shal returne no more: and say vnto your gouernours, that if they haue authoritie from the king to promise much, their cōmission extendeth to per∣forme very little. This done and said, I returned to Medina

del rio Secco euill vsed, and worse answered, and from thence after I had spoken & the Bishop aunswered me, warres was determined, and peace neuer more spoken of. It was no small griefe vnto Sir Peter Giron and Sir Peter Lasso of the foule wordes they vsed with me, and of the euill aunswere their fe∣lowship gaue me, for surely they would right gladly haue ben reduced to the Kings seruice, and that peace should haue bene established. Sir Peter Giron met me vpon the way when I retorned, and there conferred vpon such and so delicate things, whereof did rise that he retired from the Campe to Villalpan∣dos, and that the gouernours should marche vnto Tordisillas, & so it was brought to passe. By that iourney the Queene was deliuered, and they of the assembly taken.

A letter vnto Doctor Melgar Phisicion, wherein is touched (by great eloquence) the hurtes and profites that Phisicions commit.

RIght reuerent Doctor & Caesars Phi∣sicion, I haue receyued your letter, and the receipt that came therein: & whether I did speake or not speake vnto the President in your case, you may vnderstand by the dispatch ther∣of, & by the report of your seruant: in suche wise, that you haue performed with me like a Phisicion, and I with you like a friend. And whether you or I haue done best, it is to wit, you in curing of me, or I in dispatching of you, let good mē sée & iudge, since I remaine with my gowte, & you haue obtay∣ned good deliuerance. Sir I commaunded those hearbes to be sought, & the rootes to be gathered: and according to the tune of your billet, I haue gathered, stampt & dranke them, and God giue your soule better health, than they did profite mee any thing for my goute, for they did inflame my liuer, & too much coole my stomacke. I wil confesse vnto you that as in this my disease you did not onely erre, but also you did hurt me: euery

time, that with the cold my stomacke beginneth to belke,* 1.413 pre∣sently I say, a shame beshine Doctor Melgar, since my disease was not aboue the girdle, but from the thigh downewards, I did not craue that you should purge the humors, but deliuer me from payne, I know not why you should chastise my sto∣macke, my foote making the offence? I cōmoned with Doctor Sotto here in Toledo, as cōcerning a Sciatica I had in my thigh, & he cōmanded to be giuē vnto me two Cautories with an bote instrument behind the eares, & the profite I gathered thereof was, he gaue all the Court occasion to laugh, and mine eares to endure great paine. And in Alcala I cōmoned with Doctor Cartagema, and he did ordayne me a certaine receit wherein was contained the gal of an Ox, the ordure of a Rat, the bran of Otes, the leaues of nettles, the buddes of Roses, and Scor∣pions fried, to make a plaister to be layd vnto my thigh: The profite and greate ease I gathered thereof was, it kepte mée from sléepe thrée nights, and I payde to the Apoticary that made it ten grotes: but from henceforth I renounce the coun∣selles of suche counsellers, the Aphorismos of Ipochras,* 1.414 the fines or conclusions of Auicene, the cases of Ficino, the compo∣sitions of Rasis, and also the Canons of Erophilo, if in their writings that wretched and cursed playster be to bée found, which as it did not suffer me to sléepe, much lesse to take any rest, I did not only take it away but also buried it, for that it did not onely stincke most filthily, but burned mée most grie∣uously. I remember that in Borgos Anno 21. Doctor Sotto cu∣red me of a certaine wandring feuer, made me eate so muche Apium, take so much Barley water, and drinke so much stild Endiue, that I fel into such a thirst, that only I could not eat, neither so much as to abide y^t fauor of meat. Not many yéeres after I wēt to visit the same Doctor Sotto being sicke in Tor∣disillas, and saw him eat an Orange, & drinke a cup of fragrant white wine after the cold had left him, and the heat began to come vpon him. Wherfore I did not a little maruel, and half offended I sayde vnto him laughing: tell mée Master Doctor in what lawe is it contayned, or what Iustice doth suffer it,

that you cure your selfe of your Ague with wyne of S. Martin, and on the other side you cure my Sciatica with dung of oxen? Whervnto graciously he made me answere, your Lordship (Master Gueuara) hath to vnderstand, that our maister Ipo∣chras hath giuen commaundement to all Physitions his suc∣cessors, that vpon paine of his malediction we shoulde cure our selues with wine, and our pacientes with stilled water. Although Doctor Soto tolde me this tale in iest,* 1.415 I did firmly beléeue it, bicause you Master Doctor did once saye vnto mée in Madrid, that in all the days of your life, you neuer receiued compound purgation, either proued the fast of stilled water. Ther is no arte in this world that makes me lose the stirops (or to say better) my wits, but the maner that Physitions do vse to cure: For wée sée them desirous to cure, and enimies to be cured. And bicause Master Doctor you write vnto me, also you sweare and coniure me, by the desire I wishe to the welfare of my father, that I write vnto you, what is my iud∣gement of Physike, and what I haue read of the inuenters birth & and first rising thereof. I will performe your request, although it be more than others would wish, for it is a mat∣ter that the wise Physitions will delight in, but wherefore the foolish will giue both you and me to the diuell.

Of the moste auncient inuenters of Phy∣sike and medicine.

IF Plinie doe not deceyue vs, there is no arte of the seuen liberall Artes, wherein there is practised lesse trouth, and whiche hath passed more mutabilitie than the Arte of Medicine. Bicause there hath not bin kingdom, people, either notable natiō in this world, wher she hath not bin re∣ceiued, and after entertaynment, againe throwne out of the same.* 1.416 For if as she is a medicine, she were a man, immesura∣ble wer the trauels that she wold report that she had suffred, and many and very many are the kingdoms that she hath

traueled, and prouinces that she hath wandred, not bycause they neglected to be cured, but for that they helde Phisitions suspitious & to be doubted. The first that amongst y^e Greekes found the art of curing, was the Philosopher Apollo, and hys Sonne Aesculapius, which for being so famous in Phisicke,* 1.417 they concurred vnto him, as vnto an Oracle throughout all Grecia, but the chaunce was thus. This Aesculapius was but a yong man, and by greate mischaunce was slayne with light∣ning. And as he left no disciple that knew his secretes, neither that could make his medcines, the master and the Art of med∣cine ioyntly did perish. Four hundred and forty yeres was the Art of Phisicke lost, in suche wise,* 1.418 that in all the worlde there was not a man founde that did cure publikely, or was called Phisition: for so many yeares passed from the time that Escu∣lupius died, vntill the birth of Arthaxerxes the second, in whose time Ipochras was borne, Strabo, Diodoro, & also Plini maketh mention of a woman of Grecia, that in those most aunciente times did florish in the art of Phisicke, of whome they recite so many mōstrous things and so incredible, that to my iudge∣mēt they be al, or the more part of thē fayned: for if they shuld be true, it séemed rather that she raysed the dead, than cured the sicke. In these days there did rise in the prouince of Achaia an other womā, that began to cure with psalmes and words, without applying any medcine simple or compound: whyche being knowne in Athens, was condemned by decrée of the Se∣nate to be stoned to death: saying, that the Gods, neyther na∣ture, had giuen remedies for sicknesse in words, but in herbes and stones. In the dayes that they had no phisitions in Asia, the Gréekes held for custome when any man had made expe∣riēce of a medcine, and did heale with the same, he was bound to write it in a table, and to hang it vp in the temple of Diana, that was at Ephesus: for that in the like case any other might vse the same remedy. Trogos, Laertios and also Lactantius saith, that the cause whereby the Gréekes did sustayne themselues so long time without Phisitions was,* 1.419 that in May they dyd gather swéete herbes whiche they kept in their houses: they

were let bloud once in the yeare, did bath once euery monthe, and also they did eate but once a day.

Conformable to this Plutarch doth say, that Plato being de∣maunded by the philosophers of Athens, if he had seene any no∣table thing in Tinacria, which is now called Sicilia, made aun∣swer, vidi monstrum in natura, bominem bis saturum in die, whiche is to say, I did see a monster in mās nature which did fill or féede himselfe twice in one day: he sayde thus by Dionysius the ty∣rant, which was the first that inuented to eate at noone, and afterwards to suppe at night: for in the olde worlds they did vse to suppe but not to dine. I haue curiously considered, and in great varietie of bookes I haue sought, and that whiche I found in this case is, that all the nations of this world did eate at night, and onely the Hebrewes did féede at none: but follo∣wing our intent, it is to vnderstand, that the temple most e∣stéemed in all Asia, was the Temple of Diana: the one cause was, for that it was stately of buildings, another, for that it was serued with many Priests, but the most principall cause was, for that the tables of Medicines were hanged there, to cure the diseased. Strabo sayeth, that eleuen yeares after the battells of y^e Peloponenses,* 1.420 the great Philosopher Ipochras was borne in a little Iland named Coe, in whiche also were borne those glorious personages Licurgus and Brias, the one Cap∣tayne of the Athenians, and the other Prince of the Lacedemo∣nians Of this Ipochras it is written, that he was of small sta∣ture, somewhat poare blind, with a great head, of much silēce, paynefull in study, and aboue all, of a high and delicate iudge∣ment. From xviij. yeares vnto thirtie fiue, Ipochras continued in the scholes of Athenes studying Philosophie and reading, and notwithstanding that in his time many Philosophers did flourish, he was more famouse, renoumed, and estéemed, than all the rest. After that Ipochras departed from the studies of A∣thenes, he wandred throughout diuers kingdomes and prouin∣ces, inquiring and searching of all men and women, what they did knowe of the properties and vertues of herbes and planets, and what experience they had seene of them. At which

things he did write and incommend vnto his memorie. Also Ipochras did search with most great diligence for other bookes of Phisick, written by any other auncient Philosophers,* 1.421 and it is sayd that he found some written bookes, in whyche theyr authours had written no medcine that they had made, but such as they had séene made.

Of the Kingdomes and Prouinces where Phisitions were banished.

TWelue yeares Ipochras did trauell in this pe∣regrination, after which time he retired vn∣to the temple of Diana that was in Ephesus, and translated al the tables of medcines, and experiments that were there preserued ma∣ny yeares, he put in order all that was before confused, and added many things that he had founde out, and other things that he had experimented. This Philosopher I∣pochras, is Prince of all Phisitions in the world, for he was y^e first that tooke penne to write and to put Phisicke in order.

Also it is sayd of him, y^t he neuer made error in that he prog∣nosticated, either in any disease he tooke in cure. Ipochras dyd giue counsel to Phisitions, that they should neuer take in hād to cure anye disordered patient, and did counsell the sicke to shunne the vnfortunate Phisition: for (sayth he) he that cureth may not erre, where the patient is of good gouernment, and the Phisition fortunate.

The Philosopher Ipochras being dead, for that his disciples began to cure, or to say more truly, to kill many sicke people of Grecia, (for that y^e science was very new, and the experiēce muche lesse) it was commaunded by the Senate of Athenes,* 1.422 not only that they shoulde not cure, but also depart out of all Grecia. After that the disciples of Ipochras were thrust out of Grecia, the art of Phisicke was banished and forgotten an hū∣dred and thréescore yeres, so as none durst to learn, and much lesse to teache the same: for the Gréekes had their Ipochras in suche estimation, that they affirmed that Phisicke was borne

and buried with him. Those hundred and thréescore yéeres be∣ing past, another Philosopher and phisition was borne named Chrisippus, in the kingdome of the Sicionians, whiche was as renoumed amongst the Argiues, as Ipochras amonst the Athe∣nians. This Philosopher Chrisippus, although he were very well learned in Phisicke, and very fortunate in the experi∣ence thereof, of the other part he was much opinionatiue and of presuming iudgement: for all the time of his life & lecture, and in all his bookes that he did write, his purpose was none other, but to impugne Ipochras in all that he had said, and only to proue most true that which he affirmed, in suche wise, that he was the first Phisition that pulled medicine out of reason, and put it in opinion. The Philosopher Chrisippus being dead, there was great alteration amongst the Gréekes, whiche of the two doctrines they should follow, whiche is to wit, that of Ipochras or of Chrisippus, and in the end it was determined that neither the one should be followed, or the other admitted: for they sayd,* 1.423 that neyther life nor honor ought to be put in dispu∣tation. After this the Gréekes remayned an other hundred yeres without Phisition, vntill the time of one Aristrato a phi∣losopher which did rise amōgst them. He was cosin to y^e great philosopher Aristotle, and was residēt in the kingdome of Ma∣cedonia, where he of new did exalt the art of Phisicke, not for that he was more learned than his predecessours, but for that he was more fortunate than all the rest. This Aristrato reco∣uered fame by curing king Antiochus the firste, of a certayne disease of the lights, in reward whereof the yong prince his son that was named Ptholemus did giue a thousande Talents of siluer,* 1.424 and a cup of golde, in such wise, that he wan honor tho∣roughout all Asia, and ritches for his house. This Philosopher Aristrato, was he that most defamed the art of Phisicke, by∣cause he was the first that set Phisicke asale and begā to cure for money, for vntill this time all phisitions did cure, some for friendship, and some for charitie. The Phisition Aristratus be∣ing dead, ther succéeded him certaine his disciples, more coue∣tous than wise: which for that they gaue thēselues to be more handsome

men of their money, than to cure diseases,* 1.425 they were com∣maunded by the Senat of Athens, that they should not pre∣sume to teach phisicke, much lesse to cure any person.

Of other trauels that Phisick did passe.

ANother hundred yeres in Asia was phisick forgotten, till the time that Euperices was raysed in the kingdome of Tinacria, but for that he and another Phisition did vary vpon the curing of King Crisippus (the which at that time raigned in that Ile) it was determined by those of the kingdome,* 1.426 that they should only cure with simple medicines, and not pre∣sume to mixe or make compositiōs. Long time the kingdome of Sicill continued, and also the greater part of Asia, without the knowledge of the art of medicine, vntill the time that in the Ile of Rhodes there remayned a certain notable phisition and philosopher named Herosilo, a man that was in his time very learned in phisick, and very skilfull in Astrology, Ma∣ny do say that this Herosilus was master to Ptolomeus, and others say y^t he was not, but his disciple: but be it as be may, he lefte many bookes written of Astrology, and taught many scholers also. This Herosilus held opinion, that the pulse of the patient ought not to be taken in the arme, but in the tem∣ples, saying: that there neuer wanted that, which in the arme was sometime hidden. This phisition Herosilus was of suche authoritie amongest the Rhodians, that they held this opinion, to take the poulse in the temples, all the dayes of his life, and also the liues of his scholers, who with his scholers being all dead, the opinion tooke an end, although it were not forgotten. Herosilus béeing deade, the Rhodians would ne∣uer more bée cured, neither admit any other phisition in their countrie: the one cause, was not to offend the authority of their philosopher Herosilus: and the other, for that natural∣ly they were enimies vnto straunge people, and also no friendes of newe opinions. This being past, phisicke fell a∣sléepe other .iiij. score yeres, as wel in Asia as in Europa, vntill

the great philosopher & phisition Asclepiades was raysed in y^e Ilande Mitiline: A man sufficiently well learned, and most ex∣cellent in curing. This Asclepiades helde opinion, that the pulse ought not to be sought in the arme (as nowe they seeke) but in the temples, or in the nose. This opinion was not so farre besides reason, but that long time after him, the phi∣sitions of Rome and also of Asia did entertaine the same. In all these times it was not read that any phisition was borne in Rome, or came into Italy: for the Romanes were the last of this world that did entertaine Clockes, Iesters, Barbars, & Phisitions.* 1.427 Foure hundred. iij. yeares and ten months, the great city of Rome did passe, without the entertayning of any Phisition or Chirurgian. The first that hath ben read to haue entred Rome, was one that was named Antony Musa, a Greeke borne, and in science a Phisition. The cause of his comming thither was, the disease of Sciatica, that the Emperor Augustus had in his thigh: the which when Antony Musa had cured, and therof wholy deliuered him, in remuneration of so great a benefite, the Romanes did erect vnto him a picture of Porphiry in the fielde of Mars, and farther and besides this, did giue him priuiledge of citizen of Rome. Antony Musa had ga∣thered excéeding great riches, & also obtained the renoume of a great Philosopher, if with the same he could haue bene con∣tented, and not to haue excéeded his Art of phisick: but this was the chance of his sorrowfull fate. Giuing him selfe to cure by Chirurgery, as also by medicine, it is some time necessary in that Art to cut of féete, or fingers, and to make incisions: the Romanes being not vsed to behold such cruelties, and to suf∣fer so intolerable grieues, in one day and in one houre they stoned him to death, & drew him al abouts in the streates. Frō the time they stoned this miserable Antony Musa, they cōsen∣ted not to haue any Phisition or Chirurgian in all Italy,* 1.428 vntill the time of the wicked Emperour Nero, which at his returne from Grecia, brought vnto Rome many phisitions, and also many vices. In the times of the Empire of Nero, Galba, Octo, and Bitello, phisicke did much florish in Italy, and the phisiti∣ons

did greatly triumph in Rome: but after the death of these Princes, the good Emperour Titus commaunded the Orators and also the phisitions to be driuen out of Rome. The Em∣perour Titus béeing demaunded why hée did banish them,* 1.429 since the one were aduocates for matters in lawe, and the o∣ther did cure the diseased? he made answer: I banish the Ora∣tors, as destroyers of the customes, and also phisitions as eni∣•••••••• to health. And more he said, I do also banish the phisitions to take away the occasions from men that be vicious, for that we sée by experience, in the Cities where phisitions be resident, there is alwaies abundance of vices.

A letter written from Grecia to Rome, wishing them to be∣ware of the Phisitions that were come thither.

THE great Cato of Vtica was no small enimie to all phisitions of this worlde, specially that they should not enter within the Empire of Rome,* 1.430 who from Asia did write a letter vnto his sonne Marcellus that was in Rome, after this maner. In thée and in me it appeareth most clearely, that more is the loue that y^e Father beareth vn∣to the son, than y^e son vnto the father: since thou forgettest thy self to write vnto me, neither yet to prouide for defence of thy necessities. If thou wilt not write vnto me as to thy father, write vnto me as vnto thy friend: not withstanding it is much more which thou owest vnto my hoare haires, and also vnto my good & friendly works. As concerning y^e rest, my son Mar∣cellus, thou knowest that I haue ben resident a Consull here in Asia fiue yeres, of which the most time I haue continued here in Athens, where al Grecia do hold their notable studies of their renowmed Philosophers, and if thou wilt vnderstand what I conceiue of these Greekes, it is, they speake much and performe little, they call all men barbarous, and onely them∣selues Philosophers: and the worst of all is, they be ready friends to giue counsell vnto al men, & enimies to accept the

same, iniuries they know to dissemble, but neuer to pardon: they be very constant in hatred, and very mutable in loue and friendship. Finally my son Marcellus I say vnto thée, that naturally, they be proud to commaund, and vntamable to ser∣uice. Behold here what in Grecia the Philosophers do reade and teach, and what the popular people do learne: and if I do write vnto thée, it is, for that thou shalt not paine thy selfe to come into Grecia, neither to passe thy thought to leaue Italy. Since thou knowst and also dost vnderstand, that the grauitie of our Mother Rome, neither may suffer youthly wantonnes, neither admit nouelties. That day that the fathers of our sacred Senate shall permit the Artes and letters of Grecia to enter Rome, from that day I hold our common wealth as lost: for our Romanes do esteme and make accompt to liue well, and the Greekes but only to speak well. In those kingdomes and Cities where schooles and studies be wel ordred, and on y^e other part their common wealthes euill gouerned, notwith∣standing we sée them florish, very shortely we shall sée them famish, for there is not in al this whole world any thing that iustly may be termed perpetuall, but that which vpon troth and vertue is founded. Although al the arts of Grecia be suspi∣cious, pernicious & scandalous, yet I say to thée my son Mar∣cellus, for the commonwealth of our Mother Rome, the worst of them all is phisicke, for that all these Greekes haue sworne to send to kill by medicine those which they might not ouer∣come by armes. Euery day I sée here these phisick Philoso∣phers holde amongst themselues great altercations, about the curing of infirmities and the applying of certaine medicines: and that whiche is most to be wondred, that doing what the one commaundeth, and the other counselleth, we sée the pati∣ent cruelly tormented, and sometimes finish his dayes: in such wise, that their question riseth, not how they shall cure him but how with medicines they may kill him. My son Marcel∣lus, thou shalt aduise the fathers of the Senat, if they bring thi∣ther vj. phisicke philosophers which be departed hence out of Grecia, that they suffer them not to read or teache phisicke,

either to cure in the common welth: bycause this art of me∣dicine is so perillous to be exercised, and so delicate to be vn∣derstoode, that there be many that do learne, and very few that do know it.

Of seauen notable benefites that proceedeth from the good Phisition.

BEhold here maister Doctor, the beginning of your Phisick declared, and how it was found, how it was compiled, how it was loste, how it was banished, how it was receiued, and also how sorowfully she went wandring from common welth to common welth. Master Doctor, by your letter you also craue of me, that I write vnto you, not onely what I haue read of Phisick, but also my iudgment therof: whiche I will accomplish to do you pleasure, and also for that it may * 1.431expand_less be seene, how much profite riseth from the good Phisition, and what hurtes from the euill. Medicine is to be praised, bycause the maker of all things did create the same for the remedie of his creatures, giuing vertue to waters, plantes, herbs, stones, & also in wordes, to the end that with all these things men should be cured, and with their health serue him.* 1.432 God is much 〈…〉〈…〉ed with the pacience which the sicke manne vseth, but much more with the pacience, charitie, and hospitalitie that the whole and sound man performeth. It is a thing reli∣gious and also necessary to procure bodily health, and to serue God, for if the sicke man haue good desires: his workes bée weake, but he that is whole, sound, and vertuous, hath good desires and excellent, and also notable workes.

Medicine is to be praised, when it is in the handes of a Phi¦sition that is learned, graue, wise, stayed, and of experience: for such a Phisition with his science shal vnderstand the in∣firmitie, with his wisdome séeke his medicine, and with his great experience what and when to imploy the same.

Medicine is to be praised, when the Phisition vseth not the same but in sharpe diseases that be very perillous: which

is to wit, for the Pluresy, Squinancy, inflamation, sharpe Fe∣uer, or Apoplexie: bycause in cases so daungerous, and in perils so perillous, all thinges for health is to be prouided, and the Phisition in all things to be credited.

Phisick is to be praised, when the Phisition is so wise, that he doth heate a great repletion or heat of bloud, by washing the megrim with a fume, a griefe of the stomake with a sac∣ket: a heate of the liuer with an oyntment: bleared eyes with colde water: a constupation of the belly with a Glister: and a plaine Feuer with good diet.

Phisicke is to be praised, when I shal sée the Phisition that cureth, profite more with simple medcines that nature hath created, than with compoundes which Ipochras hath inuented•• in such wise, that hauing power to cure me with cleare water, he force me not to drinke stilled Endiue.

Medicine is to be praised, when the phisition is expert, that knoweth the times to be considered in a sicke man, that is to wet: when they haue their beginning, increasing, and also their declinations, ordering the rule and remedie according to the disease and the estate therof trauelling to know the com∣plexion of his pacient, inquiring his estate past, and iud∣ging aforehand what may happen in time to come, giuing or∣der for the case present, alwaies hauing regard to the strength and puissance of the pacient.

Phisick is commendable, when the phisition séeth a sicke man in great perill, and stricken with a doubtfull sicknes, doth delite that they shal call an other vnto him, (and more if the pacient desire) vpō such condiciō, that euery one of thē do giue themselues to studie & to consult for the recouering of health, & not that they prepare to argue and contend. The phi∣sition that with these conditions doth vse to cure, we may safely call and put our trust in him, and also with our purses pay him: bycause the effect of phisicke consisteth to haue ability to vnderstand the griefe, and experience to minister.

Of nine pernicious euilles that Phisitions doe commit.

I Lament me vnto you Maister Doctor of ma∣ny filthy Phisitions, idiotes, rashe, and vnex∣pert, y^t which hauing heard a little of Auicene, or for that they haue bene residēt at Gadulupe, or seruauntes to the Quéenes Doctor, they transporteth mselues to the vniuersitie of Merida, or else with a rescript from Rome, they take degrée of Bachelers, Licenti∣ates, and Doctors, of whō the olde prouerbe may iustly take place, which saith, Phisitions of Valence, long robes and small science.

I complayne me vnto you Maister Doctor of many com∣mon phisitions and inexpert, the whiche if they take in hand any straunge or perillous diseases, after they haue purged the sorowfull patient, let him bloud, oynted, & giuen him Sirope, they know not to apply any other remedie, either practise any other experience, but to commaunde him after supper to re∣ceiue a culesse prepared, and in the mornings tisan clarifyed.

I complaine me vnto you maister Doctor, of many yong and childish phisitions, and without iudgement, which to an ague that is simple, ordinarie, common, not furious, neither daungerous, they make their receiptes as large and déepe frō the Apoticarie, as if it were an inflamed pestilence, in suche wise, that it shall be lesse hurt vnto the sorowfull patient to endure the euill he possesseth, than to abide the remedy that such prouide.

I complaine me vnto you, maister Doctor, of many of your companions that presume of learning, and (of trouth they be no fooles) which doe neuer cure vs with simple medicines, either doe minister vnto vs that which is plain, gentle and not furious: but to giue vs to vnderstand, that they knowe that which others knowe not, they make their receipts of things so straunge and out of vse, that at the presēt they be very difficill to bee founde, and afterwardes more difficult to be receyued.

I complayne me vnto you maister Doctor, of many of your seruantes and doltish batchelers, in consideration y^t a•…•… infirmi∣ties hauing their chreticke or determinatiue dayes, going frō day to day making their course, that they haue no care to consider therof, and much lesse to recken on what daye the disease began, either the houre wherein the accesse did firste offend, to behold whether the disease goeth increasing or dimi∣nishing: bycause to applie or minister a medcine in one howre, or in an other, there dependeth no more but the life of the man.

I complaine me vnto you maister Doctor, that generally all you that be Phisitions, doe wish eche other euill, being dif∣ferent in condition, and contrary in opinions, wherein it ap∣peareth most cleare, that some follow Ipochras, some Auicen, some Galen, some Rasis, some the Counseller, some Ficine, and other some none at al, but their owne iudgemēt, & that which is most to be lamented, is, that all the mischief lieth not but vpon the sorrowfull patient, bycause at the time you should cure him, you giue your selues to disputing.

I complayne me vnto you maister Doctor, of many phisi∣tions that be childish in age, new in office, rude in iudgemēt, and not well stayed in their wittes, which in any experience that they haue séene, read, or heard, be it neuer so difficult to be done, or perillous to take, presently they commaunde it to be perfourmed, although it be not requisit but hurtful to the dis∣ease, wherof ryseth many tymes that one foolish experience doth cost the sick mans life.

I complayne me vnto you, and also of you mayster Doctor, that generally all you Phisitions doe make your receites for such things as you commaunde vs to take, in darke latin, in blind cypherings, and in termes vnused, with great and large receyptes, which I know not wherefore nor to to what ende you vse it for if it be euill that you commaund, you ought not to doe it, and if it be good, let vs vnderstande it: for that wée, and not you, must take them, and also paye the Apoticarie for them.

The Authors iudgement of Phisick.

BEhold here master Doctor delicately touched, not onely the commodities that good Phisitions do performe, but also the great hurts that the euill Phisitions do commit. And to saye the troth for my part I do beléeue it, that notwithstanding my complayntes be many, your faults be much more: since to the cost of our liues you winne greate fame, and obtayne greate wealth.* 1.433 With the rule and Lordship of the Phisition no mā may compare, for at the instant they enter our dore, we do not only put thē in trust with our persons, but also we part with them our substance, in such wise that if the barber draw foorth three ounces from the vaine of the head, they draw foorth ten from the vayne of the chest. After the charitable exercise of almes giuing, ther is nothing better imployed thā that which is giuen to the Phisition that hapneth to performe hys cure, & on the other part, there is nothing in this world so euill spent, as that whiche the Phisition getteth that erreth in his cure, which doth deserue not only to be vnpayde, but also for y^e same to be well chastised. It was a law much vsed, and also a long time obserued amongst the Gothes,* 1.434 that the sick man and the Phisition betwixt them made bargayne, the one to cure, and the other to pay, and if by chaunce he did not cure according to his promise and band: in such a case the law commanded that the Phisition shoulde lose the trauell of his cure, and also pay the Apoticary. I assure you Master Doctor that if this lawe of the Gothes were obserued in these oure dayes, that you and your companions would giue your selues more to study, and would be better aduised in the things you shuld take in hand, but for that you be very well payd whether the pacient be cu∣red or not cured, and if ye happen to performe the cure, you at∣tribute the glory vnto your selues, but if not, you lay all the fault in the poore pacient. This appeareth most cleare, for cō∣monly you charge the pacient that either he is a glutton, drin∣keth much water, eateth much frute, sléepes at noone, doth not receyue that he is commaunded, takes too much ayre, or doth

not endure to sweate: in such wise that the sorowfull pacient which they cannot cure, they do not forget to defame. It sée∣meth not a little gracious vnto me, that which your Ipochras affirmeth, whiche is, that the Phisition is not to be estéemed, that of himselfe is not well fortunate: whereof we may inferre that all our lift and health doth depende not in your medcines that you minister vnto vs, but in the fortune good or bad, that the Phisition holdeth. He séemeth to haue small confidence in Phisicke, that durst publish such a sentence: for if we stay our selues by this rule of Ipochras,* 1.435 we must flie the wise Phisition that is ill fortunate, and séeke to be cured with him that is vn∣wise and fortunate. In the yere of xviij. I being sick in Osor∣uillo, whiche is neare vnto your house of Melgar, comming to visite me, you sayd that I had to consider, for that you had kil∣led Sir Ladron mine Vncle, Sir Beltram my Father, Sir Iames my cosyn, and the Lady Ynes my Sister, and that if I had a mind to enter into that brotherhood, you would rather vnder∣take to kill me, than to cure me: although Master Doctor you spake it in iest, yet in déede it was most true: for whiche cause since I heard you speake it, and read that rule of Ipochras, I determined in my heart neuer more to offer my pulse, neither incommend my health vnto your counsell, bycause in my li∣nage of Gueuara your medcine is vnfortunate. Of many fa∣mous phisitiōs I haue séene performed diuers famous cures, and of many foolish Phisitions, I haue séene brought to passe many and great doltish follies. I speak it for this cause master Doctor, for in the hands of the Miller we lose but our meale, in the Ferrar but our Mule, in the Lawyer but our goodes, in the Tayler but our garment, but in the hands of the Phisitiō we lose our liues. Oh how great necessitie ought he to haue, & how conuenient it is for him first to cōsider, that at his mouth hath to receyue a purgation, or to consente that in his armes they let him bloud, for many times it doth hapen that the sick would giue all that he hath to be deliuered of his purgation, or to recouer his bloud into his arme.

In this whole world there be no men of more healthe than

such as be of good gouernment, and reck not to follow phisick:* 1.436 for our nature craueth to be well ruled, and very little to vn∣derstand with Phisicke. The Emperour Aurelius died of the age of thréescore and sixe yeares, in al which time he was ne∣uer purged or let bloud, neyther did vse Phisicke, but euery yeare he entred the Bath, euery moneth he did vomit, euery wéeke he did forbeare to eate one day, & euery day dyd walke one hour. The Emperour Adrian, for that in his youth he was gréedy in féeding, and disordered in drinking, he came to bée in his age much gréeued and sickly of the goute, with greate paine in the head, whereby he went euer laden with Phisiti∣ons; and of great experience of many medcines. If any man be desirous to know the profit he found by phisick, and the re∣medies be receyued of Phisitions, he may easely vnderstand in that (at the houre of his death) he commaunded these words to be ingrauen vppon his tombe, per •…•… turba medicorum, as if hée should speake more cleare, mine enemies hauing no power to kill me, am come to die by the hands of Phisitions. They re∣port a certain thing of the Emperour Galienus, of a troth wor∣thy to be noted, and gracious in hearing, whiche is, that the Prince being sicke and very euill of a Sciatica, a certayne fa∣mous Phisition had the cure of him, which had vsed a thousād experimēts without any ease or profit: on a certayn day y^e Em¦perour called and said vnto him, take Fabatus two thousande sexter〈◊〉〈◊〉 and also vnderstande, that if I giue them,* 1.437 it is not bycause it 〈…〉〈…〉 hast cured me, but for that thou shalte neuer more hereafter cure me. To how many Phisitions might we say 〈…〉〈…〉 those dayes as the Emperour Gabenus sayd vnto hys Phisition 〈◊〉〈◊〉 which although there be not named Fabates, with greate reason we mighte tear me them Bobates: for they neyther knowethe him〈…〉〈…〉 that offendeth the disease, eyther 〈…〉〈…〉 apply a necessary or conuenient medcine. As God sai•…•… and master Doctor, for my part I do firmely beléeue, that it shuld be sounder counsel for vs, for no cause to pay the igno∣rant Phisitions (to the ende they shall not cure vs) than for that they shoulde minister vnto vs: for we •…•…earely sée with

our owne eyes,* 1.438 that they kill more with their receipts frō the Apoticaries, than their predecessors haue slayn fighting in the warres.* 1.439 But this shall be the conclusion of my letter, that I do accept, approue, praise, and blesse medcine: and on the other side I do curse, reproue and condemne the Phisition that kno∣weth not to vse the same. For, according to that whiche youre Plinie sayeth (speaking of medcine) non rem antiqui damnabant sed artem. As if Plinie should speake more cleare, the auncient wise men and suche as banished Phisitions out of their common wealthes, did not condempne medcine, but the art of curing, that men had inuented in the same: for nature hauing layde vp the remedy of diseases in simple medcines, they haue framed and shut it vp in things compound, in suche wise, that manye times it is lesse painefull, to suffer the disease, than to abyde the remedie. No more but that our Lorde be youre protector, and giue me grace to serue him.

From Madrid, the xxvij. of December. 1525.

A letter vnto Mosen Puche of Valentia, wherein is touched at large, how the husband with the wife, and the wife with the husband, ought to liue. A letter for the new married.

YOng and new married Gētleman Mosen Pu∣che, to be married vnto the Lady Mary Gral∣la: and the Lady Mary Gralla to be married with Mosen Puche, from hence I wishe them good successe of their mariage, and from hence I pray vnto God they may delight ech other long and many a day. Mosen Puche to be married with a wife of xv. yeares, and the Lady Mary to be married vnto 〈◊〉〈◊〉 hus∣band of xvij. if I be not deceyued, there remayneth vnto them sufficient time to enioy their matrimonie, and also to bewaile their marriage.

* 1.440Solon So•…•…onio commaunded the Atheni••es that they shoulde not marry vntill the age of xix. The 〈…〉〈…〉 commaun∣ded

the Lacedemonians that they should not marrie vntill the age of xxv. The Philosopher Promotheus commaunded the E∣gyptians that they shuld not marrie vntill the age of xxx. yeres. And if by chaunce any durst marry before the appoynted age, the fathers were publikely chastised, and the children not hol∣den for legitimat. If Mosen Puche and the Lady Mary Gralla wer of Egypt (as they be of Valencia) they could not escape vn∣punished, and also their children disinherited.

For the great curtesy that I haue receyued of your mother, and for the entire amity and perfect loue I held with your fa∣ther, in the time I was Inquisitor at Valencia it gréeueth me to sée you maried in so tender yeres, and laden with so greate a charge: for so great a burden is matrimonie, as you neyther may haue licence to leaue it, eyther haue you age to suffer and support it. If your father did marry you of him selfe withoute consent, he vsed with you no small crueltie: and if you maried without licence, you haue committed no lesse rashnesse. For a yong man of xvij. and a young woman of xv. to dare set vp house, their déedes declareth great temeritie, and want of good counsell in the consent thereof: for the poore yonglings, ney∣ther do they know the burden they take in hand, eyther féele the liberty that they lose. Let vs vnderstand what conditions the wife ought to haue,* 1.441 and what conditions the husbande must hold in possession, to the end they may be happily mari∣ed: and if it be founde in Mosen Puche, and in the Lady Mary Gralla, from hencefoorth I confirme and ratify their mariage, and condemne my selfe to haue spoken without skil. The pro∣perties due to a maried wife is, that she haue grauity when she walketh abroade, wisedome to gouerne hir house, patience to suffer hir husband, loue to breede and bringing vp hir chil∣dren, affable with hir neighbours, diligence to lay vp and to saue goodes accomplished in things appertayning to honour, a friend of honest company, and a great enemy of wanton and light toyes.

The properties appertayning to the married husbād is,* 1.442 to be reposed in his speach, milde of cōuersation, faithfull wherin

he is trusted, wise wherein he giueth counsell, carefull for the prouision of his house, diligent in the ordering of his goodes, of sufferance for the importunities of his wife, zealous in brin∣ging vp of his children, aduised in things of honor, and a sure man with all men that he dealeth. But now demaunding an∣swer, if in the xvij. yeres of Mosen Puche, and in the xv. yeres of Lady Mary Gralla, we shall finde all that we haue sayde, or that euer they thought thereof. In men of so tender yeres, and married so yong, it is to be suspected, that such and so delicate things, neyther do they knowe to vnderstande when they bée told them, neyther yet being wanting to aske for them: but I aunswer and also prophesy vnto the xvij. yeres of Mosen Pu∣che, & to the xv. yeres of the Lady Mary Gralla, that if they will not learne all these properties, and after their learning ob∣serue them, that in a little further processe of time, they with their burden shall fall to the ground, or else eyther of thē séeke newe loue. I hold it not for so waighty to be admitted a nouice frier, as a yong man to be married, for the one may refuse and come foorth, and the other may not repent. The incommodi∣ties that do follow the marriage of xvij. with xv. Mosen Puche and the Lady Mary Gralla can more effectually declare, than I can write. For if I say ought, it is by gesse, but they maye af∣firme it as féeling witnesses. For men to marry themselues very yong, there followeth great hurtes: whiche is to vnder∣stande, their wiues are broken and spoyled in their child bed, weaken their strength, laden with children, spend their patri∣monie, soone moued to ielousy, not comprehending what ap∣pertayneth to honor, they vnderstande not to prouide for the housholde: the first loues finishe, and new cares approche, in such wise, for marrying them selues so yong, they come af∣terwards to liue discontented, or else to be separated in theyr old age.* 1.443 The diuine Plato gaue counsel to his commō wealth, that they should marrie their children in suche an age, where∣in they shoulde vnderstande what they did choose, and very well perceyue what they tooke in hande. Graue and very graue is this sentence of Plato, for to take a wife, or to choose a

husband is no hard thing, but to vnderstande to sustayne an houshold is very difficult. I haue not bene married, neyther haue had any motion to be married, but for as much as I haue séene amongst my kinred, and haue read in bookes, by that I haue suspected of my neighbours, and by which I haue hearde of my friends, I find by my rekoning, that those that chaunce to be well married, haue here their Paradise, and such as haue had worse chaunce, of their house they haue made an hell. What man to thys day, that hath matched with a woman of such perfection, that wished not in hir some things to be amen∣ded? What woman hath chosen a husbande so accomplished, that found not in him some thing to be misliked?

In the first vew of wowers & of their contraction few ma∣riages be displeasant, but in proces of time few things be li∣ked, and that which is most certaine being in want, and mo∣ney spent, incontinent without delay, displeasures knocks at gate. Oh sorowful married man, if thou marry with a gentle∣woman, thou must beare with hir pomp and follie: If thou en∣counter with a woman that is mild and wise, thou must ac∣cept hir pouertie: if thou match with one that is riche,* 1.444 it may happen thée to be ashamed of hir kinred? if thou choose thée a wife that is fayre, thou hast mischaunce sufficient to watche hir: if it be thy chaunce to obtayne a wife that is foule, after fewe dayes thou wilt shunne thy house, and also seeke newe lodging: if thou boast thy selfe that thy wife is wise, and of goodly personage, also thou complaynest that she is costly and no house kéeper: if thou say of thy selfe that thy wife is a good huswife, forthwith it is reported that no seruant may endure hir fierce crueltie: if thou doest glory that thy wife is honest and chast, many times thou doest abhorre hir for that she is too much ielouse: what wilte thou that I say more? Oh thou poore maried man, that which I speake, besides that is spokē, is: If thou shut thy wife within doores she neuer ceasseth to complayne: if thou giue hir leaue to walke at libertie, she gy∣ueth occasion for thy neighbours to talke, and thy selfe to su∣spect,

and if thou do much chide, she goeth always with a croo∣ked countenance: & if thou say nothing, none may endure hir: if thy dispence be in hir disposition, the stocke goeth to wrack: if the laying out be in thine owne hands beware thy purse or secret sale of thy goodes: if thou kéepe thée much at home, she thinks thée suspicious: and if thou come late home, she will say that thou dost wander: and if thou giue hir good garmentes she must go foorthe to be séene, if she be not well apparelled thou art bidden to an euill supper: if thou shewe thy selfe louing she estéemeth thée little, if thou be negligent therein, she suspe∣cteth thée to be in loue els where: if thou denie what she cra∣ueth, she neuer ceaseth to be importunate: & finally if thou vn∣to hir discouer any secret, she cannot but publish it: behold here the reason, and also the occasion wherefore, if in the common wealth there be ten well maried, there be a hundred that do liue abhorred and in repentaunce, which presently would de∣part from their wiues, house and chamber, if they could finish with the Church, as they can performe with their conscience. If matrimony amongst Christians were as it is amongst the Gentiles to be diuorced at euery mans liking, I sweare there would be more hast to the lent of diuorcement, than to all the rest of the yeare to be maried.

That no man do marry but with his equall.

THe rules and counsels that I will giue here vn∣to those that are to be married, and also vnto such as be already maried: if they be not profi∣table to liue contented, at the least they shall serue them to auoyde many displeasures. The first holesome counsell is to vnderstande,* 1.445 that the woman choose such a man, and the man such a woman, that there bée equalitie both in bloud and in estate: whiche is to witte: the Knight with the Knight, the merchaunt with the merchaunt, the Squier with the Squier, and the ploughman with the ploughman: For if herein there be disconformitie, the more

base shal liue most discontented, and the other of more worthy degree very much repentant. The marchaunt that marieth his daughter vnto a Knight, and the riche ploughman that taketh a man of worship vnto his sonne in law: I do say and affirme, that they bring into their house a proclaymer of their infamie, a certaine moth for their garments, a tormenter of their fame, and also a shortner of their liues. In an euill houre hath he maried his sonne or daughter, that hath brought into his house such a sonne in lawe, or daughter in lawe, that is a∣shamed to name him father,* 1.446 whose daughter or sonne he or she hath maried: in such mariadges it can not truely be said that they haue brought to house a son, but a Deuill: a daughter but a Snake: not: to serue but to offend: not: children but ba∣silisks: not to honour him, but defame him. Finally I say, that he that marieth not his daughter with his equall, shall finde it lesse euill to burie than to marie hir: for if she die, they shall bewayle hir but one day, but to be euill maried, is to bewayle hir many yeares. The rich marchant, the poore squier, the wise plough man, and the good townflike craftes man, néedes no daughter in lawe that can frill and paint hir selfe, but such as he skilfull very well to spinne: for that day that such men shall presume to haue in vre the carpet and pillow,* 1.447 that day they spoyle their house, and their goods sinketh to the bottome.

I retourne agayne to say and affirme, that such men beware, that bringes into their houses a sonne in Lawe that presu∣meth of woorship, and knoweth not but to walke vp & downe the streates: that accompteth to be a trim Courtier, and that is skilfull at cardes: and dice: or boasteth himselfe for running of horses: for in such cases the poore father in lawe must fast, to the ende the foolish sonne in lawe may haue to spend in fol∣lies. But the conclusion of this counsell shall be, that al men marry their children with their equall and according to their estate, otherwise I doe certyfie before the yeare be out, it shall raigne vpon their heades that séeke a foolishe or an incon∣uenient mariage.

Also it is a counsell very expedient that euery man choose a wife according to his complexion and condition: for if the father marry y^e sonne, or if the sonne do marry of necessitie & not at his liking, the sorrowfull yong man may not say (of a troth) that they haue maried him, but for euermore haue marrd him. To the ende that marriages be perpetual, louing and pleasant, betwixt the man and the woman there must be a knitting of hartes,* 1.448 before stryking of hands: it is very con∣uenient that the Father gyue counsell vnto the sonne that he marry to his contentation, but in no wise to vse violence to force him against his lyking: for all violent marriages engen∣der hatred betwixt the married: contention betwixt the fa∣thers, scandall amongst the neyghboures, lawe betwixt the parents, and quarrelles betwixt the kinred: neyther is it my opinion that anye should marry sodainly and secretly, as a vayne light yong man: for euery mariage done onely in re∣spect of loue without further aduisement, most tymes doe ende in sorrowes.

It is a thing very common that a yong man of small age and lesse experience, but of to much libertie, knowing not what he doeth loue, and muche lesse what he taketh in hand, groweth enamoured of a young gyrle and marrieth with hir, which (at the very instant) when he hathe finished to tast hir, he beginneth presently to abhorre hir. The thing that is most to be procured betwixt the married is, that they loue entierly and feruently:* 1.449 for otherwise they shall all day goe sorrowing with crooked countenances, and the neighbours shall haue no want whereof to speake. Also I will aduise them to haue their loues fixed, true and sure, settling in the hart by little and lit∣tle: for otherwise, by the selfe same way that loue came run∣ning, they shall sée hir returne flying. I haue séene many in this world loue in greate haste, whiche I haue knowen after∣wardes abhorre at great leasure. One of the moste pain∣fullest things contained in mans life is, that if there be a hū∣dred permanent and constant in loue, there is also a hundred thousand that neuer cease to abhorre. It is also to be aduerti∣sed,

that the counsell which I giue vnto the father to make no mariage without consent of his sonne, the same I giue vnto the sonne, that he marie not against the will of his Father: for otherwise, it may come to passe, to receiue more offence by the malediction of his father, than his mariage portion may yéelde him profit. Yong men when they marry in their youth haue no further consideration but of their pleasure, and onely content them selues to haue their wiues beautifull: but the father and mother, for that it toucheth both honor and goods, they séeke him a wyfe that shall be wise, ritch, gentle, honest and chast: and the last thing they behold, is, hir beautie. The marriages that be made, hidden and in secret, I say it groweth of greate lightnes, and procéedeth of no small crueltie: for it giueth to al the neighbours whereof to talke, and to their old parents wherfore to wéepe. It hapneth many times that the mother ouerwatcheth hir selfe to spinne, and the Father to grow old in gathering a sufficiēt portion. And at the time they shall entreat or talke of an honest marriage, the foolish yong man remayneth secretly married, whereof after followeth, that the mother remayneth wéeping, the father ashamed, the kindred offended, and the friende scandalized: and yet thereof procéedeth a greater griefe, which is, that the sonne hath chan∣ced to matche with suche a wife, that the father holdeth his goods not onely euill employed, but is much ashamed to admit hir into his house. Also another offence riseth in the like mar∣riage, which is, many times the fathers doe determine, with the sonnes portion to remedie and amend the daughters mar∣riage: and as the yong mans most principall intent is to enioye the mayde withoute care of goodes: the sister remay∣neth cast awaye, the sonne deceyued, and the father de∣rided. Plutarche in hys politikes sayeth, that the sonne whyche married withoute consente of hys Parentes, a∣mongst the Greekes, was publikely whipt: amongst the Lacedemonians they did not whippe, but disinherite. Laertius sayeth, that vnto suche (so married) it was a custome a∣mongst the Thebanes, not that they should only be disinherited

of all goodes,* 1.450 but also openly be cursed of their parents. Let no man estéeme it light to be cursed or blessed of their elders: for in the old time amongst the Hebrewes, the children (withoute al comparison) held more account of their fathers blessing, thā of their Grandfathers inheritance.

That the woman be very shamefast, and no babler or full of talke.

ALso it is a counsell very necessary, that the man whyche shall marrie and set vp house,* 1.451 do choose a wife shamefast, for if forceably there should be in a woman but one vertue, the same ought to be only shamefastnesse. I confesse that it is more perillous for the conscience, but (I say) lesse hurtfull to honesty, that a woman be secretely vnhonest, than openly vn∣shamefast. Very many infirmities be couered in a woman on∣ly by shamefastnesse, and many more suspected in hir, that is of ouerbold and of shamelesse countenance. Let euery man say what he will, but for my part I doe firmely beléeue, that in a woman of a bashfull countenance there be fewe things to bée reprehended, and in hir that is otherwise, there wanteth all things wherefore to be praysed.* 1.452 The safety that nature hathe giuen vnto a woman to kéepe hir reputation, chastitie, ho∣noure, and goodes, is only shamefastnesse: and that day, that thereof she hathe not great regard, let hir yéeld hir selfe euer∣more for a castaway. When any man shall enquire marri∣age of any woman, the first thing he hath to demaund is not, if she be rich, but if she be shamefast: for goodes is euery daye gotten, but shamefastnesse in a woman once lost, is neuer re∣couered. The best portion, the greatest inheritance, and the most precious iewell that a woman can bring with hir, is shamefastnesse.

For if the Father shall sée that his daughter hath lost the fame, it shallbe lesse euill for him to bury hir, than to marry hir. The maner is, that many women presume to be talkers, and to séeme gratious in taunting, whiche office I woulde not

sée them learne, and much lesse put in vre for speaking the troth, and also with libertie, that which in men we call grati∣ous, in women we terme it witlesse babling.

Newes, tales, vaine fables, and dishonest talkes, an honest woman ought not onely shame to speake them, but also loth to heare them. The graue women & of authoritie ought not to care to be skilfull of talke and newes, but to be honest and silent: for if she much presume of talke and taunting, the very same that did laugh at hir deuice, will afterwards murmur at hir manners. The honour of women is so delicate, that many things whiche men may both doe and speake, is not lawful vnto women that they once dare to whisper them. The gētle∣woman or women that will be holden graue, ought not onely to kéepe silence in things vnlawfull and vnhonest, but also in lawfull things, if they bée not very necessary: for women sel∣dome erre by silence, and by much speach they seldome cease to giue cause of reproche. Oh sorrowfull husband, whose lot hath chaunced to light on a wife that is a great babler, & yet would séeme a curious speaker. For truly, if any such once take in hand to recite a matter or to frame any complaint or quarell, she neither admitteth reason, or patiently suffereth a∣ny woord to be said vnto hir. The euill life that women passe with their husbands, is not so much for that which they com∣mit with their persons, as it is for that which they speake with their tongues: if the woman would kéepe silence, when the husband beginneth to chide, he should neuer haue bad din∣ner, neither she worse supper: which surely is not so,* 1.453 for at the instant that the husbande beginneth to vtter his griefe, she beginneth to scolde and yell: whereof doth follow, that they come to handy grypes, and also call for neyghbours.

That the wife be a home keeper, and auoy∣ding all occasions.

JT is also a commendable counsel that the wife presume to be honest, and an housekéeper: for when women in their

houses will be absolute, they come afterwards to wander the streates dissolute. The honest woman ought to be very well aduised in that which she speaketh, and very suspicious and doutfull in all thinges she doth: bycause suche maner of wo∣men as haue no regard to their wordes, do afterwards offend in déedes. For how simple and ignorant is that man, but he easely knoweth the honour of women to be much more ten∣der and delicate than of men: and that this is true it appereth most cleare, for that a man may not be dishonored but with reason, but for a woman to shame hir selfe, occasion is suffi∣cient. She that is good and presumeth in goodnes to conti∣nue, may hold it for most certaine, that she shalbe so much bet∣ter as she shall haue of hir selfe lesse confidence: I say lesse confidence, to the ende that she neither aduenture to giue eare to wanton or light words, or presume to admit fayned offers. Let hir be as she may be, and deserue what she may deserue, and presume what she thinketh good: that if she delighteth to heare, and suffer to be serued, early or late she shall fall. And if they shall aunswere that they do it for pastime and to laugh and be mery: to this I reply, that of such iestes, they vse to re∣maine all to be iested. I aduise, and readuise any Gentle wo∣man, or other Dame of Citie or towne: that she do not ven∣ter with cosin or Vncle, either with any other of hir kinsmen to encommend hir selfe or go alone: for if to be alone with a straunger there is to be feared of that may chaunce: with hir Cosin or kinsman let hir doubt what may be spoken. Let no honest womā haue confidence in saying, the kindred betwixt them is so neare, that it is impossible that any may mistrust them: for if the malice of mā wil venter to iudge the thoughts, it is no credible that he will pardon that which he séeth with his eyes. The Gentlewoman or others that shal heare or reade this my writing, I would they shuld note this sentēce, which is:* 1.454 That to a man for that he is a man, it is sufficient that hee bee good, although it doth not appeare: but the woman, for that she is a woman, it is not sufficient that she be good, but that also it be manifest.

It is to be noted and noted againe, that as the prouision of houshold dependeth onely on the husband, euen so the honour of all dependeth onely of the woman: In suche sorte,* 1.455 that there is no honour within thy house, longer than thy wife is honorable. We do not here intitle honorable such as be one∣ly faire of fare, of gentle bloud, of comely personage, and a ke∣per of goods: but onely hir that is honest of life, and temperat and aduised in hir spéech. Plutarch reporteth that the wife of Thucides the Greeke, being demaunded how she could endure the stench of hir husbandes breath, aunswered:* 1.456 As no other but my husband hath come neare mée, I thought all other mens breath had bene of the very same sauor. Oh example worthy to be knowne, and much more to be followed, which is taught vs by that most Noble Greeke: that the honest wo∣man is so muche to be aduised, that she consent not the haunt of any vnhonest company so neare as to smell his mouth, ei∣ther so much as to touch his garments.

That the maried woman be not proud or cruell.

ALso is right worthy counsell, that the wife be not cruel and ambitious, but milde and suf∣fring: for they be two things that giue no small hindrance vnto a woman, which is to wit: hir much talke, and little sufferance:* 1.457 and thereof procéedeth, that if she be silent, all men do esteeme hir: if she suffer hir husband, she shal be ve∣ry well maried Oh how vnfortunat is that man, y^t is maried vnto a froward and a cruell woman: the hill Aethna doth not whirle out fire so furiously, as she throweth poyson out of hir month. Without comparison muche more is y^e fury of a wo∣man to be feared, than the ire of a man: for the angred man doth but discouer his minde, but the fierce woman to scold, yell and exclaime can finde no end.

The amused manne, and the woman that presumeth of

honestie, ought not to contend with any other woman that is furious: for at the instant that she loseth hir shamefastnes, and kindleth hir choler, she onely sayth not what she hath séene or hard, but also what she hath dreamed. It is vnto me not a litle gracious, that when a woman is kindled with a furious rage, neither heareth she hir selfe, nor vnderstandeth others, ney∣ther doth admit excuse, nor suffer worde, neyther taketh coun∣sell, or cometh neare to reason: And the worst of all is, that many times she leaueth to quarell with whom she was first offended, and spitteth hir malice against him that came to make peace. When any furious woman brauleth with any man or womā, and some other cōmes betwixt to make peace: she will not onely afterwards geue him small thanks, but al∣so will rayse against him many quarrels: Saying that if he had bene the man she thought of, he would haue chidde on hir behalfe, and also reuenged hir cause. The woman that natu∣rally is fierce and crabbed, she neuer thinketh to be angry with out a cause, neither skoldeth without reason, and therfore it is muche better to leane hir than to resist hir. I retourne to rectifie my saying: whiche is, that the house is vnfortunate where the wife is a brawler and quarellous: for such a one is alwaies ready to chide, and neuer to confesse hir fault. The cruell brawling woman is very perillous, for she causeth hir husbande to bee fierce, she giueth offence vnto hir kinred, she is hated of hir cosins,* 1.458 and the neighbours flie from hir: whereof followeth sometimes, that hir husbande méeteth hir body with his féete, and combeth hir haire with his fingers. Vnto a furious brawling woman on the one side it is a pastim to heare hir chide: and on the other part it is terrible to vnder∣stand what she will not let to speake: for if a procession of people shall take in hand to aunswere hir, she shall wearie thē al with a letanie of iniuries. Vnto hir husbande shée saieth, that he is negligent, his seruants slothfull, the mayds sluttish, hir Sonnes glutonous, hir daughters windowgazers, that friendes be in grate,* 1.459 that the enimies bée traitoures, the neighboures malicious, hir Gossippes enuious: and

aboue all the rest, she sayth that no man dealeth truly with a∣nother, either obserueth loyaltie with his wife. I do lye, if I did not sée two honorably maried, separate themselues for no other occasion, but for that the séely maried man was some∣times sadde at Table, and other times did sigh at bed. The woman sayd that hir husband had some treason against hir at the Table: and for the beauty of some other that he loued hée did sigh in bed: and the certaintie of the matter well knowen, the troth was, that the man was bound in a perillous suerti∣ship, and could not be mery, but in the ende for any thing that I could intreate, preach, or chide, I could neuer bring them a∣greed, vntill he had sworne and giuen me his fayth,* 1.460 not to bée sadde at the Table, neither to sigh at bed. The woman that is patient and suffering, shall be blessed of hir husband, well ser∣ued of seruants, much honored of neighbours, and in great re∣uerence with hir kinred. And where it is otherwise, let hir hold it for certain, that they will all flie from hir house & blisse them selues from hir tong. When a woman is fierce, proude, and cruell, smal delight hath hir husband that she is descended of gentle bloud, of comely personage, ritch of goodes, and alli∣ed into his house: but he curseth the day he was maried, and blasphemeth the man that first moued the matter.

That Husbands be not rigorous, chiefly when they be new maried.

IT is also an aceeptable counsell, that the hus∣bād be not fierce, nor disorder with his wife: for betwixt them there shal neuer be concord, if the woman doe not learne to kéepe silence, and the husband to haue patience. I dare saye (and in a manner sweare) it shall rather bée the dwelling of fooles, than the house of friends,* 1.461 where y^e hus∣bands wanteth wisedome and the wife patience: for in pro∣cesse of time they shall eyther separate, or else euery day be in battell. Women naturally be tender in complexion & weake

in condition: to this end a man is a man, that he know to tole∣rate their faultes, and couer their weakenesse, in suche wise, that once they muste support them byting, and an hundred times licking.

If there be compassion of the man that is matched with a fierce wife, much more of the woman that is encountred with a furious husband: For there be men so fierce and of so small patience, that the poore women their wiues, neyther is theyr wisedome sufficient to serue them, neyther their patience to suffer them, sometime for their children, sometime for theyr seruants, and sometime for want of money: betwixt man and wife offences may not be excused: and in suche a case I durst auouch,* 1.462 that then when the wife is angrie, he hath néede to séeke his wittes, which is to witte, to take all things in iest, or not to answer a word. If vnto all things that the wife will be gréeued and frame complaints, the wise man shoulde aun∣swer and satisfye, let him holde it for certaine, that he néedeth the strength of Sampson, and the wisedome of Salomon. Marke well married man what I say vnto thee, which is, that either thy wife is wise, or else thy wife is a foole. If thou be matched with a foole, it auayleth little to reprehend hir, and if thou bée married vnto a wise woman, one sharp word is sufficient: by∣cause my friend thou hast to vnderstand, that if a woman bée not corrected by that which is sayde, she will neuer amend by that which is threatned. When a woman shall be inflamed with yre, the man ought to suffer hir, and after the flame is somewhat quenched, to reprehend hir: for if she once begin to loose hir shame in the presence of hir husband, they will euery houre cleaue the house with yelles.

He that presumeth to be a wise man, and to be a good hus∣band, he ought rather to vse his wife with milde reasons and sagacitie, than with rigor and force: for the woman is of suche disposition, that in the ende of thirtie yeares marriage, there shal euery day be found thwartings in hir condition, and alte∣rations in hir conuersation. Also it is to be noted, that if at all times the husband ought to shunne quarrelling with his wife,

much more he ought to auoyde the same when they shall bée newly married: for if at the beginning she shall haue cause to abhorre and hate, late or neuer will she returne to loue. At the beginning of their marriage, the wise husband ought to fawne, flatter, and to enamour his wife: for if then they reco∣uer loue ech to other, although afterwards they come to some houshold words and grudgings it procéedeth of some new vn∣kindnesse, and not of old rooted hatred.* 1.463 Mortall enimies be loue and hatred, and the firste of them that taketh lodging in the heart, there he remayneth inhabitant all the days of life, in such wise, that the first loues may depart from the person, but neuer forgotten at the hart. If from the beginning of the ma∣riage the woman do take the bit to abhorre hir husbande, I commend them both vnto a miserable life, and also vnto an vnfortunate old age. For if he shall haue power to make hir to feare him, he shall neuer haue strength to force hir to loue him.* 1.464 Many husbandes do boast themselues to be serued and feared in their houses, of whome I haue more pitie than en∣uie: bycause the woman that abhorreth, doth feare and serue hir husband, but she that liketh doth loue him and cherish him. Muche ought the woman to trauell to be in grace with hir husband, and very much ought the husband to feare to bée in disgrace with his wife: for if she doe once determine to fixe hir eyes vpon same other, he shall enioy hir in despite of hir hus∣band: for so long a iorney, and for so painefull a life, as matri∣monie is, the husbād ought not to be satisfied that he hath robd his wife of hir virginitie, but in that he hath possession and vse of hir will: for it is not sufficient that they be maried,* 1.465 but that they be well maried, and liue very well contented. The man that is not beloued of his wife, holdeth his goodes in daunger, his house in suspition, his honour in ballance, and also his life in perill: bycause it is easie to belieue, that she desireth not long life vnto hir husband, with whome she passeth a time so tedious.

The Husbands be not ouer ielouse.

ALso it is a counsell to be imbraced, that married men doe auoyde to be with their neighbours malicious, and of their wiues ielouse: bycause onely two kindes of people be ielous, which is to vnderstand, such as be of euill condition, and suche as in their youth haue spent their time in wantonnes. Such kind of men do imagine, that their wiues giue the like enter∣tainment vnto others, as they receyued of their neighbours wiues: the whiche is no small vanitie to thinke, and no lesse foolishnesse to speake: for if there be some that be dissolute, ther be also other some wise, honest, and aduised. To say that all women be good, is of too much affection: and to say that all bée euill, is to great want of reason. It is sufficient to say, that a∣mongst men there is many things to be reprehended, and a∣mongst women there wanteth not wherefore to be praysed: I hold it not for euill, that vnto hir whiche is vaine and light, they vse hir not only with reason, but also taking away occa∣sion:* 1.466 but withall it is to be vnderstoode with this condition, that they vse hir not with such straytnesse, either giue hir so e∣uill a life: whereby vnder colour to kéepe herin, they bring hir to dispayre. We cannot denie but there bée women of so euill condition, and so vnhonest of inclination, that will not be corrected with force, eyther amended by chastisement. But it séemeth that suche were borne into this world, only to tormēt their husbands and to shame their kinred. And on the other side there be women many and very manye, whiche of theyr owne proper nature be of so tractable condition and chast in∣clination: that it séemeth not that they were borne into the worlde, but for a mirror to the common wealth, and a glory vnto their whole kinred. I retourne once more to saye, that sometimes it is not euill to shut the dore, to remoue hir from the window, to denie hir going abroade, and to deliuer hir frō some suspitious company:* 1.467 but this the husband must bring to passe with great skill, that he always shew a greater faith in the liberty she hathe, than in the watch or direction he giueth.

I do prayse and approue, that men with their wiues be cau∣telous, but I hold it not for sure that they be ouer ielous: for women be of such qualitie, that they procure nothing so much as that which is most forbidden them. If the husbande haue the wife in suspition, he ought to profite himselfe by skill, not vttering it in words: for if a woman doe once find hir selfe a∣shamed, she will not fayle to find out the meanes and maner, to make the suspition true, and not so muche for the appetite she hath to be vicious, as she hath to féele hir hart reuenged of hir husband. The force of Sampson, the science of Homer, the prudence of Augustus, the cautels of Pirrhus, the patiēce of Iob, the sagacity of Haniball, and the vigilancy of Hermogenes, bée not sufficient to gouerne a woman, either to bring hir will in subiection: for finally and in the end, in all this world there is not so great force, that can make one good by force. The negli∣gences, wants, and weakenesse that the husbande shall sée in his wife, it were no wisedome to proclayme them, neyther yet presently to chastise them, but some he must gently cor∣rect, some aduisedly admonish, some seuerely punish, some cut off, and the most and greatest part he muste dissemble.* 1.468 For wise and patient though a woman may be, only two thinges she cannot endure to heare, neyther is hir patience sufficiente to suff••••, which is to vnderstand, that any hold hir for euill of body and foule of face: but notwithstanding she be euill, shée will be holden for good, and being foule, she will be praysed for fayre. But let it be for conclusion, that when the husbande is sure of all things, whiche is to witte: that his wife maketh no market of his person, that his fame wander not the streates, and that his goodes goe not to wracke, in my iudgement it is méete, that he neuer handle hir as one that is ielouse, or speak vnto hir as one that is malicious: bycause the woman is much bound to be vertuous, when the husbande in hir commendeth great confidence.

That if betwixt the maried there happen some vnkindnesse, they ought not to giue part thereof vnto neighbours.

ALso it is a right profitable counsell, that in such wise the husbande & wife behaue them∣selues in their vnkindnesse and differences, that they giue no parte thereof vnto theyr neighbours: for they haue to vnderstande, that if they wish thē euill they will reioyce, and if they wishe them well they giue them whereof to talke. There be men so combersome,* 1.469 and women of such euill suffe∣ring, that they know not to chide, but yelling: nor the other to aunswer but crying: in such wife that their neighbours haue an office in the wéeke time to pacifie them, and on the holy∣day to heare their gréeues. The husband complayneth saying, that his wife is fierce, and that no Diuell may deale with hir. He also cōplayneth that she is ielous and suspitious, and that he is not able to liue with hir. He also complayneth, that shée is impacient and foule tonged, and continually reuileth him. He also complayneth, that his wife is weake, foule, and sick∣ly, and that he spendeth al in curing hir. Also he complayneth, that she is costly, slouthfull, and alwayes sléeping, and that she riseth not till noone.

Also he complayneth, that she is sluttish, idle and negligent, and that the things of his house she neither knoweth to gather togither, and much lesse to lay them safe. Also he cōplayneth, that his wife is a séeker of kinred, a gossip, a stréete gadder, and that if she once take the dore, vntill the starres shine she returneth not to house.* 1.470 On the other side the poore women for that they haue no force to reuenge, they profit themselues to complayne with their tongs. The wife complayneth of hir husband that he is sad, sullen, and melancholicke, and that of an extreme euill condition: neyther liked of his neighbours, nor endured of his seruants. She complaineth of his husband, that he is furious, proude, and of euill suffering, and that ma∣ny times when with choler he is inflamed, he beswingeth hir

maydes, and also teareth hir kerchife from hir head. Also shée complayneth, that he vpbraydeth hir to be foule and euill fa∣uored, a slut, a filthe, and a Iew: and that sometimes he spea∣keth so many and so great dispitefull words, that they breake hir hart, and teare the teares out of hir eyes. Also she cōplay∣neth that he consenteth not, that she goe to sée hir father and mother, nor visit hir friends and kinsfolkes, and of pure ma∣lice he doth not suffer hir to go out at dore: and commaundeth hir at the middes of seruice to depart home from the Churche. Also she complayneth, that hir husbande is ielouse and suspiti∣ous without any occasion, and much lesse with any reason, and for that cause he dothe not suffer hir to goe out at dores, or to looke out at windowe, neyther put on good garment, neyther dresse hir head, or speake a word with any man, but that shée must be watched as a mayd, and hid in like a Nunne. Also she complayneth of him that he beléeueth nothing that she spea∣keth, neyther doth accept any seruice she can do him: for if hée be once angrie, presently he chargeth hir with a lie, and whir∣leth all that he catcheth. Also she complayneth of him that hée leaueth no married woman that he serueth not, nor widdowe that he followeth not, or woman at large to whome he goeth not, or wench with whome he dallieth not: and that he kée∣peth hir (sorrowfull and most vnfortunate) to no other ende, than to make ready children, dresse the pot, and swéepe the house. Also she complayneth of him, that not contented to take the wheate, the bacon, the butter, the oyle, the chéese, to gyue vnto such and such out of the dore, but also stealeth from hir, to giue vnto his minion that which she spinneth at the rocke, and also what she getteth by making of lace. Also she complai∣neth of him, that he is a common gamster at tables and dice, & that not contented to play al the rent, and al that he can get: but also he playeth the furniture of his house and the iewells apperteyning to hir persone. Also she cōplayneth of him, that many times he commeth from abroade so furious, so troubled, and so be deuild, that none may abide him, or much lesse suffer him, but that he whippeth and chideth the children, he braw∣leth

and maddeth with the maydes,* 1.471 he teareth and pulleth the boyes by the heare, and also behayleth hir by the lockes. Of those and other such like things doth the man and the wife cō∣playne each of other, whereof to giue parte vnto suche as can not remedie it, neyther conuenient that they shoulde vnder∣stand it, it semeth vnto me, that in the man it is too muche sim∣plicitie, and in the woman too much vanitie.

I retourne to saye, that it is of small skill, and too much ig∣noraunce, since they will shew vnto none what they haue in their chests, and at times will vtter all that is in their sto∣macks. For a friend to shew vnto his friende, his bread, hys wine, his money, and his garner, there is no inconuenience at all, but the inconueniēce is in that we loue, in that we desire, and in that which we worship: all which is not only to be kept secret, but also hidden and remoued. The loue and hatred that is fixed in the harte, it is necessarye that it be lockt and also sealed. For what do I reserue for him that I like very well, if I say vnto all men what is hidden in my hart? vnto him that loueth vs with his hart, and we wish him good with all oure hart, to him alone and to none others we haue to manifest our hart.* 1.472 The passions that they giue vs, and the misfortunes that they offer vs, it is no wisedome to discouer, but vnto hym that will help vs to remedie it, and also will helpe to bewayle the same: bycause the teares of a friende dothe not a little dis∣burden the hart of trauell. If this be true, as it is, to what end doth the husbande complayne of the wife, and the wife of the husband, vnto any which they know can giue them no reme∣die, but iest, skorne and deride them? If any ouerthwarting of the husbande, or any weakenesse be in the woman, it is great foolishnesse and little wisedome to vtter where it is not kno∣wen, for it is lesse euill, that others do suspect it, than to gyue them to vnderstand it of their owne mouth.

That the Husbandes prouide things necessary for the house.

JT is also a sound counsel, that the husbands be diligent and carefull to make prouisiō for their houses, to cloth their wi∣ues, to bring vp their children, and to paye their seruants, by∣cause in voluntarie matters men may be negligent but the necessities of their house, doe neyther suffer negligence, or for∣getfulnesse. The office of the husbande is, to get goods, and of the wife, to gather them together, and saue them.* 1.473 The office of the husbande is, to goe abroad to séeke liuing, and of the woman to kéepe the house. The office of the husband is, to séek money, and of the woman not vainely to spend. The office of the husbande is, to deale with all men, and of the woman to talke with few. The office of the husband is, to be entermed∣ling, and of the woman to be solitary and withdrawen. The office of the man is, to be skilfull in talke, and of the woman to boast of silence. The office of the man is to be zelous of ho∣nor, and of the woman to presume to be honorable. The office of the man is to be a giuer, and of the woman to be a sauer. The office of the man is, to apparell him selfe as he may, and of the woman as it becommeth. The office of the husband is, to be lord of all, and of the wife to giue account of al. The of∣fice of the husband is to dispatche all things without dore, & of the wife to giue order vnto all things within y^e house. Finally I doe say, that the office of the husband is, to husband y^e goods, & of the wife to gouerne the familie. I thought good to say thus much, to the end that the house wherin euery one performeth his office we may call a colledge of quietnes, & y^e house wherin euery one shifteth for him selfe, we may terme it a hell.

That the wife shall demaund of hir husband things super∣fluous and very costly, neyther ought she to craue it, or the husband to giue it: but if she require thinges necessary, they ought not to be denied, for the husbande hath to conceiue for most certaine, that vppon the gages of honor, many times the wife dothe prouide for hir selfe and hir housholde. The

husband that giueth not vnto his wife, a coate nor mantell, smocke nor shoe, kerchife nor sléeue, neyther to clothe hir children, nor yet to pay seruants: and on the other parte hée séeth all these things prouided for frée, and made better: cer∣taynely such a one may well thinke that she rather getteth them trotting,* 1.474 than spinning. Oh how many women be euill, not bycause they would be so, but for that their husbandes giueth them not that whyche is conuenient: The whiche, by exchange of chastitie, do supplie their extreme necessitie.

To maintaine house and familie, it is not sufficient that the wife doe spinne, weaue, sowe, worke, watche, and ouer∣watch: but that also the husband do watch, sweate, and trauel: and if not, he may hold it for certayne, that his house shall bée prouided to the cost of his honor, and to the charge of hir per∣sone. For pouertie or weakenesse, no woman ought to do any thing to shame hir selfe, or dishonour hir kindred: but ioyntly with this, I dare auouche, that many times the negligence of the husband doth bring to passe, that his wife with him is ab∣solute, and with others dissolute. I know not with what face, either with what hart he dare beate or chide his wife, since she neuer séeth him put hand to his purse to buy meate.

The husband that conformably vnto his estate doth mayn∣tayne his family and sustayne his house, iust and most iustly he may chide with his wife for the negligence that she vseth, and for the excesse that she committeth,* 1.475 and where it is not so, he must suffer what she speaketh, let passe what he heareth, vse silence in what he suspecteth, and also dissemble what hée séeth.

That the Husband bring no suspitious per∣sons to their houses.

ALso it is a conuenient counsell, that married men be friends and familiar with honest per∣sons, and procure to auoyde euill companye. There be many that be euill married, not for the faultes that in their wiues is séene, but for

she vicious words that vnto hir the malicious speaketh. If the husband be an Oxe I say nothing, but if he be of iudgemēt and discréete, he hath to take it for scorne and shame, that any man dare saye any euill of his wife, since others seeth hir not once a wéeke, and he hath hir euery night in his chamber, e∣uery day at his table, and euery houre in his house. If the wife be a foole, a babbler, a goer at large, wanton, light, absolute or dissolute, the husband is the first that should vnderstand there∣of, and the man that should presently therefore giue remedie: and if he know it and do not amend it,* 1.476 such an Oxe and so be∣horned, they ought to permit to himselfe, since he will suffer it. One of the most gréeuous offences that we may committe a∣gainst God, is: to bring hatred betwixt the man and his wife, and the wife and hir husband: for if there shall any negligence he séene in the man, or any weakenesse found in the woman: we are bound to aduise them, but haue no licence to accuse thē. Many times the husbande is in fault, and ouer easely gyueth credite vnto his friends, neighbours, and also to his seruants, the whiche if they aduertise him of any euill of his wife: it is not so much for the zeale of his honour, as it is for the malice they beare vnto hir. Also it is hurtfull vnto the husband to bée conuersant with euill mē: by the infamie that may procéede of their conuersation, for there be some men so euill and of so farre a fetch, that they procure friendshippe with the husbād, to no other purpose, than to haue an entrie more sure to deale with his wife. It may be well suffred, that the neighbour, the friend, the kinsman, and the acquainted with the husband may haue friendship with the wife, but no familiaritie: bycause friendship requireth no more but communication, but famili∣aritie leadeth to conuersation. I am not of the opinion, that a man should haue such confidence in any man: that certaynly he durst say, vpon my vow I assure thée, that I entred suche a mans house, and with hys wife did eate, laugh, and play, talke, and passe the tyme: bycause she is muche my good Mistresse, friende, and deuoute. I defye that friende that hathe no other pastime but with hys friendes wife. That

which is tollerable to be said in such cases, is: that such a man is my friend,* 1.477 and his wife of some acquaintance: bycause it is an olde prouerb That the wife and the sword may be shewed, but not lent: If vnto the husbande there happen any infamy for bringing his friend to house, & to bring him acquainted with his wife, let him complaine of him selfe that was the cause, and not of his wife that stumbled.

Plutarch sayth, that it was a law amongst the Parthians, that the wiues might not hold other particular acquaintance, but the friendes of their husbandes: in such wise, that amongst those barbarous people, the goods they helde was not onely common, but also the friendes that they loued. I should think it good, that the wife should loue the friendes of hir husband, and that the husband should loue the kindred of his wife: by∣cause if he will obtaine peace in his house, he ought to be ser∣ued of his wife, & of hir kinred honoured. The husband ought not to be so wilfull or carelesse, that when the kinred of his wife shall come to house, that he leaue to talke with them, & to entertaine them with some cheare: bycause it should be vn∣to hir no small disgrace, and vnto him great want of good na∣ture. Sometime also the wiues do conceiue affections, and take in hand friendships to be excused (although not suspici∣ous) for the sustayning wherof, they come to some quarelles with their husbands, and also sometime vnto extréem vnkind∣nesse, the whiche I alowe not, neither muche lesse do I coun∣sell: bycause the honest or honorable and aduised woman, hath to hold no frendship so deare: that it may be sufficient to bréede vnkindnesse with hir husband. In any honest woman it is not tollerable to say, this is my friend: but to say this is of my acquaintance: bycause the maried woman ought to haue none for enemie, and onely hir husbande to hold for friend. Also it séemeth not well vnto me, that some women be to much af∣fectioned, passioned, and bending, the which sometimes for de∣fence of their friends and to stand forth to helpe their parties: do mete their haire by the fistes,* 1.478 and also take vp dust with their shoulders.

That women ought to gather and to sow.

ALso it is a right necessary counsell, that maried women do learne, and also know very well to gouerne their houses, which is to wéete, to gather, to sowe, to worke, to swéepe, to play the Cooke, and to sow with the néedle:* 1.479 bycause they be thinges so necessary, that with out them, they them selues can not liue, and much lesse content their husbandes. Suetonius doeth say, that Augustus the Emperour commaunded the La∣dyes his children, to learne all the offices & qualities where∣with a woman might liue & be maintained, and whereof she ought to boast hir selfe: in such wise, that al which they did weare, they did spin and weaue. For the greatnes of any gen∣tlewomās estate, or noblenes of bloud, or estimation of great welth, so well doth a rocke become hir girdle, as a knight his launce, or a priest his booke. When the Romanes vpon a cer∣taine wager, did send from the wars to Rome, to vnderstande what euery mans wife did at home: amongst them all, the most famous and most praysed was the chast Lucrece, & for no other cause, but for that she onely was found weauing, and al the rest idle. If they say vnto one, that amongst the nobles it is a matter of no account to vnderstande in these simplicities: to this I aunswere, that the honest woman hath not to be a∣shamed to spinne, and to lay vp, but to eate, rest, and talke: by∣cause the honour of a gentlewoman doth not consist to be set at hir ease, but to be in businesse. If women would take pain in their houses,* 1.480 we should not sée in the stréets so many cast a∣way, bycause in this worlde there is not so mortal an enemie vnto Chastitie, as is idlenesse. A womā that is young, in helth, at libertie, fair, lusty, and taketh hir ease, what is it that she thinketh leaning vpon a cusshin? That which she performeth is, to set hir down at leysure, to deuise what forme she may vse for liberty to lose hir selfe: in such wise, that she deceyueth all men, saying that she is good, and on the other part she enioyeth hir lyfe at pleasure. What a delight is it to sée a woman rise earlye in the morning, to stirre about, hir kerchiefe not all

drest, hir coate tuckt vp, hir armes bare, without slippers, chyding with the maydens, calling vp seruantes, and dressing hir children? What a pleasure is it to sée hir make hir owne partlet, to wash hir clothes, to ayre hir Wheate, to syfte hir Meale, to gather hir things together, to bake hir bread, to swéepe the house, to make the fyre, and to set on the pot: and after meate to take hir cusshin for boane lace, or hir rock to spinne?* 1.481 there is no husband in this worlde that is so foolish or vnsensible, that wil not like his wife much better on the sater∣day when she worketh, than on the Sonday when she fristeth. I like not well of those women, that knowe no other thing but to goe to bedde at one, rise at eleuen, goe to dinner at twelue, and talke till night: and more and besides this, they know no∣thing but to trimme their chamber where they shall lye, and to dresse a withdrawing place wher to worke in, in such wise, that such be not borne but to eate, sléepe, rest, and talke. Lea∣uing apart the chamber wherein they sléepe, and the place where they worke, if you make a turne about the rest of the house, you will be ashamed to sée it, & lothed to walke in it. where all things lieth disordred, and worse swept: in suche wise, that many Gentlewomē to mayntaine an estate, make their house a stable. For a woman to be good, it is no small help to be alwayes in businesse:* 1.482 and by the contrary, we sée no other thing, but that the idle woman goeth always pensitiue. Let all maner of women beleue me, that in any wyse they busie their daughters in some honest exercise for I giue them to vnderstand (if they know not,) that of idle moments, and wanton thoughtes, they come to make euill conclusions. No more but that our Lord be in your procéeding:

from Granada the .4. of maye .1524. yeares.

A letter vnto Mosen Rubin of Valentia, wherein he answe∣reth to certayne notable demaunds. A letter very con∣uenient, for the woman that marrieth an olde man.

RIght worshipfull aunciente, renued with youthely motion, youre Letter read and considered, that which I con∣ceyue and comprehende thereof, is, that it contayneth much writing, and commeth written in very grosse pa∣per, whereof it may very well be in∣ferred, that you haue wast time, and want of money. Small comforte shoulde he haue at youre handes, that at thys instant should craue youre almes for a Cote,* 1.483 that hathe not a Maruedye to buy a shéete of paper: Althoughe I holde it for most cer∣tayne, that if you haue not at this present a Mareuedy to buy paper, at other times you vse to set an hundred Duckats at a rest. The property and condition of Players is, some∣tymes to haue greate abundaunce, and at other times to suf∣fer greate lacke, in suche wise, that to daye hauing too ma∣ny Duckats to play, on the morrowe they haue not to paye for their dinner. I haue sayde it many times, and also writ∣ten in my doctrines: that I enuy not these gamesters for the money that they win, but at the sighes that they gyue: by∣cause, if they cast the dice with courage, with great sighes they wish their chaunce. But comming to the purpose of youre de∣maunde, and answering to youre request: I saye, that if to all the demaundes of youre letter, I shall not aunswer with grace and good eloquence, impute the fault to my disgrace, and also vnapte disposition. And the cause of my disgrace endu∣reth not to be written with inke in paper. But it suffiseth a man to be at Court, where be few things to be commended, but many to the contrary. Sir you write vnto me to aduertise you of my opiniō of y^e bailiwick of Orihnela, which y^e Quéene

hathe giuen you, and the garde of the frontires of Caspe, whither the Moores of Pampe do passe, and they of Affrica do enter. To this I aunswere, that you haue to make small ac∣counte, that the Quéene hath giuen you the charge of Iustice if god deny you his grace: bycause preheminent offices, by ver∣tues be conserued, but heroicall vertues amongs offices, do runne in perill. In him that administreth Iustice, it is neces∣sary he haue good Iudgement to giue sentence, temperance in his speche, patience to suffer, good counsell to discerne, good dis∣position to Iustice, and fortitude to execute. If in the budget of your household stuffe, you finde your selfe furnished with all these kind of goods: you may safely be Iudge of Orihnela, and also gouernour of Valentia. And if your abilitie stretch not so farre, it should be more sounde counsell for you, to kepe your house, than to bring your honour in question and disputati∣on. Also you wright vnto me, to aduertise you what was con∣tained in the countesse of Concentainas letter, which the quéene shewed me. That which passed in this case, is: that the Earle of Concentaina being dead, my Lady the Countesse presently did wright vnto y^e vassalles of y^e Earldōr, a certaine letter of the sorrow and griefe of hir husbands death: and in the ende and conclusion of the letter, they placed according to the man∣ner of such Ladies and widowes, which is to witte, the sorow∣full and most vnfortunat countesse, and added ther vnto in y^e place of y^e firme therof, two great blottes. The letter being receyued, and redde by hir vassals, in their counsell before all men: they aduised to aunswere my Lady the Countesse, and also to giue hir to vnderstande, of the sorowe they conceiued of the death of the Earle hir husband and their Lorde. And it séemed good vnto them, that since she hadde changed the stile of hir firme, that also they were bounde too alter the stile of their letter: In which, the superscription therof saide thus: Vnto our sorrowfull Ladye and moste vnfortunate coun∣tesse of Concentayna: withinin the vpper face of the letter, where they place the woordes of curtesy and congratu∣lation, was after this manner: Righte magnificente and

most sorowfull Lady: at the end where was sayd, by the ordi∣nance of y^e coūsell, iustice, & gouernours, were made thrée das∣shes much blotted, in such wise, that according to the tenor of hir writing, she answered: My Lady the Countesse receyued no small offence thereof, and yet with good grace she sayd vn∣to me, that she wished the error had passed by one mans faulte, and not as it was by all their consents. Also you write vnto me to aduertise you how it standeth with Mosen Burela, since the time he receyued that so great distresse in Xatina: Sir vnto this I answer, that vnto me he giueth great sorow to beholde him, and no lesse compassion to heare him: bycause I sée hym wander laden with thoughts, and no lesse forsaken of friends. Beléeue me sir and be out of doubt, that he falleth not in all this world, y^t falleth not out of his princes fauour, bycause y^e fashion or stile of Court is, that the priuate and in fauoure, knoweth not himselfe, & with the fall, and out of fauoure, no mā will grow aquainted. The houses and Courts of Princes be very fortunate vnto some, & no lesse perillous vnto others: bycause there, either they preuayle and growe very greate, or else vtterly lose themselues. All Courtiers séeme to me, to re∣semble the Bée, or else the Spider: wherin there be some per∣sons in Court so fortunate, that all thinges whereon they lay hands, turneth to golde, and others so vnlucky, that all which they pretend cōuerts to smoke. As concerning our Mosen Bu∣rela, I can say vnto you, that he is thoroughly smoked, as tou∣ching his honor: and no lesse stumbled and falne in respect of his goodes, bycause he hath lost the office that he held, and the credite wherwith he was sustayned. Sir, also you wrighte to me, to aduertise you of the state of the Sonnes of Vasko Bello, your friend and my neighbour: to this I answer, that their pa∣rents hauing past their liues in the trade of merchants, they haue conuerted themselues to the state of Gentlemen: and to the end you vnderstād me better, I say, they be not of y^e Gen∣tlemen of auncient right, but suche as haue obtayned by prise and purchase, bycause their goodes being consumed, I holde their gentry fully finished. In the state that men do get theyr

liuing, in the same they ought to conserue themselues: for o∣therwise, of rich Merchantes, they become poore Seruantes. The Sonnes of Vesko Bello haue quartered their goodes, as if they should haue quartered the same by iustice: for the one part they haue giuen to women, another to banquets, another to dice, and the other to wanton deuises, in such wise, that that which their fathers gate in Fayres, they spend and consume in follies. Sir, also you write me to aduertise you of my iudge∣ment, of a certayne new marriage that they offer you in Vil∣lena with a woman that is rich, yong, fayre, gentle, and aboue all of good report and fame.

As concerning the first, Sir I can say vnto you, that such a marriage as this, is of many desired, and of few obtayned, by∣cause there is not in this world, a woman so perfect and accō∣plished, y^e hath all in hir, that of hir husband may be wished, & nothing found in hir to be remoued & reiected. There be some Gentlewomen, the whiche if they on the one part be riche, of gentle bloud, yong, and faire, they hold on the other part, a cer∣taine ouerthwartnesse in condition, and certain frowardnesse in conuersation, that their husbāds hold it for lesse euill to dis∣semble that they sée, thā to chide or grow angry for that which they féele. Leauing this apart, Sir you haue to consider, that if she be yong, you are old: and if she be fayre, you are hoare hea∣ded: and that it is not sufficient that she doe content you, but that she also of you haue very good liking: for otherwise, shée walking with a crooked face, you shall passe with hir a very tedious life. Amongst the married, it is lesse euill that misli∣king do happen vnto the man, than vnto the woman: bycause the husband if he be wise, can dissemble his griefe: but y^e wife, neyther can she dissemble it, neyther yet kéepe silence. If the wife which they giue you, be rich, I hold it for profitable: if she be fayre, I hold it for delectable: if she be of gentle bloud, I hold it for honorable: but if she be yong, I holde it for perillous, by∣cause she shall haue wherefore to sigh, to sée you so old: and you shal not wāt, wherfore to watch, to sée hir so yong. I cānot say in whether of you both I may lay the blame, or rather which

I may not blame: you, for choosing, or she in accepting: bycause a yong wench of twenty yeares, with an old man of thréescore yeares, is a life of two yeares. Consider well what you doe, and haue regard what you take in hande, and be aduised with whome you marry: for a man of so greate an age, to marry with so tender yeares, from henceforward I prophesy, that ei∣ther she shall hate you, or else defame you, eyther else finish or make an end of you. Sir, finally I say, that if you will accept my counsell, and escape anger and displeasure, you shall kéepe your house, and procure and follow your profit: and if you wil néedes marry, you shall marrie with the fatlings of Algezi, with the lambs of Polop, with the white wine of Monuiedro, and with the Claret of Venicarlo, the whiche shall yéelde you substance, and enlarge your life. No more but that I incom∣mend my selfe, to the grace of the Lady Leonora of Villa noua.

From Granado the xij. of February. Anno. 1526.

A letter to the Chanon Osorius: wherein is declared, that we know not the things that profit or hurt vs in this life.

REuerende Chanon, Cornelius Rufus in the late time of Omitus Cincinatus, lying one night in his bed in good health, dreamed that he had lost his sighte, so as he was constrayned to be lead like a blind man, which afterward was found true, for awaking from sléepe he was so depri∣ued of sight, that he neuer after could sée either heauē or earth. Phalaris the Theban being gréeuously sicke of a disease in hys lungs, enterprised himselfe to enter into battell, wherin he re∣ceyued a wound with a Speare, and suche was his fortune, that he was not only healed of the hurt which in the battel he receyued, but was also discharged and cured of his former ma∣lady. Mamilius Bubulus king of Hetruria receyuing in battaile a wound with an arrowe whiche entred his body vp to the feathers, the same being drawen out, the head thereof re∣mayning still in hys fleshe, had afterwardes by fortunes

fauour this good chaunce, one day going to chase, in pursute of a Hart was cast downe Horse and man into a ditche, out of which mishappe sprang his better lucke, for by meanes of the same he voyded from him the arrow head before left and clo∣sed in his flesh, and became afterwards more healthfull than euer he was before. So as we may inferre by that which hath bin sayd, that men full little know what is profitable or hurt∣full to them: sure it appeareth that Cornelius Rufus sléeping in his bed became blind, Phalaris the Thebane by hurt of a speare recouered remedie of his former sicknesse: and Mamilius by mishappe of a fall to receyue happie auoydance of the arrowe head whiche before lay closed in his flesh. Wherefore I con∣clude and say that all the chaunces of this present life haue in themselues alone no more good or euill than according to their sequele and effect they bring, so that if we find they haue con∣clusion to our liking, we count them happie and good: and if contrary to our desires and expectatiō they bring misfortune, vnfortunate and euill, which giueth me iust cause to say that we should not for any flatterie of fortune, or of any good hap be proude, nor yet for any hir frownings and contrary haps despaire. I haue made all this recitall before, to gratify your new recouered health and the departure of your sicknesse, that is to say, that hauing bin thrée yeares gréeuously sicke of a feuer quartan, there hath hapned to your mind some so greate a griefe that the force thereof suffred to driue and beate the quartaine from your house, which maketh me once twice and thrice to affirme that we know not what to require to be hel∣ping to vs, bycause diuers times with greate care we séeke that we should flée and eschue, and we flée from that we shuld with all diligence séeke and follow. Amongst the high pre∣cepts of the diuine Plato this was one, that we shuld not pray to the Gods to giue vs this or that, but with importunat pray∣er to require, that it would please them to giue vs that which stoode with deuine pleasures best to bestow, and to our néede most commodious. The Hebrewes being long time ruled by Iudges, demaunded of God a King to gouerne them, whome

they might obey, which God performed, rather to satisfye their earnest petitiō, than of any procéeding from his merciful plea∣sure: he gaue them suche a person to their King, as it had bin better for thē neuer to haue demanded or had any at all. Now be it as it be may, or happen what shall happen, I returne a∣gayne to reioyce with you for y^e departure of your troublesome feuer, and the bitter anger whiche hathe chaced it from you: though I remember not that euer I red and much lesse heard the Lady Sorrowe at any time caused any good thing to happē vnto vs. I certify you Sir Chanon, if al the diseases might be cu∣red like yours with heauinesse and sadnesse, pensiuenesse and cares would then be more déere in our hearts, than Rubarb is now in the Apoticaries shops: and if we shoulde buy sighes, sobbes, and teares in the market for money, I assure you very many both men and women woulde thereby grow excéeding riche and happie, whiche nowe are poore and vnfortunate, by∣cause sorow with euery body is so common, that there is ney∣ther corner nor place so secret wherein she is not found. Tou∣ching my selfe I tell you, if the sighes I haue breathed, and the sorow I haue endured, might serue for medicines to cure the quartaine, I would be bound to set vp such a Shoppe of those merchandizes, that it should serue both Spayne and Fraunce. I haue séene many in this world whereof some wanted their eyes, some their eares, and some their hands: othersome lacke houses, others goodes, and some other apparrell: But I neuer knew nor heard of person were he neuer so poore that had not sorrow and griefe: so is there no house in the world so rich, that sometimes wanteth not money, and of enuies and sorrowes is neuer destitute. Sadnesse saith Salomon drieth y^e sinowes, and cōsumeth the bones, which by you cannot be proued, since it is apparant, that melancholy sullennesse hathe not wasted your bones, but purged youre body of all euill humors and re∣stored your health. Now from hencefoorth, if any one come to visit you whē you are sicke, he cannot (as I thinke) more plea∣sure you thā to giue or minister occasiō to moue you to choler. But sir I curse your complexion and hate your cōditiōs, since

anger, enuie, and sorrowe muste bée your Phisitions to cure your maladies, for men that be reasonable, doo vsually gyue money to inioy myrth and solace, and to escape som sorrowes and troubles. Now if you will beléeue mée, and hereafter fo∣lowe myne aduice, bée gladde for the losse of your quartayne, but say not that you dryue him from you with anger & gréefe. For I sweare to you by the law of a fréende, if you do, that all men wyll therefore diffame you, and saye that you are com∣pounded and furnished with cholericke, aduste, and euill com∣plexion: but for this matter let this suffise. There bée many things héere in the Courte to be talked of in secrete, and fewe to be written openly. For murmurings bée matters of coun∣sell, and my letters ofte passe through many mens fingers, which when they cannot rightly vnderstand & perceyue their effect, then euerye one iudgeth and gloseth thereof after theyr owne deuise and opinion. I praye God be your guyde, & gyue vs grace euermore to feare him.

A letter to Count Masaoth Marques of Cenolte, wherin is expressed why amongst the sectes of Mahomet, some be termed Turkes, Sarracenes, and others, Moores.

HOnorable Lord and singular frende, it is now ten dayes paste since you requested mée in the Emperours chāber, to resolue you one doubt, the which to doo I haue searched with payne, and vsed what diligence I possibly myghte: holding it but iustice to submit my trauell to your cōmaundement, that neuer denyed mée any thing which I requested of you: desiring you withall to respect, that if I séeme long in satisfying your demaunde, it is not want of dili∣gence to searche, but of good happe quickly to finde that which I séeke, and you desire to haue, bycause a man of youre state and calling, muste bée serued with truthes and reason, and not with fabling vncerteynties. Your Lordships desire is to

know why the greate Turke is termed the Greate Turke: and wherefore the followers of Mahomets feete be called Sar∣racens, some Mores, and some Turkes, being all of the lawe and religion of their only god and Lord Mahomet? For the dis∣cussing of the which doubte, and for that you may the better vnderstande my resolution of the same: I am forced to re∣cite the historie to you (as it were from the firste or begin∣ning. Vnderstande my Lorde,* 1.484 that Asia the lesse is a region whiche with many other Regions is inclosed, all which ge∣nerally are called greate Turquie: it boundeth towardes the Easte, on the confynes of Arabia minor: on the west it is en∣closed with the great lake Cynia: and on the north side with the floude Euponius: and on the southe coste it is walled with the mounte Pithmiaus. In this Turquie néere to Armenia, by the greate hill Paton, was an auncient Citie named Truconia, whereof the inhabitantes were named Truconians, after the name of the Citie. Within this Citie Gothes did come to in∣habite, who bycause they coulde not call it Traconia, pronoun∣ced and called it Turquie, and Cityzens Turkes: so that the worde Turquy is a name corruptly come from the worde Traconie. Within the countrey of Turquie is sundry prouin∣ces: as the Prouince of Licaonia, whereof the chéefe citie is Icaonia: Likewyse Cappadocia, the chéefe whereof is Cosaria: the Prouince Isanca, whose heade citie is Solenna, which now is called Briquemust: the countrie called Icaonia, whose chéefe citie is Fer, in olde tyme named Quisguaince: also Paflagonia, whose capitall or Metropolicke towne is Gernapolis, in which moste properly ended the whole Asia. And as within this cuntry of Turquy is conteyned many seuerall countryes and prouinces, so hath it euer bene peopled with men of seuerall cuntries and nations, as with Asians, Gréekes, Armenians, Sarracenes, Iacobines, Iewes, and Christians: The whiche albeit they acknowledge the Greate Turke for chéefe Lorde, yet notwithstāding they were not all in obedience to one kind of lawe and religion.

In like manner you must note that in the kingdome of Pa∣lestina, which bordereth vpon Damas, there were thrée Arabies, as Arabia Silapide,* 1.485 that nowe is Siria maior: Arabia deserta, ioy∣ning vpon Egypt: and Arabia Petrosa, which is compassed with Iudea. In Arabia Petrosa, by the floud Iordanus néere the mount Libanus, ther dwelt an ancient kinde of people called Saracyns, which were so called after the name of Sartato their chiefe and Metropolitan Citie, which at this present be still so named Sa∣racyns. This kind of people in times past were much estéemed for their strength and valiantnesse in warres, and were then had in reputation therefore, as the Swissers are accompted of at this day in Europa, in such wise, that no Prince durst enter∣prise against any other to battell, except he were ayded with the strength of Saracyns. It chaunced that Heraclius a Romane Emperour passing through Asia to inuade the Persians, reque∣sted ayde of the Saracyns in the same voyage and iorney, to whome he promised good vsage and true pay, the Saracyns a∣gréeing to Heraclius request, came throughly furnished with 40000 footemen souldiars, whose Captaine generall was a gentleman of their own countrey called Mahomet, a man sub∣till in witte, of valiant hart, and fortunate in exployt of war, as he manifested most puisantly by obtayning more honour than any other in the Campe, whereby he grew in dayly re∣putation amongst his owne companions, and more fearefull than the Wolfe is to the Shéepe, to the hearts of his enemies, which hanging the times of these warres, caused the Empe∣rour Heraclius to fauoure him aboue all others. The warres ended, and licence giuen for all the straungers to departe, he sent the Saracyns away discontented and not wel payed, which moued them, and their generall Mahomet to rayse mutine and coniuration, in suche wyse, that they assayled Palestina, whyche before they had subdued, and inuaded the countreys of Aegypt, Damas, the two Syrias, Pentapolis, and Antioch, with∣out resistaunce of any person.

Here also you must vnderstande, that Mahomet was by his father a Gentile, and by his mother a Iewe, whyche is the

cause why he was fostred in Iudea. He held one Sergius which was infected with the heresies of Arius and Nestor, a very am∣bitious man, for his especiall friende. By whome Mahomet vnderstanding well, what honour and reuerence the Saracyns yeelded vnto him: and accompting him selfe their head and chiefe, determined to become their King & lawegiuer, to the end, as King to be reputed, and for lawmaker to be worship∣ped. And as thys mōster Mahomet had a Gētile to his father, a Iew to his mother, and a Christian Heretique to his chiefe friend and instructer: so each of them vsed their seueral lawes: out of whiche thrée he determined to elect one, to satisfye, or more properly speaking, to delude all nations. Thus this mis∣creant (nothing regarding the soules health, nor due reforma∣tion of the common state, but thristing after the renoune of a Prince during life, and the fame of their lawgiuer after death) instituted and published a sect, or rather a rabble of ab∣hominable preceptes, and detestable counsells: thereby to chaunge the vertuous, and therewith to delight the vicious and wicked.

In the yeare 630. Heraclitus inferred and began his warres against the Persians, and in the yeare 632. the warres ended. In y^t yeare 632. Mahomet by conquest subdued the greatest part of Asia, and in the yeare 636. he gaue his lawes to the Saracyns his countrymen, the which he first brought into Arabia Petrosa, not by preaching in worde, but murdering with sword. The gouernment of the East thus resting, it chaunced in the yeare 642. that an infinite number of barbarous people, passing by the stréetes of the mountaynes Caucasus, to inuade that part of Asia Minor that bordereeh on Asia Maior, whose comming brought good successe to the Nations adioyning. These peo∣ple by discent were of thrée mighty rude countries, that is, of the Scithians, now called Persia, of the Panoniās now named Hun∣garia, and of the Escaines nowe called Denmarcia: whiche bar∣barians departed foorth of their natiue soyle, as it is iudged, constrayned with penurie and want of victualls, as also with the Ciuill warres which they had amongst themselues. For

being without a gouernour, they liued by robbing and pilling one from another, euermore driuing the weakest to the worst. Whereat Mahomet astonied at this their arriuall, and séeing the Scithes and Paenonians dayly more and more to endamage Asia, and to become so stout, as to furnish themselues with pla∣ces of defence, he determined with a mighty power of Saracyns to encounter them. This thing dismayed the Barbarians, and caused them to assemble togither, where they chose one Tran∣golipique for their general, a man in warres much fortunate, and in peace most vicious.

Now the warres of the Scithians and Saracyns grew so hote, so long, and so cruell, that in thrée yeares and a halfe was soughten sixe mightie and bluddy battells, wherein Fortune declared hir mutabilitie, for to the Saracyns she was vnfriend∣ly, and to the Scithians nothing fauorable, sometimes gyuing victory to the one side one day, and tryumph to the other side on the next day. Which the Scithians well noting, and percey∣uing that their number was muche decreased by meanes of those warres: and also the Saracyns beholding the presente spoyle of their countr•…•…▪ they agréed amongst themselues vp∣pon Articles ensuing, to continue friends for euer: that is, that the Scithes shoulde receyue the lawe of Mahomet, and that the Saracyns should giue them that countrey to inhabite. Whyche accordingly tooke effect, and was concluded in the yeare 647. that the Saracyns and Turks became friends and confederates, and from that time forwarde, did wholly submit themselues to the obedience of Mahomet, taking him for king, and vowing fidelitie to his lawes.

Strabo, Plynie, Pomponius Mela, and Gelaton, whiche haue described all countries in the worlde, make little accompte of Turkie before suche time as the Scythes beganne to inhabite the same, who in the end became so strong, and the Great Turk and Turquy so famous, as at this day it is reputed one of the most renowmed Empyres in the world.

How the loue of Mahomet entred Africa.

VNderstand you, that in the yeare 698. a puissant Pirat na∣med Abeuchapeta, passed from Asia into Africa, leading with him 70. Galleys and 100. other vessels furnished for his exployte, with which he pilled, & pirased, such as he met with∣all by Seas, and did also many times much hurt on the firme land. This Abeuchapeta was a man valiant, hardie, and rich: and a Saracyne obseruing the law of Mahomet, of whome the Arabian Historiographers reporte, that he neuer sacked anye Towne that would submit thēselues to him, nor raunsomed to libertie any persone that he had taken prisoner. This com∣panion (for so hencefoorth will I terme him,) vnderstanding that in the Realme of the Moores, (otherwise called the coun∣trie of Mauritania, and now called the kingdome of Marrucos) were extreme cruell and ciuill warres: he determined to ha∣sten thither with his fléete, and to establish himselfe Lorde of all: who passing y^e straites Giberaltare, and being arriued vpon firme lande, immediately practised to acquaint himselfe with one of the chéefe bands of the Moores, by which policie in short time he obtayned afterward to be chéefe of the Realme, and compelled them secretly to accept and obserue the Mahometi∣call lawes and religion, by killing some and banishing others. Whereby it came to passe, that such as this cōpanion brought thither with him, and the subdued inhabitantes of Marrucos, were the first in Africa that togythers imbraced the lawes of Mahomet, who as before time were alwayes called Moores, do still at this presente and euer after continue the name of Moores or Morisques: so that the inhabitants of Thunies, whych be those of Tunis, and the Numidians whiche are the people of Fesse, and the Maurentines, which are the people of Marrucos, be al generally tearmed by the name of Moores: though y^e countries do much differ in scituatiō. This then is the resolution of your letter, and the aunswere to youre demaunde: that the name Saracyns was first found in Arabia, where Mahomet was borne: the name Turkes inuented in Asia, where Mahomet

remayned, and the name of Moores establed in Africa, when the lawe of Mahomet was there first receyued.

Now resteth it to discouer vnto your Lordship, wherefore this name Greate is attributed to the Turke, seeing it is a title which none but he vseth: other Princes being onely and sim∣ply called by the names of Kings or Emperours.

For better vnderstanding whereof, knowe you, that in the yeare 1308. when Michael Palealogos was Emperour of Con∣stantinople, and Bonifacius the 8. chiefe Byshop of Rome. There sprang amōgst the Turkes a family of Othomans, much for∣tunate & famous ouer all Asia, in such sort that those Turkes surnamed Othomans, enlarged the limits of their rule, and re∣uenewes of their crowne, more in 200. yeares, than any of their predecessors had in 800. These Othomans discended of base linage, and were naturally of Prusea thrée dayes iorneys from Trapezoncia. The first Prince of this nation called Otho∣man, tooke this name vppon him at his erecting of a Castle in the cuntrey of Gallana, which he did to perpetuate y^e memorie of the Othomans name.* 1.486 This Othoman the first subdued ma∣ny prouinces of the Kings his adioyning neighbours, he wan all that which stretched from Bithynia vnto the Sea Cocsin. He brought to his obedience many fortresses, towardes the Sea Pontick and all the Cities standing on the Sea costs named Teutonica, with the Towne of Sina, aunciently named Sebastia. Leauing to succeede him his only sonne named Orchanees,* 1.487 se∣cond Emperour of the Turkes of the race of Othomans, whiche conquered many prouinces from the Empyre of Palialogos: but especially he obtained the countries of Lycaonia, Phrygia, Missina, and Carye: he tooke by force Prusia, now called Bursia, which was the abiding seate of the Kyngs of Bythynie in whiche he recey∣ued his mortall wound in the firste yeare of the raigne of Iohn King of Fraunce.* 1.488 To whome succeeded Amurathes his sonne, who imitating the steppes of hys Father and Grandfather, in passing an arme of the Sea Hellispont in Abidie, to inuade the Greekes, tooke Galiapolys with diuers other Townes, and afterwardes suddaynely with a mightie power sette

vpon the Emperor of Constantinople, that nothing mistrusted him, and wanne Seruia and Bulgaria, but in the ende he was killed by a seruitor.

After Amurathes succéeded by succession two infants,* 1.489 Soly∣man and Baiazeth, which by treason murdred his brother Soly∣man, whereby he alone enioyed the Empire of Turkie, and to reuenge the murdering of his father, hée attempted sharpe warres agaynst Marke the Lorde of Bulgaria, whome he van∣quished and flewe, and subdued a greate parte more of his country. Shortly after he ouercame the prouinces of Hunga∣ria, Albania, and Valachia, and there committing many spoyles and dammages, he tooke diuers christian prisoners, which he ledde in miserable captiuitie into Thracia, to whiche Baiazeth succéeded in right of inheritance two infants, one named Ma∣homet, and the other Orchanees, which by his vnnatural bro∣ther Mahomet, was depriued of lyfe, so as the gouernment of the Empire was wholly in Mahomet, who by might conque∣red the Valachians, and layde vpon them a gréeuous tribute: after, hée inuaded the Satrapes of Asia, and recouered all the countries whiche the greate Tamberlens souldiers before had taken: hée chased his owne kynred and aliaunce from Gala∣cie, Pontus, & Capadocia, not sparing, nor once pitying any no∣ble personages or princes of his own bloud. He alwaies kept himselfe in Drinople, the Metropolike Citie of Thracia, there placing his imperiall seate: from thence exiling such Christi∣ans as were remayning and inhabiting there in the seuen∣téenth yeare of his Empire.

To this Mahomet succéeded his sonne called Amurathes, hée ordayned first the Ianissayres, (runnagate christians to defend his person) by whose valiancie, hée togither with his succes∣sors haue subdued the East. With force he inuaded Hungaria, Bosina, Albania, Vallachia, and Grecia: he toke Thessalonia from the Venetians, he obtayned victorie against Laodislaus king of Polo∣nia, against the Cardinall Iulian, and against Huniades.

When Amurathes was deade, his sonne named Mahomet,* 1.490 succéeded in his place, whiche with homicide entred his go∣uernement:

for, bycause his father shoulde not be buryed a∣lone, hée slewe his yoonger broother, to kéepe companie with his deade father. This wicked Prince beleeued in no God: hée affirmed Mahomet a false Prophete, like vnto himselfe. Hée also scorned all Saintes, Patriarches, and Prophetes. This Mahomet was of hearte lyke Alexander the greate, in good fortune a Cesar, in trauell a Haniball, in Iustice a Trai∣an, in vyces a Lucullus, and in cruelties a seconde Nero. Hée was of greate courage, well fauoured, euyll coloured, friend to Iustice, and hyghly delyghted in martiall affayres. Hée was in féeding a glutton, and in the actes of Venus much im∣pacient: To hunting an enimie, and to Musicke no friend. Hée delyghted to exercyse him selfe sometymes with feates of armes, and sometymes in reading histories. This Ma∣homet conquered from the Christians the Empire of Con∣stantinople and Trapezonda. Hée wanne twoo hundred townes and twelue Realmes, that is to saye: Pontus, Bythinia, Ca∣padocia, Pamphilia, Licia, Sicilia, Papblagonia, Acbaria, Lydia, Phrygia, Hellespont, and Morea: Hée also wanne the Segnio∣ries of Achaia, Carcania, and Epyrus, and all the Fortes and Cities néere the ryuer Randabelo. Hée likewyse obtayned a greate parte of Macedonia, and of the Prouince of Bulgaria, togyther with the lande of Roscia, and the mountaynes Serbye, euen to the lake Nicomante. Moreouer bée conque∣red all the Cities, Prouinces, and Fortresses that were be∣twéene Andrinopolis, and the famous ryuer Danubia and Ba∣laquian: also the Isle Mitilene, and the foresayde Bosina. These and muche more did this miscreaunt Mahomet vanquishe and subdue. And yet notwithstanding, as Historiographers reporte,* 1.491 hée woulde amongest his wayghtie affayres con∣sume muche tyme in abhominable vyces. This was hée, whiche firste acquyred to himselfe the glorious tytle and name of Greate Turke and Emperour, of all the house and race of Othomans, whose predecessoures before his tyme were alwayes intytuled Kings or Turkes. He raygned thir∣tie twoo yeares, and dyed of the Collicke foure dayes af∣ter

hée syckened, in the yeare of our sauiour Christ. 1492. In whiche yeare of this Tirantes deathe, was the Citie of Granado taken by the King Don Ferdinando. To this Ma∣homet succéeded in Empyre and name of Greate Turke, a seconde Baiazeth, who, in his Fathers lyfe,* 1.492 by procurement of the Ianissayres, and in the hope of theyr ayde, purposed to vsurpe the state and Empyre to himselfe. And as the father béeyng nowe verie olde, coulde yéelde no remedie nor re∣uenge to his disloyall sonne, dyed for thought: so was his life, whiche by enimies coulde not bée taken awaye, loste by the enuyes of his children. Now if your Lordshippe desire more amplie to reade the wryters of this historie, I will when it please you, bring them vnto you.

From Tolledo the .7. of Ia∣nuarie. 1533.

A letter to Don Frances of Villoa, expounding certayne straunge and auncient Epitaphes.

MAgnificent and curious Knyght, for answere to the letter whiche Peter de Heredia (maister of youre house) deliuered mée at Carsares the 15. of the moneth paste. I say, that after I had opened it, I stoode long in doubte, whither it shoulde be a letter sent mée from a friende, or the laste will and testament of some one departed: but then, when I better aduised the superscription, I founde it a letter come from Don Frances de Villoa, a friende, nay a singular friende to Fryer Anthonie Gueuara: and to saye truely, after I had perused and considered it, I rather wished twoo dosen of Quailes, and a gammon of Bacon, whereof you haue plentie, than a shéete of paper: for they woulde haue de∣lyghted myne eyes, and nothing haue troubled my me∣morie. But notwithstanding this my pleasaunt speacke, I delyghted muche in the receyte of your letter: whereby I perceyue that your hurte legge is cured, and that presently

you omit all tedious affayres, and onely applye your selfe to pleasant pastymes.

Also, I gather by your letter, that you muche desire to vn∣derstande of the destruction of Spayne, and the signification of certayne Epitaphes, whiche you haue found written in a booke in your coffers, and now you sende thē to me to be expounded. For which I cannot yéeld cōdigne thāks to your gentle hart, which conceyueth of my abilitie suche good opinion, that you iudge my knowledge sufficiente to satisfie you in so high mat∣ters. Wherefore to arme my indeuor to incounter your cur∣tesie, I haue most willingly in this my letter sent you the ex∣position of those Epitaphes, and the discourse of the history, which you so much desire, beginning with the Epitaphes, and ending with the rest.

The first Epitaph.

* 1.493MIhi pater Iupiter Belus auus Saturnus Babilonicus: proauus Chus Saturnus Aethiops: Abanus Saturnus Aegiptius: Atauus Caelus Foenix Ogiges. Ab Ogige ad meum auum solorbem suum circumlustra∣uit semel ac tricies & centies.

Ab Auo ad patrem sexties & quinquagies: A patre ad me bis & sexagies. Columnam, templum, statua, Ioui Belo Socero, & matri Rheoe in olimpo Semiramis dicaui.

Semiramis Quéene of the Assyrians graued this title on a pil∣ler, and dedicated it vnto Belus hir father in law, in the name of hir late husbande Ninus, as then it was vsed amongst thē, which words englished, signifie as followeth.

My father was Iupiter named Belus: my grandfather, Sa∣turnus Babylonicus: my great grandfather was Chus Saturnus Aethiops: The father of my greate grandfather was Saturnus Aegipriacus, and the grandfather of my great grandfather was Celus Faenix Ogiges.

From the time of the fludde vntill Ninus, the sunne hadde performed his course .330. times. Nemroth raigned .56. yeares.

Belus my father raigned .62. yeares. I Semiramis haue dedica∣ted this piller, temple, and Image vnto Belus my father in law, and Rhea his mother in law in Olympia.

Now better to make you vnderstand this antiquitie so aū∣cient, and this age so old, you must note that these wordes Sa∣turnus, Iupiter and Hercules were not proper names, as Peter and Iohn be, but they were common names or titles attribu∣ted to men for their excellencies and dignitie, as the names of Emperours, Kings and Dukes. The most ancient kings that founded any chiefe Towne or Citie within their Realmes or dominiōs, were called Saturni, and their eldest sonnes Iupiters, and their daughters Iuno. Their Nephewes, and the infants of their children, if they were valiant, were called Hercules. And therefore when any Princes successors of the sayde firste founders, did place themselues at any time in other countries to inhabit the same, and founded any new Cities or Townes (as oftentimes they did when their auncesters and predeces∣sors had sufficiently peopled such as they before had buylded) such Princes enioyed a duble title, kéeping the name of Iupiter by right of succession, and the name of Saturne, by reason of their new foundatiō, and so likewise the Princes which sprāg of them by succession, were also named Iupiters in one re∣spect, and Hercules in another: whereof procéedeth the greate number of Iupiters, Saturnes, and Hercules, wherewith histories be so replenished.

Belus was therefore héere intituled by the name of Iupiter, for that he was sonne and successor to Nemroth in the Assirian Empire. Nemroth also was tearmed Saturne Babylonicus, by∣cause he first founded the Citie, and peopled the Realme of Ba∣bylon. Chus was also tearmed Saturnus Aethiopicus, for that he first peopled Aethiopia, and there founded townes and Cities. Cham for y^t he first peopled Egypt was called Saturnus Aegip∣tiacus. These Saturnius were called children of the Heauens and of Earth. Thus haue you now heard the first Epitaph ex∣pounded.

The second Epitaph.

* 1.494C. Man. C. Man. F. inferno Plutoni tricorpori charissimae Proserpinae tricipitique Cerbero munus mecum ferens, damnatam dedo animam vitamque. Hoc me condo monumento, ne obrutis domus lapsu filijs sex, quos Pûblius Scipio patrijs Camertibus ad Salid ex Libia incolumes restitue∣rat, in desolata orbitate supersim. Vixi An. 56. M. 1. D. 5. boras scit nemo: vale vita.

The exposition of the same.

ICaia Manlia, daughter to Caius Manlius, do carry with me mine owne present, for I gyue my condemned soule and life to the in∣fernall three bodied Pluto, and to Proserpina hys most deare spouse, & to the threeheaded Cerberus. I haue enclosed my self in this Sepulchre to lyue in care and griefe abandoned and afflicted. I haue vj. Children slayne most miserably by the fall of a house, af∣ter that Publius Scipio had led them into their countrey of Came∣rin out of Libia trauelling towardes Salia. I lyued lvj. yeares, one moneth, and fiue dayes, but how many houres no man knoweth. Farewell life.

Nowe if memory deceyue me not, and that my bookes bée true, this Epitaph was found in our time in Rome, which was of a woman of Camerin that was burned liuing, bycause in those dayes they were so foolishe and faythlesse, that they e∣stéemed it a thing deseruing prayse, and muche honorable to be buried quicke, or violently to murther themselues with their owne handes: and thus they did to please themselues and serue the Deuill. But lawe diuine and humane doth ma∣nifest nowe vnto vs howe execrable a vice this is, and for∣biddeth euery man to procure his owne death, since we haue our sauioure Christ the author of our life.

The third Epitaph.

Belli potens valida natus de gente Gothorum,* 1.495 Hic cum sex natis Rex Athaolphe iaces: Ausus es Hispanas primus descendere in oras, Quem comitabantur milia multa virum: Gens tua tunc natos & te inuidio sa peremit, Quem post amplexa est Barcino magna gemens.

To vnderstande this Epitaph you must note, that when the Gothes (which were a barbarous and cruell nation of the North) had sacked Italy, as by the ruines remayning it appea∣reth, Athaolphus the 24. their King, determined to haue ouer∣runne Spayne, and to haue spoyled it as they had done Italy, and other places in their way. But when he came and was arri∣ued at Barcelona, he, with vj. of his children, were there by hys owne souldiers trayterously murdred and buried, vpon whose Tomb was placed this Epitaph, with his armes, whiche en∣glished importeth as followeth.

Here lyeth the valiant Athaolphus, with sixe of his children, is∣sued of Gothick bloud: this was the first that aduentured to enter Spayne with an Army, slayne with his owne men, and buried with great teares, in the great Citie of Barcelone.

Sée here the exposition of your Epitaph, and the cause of the fame.

It resteth now to reueale the occasion of the destruction of Spayne, and how the Christians lost the same to the Paynims, concerning which you muste vnderstande, that in the tyme of the raigne of king Roderic (whiche was of y^e line of the Gothes,) there was in Spayne a Prince called Iulian, Earle of Cepta, and Lord of Consuegra: whiche had a daughter of excellent beautie and incomparable wisedome, named Caba. Thys Dame∣sell beyng sent to the Courte to attende vppon the Quéene, to serue hir according to the manner of the Countrey, was cause

of the destruction of Spaine.* 1.496 For the king being surprised with hir loue, (when shée woulde not agrée to accomplishe his in∣ordinate desires) determined by force, if not by loue to inioy hir, béeyng thus drowned in extreme passions, hée defloured hir within his royall Palace. The which when Count Iulian vnderstoode, hée was hyghly offended therewith, and féeling himselfe muche iniured thereby: determined reuenge vpon the kings owne person, to the ende he myght make a perpe∣tuall remembrance of the wrong done by the Prince to him and his defloured daughter.

This Counte Iulian kepte secretely in his stomacke, the mortall hatred hée bare vnto King Roderic: and when hée sawe conuenient tyme, hée made semblance to passe into A∣frica with an armie whiche the King had committed vnto him, where with to repulse the Moores, whiche then inuaded the borders of Spaine. And hauing conferred of his determi∣nations with Muzza Liuetenaunt generall of that Pro∣uince, to the greate Miramamolyn Vlit, hée secretely pra∣ctyzed with him in this sorte, that if hée woulde yéelde him sufficient supplye of souldiers, hée woulde put all Spaine vn∣der his obedience. The whiche when Muzza vnderstoode, hée gaue intelligence thereof to King Miramamolyn, who did not onely in curteous wise accepte the offer of the Count, but also sent him a sufficient army to bring his deuysed pra∣ctize to effect.

The countrie béeyng néere the straites of Giberaltare, was well furnished with men of great courage. He then folowing fortune, béeyng stirred forwarde by his wife, and the iniury whiche he had receyued, reiecting all loue of his cuntry, & re∣nouncing obedience to his Prince: Sodenly as hée had im∣barked his army of Moores in foure ships, and strongly forti∣fied himselfe, he reuealed to his friends and kinred the iniury which the king had done him by deflouring his daughter, and requested their friendly succour in his enterprise so waighty. Wherevnto they assenting, sent him aide both of men & mo∣nie:

Sée here the exposition of your Epitaph, and the cause of the fame.

It resteth now to reueale the occasion of the destruction of Spaine, and how the Christians lost the same to the Paynims, concerning which you muste vnderstande, that in the tyme of the raigne of king Roderic (which was of y^e line of the Gothes,) there was in Spaine a Prince called Iulian, Earle of Cepta, and Lorde of Consuegra: whiche had a daughter of excellent beau∣tie and incomparable in wisedome, named Caba. This dam∣sell beyng sent to the Courte to attende vppon the Quéene, to serue hir according to the manner of the cuntrie, was cause of the destruction of Spaine.* 1.497 For the King being surprised with louing hir (when shée woulde not agrée to accomplishe his in∣ordinate desires) determined by force, if not by loue, to inioy hir, so as béeyng thus drowned in extreme passions, hée de∣floured hir within his royall Palace. The whiche when Counte Iulian vnderstoode, he was highly offended therewith, and féeling himselfe muche iniured thereby: determined re∣uenge vpon the kings owne person, to the end he might make a perpetuall remembrance of the wrong done by the Prince to him and his defloured daughter.

This Counte Iulian kepte secretely in his stomacke, the mortall hatred hée bare vnto king Roderic: and when hée sawe conuenient tyme, hée made semblance to passe into A∣frica with an armie which the king had committed vnto him, where with to repulse the Moores, which then inuaded the bor∣ders of Spaine. And hauing conferred of that which he woulde do, with Muzza Auuenokair Liuetenaunt generall of that pro∣uince, to the greate Miramamolyn Vlit, hée secretely pra∣ctyzed with him in this sorte, that is, if hée woulde yéelde him sufficient supply of souldiers, hee woulde put all Spaine vnder his obedience. The whiche when Muzza vnderstoode, hee gaue intelligence thereof to King Miramamolyn, who did not onely in curteous wise accepte the offer of the Counte, but also sent him a sufficient army to bryng his deuised pra∣ctize to effect.

The Ilandes of this country beyng néere the straites of Gi∣beraltare, were wel furnished with mē of great courage. He thē folowing fortune, being stirred forwarde by his wife, and the iniury which he had receyued, reiecting all loue to his cuntry, & renouncing obedience to his Prince: Sodenly as he had im∣barked his army of Moores in foure shippes, & strongly fortifi∣ed himselfe, he reuealed to his friends and kinred the iniurie which the king had done him by deflouring his daughter, and requested their friendly succour in his enterprise so waightie. Whervnto they assenting, sent him aide both of men and mo∣nie: so as he tooke all the coastes of Spaine, and much of the cun∣try for the Moores: whiche was the firste entrie of the Moores into Spaine, and was in the yeare of grace, 712.

When the miserable king Roderic had vnderstāding here∣of, & that if with speede he ordered not his affaires, he shoulde be in daunger to loose his realme and state: with all the has•••• possible he assembled an armie to encounter the Moores, and made a nephew of his Captaine generall. But the Moores gi∣uing them the ouerthrow, mangled him & his men in péeces. About which time, another armie of Moores, which the forna∣med Muzza had placed in garison in places before subdued, en∣tred and tooke another countrye or prouince. Whiche King Roderic vnderstanding, and perceyuing the Moores daylye to aduaunce their force, committing to fire and swoorde all the countrie that they subdued: he gathered togither another ar∣my, in whiche himselfe in person togither with all the Nobi∣litie of Spaine,* 1.498 woulde go to searche out the Moores, which then remayned at Seres, and did so in déede: where hée made greate slaughter both of the straunge Moores, & of his owne Christi∣ans. But in fine, the Christian army was vtterly destroyed, & the king loste: in suche wise, that afterwards he could neuer be founde quicke or deade. From this tyme Spaine fell into the subiection of the Moores. This battell was ended on a sunday the fourth of September, in the yeare of our Sauiour 714. so as the Moores beeyng then victors, might easily make themselues Lordes of all Spaine.

A letter vnto the Admirall Sir Frederirk, wherein the Auctor doth touche the maner that in olde time was vsed on their sepulchers, and the Epi∣taphes that were placed vpon the same.

GLorious Admiral & curious Lord, neither doth it profite mée to bée angrie, eyther to hold my peace, to exclame or complayne, neither yet to cease to make answere: but y^t alwayes I must continue in combate with your letters, as also with your messengers, for absoluing your doubts. It is but .15. dayes since I answered your letter, and not a month since I absolued a certaine doubt: I am determined with my selfe not to answere you to any letter, neither to declare you any doubt vntill the counsell of Saratan haue considered therof, and they of Villaunblalo do determine and iudge therein.

To performe wherin you request mée, & to execute the case which you cōmaūd me: I may not deny vnto your Lordship, that I haue not séene much, heard, passed, & also reade muche: but ioyntly herewith, your honor hath to consider, that I am now become old, wearied & also tired, & go ladē with greate a∣faires, which be of necessity, but your doubts procéede of will.

I haue sayde & also written vnto your honor many times, as you are but of little bodie, & haue that minde so generous & noble, it should be much to your ease,* 1.499 that you & Alonso Espinel made exchange, which is to wit, that he should lend you some more body, wherin that hart of yours might be conteined: and you bestow on him some more heart, for that grosse and so vn∣weldy a bodie. Cōsidering the great dulnes of Alonso Espinel, and the excéeding spirite & liuelinesse of your honor: I do not thinke to be deceiued, to vouche that your Lordship is a soule without a body, & that he is a body without a soule.* 1.500 One thing doth yet comfort me, which is, that as your Lordshippe nowe groweth old, and I also, both olde & sickly: we shall not much write eche to other, and much lesse vse mutuall visitation: bi∣cause, as the diuine Plato sayd, that yong men at times die so∣denly, but olde men may not liue long.

Little or muche, or muche or little, may it please the king of heauen, that that which we lyue, we may liue to his ser∣uice,* 1.501 for that we haue no accompte to make, what we lyue: but howe we lyue.

Leauing aparte both your iestes, and my complaintes: I my Lorde from hence foorth am determined to answere your letters with all breuitie, as also to declare vnto you all your doubts: for as Horace the Poet sayth, it appertaineth to wise men,* 1.502 to shewe a willing minde in that, wherein necessitie constreyneth.

Cōming to the purpose, your honor cōmādeth me, to write vnto you, y^e maner which they vsed in old time to make their sepulchers, & the fashion which they obserued in placing their Epitaphes: for as it séemeth, you meane to take order for your sepulture, & to deuise for the inuention of your Epitaph. From hencefoorth I say and diuine, that all those which shall sée my answere vnto your demaunde, will maruell, & also as it may chance to laugh, for that I shalbe forced in this place to relate histories very straunge, and customes neuer heard off.

Plinie in the beginning of his seuēth booke, reciting the great miseries wherwith man is borne, & the immesurable trauels wherin he liueth, sayeth thus: Amongs all the beasts that na∣ture hath brought foorth, only man crepeth, onely man is am∣bitious,* 1.503 man onely is proude, couetous, and superstitious, only desireth long life, & maketh a sepulture wherin to be bu∣ried: moste truely Plinie spake greate troth, bicause all other beasts, neither riches doth make proude, neither pouerty doth make sad, neither care to lay vp in store, neither trauell to ga∣ther togither, neither wéepe whē they be borne, neither grow sad when they shall dye: but only trauell for liuing, without carefulnesse where to be buried.* 1.504 Onely the foolishe man is he, which fetcheth marble from Gene, Alabastre from Venice, por∣phire from Candie, bone of Gelofe, and Iuory of Guinea: for no greater purpose than to build a stately chappell, and to erect a sumptuous sepulcher, where to bury his bones: & the wormes to gnaw his intrailes. I do not disalow, eyther reproue, but y^e

rather I admit, & prayse, to build good churches, to erect great Chappells, to endue with good doctrines, to paint faire stories, and to make rich ornaments: but ioyntly therewith I say, that I hold it for more safe, that a man trauell and payne himselfe to leade a good life, than make a rich Sepulture.* 1.505 Oh how ma∣ny poore men which are buried in Churchyards, whose soules reioyce and rest in heauen: and how many, which be buried in sumptuous and stately Sepulchres, whose soules be tormēted in Hell. On that night which Troy was burned, Aeneas intrea∣ting his father Anchises to depart the Citie, to the end he should not want a Sepulchre,* 1.506 the old man aunswered Facilis iactura Sepulchri, as if he had sayd, There is no lesse griefe vnto manne, than to want a Sepulchre. The King Anchises sayde well in that he spake, since we sée the liuing man complayne of the bi∣ting of a flye, and of a flea that doth offend him: but of a man that is dead, we neuer heare any complaynt, for any lacke of ringing, or want of sumptuous buriall.

If Homer and Pisistratus do not deceyue vs: The Cithes were the people that with most pomp did burie their dead, and in most reuerence did hold their Sepulchres. Zenophon the The∣bane sayth, That the Cithes fléeing before Darius, he sent word to knowe how farre they woulde runne: they aunswered, we Cithes make no great accompt to lose our houses, our fieldes,* 1.507 neither oure children, neyther yet our selues, in respect of of∣fence to the Sepulchres of our forfathers: vnto the which whē thou shalte approche, oh King Darius, there shalte thou sée and know, in how much more we estéeme the bones of the dead,* 1.508 than the life of the liuing.

The Salaminos buried their dead, their backs turned against the Agarens, whiche were their mortall enimies: In such wise, that their enemitie endured not onely in time of life, but also when they were dead.

The Massagedas at the time of death of any man or womā, they drew foorth all the bloud in their vaynes: and that day all the kindred being assembled, did drinke the bloud, and after∣wards did burie the body.

The Hircans did washe the bodies of the dead with wine, and did anoynt the same with a precious oyle: and after the parents had bewayled and buried the dead, they kept that oyle to eate, and that wine to drinke.

The Caspians in finishing the last breath were cast into the fire: and the asshes of the bones being gathered into a vessell, did afterwards drinke them in wine, in suche wise, that the entrayles of the liuing, was the Sepulchre of the dead.

* 1.509The Cithes held for custome, to burie no dead man, without burying a liue man with the same: and if by chance ther were not that willingly would be buried with the dead, for money a slaue was bought,* 1.510 with violence to be buried with the same.

The Bractians whiche were a people very barbarous, with smoke did cure the bodies of the dead, as we now vse to smoke oure Bacon: after at times (in stead of Martelmas béefe) by péecemeale to boyle the same in the pot.

* 1.511The Thibirins did by industrie breede certayne most cruell Dogges, the whiche at the last gasp of the dead, were cast vn∣to y^e Dogs to be eaten & torne to péeces: in suche manner, that the bowels of the Dogs, was the place where the Thibirins did burie their dead.

* 1.512And for y^t it shall not séeme that we speake of fauoure or at large, your honor hath to read S. Ierome against Iouinian, & the Poliantea, in y^e title of sepulture, where you shal find al that I haue said, and also much more which we haue omitted here to be written.

Of the sepulture of Belus, of Minus, of Semiramis, of Promo∣theus, of Ogiges, and of the other kings of Aegipt, Diodorus Siculus resiteth so many and so fabulous things, the whych I thinke better to omitte than to wright, to auoid his dishonor and mine owne trauell.

The Cithes did burie their dead in y^e fields, incoffined with a certayn wood of Cithia incorruptible. The Hebrues did burie their dead in their inheritances or vineyards: vppon the same they erected a faire couer curiously wrought, & of stone of great choyce. Commonly in olde time they did burie within their houses, or in the mids of their possessions, and so at this presēt

appeareth in Italy, that wheresoeuer ye shall find any Tombe of earth & stone, it signifieth that there hath bene erected some honorable sepulture. Foure Sepultures haue bin in Rome,* 1.513 most rich and stately: that is to vnderstand, of the great Au∣gustus, whiche at this presente is called the néedle of Adrian, whiche now is the Castell Saint Angell: of the good Marcus Aurelius, whiche is erected in the fielde of Mars: and of the valiant Seuerus, which was placed in the Vatican.

Many Princes, both Gréekes, Latins, Romayns, Persiās, Medes, Argiues, Hebrues, and Germaines, did make & build many & very stately temples: but we reade of none that com∣maunded or gaue order for themselues to be buried therein: but in the fieldes, and their Temples they did dedicate vnto their Gods. More than thrée hūdreth yeares after the founda∣tion of the Christiā fayth, none at any time were buried with∣in the Church: whereof it procéedeth, that it is not found in a∣ny of the ancient Legends of the martirs, but that such a mar∣tyr was buried in Cimiterie of Pretexato, either of Calisto, or els in the house or inheritance of some faithfull Christian.

Long time after the great Constantine, this custome was brought into the catholike Church, to be buried in the same: & it is to be thought, that it rather procéeded of the deuotion of the faithfull, than for any interest to the Cleargy.

Also your honor sayth in your letter, that you hold me for a man both carefull and curious, for whiche cause you suppose, (for that I haue passed diuers times with Caesar into Italy, and haue many ways traueled through Spayne:) I shuld haue col∣lected and recouered some Epitaphs of Sepultures, worthy to be séene, and notable to be red. I cannot denie, but that after the manner of a Drunkarde, that venteth for the best wine:* 1.514 so doth mine eyes stare and wander to find out some old Se∣pulture, that may contayne some thing to reade, or sentēce or Epitaph worthy the writing: and as I haue trauelled many & diuers lands & prouinces, I haue sene many & very anciēt se∣pultures, in which I haue found some writings graue, some sharpe, others deuout, some malitious, some gracious, & some foolish,

in suche wise, that some are to be noted, some to be skoft, and others to be laughed at. If I had thought that any would haue bene so curious, as to haue craued or demaunded them, as I haue bin carefull and curious to search and find them: I would haue held them in more estimatiō, and also haue commended them to more safe kéeping: for of them I haue lent, giuen, lost, and some haue bin stolen, and othersome I haue reserued.

But the case shall be thus, I will send vnto your Lordship all manner of Epitaphs, whiche is to vnderstand, suche as bée graue, malicious, foolish, and some that be gratious: for that in y^e good your honor hath to note, & in the other wherat to laugh.

In an Hospitall of the incurable, that is in Naples, Caesar vp∣pon a certayne festiuall day did heare seruice, where I saw in the great Chappell, a Tombe of a yong gentleman, whereon his old mother had placed this lamentable Epitaph.

Quae mibi debebas, supremae munera vitae, Infelix soluo, nunc tibinate prior, Fortuna inconstans, lex & varabilis aeui, Debueras cineri iam superesse meo.

In the same kingdome and Citie of Naples, vppon another festiuall day, Caesar wēt vnto a stately Monasterie of Nunnes of S. Clare, wher I found a Tombe of a certaine gentlewomā betrothed, which hapned to die the same wéeke she shuld haue bin married: vpon whome hir parents bestowed this lamen∣table Epitaph.

Nate beu miserum: misero mibi nata parenti, Vnicus vt fieres, vnica nata dolor, Nam tibi dum virum, taedas, thalamum{que} parabam, Funera & inferias, anxius ecce paro.

In the Citie of Capua, I found a Sepulture very old, and in a manner defaced, in which these letters were ingrauen, al∣though very short, yet comprehending much.

Fui non sum, Estis non eritis.

In the Citie of Gaieta, one of the strongest vpon the Sea coast in all Italy, being there with Caesar, I met with a Sepul∣ture not of the oldest, vpon which were written these words.

Siluius Paladius, Vt moriens viueret, Vixit vt moriturus.

In Rome walking the stations of Saint Paule, passing at greate leasure beholding the Churche: I encountred with an old Sepulchre vppon the ground: on the stone whereof these words were ingrauen.

Hospes quid sim vides, Quid fuerim nosti, Futurus ipse, quid sis cogitae.

In the Monasterie of Minerua in Rome, whiche be of the or∣der of Preachers, I sawe in a certaine Tombe written these words.

O mors, O mors, O mors, Aerumnarum portus, Et meta salutis.

Caesar being in the warres of Africa, the Viceroy of Cicilia died, which was called the Earle of Monteleon, Lord of Calabria. And for that by iustice he did cutte the throte of the Earle of Camarato, and with him many others, the Cicilians did deadly hate him for the same. The cause was thus, being buried in Saint Frauncis of Mezina, by night they added this title vpon his Sepulchre, as I was aduertised by the warden of the house.

Qui propter nos homines, Et propter nostram salutem, Descendit ad inferos.

In the yeare a thousande fiue hundred twenty and thrée, comming out of Fraunce by Nauarne, in a little Churche in Viena not farre from y^e Growine, I saw an Epitaph vpō the Tomb of the Duke Valentine: which without writing, I commended vnto my memorie: and as I thinke thus it sayd.

Here lieth clad in a little clay, That mortall men did feare, VVhich in peace & war the ful whole sway, In all this world did beare.

O thou that goest with care to seeke, VVorthy things of prayse most meete, If worthy things thou wouldest prayse, Here thou hast to direct thy wayes, And therein farther to spend no dayes.

In the warres of Lumbardy there dyed an auncient soldi∣er, which was valiant and meanely rich, who was buried by his friends in a little Village betwixt Plazentia and Voguera, on whose Sepulture were written these words.

Here Campuzano doth lie, VVith whose soule the Diuill did flie, But his goodes had Sir Antonie.

In Alexandria de la Palla, I found another soldier buried in the Churche within the Castell; vpon whose Sepulture, that is to say, vpon y^e wall, I saw writtē with a Cole these words.

Here lieth Horozco the Sergeant, VVhich liued playing, And died drinking.

In the Citie of Aste, when Caesar went to make warre in Fraunce, we stayed certayne dayes: A Souldier was buried in

the monasterie of Saint Frauncis, & as it séemed being very poore, made his will very rich, vppon whose Sepulture ano∣ther Soldier placed these wordes.

Here lyeth Billandrando, VVhich all that he had did not let to play, And that which he had not he gaue away.

In the Citie of Nisa, we buried an honorable soldier that had bin Captayne: but in the morning, and at night, with a Cole I saw written vpon his Tomb these words.

Here lieth the Soldier Billoria, VVhose body to the Church by his friēds did send, But his hart to his loue he did incommende.

In a place of Spayne which shall be namelesse, I founde the Sepulture of a certayne Gentlewoman, vpon whose Tombe these words were written.

Here lieth the Lady Marina in earthly presse, VVhich died thirty days before she was countesse.

In the .18. yeare, I being warden of the Citie of Soria, going to preach to the Camp of Gomara, in a little Village I encoun∣tred with an old Sepulture, vppon the stone whereof were written these words.

Here lieth bald Iohn Hussillo, VVhich taught boyes to swimme, And wenches to daunce very trim.

This yeare past, in visiting my Byshoprick of Mondonedo, I found in the Archdeaconship of Trasancos, in a little Churche by the Sea side, an auncient Tomb, which they sayd was of a gentlemā naturall of y^e place, which had these words writtē.

Here lieth Vasko Bell, A good Gentleman and a fell, The which neuer drew his sword indeede, That made any man euer to bleede.

Going for Custos of my prouince of conception, in a gene∣rall Chapter, ioyntly with certayne religious Portingalls of my order bound to the same place: amongst the which the warden of Sanctaren a man both wise and learned, vnderstan∣ding me to haue delight in old things, sayde that in his Mona∣sterie, vppon a Tombe of a Portingall Gentleman were written these words.

Here lieth Basko Figueira, Much against his will.

* 1.515So high a sentence, so delicate words, and so certain a troth as this, as God saue me might not procéed, either be inuēted, but of a man of an high & delicate iudgement: they wer spokē in Portingall, in a Monasterie of Portingall, in the behalfe of a Portingall, and a Portingall saide them: whereof I ga∣ther vnto my selfe, that the nobles of Portingall be wise in their attempts, and of sharp iudgement, in what they speake. To my iudgemēt, my appetite, & to my tast and liking, to this daye I haue not heard or red a thing so gratious, as y^e letter of that Sepulture: bycause, ther may not be said a greater troth, than to say that Basko Figueira, or any other persone, is in hys Tomb much against his will. What Sepulture is in thys world so rich, wherein any man desireth to dwel, or wisheth to be buried, what man is so insensible, that woulde not rather liue in a narrow houell, than in a large and ample sepulture. Not only Basko Figueira lieth in his sepulture against his wil, but also the Machabees in their Piramides, Semiramis in hir Polimite, the great Cirus in hys Obiesko, the good Augustus in hys Columna, the famous Adrian in his Mole magno, the prowde Alaricus in hys Rubico: All whyche if we coulde de∣maunde of them, and they aunswere vs, woulde sweare

and affirme, that they dyed without their owne consent, and were buryed agaynste their willes. My Lorde Admi∣rall from hencefoorth I diuine, that if Basko Figueira lyeth deade in his sepulture agaynst his will: with an euill will I dare auouche you will bée buryed in yours, although moste certayne the chappell is riche, and your Tombe very stately.

Your honor hath to vnderstande, that I thought good to en∣large this letter, to the end you should haue, wherat to maruel, and also wherwith to laugh with a protestation that I make, that if you wryte agayne within this halfe yeare, I wyll re∣fuse to answere: for that I haue in hande certayne woorkes of myne owne, presently to be printed, and after to be publi∣shed. No more, but that our Lorde be in your kéeping.

From Valiodolid, the .xxx. of Marche, 1534.

A letter vnto Sir Alphonce Manrique, Archebishop of Ciuill, wherein is declared a certayne passage of holy Scripture, conuenient to bee read of Iudges and prelates that be cruell.

RYght Noble and pitifull Prelate, if your reuerend Lordship do conceyue that for the gallant baye mule which you haue sent mée by Orlande your Stewarde, I shoulde submit my selfe to do you great seruice, eyther to ren∣der greate thankes, ye are greatly de∣ceiued: for although she be both faire and good, I haue wonne and gayned the same by a sentence pronounced agaynste your honor, for the costes of processe, and the amendes wherein you are con∣demned, when your moste reuerend Lordship and the Duke of Naiarra, vppon a certaine contention did elect mée for your iudge: which is to wéete, where the situation of Sagunto shuld haue stande, and the renowned Neomantia should haue bene: wherein to determine and verifie your doubte, I studied very

muche, and traueled not a little. And since you are condemned in a Mule, and consented vnto the sentence, once againe I ad∣uertise your honor, that I will neyther restore hir, and muche lesse pay for hir. My Lord the Duke of Naiarra your brother, at Courte doeth dayly threaten mée, that eyther by violence he will take hir from mée, or else cause hir to be stolen: wher∣fore I humbly pray your honor, to commaunde that he leaue me in peace, otherwise I promise you, to proue vnto him, by my auncient histories, that the borders and limites of Naiarra, haue bene twoo leagues within the Duchie.

But nowe setting aside all iestes, to speake in earnest, I shall performe with right good wyll, what your honor doeth commaunde, as touching the exposition of the passage in Exo∣dus, which I preached last in the presence of Caesar.

* 1.516In Exodus, the .25. chapter, it is written, that our Lord God sayde vnto Moyses: Emunctoria quoque facies, & vbi ea quae emuncta sunt, extingantur, fiant de auro purissimo. As if he would haue said, About the lampes of the Temple, thou shalt haue snuffers of most fine golde, to snuffe withall: and also thou shalt make a basen of gold, wherein to laye the same.

* 1.517But now to vnderstande this text very well, it is conueni∣ent and necessary to take holde of the Scripture farder of, and more déeper: bicause in the profound and delicate passages of the holy scripture, it doth muche importe to declare the texte from the bottome and very roote.

Wherein it is to be noted, that immediatly after our Lord God had deliuered the children of Israell out of the country of Aegipt, he gaue them a lawe to obserue, Priestes to informe them, magistrates to gouerne them, a land to inhabite, Manna to susteyne them, and a tabernacle to praye in. The curious reader shall find in the Psalmes and Prophets, many times these names repeated: that is to saye, Tabernacle, Sanctua∣rie, Aultar, Propiciatorie, Sancta Sanctorum. Which names al∣though they were verified in the synagoge of the Hebrewes, there was notwithstanding a difference of the one and other. Tabernacles among the Iewes was as muche, as among

the Christians at this present wée call Churche. The order wherof although it be difficile to write, neuerthelesse it is ve∣ry mysticall, and worthie the vnderstanding.

In the middes of the hoste, where the Hebrues did aduance their pauilions,* 1.518 they left a certayne space of an hundreth cu∣bites in length, and fiftie of breadth: where on both sides they erected twoo stately pillers, which did serue for distinctions or separations of the roume for the Priests from the people. All which place as well in length as breadth, the Israelites did name Tabernacle, whiche is as muche to saye, as a place de∣dicate onely to God. In the middes of this tabernacle, was placed a solemne and a magnificent altar, where vpon the sa∣crifice was done: there was also the greate bason of water, where the Priestes did washe: and for that vnto that place, and no further, the Israelites might not enter, it was named Sanctuarium, which is to say, a place sanctifyed.

Within the Sanctuarie there was another separation, of the space of thirtie cubites in length, and ten of breadth, made of Sittim woodde, and alofte hauing the fashion or forme of heauen, it was couered with a triple couerture, whereof the one was made of red shepes woolle, the other of goates heare, and the other of Taxus skinnes, whiche was for defence of the rayne and Sunne. Vnder this sayde heauen, and in the mids of this sayde place, there was the holy table, vpon which was sette the holie breade, called the loues of proposition, and the holie incense, and other swéete odors. This place héere na∣med, was called the holie Tabernacle, bycause the Priestes onely myght enter: vnto the whiche place no other person would aduenture to approche.

In the middes of this tabernacle ther was a great curtaine strained betwixt the pillers, within the which was the taber∣nacle of witnesse: wherein also was placed the tables of the law, the Manna of heauen, & Aarons rod. This place was in∣tituled the holy of holiest: wherin the high Priest might enter once a yeare. Within the sayd Arke there was a table of fine gold, somwhat more long thā broad, wheron were placed two

Cherubins of golde at euery corner, their wings alofte stret∣ched abroade, beholding eche other. In the middes betwixt the cherubins, there was a darke clowde, within the whiche was the Angell that gaue answeres, as God commanded: And al∣so answered what the good olde Moyses determined. In this place where these cherubins are, was the moste secrete and sacred of all the tabernacle. This place was called the Propi∣tiatorie: bycause in that place, the Lorde God did manifest himselfe more propice and neare, as well to pardon, as to answere them. Besides the propitiatory, and neare the aultar of the tabernacle, night and daye was fire, wherein also they did burne the holocaustes, sacrifices, and oblations.

Within the tabernacle and propiciatory, ten paces or there aboutes off the mercie seate, or Sancta Sanctorum, was placed a magnificent candelsticke of fine golde: whereon were fyxed sixe lampes full of oyle Olyue, which did burne day & nyght, to giue light to the tabernacle. Héere it is to be noted, that neither in the auncient Tabernacle of Moyses, either in that famouse Temple of Salomon, it was not commaunded, either permitted to burne tallowe candels, eyther tapers of waxe, but lampes of oyle: for the mysterie of the waxe, the onely woorkmanshippe of the hony Bée, was left to lighten the Ca∣tholicke Churche. And bycause the Tabernacle, the Sanctua∣rie, the Aulter, the mercy Seate, and Sancta Sonctorum, were holie places, and edifyed onely vnto God: The law comman∣ded they shooulde be decked, nete, cleare, and gladsome: and not fowle, or fylthie. Wherefore the Priestes had alwayes neare vnto the candelsticke, snuffers of golde to snuffe the lampes, and a basen of golde, incontinently to place and put out that whiche was snuffed. Beholde the litterall sense, and that whiche was permitted in the Synagogue, nowe ryght reuerende, it is greate reason that wée declare what wée vnderstande as touching these snuffers, and the snuffing of the lampes.

The signification of this discourse touching the mysterie of the snuffers of Golde.

SVrely a thing woorthie the noting, & also to be maruelled at, that fire or flame, being a thing that doth purifie, mun∣difie, and giue light: notwithstanding it throweth from it selfe and produceth fume and smoke, bothe tedious and stinking: and therefore I would gladly demaund of him that shal heare or reade the same, what hée woulde answere, whereof it is,* 1.519 That the aultar beyng holy, the Tabernacle holy, the Propi∣pitiatorie holy, the Arcke holie, the candelsticke holy, and all that there is, holy and blessed: notwithstanding there remai∣neth alwayes in the Temple, to clippe, to nete, to purge, to snuffe, and whervpon to set the foote. We haue hereby to vn∣derstande and to inferre: That there hath not bene, neyther is there any nation, congregation, common wealth, estate,* 1.520 or person so holy, so perfect, or so reformed, that there is not in the same to be amended, or else purged, wiped, & also snuffed. For to say the troth, we sée no person lyue so well, that might not, and ought not to liue better than he doth.

And howe commeth it to passe,* 1.521 that any dare canonize for Saint the most holy man in this worlde: séeing the scripture sayeth, The childe new borne to be in sinne. God finding cau∣ses to chasten the Angels, doth he not finde wherfore to purge and snuffe men?

Hée that heareth the royall Prophete Dauid speake after this manner: Ecce enim in iniquitatibus conceptus sum, & in peccatis concepit me mater mea: Durste he peraduenture say, that in him was no sinne?

And God sayde vnto Noe, Quòd omnis caro corruperat viam suā: what may hée be, that will saye, he had no sinne, considering that God condemneth the vniuersall worlde of sinne?

Since the Psalmist sayeth with most cleare voyce, Omnis homo mendax: how cōmes it to passe, that any dare excuse him∣selfe of sinne? The Scripture saying thus, Adam sinned in ea∣ting of the defended frute: Cain sinned in killing his brother:

King Dauid sinned by his adultery: Ionathas sinned in eating the hony: Absalon in conspiring against his father Dauid: and also Salomon sinned by idolatrye. Then since these glorious personages be fallen downe flatte, is there any person, that may thinke himselfe safe from stumbling?

And in the name of God, I craue to be answered, for what cause did the diuine Paule cry, saying: Qui se existimat stare, vi∣deat ne cadat, but to the ende that euery man shoulde consider with himselfe, that hee is fallen into sinne, or that shortly hée may fall into sinne?

* 1.522He that considereth the moste infortunate fall of Iudas the disciple of Iesus Christ, accompanying Iesus Christe, and hearing Iesus Christ: dareth he aduenture to trust and haue confidence in himselfe? Since wée are descended of sinners, haue taken our byrth of sinners, be conuersant with sinners, and committe so enorme and deadly sinnes: say we not most true, that they be most vniust, which affirme & estéeme them∣selues for iust and rightuous?

I admitte that euery man say what he will, and performe of himselfe what hée thinketh good: For if I will confesse the troth, that in mée there is many things to be amended, many things to be clipt or shorne, many things to be purged, and to too muche to be snuffed.

* 1.523And surely, it is no small parte of Iustification, to con∣fesse our faultes: notwithstanding the confession suffiseth not, if wée do not inforce our selues to correction. For if a candell haue too long a snuffe, it suffiseth not a little to dresse and e∣rect, but to snuffe the same. And for that, if in this whole worlde there were but one vice wherein wée myght fall, all men woulde beware thereof: But séeyng there be so many quagmires, wherein to bée myred, it is a thing too common, that if we sincke not to the bottome, at the leaste we remayne all bemyred.

Yf wée wyll haue the candle cleare, and of himselfe gyue lyght, it is very necessary that he be oft snuffed. By this that I haue sayde, I woulde say, that the man that hath shame in

his face, and woulde preserue his conscience, presently when he hath committed the faulte, he muste determine to amende. For if he once harden his conscience, late or neuer doth hée a∣mende his lyfe.

To this purpose the wise Salomon sayde, Impiusciòn in pro∣fundum malorum venerit, contemnit: as if he shoulde say,* 1.524 He that the Lorde doth refuse to succour with his mercifull hande, defer∣ring from day to day to amend, he goeth deeper and deeper to the bottome, beeing clad in suche manner with sinne, as he in no wise wyll yeelde to correction.

Wherefore God in commaunding that at the foote of the lampes that did light in the Temple, there shoulde be snuf∣fers to snuffe them, it is no other thing, as mée thinketh, but that euery man ought to séeke with whome to bée indo∣ctrined, in that whiche hee ought to followe, and remoued from his errour wherein hée offended. For in his owne cause, it is not permittible for any man to bée Iudge of himselfe.

But how contrary is the fashion at these dayes in this mi∣serable worlde. The glorious Apostle S. Paule sayde, In nouis∣sanis diebus coaceruabunt sibi magistros prurientes auribus, which is,* 1.525 They shall more delyght to haue with them, flatterers to deceyue them, than directers by good counsell to aduise them.

I returne to say and reiterate, that it is no other thing to commaunde to haue snuffers nyghe vnto the candlesticke, than to gyue vs to vnderstande, that wée ought often to accu∣stome our selues to purge our conscience. For if it be necessa∣rie in one houre, thrée or foure tymes to snuffe the candle, it shall not be ouermuche, that euery wéeke at the leaste, once or twice to purge and snuffe the soule. The candle hauing a greate snuffe, may not well gyue lyght, and the soule laden with sinnes, may finde no merite. And therefore it is necessa∣rie to gyue and maynteyne muche; as to a lampe, or to snuffe him well as a candle: bycause, sinnes that bee rooted and growen olde, be difficile to confesse, and harde to amende.

Therein it is also to bée vnderstoode, God commaunded that the snuffers, wherewith they shoulde snuffe the lampes, and also the bason wherin they shoulde lay the snuffers, to be not of grosse, but pure and moste fine golde, to gyue vs to vn∣derstande,* 1.526 that the King, the Prelate, the Iudge, the gouer∣nour and giuer of chasticement, ought not to containe in thē∣selues any vice, wherfore to be shorue, clipt, or snuffe: for that it is not permittable by the lawes humane or diuine, that one théefe should iudge another théefe to be hanged.

* 1.527And then are the snuffers of leade, or of yron, when the Iudge or gouernor is of a life lesse honest, in his speache inor∣dinate, and wherein hée iudgeth of partiall affection. For o∣therwise it shall be more expedient, to neate and purge the snuffers, than to snuffe the Candelles,

And then be the snuffers of fine golde, when the Iudge or Prelate is of a syncere life: modest in his purposes, zelous of his Common wealth,* 1.528 & a right Iusticer, as also by the voyce of common consent to haue nothing whereof to be amended, and lesse to be desired.

Faciebat Dauid iudicium & iustitiam omni populo. This is writ∣ten of Dauid in the seconde booke of Kings, which is as muche to say,* 1.529 That the good king Dauid did sitte openly giuing audience to euery man, and doing iustice to all men. Certaynly there bée many, that as Iudges do heare all in publike: and smal is the number which giueth right to all men: And some that do iu∣stice vnto diuers, but not many that equally minister iustice to all men. Which ought in no wise to be done, much lesse to be consented vnto. For the lawe ought not to go as the king willeth: but rather the King as the lawe willeth. O wordes moste certainely to bée noted, and to memorye bée in∣commended:* 1.530 by the which is sayde of the good King Dauid, not by the hands of another, but of himselfe: not in his house, but openly: not once, but euery daye: not to one person, but to al the people: not that he would prolong them, but it is sayde, from the present hour•• in whiche hée hearde them, he did dis∣patche them.

The Iudges that God did constitute and send into diuers places, all haue bene holy and iust, which is to say, Noe which was sent against the idolaters, Loth that was sent against the Sodomites, Moyses against the Aegiptians, Helie against the false prophetes, and Daniel against the false Iudges. Notwithstan∣ding they found much wherefore to correct, yet in them there was not founde any thing whereof to be snuft. And therefore of the Prelate, which is wise, vertuous, and not cruell, all mē take pleasure to be aduised of their negligences, and corre∣cted of their faultes. But if such a one be absolute, or dissolute, with greate griefe they indure to be chastised.

Neither serueth it to great purpose, that the snuffers wher∣with we snuffe the candell, be of golde or siluer, if in the place of snuffing, we dowte the candel: whereby I would say,* 1.531 that the true Iudge or Prelate ought to conceyue better of him∣selfe, to be pitifull, than rigorous, stretching his intention ra∣ther to amend the fault, than discredite the sinner. With snuf∣fers of gold doth he snuffe the candell, when the Iudge or pre∣late do chastice the mischiefe, and on the other parte hath pitie on the offender. For otherwise God will accept the pacience of him that is corrected, and condemne the will and frowarde disposition of him that correcteth.

Neither is it also without mysterie, that God commanded in his law, that vnder the holy candelsticke the snuffers shold be placed, & the bason of golde, wherin they should bestow the snuffings of the lampes. For in the sacred Scripture, there is no word that is not mistical. Surely I suppose it is no error to say, that the Candlesticke is the Church, the cādell the sinner, the snuffers the Prelate, and that whiche is snuffed, is sinne:* 1.532 which God commaundeth to be snuffed, and incontinently in water or sand to be couered, to the end it do not offend or gyue stēch vnto him that snuffeth the same. And therfore the Iudge or gouernor of y^e cōmon wealth, ought curiously to cōsider, not onely the acte of correction of faults, but also whiche cōcerneth the preseruing of credite. And it is no other thing, when God willeth, y^e presently after the snuffing of the lampe, the snuffe shold be buried, but y^t the sinner be chastised, & not dishonored.

Admitting that our Lorde Iesus Christ had sinne in great horror, notwithstanding hée did not hate the sinner. For he himselfe sayde, Nō veni vocare iusto, sed peccatores. And of him thus was sayde, Hic peccatores recipit, & manducat eum illis. The Lorde & redemptor with golden snuffers did snuffe the lāpes, and in a golden bason did lay the snuffers, when he called sin∣ners; did preache to sinners, & was serued of sinners, hauing no disdayne to haue them in his companie, and to sitte with them at one table.

Yf we ought to vse our skill in snuffing the candels, muche more delicately we ought to correct sinne, whiche to say, that the correction be in secrete, discrete, and done with Christian charitie, and not as a Prelate or Iudge cruell and inhumane. Iesus Christ vnderstoode very well, that Iudas should sell him and deliuer him into the hands of the Iewes, and yet notwith∣standing he washte his féete,* 1.533 did communicate as with his o∣ther disciples, did sitte at table with him, and gaue him leaue to talke and conferre: to gyue vs to vnderstande, that with such modestie we should correct the faults of our neygh∣bour, that by no meanes we should hinder his credite.

In this wretched world, that which we snuffe from the can∣dle, we cast vpon the grounde, and treade vpon with the foote, I would say, that from the houre that a poore sinner commit∣teth any notable crime, from thence forth he is abhorred of al men, and likewise defamed, as though wee were not accusto∣mably vsed to prosecute sinne, behold sinne, and committe of∣fences. I assure your Lordship, that if all men which know to sinne, that be giuen to sinne, & glorifie themselues to haue sin∣ned, shoulde fayle or dye: we should then haue small cause to build houses, neither yet to sowe wheate. But it is not so, nor hath bin so in the house of God. For that whiche was snuffed, was layd in the bason of golde,* 1.534 to giue vs also to vnderstande, that he which sinneth by frailtie, either doth erre by negligēce, we ought not presently to defame, and much lesse to dishonor.

For if God which is most iniured, giue pardon, there is no reason that another sinner as greate, shoulde condemne him.

Beholde most noble and my good Lorde, what it is that I vn∣derstande as concerning this passage, and that which I prea∣ched vnto the Emperor in the pallace at Madrid, the .12. of Au∣gust, Anno. 1527.

A discourse made vnto Queene Elenor, in a sermon of the transfiguration, wherein is touched by an high style, the greate loue that Christe did beare vs.

RIght high and magnificent Princes, the moste auncient among the Auncientes, and the most famous amongst the famous Adages or Pro∣uerbes, is the same whiche was gyuen by the Oracle of Apollo vnto the Orators of Rome: whiche is to witte, Nosce teipsum: and, Ne quid himis: As if he woulde haue sayde, All the weale of the com∣mon wealthe is contayned in that, that euery man do knowe himselfe, and that none do manifest himselfe, his déedes & at∣tēpts extreme. Inasmuchas that presumption, & to great selfe lyking, importeth daunger, and euery excesse likewise, and leadeth vnto trauell. Wordes more briefe, and sentences more compendious certaynely myght not bée spoken, eyther found in wryting: For that (to say the troth) if euery man did consider with himselfe the small woorthinesse that he contay∣neth, he woulde not so lyghtly iudge of others, and if no man woulde so extremely determine to perfourme his wyll, so manie errours, violences, and faultes woulde not be com∣mitted.

And for that cause, the man that is in his conuersation presumptuous, and in his affayres headstrong, vnbrydeler,* 1.535 and opiniatiue, no man ought to beare him enuie, or impaire his rent, since he roweth agaynst the streame, and fysheth a∣gaynst the winde.

To eate too much, is extreme and excesse: too much colde & to greate heate, is the same: greate aboundance & miserable

pouertie is likewise extreme, whereof wée may inferre, that onely vertue is that, which is equall in ballance, and that on∣ly is vice,* 1.536 that endureth no equalitie. One man to cal another man extreme or excessiue, is to touche him with to greate an iniurie, considering that euery man whiche is headdy and ex∣treme,* 1.537 he is not farre from the state of a foole. Insomuch that follie is no other thing, but when a man without respect doeth all things to his owne liking.

Then I demaunde if this be true, as it is, wherfore sayeth the Gospell, that vpon the Mount of Thabor, Moyses and Helie did talke with Iesus Christ, of the greate excesse whiche hée should vse and performe in Ierusalem.

Truly these be woords very straunge, the perfectiō of God being such, y^t his powerserueth not to cōmit any thing super∣fluous, neither yet defectiue in any thing he taketh in hande. And what is he that dareth to saye, that there is any thing, which he cānot do? or performeth y^t which is not reasonable?

Then presently lette vs examine the life of the good Iesus Christ, and we will sée if we can finde, wherin he hath bin ex∣treme, or wherein he hath vsed excesse, since wée all confesse, that his life hath not bin but as a clocke to gouerne vs, and as a butte whereat to shoote.

Neyther are we able to saye, that he committed any excesse in eating or drinking, for presently after he was baptized, hée wēt to fast in the desert fortie dayes & fortie nights on a tāke.

And lesse did Iesus Christ vse excesse in his apparrell, since it is not found written that he had more than two coates, and yet went bare foote.

Not in sléeping, eyther in recreating that hée vsed excesse: since that many times he passed the night without rest, slepe or lodging, and tyred with trauell, was driuen to repose vpon the welles side of Samaria.

Not in woordes, eyther in his Sermons, since his enimies did saye, that neuer any man spake so little, so well, and with suche modestie,

Not in the lawe which he hath giuen vs, eyther in the pre∣ceptes

which he hath ordeyned: for he hath not commaunded in his Gospell any thing whiche is prophane: and in recom∣pence he hath promised the obseruers therof life euerlasting.

Neyther hath hée vsed excesse in hourding of treasures or other comfortes of mans lyfe: for that hée lyued Aposto∣like, and all those of his colledge, whiche partly lyued of Al∣mes, and did eate eares of corne in the fieldes for necessitie.

And to say the troth, and to speake clerely of this matter, the excesse and the greate extremitie whiche the blissed Iesus committed, was not, as it is sayd, in drinking, eating, sleping,* 1.538 or in any other thing, but only in loue: for all his other works and actions were finished, except the loue which he did beare, that was infinite and had no ende. And therfore if any would ballaunce the griefes, sorrowes, afflictions, and teares of Ie∣sus Christ, with the loue that he did beare vs, without com∣parison hée shall finde his loue farre to excéede and surmount his tormentes, for that vpon the trée of the Crosse, his passion had an ende, but his loue and affection did neuer ceasse.

And certaynly Iesus Christ in all things vsed greate mo∣deration, excepte in his loue, whiche he did beare vnto the v∣niuersall worlde, béeyng so excessiue, that it excéeded the hu∣manitie, approching very néere vnto the diuinitie. And ther∣fore, if he had not bene God and man, as he was, it had bene impossible to haue loued with so great affection, and to haue bestowed so greate and maruelous things, for that whiche he loued.

Moste certaynly Iesus vsed excesse and greate extremitie, to suffer so many thornes to pearce his sacred heade, & so ma∣ny other passions and tormentes to afflict his moste diuine bodye: whiche passions and tormentes, did farre excede the afflictions which the Martyrs indured. Therfore we say,* 1.539 that greate was the excesse and extreme was the loue that Iesus Christ did beare vs: which he did manifest in the workes of a most true and perfect louer.

Moyses and Helie did not common with Iesus Christ, of go∣uernement of the family, neither of their synagoge, but of the

ignominious & staunderous death, which Iesus Christ should endure at Ierusalem, and how he should die for all men, and that he shoulde be tormented with excéeding afflictions, whiche hée should indure with an heart accompanied with extreme loue. Si diligitis me, mandata mea seruate: which is to say, My deare disci∣ples, it is not sufficient to say, that you loue me, if otherwise you be negligent to obserue my commaundements: for that you see, I am not satisfied to loue you well in woordes, but that I shew and per∣forme the same in dedes. Yf we would profoundly regard these wordes of Iesus Christ,* 1.540 we shoulde finde the loue of God not onely to consist in affection, but in effect.

I would say that good workes be more exorable vnto God than holy desires. For him that is féeble and sicke, it suffiseth that he loue, but he that is hole and sounde, ought to loue and woorke: for Iesus Christ our God doeth accept the wante of power, but is displeased with want of will.

* 1.541Diligite inimicos vestros, & benefacite ijs qui oderunt vos: As if he should say, Loue your enimies, and do good vnto them that per∣secute you. Iesus Christ gyuing to vnderstād, that loue ought to be put in effect.

Likewise the scripture sayth, Ignis in altari meo semper ardebit, & sacerdos nutriet illum mittens ligna: VVithin the Temple that is dedicate, sayeth the Lorde, and vpon the Aultar which is conse∣crate vnto me, I will that it be alway furnished with fire, one of the Priestes hauing charge with wood to maintaine the same that it go not out. In such wise that God is not satisfied, that for his own tyme, there shoulde be fire of loue: but also therewithall hée commaundeth, that it be entertayned with the woodde of good workes. For as fire goeth out, if it be not maintayned with wood, so likewise loue groweth cold, which is not mixed with good workes: and as the fire without wood turneth to ashes, so doth loue without workes take an ende and finishe.

* 1.542The Philosopher will say, that, habitus, is ingendred of a∣ctus: and the Diuine will say, that the good loue is conserued by the meane of the good worke.

Speaking of the extreme loue that God did beare vs, Ie∣remie

sayeth, In charitate perpetua dilexi te: which is, I loue not as others, neither is my loue like the loue of others: for I loue mine with charitie, and do intreate them with pitie.

The loue of man is such, that if they determine to loue any thing, it is moste likely they loue the same, for the perfection therof. As if he shoulde loue an Orient stone, it is for the pro∣pertie or beautie thereof: if he loue meate, it is for the tast: If he loue golde, it is, for that it is precious: If he loue Musicke, it is for that it gladdeth him: If he loue his wife, it is for hir bountie or beautie. In such wise, that man aduaunceth not to loue any thing, in which he hath not some opinion, that it shall like or please him. But far otherwise is the loue whiche God beareth vs. For we knowe not in ourselues any cause,* 1.543 why God should be in loue with vs, which is most euident, for that our eies delight to behold nothing but vaine things, our eares to heare lyes & flatteries, our hands ready to rapine, our harts bent vpon couetise: In suche wise, that in our wretched and miserable person, God findeth not any occasion why he should loue vs, but many wherefore to hate vs. Notwithstanding the blessed Iesus, determined to remedie the sinnes that hée sawe in vs, and the ingratitude that he founde in vs: it plea∣sed him to succour vs with his mercie, and to lend vs his bles∣sed grace, by the meanes whereof we might bring foorth the frutes of good woorks, wherof he himselfe might be amourous, and our conscience comforted.

Then Sainct Peter, that denied him, S. Paule, that pursued him, S. Mathew that as a Publican did exchaunge, the théefe that did steale, might not haue foūd the house of Iesus Christ if he himselfe first had not giuen his grace.

Oh loue neuer hearde of, oh louer not to be compared,* 1.544 the which against the heare of mundaine loue, both giue loue, and the occasions of loue.

In charitate perpetua dilexi te, sayde Iesus Christ by the Pro∣phete, that the loue wherewith Iesus Christ doeth loue vs, is not fayned, much lesse transitorie, but perpetuall, & stable: whiche is moste true, in as muche as by the meane of his

owne grace, he is pleased with vs, before our good works can declare vs to be his friendes.

* 1.545That with a perpetuall and perfect charitie thou louest mée, oh thou loue of my soule and redéemer of my lyfe, con∣sidering the loue which thou bearest vs is thine, and the pro∣fite therof is mine, pretēding no other thing of thy loue which thou bearest to all creatures, but by demonstration to declare thy souerayne bountie, in placing vpon vs thy most great and ardent charitie.

With perpetuall charitie, O Lorde, thou dost loue vs, con∣sidering that greate daye of thy passion, wherein neyther the tormentes of thy body, eyther the despitefull malice of the people,* 1.546 might in no maner withdraw thy souerayne bountie, or darken thy most great charitie: but rather with innarra∣ble sighes, and teares incomparable, didst praye for them that did crucifie thée, & didst pardon them that did offend thée.

And most certainly, with a perpetuall charitie did our good Lorde loue vs, since from the present houre wherein hée fini∣shed his prayer, and rendred his spirite, incontinent was manifested the frute of his passion, and the efficacie of his prayer.

Non rogo pro ijs tantum, sed pro bis qui credituri sunt in me. Iesus Christe speaking vnto his father the nyght before his passion, sayd, O my father, I pray not vnto thée onely for my Apostles and Disciples, but also I praye as well for all the faythfull whiche shall beleeue in mée, and that shall loue thée. For euen as thou & I be one selfe thing in diuinitie, so they and I be one body mysticall by charitie.

O Redéemer of my lyfe, oh repayrer from all my distres∣ses, what may I do that may please thée, wherewith may I recompence thy great goodnesse, wherwith I am indebted? if I be not sufficient to giue due thankes for the good things that hourely thou dost bestow vpon me, what abilitie may I finde to satisfie the great loue which thou bearest vnto my soule?

Surely the woordes that the Lorde Iesus Christ did speake in his prayer, bée ryght woorthie to bée noted, retayned,

and to memorie to be commended, considering we were not yet borne, neyther yet our greate Grandfathers.* 1.547 He prayed vnto his father with suche instance and great efficacy, for the health of all his Churche, as much I saye, as for those, whiche were with him at supper: in such wise, that the good Lorde, as he should die for all, woulde pray for all: whereof we maye in∣ferre, that we ought fully to beléeue, and to be out of doubt, that since oure redéemer had vs in remembrance before wée came into the world, that he will not now forget vs, when by faith we enter into his seruice.

I pray thée gentle Christian say vnto me,* 1.548 if Iesus Christe had not pitied our estate, what had become of vs? surely if the Church of God at this present do contayne, or is endued with any obedience, patience, charitie, humilitie, abstinence, or cō∣tinence, all is to be imputed to the ardēt loue that Iesus Christ did beare vs, by the prayer he made vnto his father on oure behalfe, redéeming our disgrace with his precious bloud, and by his prayer placing vs in fauour.

To be in loue with such as be present and absent, to be in loue both with quicke and dead, it passeth:* 1.549 but to loue suche as be yet to come; and be not yet borne, certainly is a thing that was neuer heard of: the which our redeemer hath performed and brought to passe, and yet hateth the wicked liuer, and lo∣ueth the good not yet borne.

In such manner is cuppled togither, both life and deathe, loue and hatred, he that loueth, and the thing loued, that al ta∣keth end at an houre, which is contrary vnto the loue whyche Iesus Christ doth beare vs: for his loue had beginning before the creation of the world, and yet shall not ende at the daye of iudgement. The conclusion of all that we haue sayd shall bée:* 1.550 that the excesse or extremitie which was spokē of in y^e mount of Thabor, was of the extreme and excessiue sorrowes, that Ie∣sus Christ should endure, and of the most great and excessiue loue that he did beare vs, and in time to come shoulde shewe vs here by grace, and after by glory. Ad quam nos perducat Iesus Christus Amen.

The taking and ouerthrow of Carthage, done by Scipio the great, with a singular example of continencie which he there ex∣pressed, written to the Byshop of Carthage.

MOst honorable Lord, and Catholike Prelate, I haue re∣ceyued in this Citie of Toledo, in his Maiesties Cham∣ber, the letter that you haue written, and the Emrode which you haue sent me, the which surely is very faire and rich, but notwithstanding, in respect of the place and from whome it commeth, I rather hold and estéeme it more deare, & inconti∣nuall remembrance. And I vnderstoode by your letter, youre estate, and how you behaue your selfe in your bishoprick, and that you are not as yet disposed to come to this Court, for that you are there in greater quietnesse, and haue leysure to serue God, whereof doubtlesse I do not a little enuie your felicitie: for this life at Court is no other thing than a languishing death,* 1.551 a certayne vnquiet life, without peace, and principally without money, and a certayne purchace of domage and of∣fence to the body, and of Hell for the soule.

If it pleased his Maiestie y^t I might retire vnto my house, I promise you by the fayth of a Christiā, I would not stay one houre at Court. For the Court is neyther good or conuenient for me, either I for y^e Court. But being confessor vnto his ma∣iestie, and Amner vnto the Emperesse, I may not escape one day from the Court. Notwithstanding amongst all these dis∣commodities,* 1.552 wé receyue this benefite, whiche is, we vnder∣stand in this Courte all that is done, or in practise, through the world, which is a matter wherein man dothe much delight, & content his spirites, hauing no regarde to other thinges, that might tourne him to more profite.

As touching you my Lorde: you possesse youre house with great quietnesse deliuered of all fantasy to come to the Court, as well for the reasons abouesayd,* 1.553 as also for that your people shal be indoctrined and maintayned in better behauiour, and your haule and buttry more throughly furnished.

Farther, you commaund me to write vnto you particular∣ly, whē the Carthaginians entred into Spayne, & at what time Scipio the African did take Carthage, the chiefe Citie of youre

Bishoprick: and that you haue layd a wager with the Lord sir Peter of Mendoza gouernour of the same Citie, vpō the same matter, & being of cōtrary opinions, haue chosen me for iudge or arbitrator of your contentiō. Certaynly these be things ve∣ry farre from my profession: for being religious as you know, it shoulde serue much better to the purpose, to sit and vnder∣stand of the time that my religion was inuented, and in what countrey S. Francis was borne, than to vnderstande when the Carthaginians entred Spayne, & at what time y^e Romaynes did sack & subuert Carthage. But since you haue chosen and e∣stablished me for your iudge, & will y^t I shal say my opiniō,* 1.554 & that which I know: I shal not fayle to yéeld & rēder my ende∣uor, without any remissiō of y^e Mule which you promised me.

But comming nowe to the purpose, you haue to vn∣derstād, during the warres betwixt y^e Gaditains,* 1.555 & the Turde∣taynes, the Gaditains sent their embassadors to the Carthagini∣ans, to draw thē to their party, & to haue succour from them: whervnto y^e Carthaginians consented, and at the instant sent Marhaball, a man very valiant, to go into Spayne to the succour of the Gaditains. This Marhaball vnder y^e colour of giuing aide vnto the Gaditains,* 1.556 brought himself in possession of a certayne part of Andolozia, and reduced the same vnder the gouernmēt of the Carthaginians, folowing his secret commission, and the order which was giuen him in his eare: This was broughte to passe in the yeare of the general Floud. M.D.CCCX.

This was the first discent of y^e Carthaginians in Spayne. In the days when the Romaynes expelled their kings. But after∣wards, the Carthaginians diuers times by diuers Captayns, did inuade & had possessiō of many countries & cities of Spayne, which they held vnto y^e time that the Romayns comming vn∣to y^e succour of the Saguntines, where y^e Carthaginians wer dis∣comfited, distressed & driuen away: both the armies being con∣ducted by Hanniball & Scipio, the first being the leader and Cap∣tayn of y^e armies of Carthage, the other for y^e Romains. This Sci∣pio was thē intituled Scipio the great, & renoumed with y^e sur∣name, African, for y^t after he subdued y^e great Carthage, & did take the same by diuers assaults. This City as is knowen to your

Lordship,* 1.557 it holdeth on the East part, a certaine hill with a ridge, compassed with the Sea, and on the other side wher this hill or ridge ioyneth vnto the Citie, there is a lake on that side of Bize.

The Carthaginians supposing theyr Citie to bée sufficiently strong vpon that side, gaue no order thereof either for watche or ward. As Scipio battred the Citie by Sea & land, he had ad∣uertisemēt by certaine fishermen of Tarresko, which at other∣times had repaired and gone to Carthage, that the water of the lake did vse to fall at an houre.* 1.558 By whiche aduertisement Sci∣pio caused the water to be sounded, and hauing found the grea∣test depth but to the girdle, & in most places but to the knées, he caused certayne chosen souldiers to enter the water, whych passing without impediment, did climbe the walles, & entred the Citie, obtayning thereby possession with small losse, hauing executed great slaughter of the people thereof, and Hanno the Captayne of the Citie being taken prisoner. And as the Ro∣maines did prosecute and performed the destruction of the Citie, forcing to passe by the edge of the sword al that euer they met, a Damsel of Spayne of a noble house, y^e wife of Madonius, brother to Indibilis, Lord of the Illergets, did yéelde hir selfe pro∣strate and groueling at the féete of Scipio, most humbly besée∣ching, that it might please him to vouchsafe to recommende the honor of the women vnto the souldiers. And as Scipio an∣swered, that he woulde gladly performe the same, this Lady replyed saying after this manner:

O Scipio, I am charged with one particular and right sor∣rowfull griefe,* 1.559 whiche pearceth my heart in this present for∣tune to solicite thy excellēcie to vse thy mild fauour with great diligence: for I haue héere my two nices (shewing two most excellent right singular yong Ladies) daughters of Indibilis, which hold and estéeme me as their onely mother, who teare mine entrayles and breake and pearce my hart, to sée them in seruitude amids the armies.

Whereof Scipio being moued by great compassion, and no lesse reuerence, made answer vnto this Lady: Madame, you

haue to vnderstand, that notwithstanding the common cour∣tesy of the Romayne people, and my naturall condition doe prouoke me to defend the honor of Ladies: yet therewithall,* 1.560 youre great vertue and dignitie constraynes me to vse more spéedy diligence therein: considering that in the mids of youre aduersities you forget not the chiefe poynt of honor, whiche al Ladies of chast renowne ought to mayntaine, kéepe & defend.* 1.561

The which being sayd, he commended these thrée Damsels to the gard and defence of a gentleman of name and much e∣stéemed for his vertue, straightly commaunding the same, to entreate and serue these Ladies, with no lesse courtesie, than if they were the wiues or daughters of gentlemen of Rome.

And nowe, since you haue bin aduertised of one vertuous acte of Scipio, I will yet recite another right famous déede,* 1.562 of great vertue, to shew vnto the world, that Scipio doth worthi∣ly deserue eternall prayse, to serue as an example and perfect spectacle of continencie to all yong Captaynes.

The cause was thys: at the very instant that Scipio hadde dispatched these thrée Ladies aforesayd, y^e Souldiers brought vnto him a certayne yong Damsell, the fairest that euer they had séene: but Scipio vnderstanding that she was betrothed to Lucius Prince of the Celtibires, and that she was discended of parents very noble, would in no wise touch hir, but rather had a duble care to defend hir honor. And hauing commanded the father and the husband of the sayd Lady to be called vnto hys presence, and also vnderstanding the sayd Prince to loue with an ardent desire, and an inflamed affectiō: said thus vnto him: O Lucius, hauing thy loue in my power, and being yong as thou art, I might well enioy the delight of hir beauty:* 1.563 but ha∣uing aduertisement that thou bearest hir great and most per∣fect affection: I haue thought good not only to defende but also to preserue hir for thée, and render the same into thy handes as chast a virgin, as she was deliuered vnto me. And I wil no other recompence at thy hands, but that thou cōtinue a faith∣full friend vnto the Romaines, for thou shalt not find a Nation in this world of so perfect friendship as are the Romayne peo∣ple,

neither of so great merit for their worthy vertues.

Wherevnto Lucius coulde say no other thing, but kissing the right hande of Scipio, besought the immortall Gods, to re∣munerate the great goodnesse and passing courtesie he had v∣sed vnto him, confessing his great want of abilitie, for the re∣compence of so great a bountie.

And after returning vnto the parents of the sayd Damsell, rendering their daughter without any raunsome: They most instantly besought him, that it might please him to accept the gold whiche they had brought for hir raunsome, in token and as a pledge of their amitie and dutifull affection.

Scipio being pressed of them, did accept the same: and pla∣cing it at his feete, in the presence of them all, called Lucius and sayd:* 1.564 behold Lucius, I giue thée this gold which thy father and mother in law haue presented me, as a gift vnto the marriage of thy wife, besides that which before was appoyn∣ted thée. Take and refuse it not for my sake, and as a token for remembrance of sound friendship in time to come.

Then Lucius and his father and mother in lawe, receiuing the Damsell and the golde, did take their leaue of Scipio, and retired into their countrie, publishing in all places wher they past, most greatest praise of Scipio and the Romaine people.

* 1.565Very shortly after Lucius came to séeke Scipio with four∣téene hundreth horse, to attend and assist the Romaynes. After which time Scipio departed from Carthage to Tarzacone, to giue order for the warres, in effect to chace and expulse the Cartha∣ginians out of Spayne.

My Lorde beholde here my opinion as touching youre de∣maund: and if your honor, or the gouernor be not of the same opinion, which is, that if Marhaball were not the first Carthagi∣nian that entred Spayne: and that the great Scipio the African, did not take, sack, and subuert new Carthage: I will say no more, but that if Titus Liuius were aliue, he would giue you suche a cōbat with the Camp of his Decades, that he would through∣ly giue you to vnderstand of your wrong information.

Of newes there is no other, but y^t his Maiestie is in health,

and twice a wéeke goeth to y^e assembly. The Emperesse also is in health, and this hote weather féedeth very little. Thys other night from Ciuile they broughte a paquet of letters vnto his maiestie:* 1.566 wherein he was aduertised of ten shippes from Peru, to be arriued in y^e hauen of Ciuill with twenty Millions of gold, whereof there were eight for his maiestie, and twelue for other particular persons. Diego of Acunia the bearer here∣of, shall farther make report of all that passeth here at Court. No more but God haue you in his kéeping and giue me grace to serue him.

From Toledo the 22. of Iuly. 1537.

A disputatiō and discourse holdē against the Iewes of Rome, wher∣in is declared notable authorities of the sacred Scripture.

ALiama Horranda, which is to say, honorable troupe of Inis, I remayne with the long disputation past, so wéery, and my head so distempred with your cries, that if it were not for the seruice of my Lorde Iesus Christe, and for the zeale of youre soules, the profession of a deuine, as also for the honor of my law which I confesse & soundly beleeue: you shoulde be assured that I would neither dispute with you any more, or enter at any time into your Sinagogue, for that as touching your cō∣uersion ye are too too much obstinate,* 1.567 and in the maner of dis∣putation extremely opiniatiue. Neyther vnto you eyther yet vnto me doth it apertayne, that the difficulties or opinions which eyther of vs defendeth, shuld be verefied with offensiue armes, much lesse with iniurious words assuring, that at the Scholes where I haue studied, and of the masters of whome I haue learned, he was not esteemed wise, that cried strongly, but could performe and speake very well.

And since we debate not vppon any matter of your goodes, much lesse is my comming for the same or any suche purpose, but only for the verifying of the sacred Scripture. I pray you for the loue of God, interrupt not my reasons, but heare me with patience vntill I haue finished my tale: for al you of this Sinagogue hold for custome, y^t if any word be spokē againste your tast or liking, forthwith ye begin to garboile, cry & brable. Therefore

heare me, and I will heare you: speake, or else I will speake: giue eare vnto me, or else I wil hearken vnto you: suffer me, and I shall endure and suffer you: since we talke, confer and dispute of matters so high and deuine, it is good reason that such difficulties, and so great mysteries should be disputed af∣ter the manner of wise men, and not crying as fooles: conside∣ring that the wisedome of the wise is knowen by his talke,* 1.568 and his prudence in the modestie which he vseth in his speech.

I haue sayd all this, for that in the disputation which wee haue had betwixt vs, eight days past, ye did not only impugne and speake against both the authorities which I alleadged of the holy Prophet Esay, and of King Dauid, but also ioyning your fistes to my eyes, ye charged me with the lie, iniuriously and threatning.

* 1.569If ye shuld say, that I am a great sinner, a dasterd, dull, and simple, I confesse the same.

But to saye that is false whiche I alledged, or erroneous whiche I defended, I vtterly appeale and denie: for my good Lord Iesus Christ of his mercy either coulde or woulde fayle me therin. But comming to the purpose, me thinketh to com∣mit no iniurie, to bring foorth and alleage the passages of the holy Bible, and therewithall, of the holy Prophet Dauid, and a king amongst you best beloued, and of Esay the Prophet, of you most esteemed. The whiche haue sayde and prophecied, of the ignorance which ye should haue, from the which I beséech God to drawe you and with his grace to enspire you: for cer∣taynely I haue compassion to consider youre greate infamie, hauing in times past aboue all nations receyued most fauour of God.

* 1.570Scrutati sunt iniquitates, defecerunt scrutantes scrutinio. The royal Prophet Dauid sayd, speaking of the doctors of your lawe, as if he would say,* 1.571 the ministers of the lawe be set, to interprete and declare the sacred scripture, from the which, they haue not drawen but falshood and malice.

But now honorable Inis, I pray you to say, of whome doth your Prophete here speake: And tell me what they be, that

dare falsifye the sacred scripture? to the ende we may vnder∣stand to shun them, or else as Heretiques to burne them. For as the diuine Plato sayde, he ought to be accused of high trea∣son, that falsely doth interprete the law.

If ye will saye, that the Gentiles, Scrutati sunt iniquitates,* 1.572 which is to say, That they haue euill interpretated the law, I an∣swere that you speake vniustly and raise a false testimonie a∣gainst them: for the princes of the heathen haue more gloried and giuen themselues vnto the warres than to the interpre∣tation of bookes.

If ye will say, that those whiche presently be called Moores or Turkes, be the same people, whereof the Prophet spea∣keth: Scrutati sunt iniquitates, herevnto I answer,* 1.573 that as false is the one, as the other: for as muche as if we will haue regarde vnto the time of the raigne of King Dauid, which did prophe∣sie the same: vntill the time of Mahomet the first inuentor and conductor of the sect of the Moores, we shall find, that there dyd passe, lesse than 2000. and more than 1800. yeares.

If we would say and affirme that the Prophet did meane, and direct his speech vnto the Christians, I saye also it is most false, and repugnant vnto all troth, for being admitted, that the Christian faith had beginning to raigne 600. yeares, be∣fore the sect of the Moores, and more than 3000. yeares after the beginning of the Gentilitie or the Heathen from the tyme that this prophecie was written at Ierusalem, vnto y^e time they began to name themselues Christians at Antioch, there passed more than a thousand yeares, and also thrée hundred yeares more for aduantage.

Behold here truly verifyed, that since the prophecie may not be aduouched vpon the Gentiles, the Moores, neyther yet the Christians, that it is to be vnderstood, & spoken vnto you Iewes, more expressely, for y^t the Prophet saith not Scruteront,* 1.574 but Scruterent, giuing vs to vnderstande, that many yeares be∣fore King Dauid did pronounce the same, youre auncesters had then already begon to corrupt the sacred Scriptures, and

to adde vnto the same erroneous glosses.

I lie not, neyther do I repent to haue sayd, that your aun∣cient fathers, Scrutati sunt iniquitates, since they haue no grace to vnderstand the Prophecie of Ieremie which sayth,* 1.575 post dies multos (dicit dominus) dabo meam legem in visceribus illorum, & in corde eorū ad scribā legem meam As if he wold haue sayd: After ma∣ny dayes, and after many yeares, I will create a newe people, and will giue them a new lawe, whiche I my selfe will wright in theyr bowells,* 1.576 and hide within their harts: to the ende that no persone shall falsefy the same, and muche lesse shall they be able to for∣get it.

Then as the Prophecie which sayth: Scrutati sant iniquita∣tes. &c. is spoken onely vnto you, and not to all men: in lyke manner this Prophecie of Ieremy whiche sayth, dabo legem in visceribus illorum, &c. is spoken vnto vs Christians, and not to you Iewes.

For as muche as our Catholike fayth consisteth more in that which is rooted within our hartes, than in that whyche is written in bookes: in such manner the weale of the Chri∣stian lieth not in that whiche hée readeth, but in that which he beléeueth.* 1.577

The maruels that Christe hathe done, and the doctrines which he hath giuen vnto the world: It is necessary and well done, to knowe and also to reade them: but it is muche more founde and sure to beléeue them: for the number is infinite which be saued without reading, but not one persone without well beléeuing.

* 1.578The Edicts and Proclamations, which they ordeyned, and the lawes of Moses, Promotheus, Solon, Licurgus, and Numa Pompilius, were all written with their handes, and preserued and kept safe in their originals within their liberties: but the law of Iesus Christ, ought most certaynly to be writtē within our harts: for that, in as much, that the Lord gaue vs no other law, but the law of loue, he did like and thought it better, that we shoulde search and find the same within our hartes,* 1.579 than within our bookes.

And not without great mistery, God sayd by the mouth of your Prophet, y^t the law which his sonne should giue vs, y^t he shuld first write it within the harts, before y^e Euangelist shuld reduce them by writing into bookes: for after this manner, it might not be forgotten, neyther yet burned.

And so, if youre auncient predecessors, hadde obtayned the law of Moyses written in their harts, as they had them writtē in old parchment: they had not in times past worshipped the Idolls of Baal, Bell, Pegor, Asterot, Bahalim, and Belzebub: for whiche offence, you were caried captiue into straunge coun∣tries, and falne into your enimies hands.

How it came to passe, that the Hebrew tong was lost.

IN like manner ye vsed me with no small de∣spight, for that in disputing against you,* 1.580 I al∣leaged youre Esay, where God the Father speaking vnto his owne proper sonne, sayde these wordes, parum est mihi, vt suscites tribus Ia∣cob, & feces Israell: dedit te in lucem gentium vt sis salus mea vsque ad extremum terrae. As if hée would haue sayd: it is no great matter, that thou serue me, to suscitate and raise vp the lies of Iacob, and to conuert the dregges of Israell: for I haue gi∣uen thee also for a light vnto the Gentiles: to the ende that thou shalt be my sauing health vnto the ende of the worlde.

There is no man, hauing read although but little in the holy Scripture, that will not saye and affirme, that the Pro∣phet Esay was not an Hebrew borne, a Prophet of a noble line, and right eloquent in the scriptures: for which cause, you ought rather to blame and complayne of him, which doth call and tearme you lies and dregges of Iacob, than of me, the which in all oure diputations, haue not at any time alleaged any Christian doctor, but only Hebrewish Prophets.

I saye agayne, that you haue small reason to be offended with him or me: for there is another Prophet which doth call you off scowring, another venim, another lies, another dregs, another ordure,* 1.581 another slime, another smoke, another filthe, in suche wise, that as oft as ye did not ceasse to sin, so did they not ceasse to blason, and to expresse you with most perfect tearmes.

Are ye able to denie, that of your priesthood, of your Scep∣ter, of your Temple, of your Realme, of your lawe, of youre tong,* 1.582 either of your scripture, is there any remayning but the lies which smelleth, and the dregs which stinketh?

Surely, that which was in youre lawe, cleare, nete, preci∣ous, and odoriferous, long before the incarnation, was consu∣med: and that little which remayned, in Iesus Christ did take an end. And as cōcerning the priesthood of your law, the great sacrificer, or the high Priest, ought he not to be extract out of the Trybe of Leuy, whereof you haue nothing left but the lies? for yet in the time of yonger and better dayes, it was no more giuen vnto the Leuits that did best deserue it, but vnto him that offred most siluer: in such wise that to him that offred most,* 1.583 and had greatest skill to flatter, the priesthood was giuē: as when a garment is sold by the drumme.

Likewise of your Scepter royal, what haue you but y^e lyes? for Herod Eskalonite a straunger, did not onely vsurpe your Realme, but by industry caused the Prince Antigonus, sonne to Alexander your King, to be drowned: the finall end of youre Realme of Iudea,* 1.584 and of the Crowne of Israell.

What shall we say of your most auncient Temple, so ma∣gnificent in buildings, and so holy in the action of sacrifice: surely ye haue no other thing but the lies.

For ye well know, that forty yeares and no more. After ye crucifyed the Lorde Iesus Christe, the Emperours Titus and Vaspasian the father and sonne,* 1.585 did sack, destroy, and burne the same.

Of the Monarchy of your kingdome muche lesse haue you not of any thing, than the lies, for that, from the time, y^e great Pomp••y passed into Asia, and subdued Palestine, he neuer after committed fayth to any Iewe: I say to giue him any speciall charge of gouernmēt in the Citie, or defence of any fortresse,* 1.586 but perpetually did shew your selues subiect to the Romaynes, not as Vassals, but rather as slaues.

If we should speake of your auncient language, & of the old carrecters of your wrightings, we should likewise finde, that you haue not any thing left but lies: and for proofe thereof, first I pray you tell me, whiche is he amongst you, that kno∣weth the language of your ancesters, either can reade,* 1.587 or else vnderstand, any of the auncient Hebruish bookes?

But nowe to bring you to the knowledge thereof, I shall deduce, notwithstanding it doth not like you, directly and suc∣cessiuely, the beginning of your Hebrewish tong, and how by little and little it was lost agayne.* 1.588 Wherein you haue to vn∣derstand, that the Patriarke Noe, with his children and Ne∣phewes, escaping the Floud, went and did settle in the coun∣trey of Caldea: the situation whereof, is vnder the fourth Cli∣mate, the Regiō after the Floud first inhabited and populat, from whence be issued the Aegiptians, Sarmits, Greekes, Latines, and all other Nations. In the same Region, I meane beyond the riuer Euphrates, and neare vnto Mesopotamie: the Patriark Abraham was borne and nourished, the whiche being called of God, came to dwell in the countrie of Canaan, afterwardes na∣med Siria the lesse: the countrey where the good old Abraham and his generation did most inhabit.

In those days in that countrey of Canaan they had in vse to speake another language named Sirien, very differēt from the Calde tong: But as Abraham and hys posteritie dwelling in that countrey many yeares, these two languages by processe of time, grewe to be corrupted, Abraham hys family and suc∣cessors, being not able to learne the Sirien spéeche, neyther the Siriens the Calde tong: of these two languages there re∣mayned in vse one, which was named the Hebrew.

Also you haue to vnderstand, that this name Hebrew, is as much to say, as a man that is a straunger, or come from be∣yond the Riuer: and for that Abraham was come from the o∣ther side of the Riuer Euphrates, he was generally called He∣brew, in such wise, that of this name Hebrew, by the which A∣braham was called, the spéeche, tong, and language, was also named Hebraique, and not Caldean, notwithstanding that hée was of Caldea.

Many Doctors, Gréekes and Latins, haue sayde, that the Hebrew tong doth come from Heber, the sonne of Sale: and that it was the language, which was in vse and spoken before the generall Floud: notwithstanding, Rabialhazer, Mosanahadach, Aphesrura, Zimibi, and Sadoc, your most anciente and famous Hebrew doctors, do sweare and affirme, that the first spéeche and language in this world, was lost in the construction, or to say better, the confusion of the towre of Babylon, without perfe∣ction remayning in any one word of their language.

And then, since the language of Noe was lost, the Caldean conuerted into the Sirien, and the Sirien into the Hebrew, it came to passe that Iacob with his twelue sonnes, went to dwel in Egipt, where they did soiorne so long Captiues, that very neare they forgate the Hebrue tong, neyther aptly coulde learne the Egiptian language, remayning in their spéech and pronounciation corrupted.

And as after the destruction of the second Temple, as also the totall and finall losse and destruction of the holy lande. That your brethren were dispersed throughout the worlde, & for the most part Captiues, and that in you ther remayned nothing but the lies of Iacob, the things desolate of Israell, God did permitte that they shoulde ioyntly take ende, both the forme of your life, and the manner of your spéech.

* 1.589Behold here honorable Iewes, sufficiently proued by your owne doctors, that of your countrey, language, renowne, glo∣ry, and the whole state of your Sinagoge, ye haue nothing left but the lies, as the Prophet sayth, and the dregs and grounds of the tubbe.

In suche manner, that ye haue neither Lawe to obserue,* 1.590 King to obey, Scepter to estéeme, priesthood to aduaunce youre honor. Temple to pray in, Citie to inhabit, neyther language to speake.

And for that the scope and proofe of your obstination, and oure healthe and saluation, doth lye and consist in the veritie of the Scripture whiche we haue receyued,* 1.591 and the falshoode and corruption of thē which you confesse: it shall be expedient to recite, how, where, and when, youre Scriptures were corrupted and lost, euen as I haue produced and broughte foorth the losse of your language.

Ye haue therefore to vnderstande, that the fyue bookes of the lawe, the which your greate Duke Moyses did write, af∣ter he came foorth of the Land of Egypt, and before he entred the lande of promisse: and those whiche were written by the Prophet Samuell and Esdras, were all written in the Hebrew tong without any addition of the Egiptian language, for youre Moyses (being inspired by God in all the things hée did take in hand) did wright these bookes in the most auncient Hebrew tong, which is to vnderstande, in the very same that Abraham did speake at his comming out of Calde: God giuing you thereby to vnderstand, that you should haue folowed your father Abraham, not onely in the forme of your life, but also in your spéech.

During the time that Moyses, Aaron, Iosue, Ezechiell, Caleph, Gedeon, and all the fourtéene Dukes, did gouerne your Alia∣ma, vntill the decease of the excellent King Dauid,* 1.592 the lawe of Moyses was alway well vnderstood, and indifferently wel obserued.

But after the decease of these good personages, and the kingdome and gouernment being come into the handes of the successors of Dauid, the Sinagoge was neuer more well go∣uerned, neyther the Scriptures well vnderstoode: I woulde saye not well vnderstoode generally of the twelue Tribes.

There were notwithstanding, alwayes some parti∣cular persones of the house of Israell, the whiche were a∣greable

and also acceptable vnto God, and to the common wealth very profitable.

That your law was not from thencefoorth wel vnderstood, is most euident: for it was prohibited and defended in your A∣liama,* 1.593 that neyther the visions of Ezechiell, the sixt Chapter of Esay, the booke of the Canticles of Salomon, the booke of Iob, neyther the lamentations of Ieremy, should be read, or commented by any person: whiche was done, not bycause the bookes were not holy and approued, but rather bycause ye could not vnderstand them.

Muche lesse may you denie me, that your Rabby Salmon, Rabby Salomon,* 1.594 Rabby Fatuell, Rabby Aldugac, and Rabby Baruch, do not saye and affirme by their writings, that af∣ter your second deliuerance from the Captiuitie of Babylon, ye neuer more vnderstoode, to performe the Ceremonies of your temple, speake the Hebrew tong, either vnderstande the holy Scripture, much lesse to sing the Canticles of Dauid.

And no lesse may you denie, that of all sorts of your Iewish people in the dayes of the great Priest Mathathias, did repaire vnto the Court of king Antiochus, to sell the Realme, and to learne his law: and that which is more vile, ye consented that all the bookes of Moyses, shoulde publikely be burnt, and like∣wise permitted scholes in the Citie of Ierusalem, to reade the lawes of the Gentiles,* 1.595 placing also an Idol in the holy temple, vnto whome was offered incense, and other odours, as if it had bin the true God: the which most certaynly I woulde not haue spoken, if I had not found it written in the booke of Ma∣chabees.

And then our Lorde God, seing the wine of the lawe in a manner consumed, and that there remayned nothing but lies and dregs, and the time approching that the Gentiles shoulde be called and conuerted, and that in them the Church shoulde begin: he did permit and ordayne that all the holy scriptures should be translated into the gréeke tong, foreséeing y^t the He∣brew tong should be lost.

And how so famous a translation and interpretation came 〈2 pages missing〉〈2 pages missing〉

as touching their law, hauing also in y^e same charge to iudge all differences betwixt the people. They had likewise the charge to commaunde, and to make ordinances as touching the gouernement of the Common wealth, euen to the assigne∣ment & direction, what euery one should haue in his house.

These were the mē, hat did ordeyne and commande, that before the Hebrewes should sute at table,* 1.596 they shoulde wash their handes: the transgression of whiche Ceremonie the Iewes did accuse the Apostles, but as well defended by Ie∣sus Christ.

For surely, if these auncientes had not dealte farther than with the gouernement of their common wealth, and iudging their causes, it had bene notwithstanding a thing tolerable. But by their authoritie they thrust in themselues, to glose the Bible, and garboyle the scripture. Wherof the principal that therto did first giue attēpt, was Rabby Salmon, Rabby Enoch,* 1.597 Limuda, Rabby Adam, Rabby Elechana, and Rabby Ioiade, whose gloses ye haue as much praysed and estéemed, as if God him selfe had ordeyned, and Moyses written them.* 1.598 Whereof hath risen many errors in your Aliames, and many wrong and most vntruthes in the Scriptures, which you haue.

Neither are ye able to denie vnto mée, that by the meane of your false interpretations, and the erroneous vnderstan∣dings that your predicessors haue committed and done vppon the Bible, there hath not risen in your Synagoge,* 1.599 those thrée cursed sectes, of the Assees, Saduces, and Pharises, the which here∣tiques caused in your common wealth great scandalles, and in your lawe greate doubtes.

And to the ende you shall vnderstand, that I know all your secrets. It is not vnknowne vnto you,* 1.600 that .40. yeares before the incarnation of Iesus Christ, there was in Babylon a Iewe named Ionathan Abemiziell, so muche estéemed amongst you, and his doctrine so muche reuerenced, that your auctors haue sayde, that in him was renewed the fayth of Abraham, the pa∣cience of Iob, the zeale of Helie, and the spirite of Esay.

This Rabby Abemiziell, was the firste that translated the

Bible out of the Hebrew into the Caldian tongue, with suche diligence and fidelitie, that hée was thought to bée inspired of the holy Ghost in the doing thereof.

This good Iewe Abemiziel, is the same, the which, whereas the Psalmist sayeth, Dixit Dominus Domino meo: he sayde, Di∣xit Dominus verbo meo.

And in that Psalme whiche sayeth, Ego mortifico: hée sayde, Ego mortificor. And where it is sayde, Percutiam & ego sanabo: he sayde, Percutiar & ego sanabo.

And where it is sayde, Aduersus Dominum, & aduersus Christū eius: he sayde, Aduersus Dominum, & aduersus Messiam eius.

And where Salomon sayeth: Viam viri in adolescentia, he sayd, Viam viri in adolescentula. In suche manner, that in his woordes he séemed rather to prophesie than to translate.

The translation of this Iewe Abemiziel, is the same, which at this present we call the Caldian translation, and the which is moste in vse in the Orientall Churches, likewise is v∣sed of the Armenians, the Caldees, the Aegiptians, and of many Greekes.

* 1.601But the doctors of your law, perceyuing that many Iewes did conuert Christians, and that also conformable vnto his translation they gathered, that Christe was the true Messias. The whiche when they perceyued, they did assemble in the Citie of Babylon, in the fourthe yeare of the reygne of the Em∣perour Traian:* 1.602 wherein it was ordeyned, and commaunde∣ment giuen, vnder great penalties, that any of that translati∣on should neuer more be vsed, but in all places whersoeuer it should be founde, without remission to be burned.

The translation of Abemiziel béeyng condemned by the cō∣mon consent of the Iewes, it came to passe in the sixt yeare of the sayde Emperor Traian, a certayne greate and famous hea∣then Priest, borne in the Isle of Pont, named Aquile, did con∣uert himselfe to the lawe of Moyses, the which conuersion hée did not performe of conscience to saue his soule, but to obtaine in mariage an excellent fayre Iewishe woman, with whome he was farre inflamed.

And for that this Aquile, was a man very skilfull in the Gréeke and Hebrewe tongues, hée founde no better opportu∣nitie more aptly to shewe his spirite, than to take in hande the translation of all the holy Scripture, out of Hebrewe in∣to Gréeke.

This same was the first translation that was performed after the incarnation of Iesus Christe,* 1.603 in the yeare .104. af∣ter his natiuitie. The whiche translation among you Iewes, was in small estimation, bycause it was doone by suche a one as in tymes paste had bene a Heathen or Gentile, and of the Christians much lesse estéemed, for that it was brought to passe by him that was conuerted a Iewe.

Fiftie twoo yeares after the death of the sayde Aquile, it is to bée vnderstoode, in the eyght yeare of the euyll Empe∣rour Commodus:* 1.604 There was another Gréeke translation performed by a Iewe named Theodosius, the whiche after became a Christian: which remooued and made perfect all the errors of Aquile.

Thirtie seuen yeares after the death of Theodosius, which is to vnderstande,* 1.605 in the nynth yeare of the Empire of Seue∣rus: there was another translation performed out of the He∣brewe into Gréeke, by a man learned and vertuous, named Simachus, the whiche was approued, well allowed, and re∣seued throughout all the Easte: notwithstanding that, not long after it was reproued and reiected.

In those tymes, there raygned in the greatest partes of Asia, the Heresie of Ebionites, whereof Sainct Iohn in the Apo∣calips maketh reporte: notwithstanding that Theodosius and Simachus had bene faithfull in their translations, and of troth and veritable in their words: our Church would at no tyme receyue their scriptures, hauing no confidence in the credence of their persons.

Fourtéene yeares after the death of Simachus, whiche was the fifth yeare of the Empire of Heliogabalus, it came too passe, that a certayne Patriarcke of Ierusalem, béeyng

named Ioannes Budeus, founde in a caue at Iericho, faythfully written and catholikely translated out of Greke into Latine, all the olde and new Testament.

* 1.606This is the translation the whiche at this present the La∣tine Church doth vse, this is that which we call Quinta editio: and of others is named the Translation Hiericontini, which is to saye, that which was founde in Hiericho: the auctor whereof was neuer knowen.

In the eyght yeare of Alexāder Seuerus, the sonne of Mamea, which was about ten yeares after the translation Hiericontine was found, a Doctor of ours named Origene, did correct the trāslation of the .70. Interpreters, which is to vnderstand, in adding where they had bin briefe,* 1.607 declaring the darke myste∣ries, placing a little starre, as a marke, wher he had made de∣claration of any matter, and where he did remoue or take a∣way, he added the marke of a little arrowe.

All these sixe translations aboue mentioned, whiche is to say, of the .70. Interpreters, of Aquile, of Simachus, of Theodo∣sius, of Iericho, & that of Origene, our auncients did vse for cu∣stome, of them all to make one booke, writing in euery leafe, by six diuisions, and this booke was named, Hexapla, ab ex, quod est ex Latinè, quasi sex traductiones in se continens.

Foure hundreth yeares after this, a certaine Doctor of ours named S. Ierome, most certainly a man very holy, and in his tyme and of his temple most learned, and greatest vnder∣standing in the sacred Scriptures and humaine letters, and no lesse expert in the Gréeke, Hebrewe, and Caldée tongue. This man did in like maner correct the translation of the .70. Interpreters, & made also another by it selfe out of Greke in∣to Latine, as well of the olde as of the new Testament. The greatest part wherof, is now in vse in our Catholike Church, and is the same that we most estéeme.

In like maner I will that you vnderstande, that in the 314. yere after the natiuitie of our sauiour Iesus Christ, there was raysed among you a certayne Iewe of Idumaea, named Maier, a man very subtyle, and in the arte of Nygromancie

no lesse skilfull, which obtayned suche credite and reputation among you, that he made you fully beléeue, that God had gy∣uen twoo lawes vnto Moyses in the mount of Sinay:* 1.608 the one in writing, and the other in worde: and sayde, that God had done the same, knowing that in time the wrytten lawe shoulde bée loste, and that lawe shoulde raygne whiche was gyuen by woorde.

This cursed Iew Maier, further sayde, that God had reuea∣led this lawe vnto Moyses only and alone,* 1.609 and Moyses did re∣ueale the same to Iosue, and Iosue to his successors, and so from hand to hande it was reuealed vnto him, and that vnto him onely God had commaunded to put the same in writing, and to manifest the same to his Iewish people. Insomuch that the lawe of Moyses beganne to bée abolished, and the people and their lawe to be loste.

This lawe whiche your Iewe Maier had inuented, in the Hebrwe speache was named Misna, which is to saye, the Se∣crete lawe. This sayde lawe was glosed afterwards by ma∣ny of your doctors, namely by Rabby Manoa, Rabby Andasy, Rabby Butaora, and Rabby Samuel: the whiche in like manner with him did write many wretched and cursed things, and no small lyes, in preiudice of the lawe that Iesus Christe had preached vnto you, and the lawe which Moyses had giuen you.

This lawe is the same whiche your Rabbyes haue other∣wise named the booke of the Talmud, wherein your doctors do say, that when God vpon the Mount of Sinay, did gyue the law vnto Moyses, that then were present the soules of Dauid, of E∣say, of Ieremie, of Ezechiel, and of Daniel, and of all the other Prophetes. And likewise they saye, that there was present all the soules of theyr Rabbyes of the Synagogue,* 1.610 whiche shoulde declare bothe the lawes of Moyses, and also sayde, that shortly after God would anew create their bodies, to infuse these soules.

But it is right well knowen vnto you, that according to the Prophesies, and the lawes of Moyses, the true Messias, whiche was Iesus Christe, was then come, and that all

your Iewish Common wealth is nowe finished: for whiche cause ye haue preferred this lawe named Misna, and his glose, named Talmud, by the meane of which law and glosse, ye bold abused all the common people, and yeelde destruction to your Iewishe estate.

* 1.611Concluding, I say, that very well, to good, right, and direct purpose, I haue alleadged agaynste you that texte of Dauid, whiche sayeth, Scrutati sunt iniquitates: And the other of Esay, whiche sayeth, Parum est mihi vt suscites feces. In so muche, as you haue falsified the Scriptures,* 1.612 & inuēted other new lawes.

Wherefore, in respect thereof, I haue done you neyther wrong nor iniurie, considering also that at this present yee do more defende the lawe of Maier, than the lawe of Moyses. And for that I haue dilated this discourse, more than I thought to haue done, the reste shall remayne to bée verified in some other disputation.

An excellent disputation, which the Auctor held against the Iewes of Naples, wherein is declared the hyghe mysteries of of the Trinitie.

HOnorable Rabbyes, and stiffenecked Iewes, in the laste disputation holden betwixte vs on saterday last, ye would haue pluckt out myne eyes, and also haue beaten mée: bycause I al∣ledged thē these words of Iesus Christ, which say: Ego principium qui & loquor vobis. Answe∣ring ye sayde, that neyther Iesus Christ vnderstoode what he sayde, eyther I muche lesse what I defended: scornfully moc∣king ye affrmed that I was but simple: the whiche in déede may be very true. But to note my Lord Iesus Christ of false∣hoode, most certaynly of your parte it procéedeth of your to too greate wretchednesse, and moste excéeding and extreme wic∣kednesse: béeyng vtterly repugnant vnto his bountie to de∣ceyue, and to his diuinitie to lye. Were it in you, or had ye the grace to beléeue, as I, and all others do, and ought to beléeue, that his humanitie & word is vnited, ye would in like maner

beléeue & confesse that it were impossible, that the blissed Ie∣sus might erre, in that which he commaunded, eyther exercise his life as sinner, eyther his speache as lyer.

But forasmuche as ye remayne obstinate in your lawes of Moyses, ye deserue not to vnderstande so high mysteries. The law of Moyses I do not deny, but your Cabal I can in no wise credit, but vtterly defie, & firmly beleue the Gospell of Iesus Christ. And also most faythfully am fully persuaded, that whē Christ in his humanitie did take beginning, your ceremoniall law did then take ending. And from the present houre that y^e Lord Iesus Christ sayd vpō the crosse, Consummatū est, he gaue vs to vnderstande, that then was finished the holocaustes, sa∣crifices, oblations, figures, ceremonies, and also your royall scepter had then taken ende, and pontificall dignitie declined and in short time after vtterly consumed, and in the same mo∣mēt our church began to spring, & your synagoge to be buried.

There is now more than .1500. yeres past, that ye haue had neither King to obey, sacrifising priest to command, temple to pray in, sacrifice to offer, prophets in whome to giue credite, either as muche as a citie wherein to be succoured or repaire vnto: in suche wise, that to all men it is manifestly seene, that your sorowfull synagoge is dead, and ended without all hope for euermore to ryse agayne.

Iesus Christ sayde, that your kingdome should be remoued and taken away, that your temple should be subuerted and o∣uerthrowen, that ye shold be dispersed throughout the world, y^e Ierusalem should be destroyed, & that your law should be lost. In like maner Iesus Christ sayd, that ye should dye obstinate in your sinnes, and so cōtinue wandering as vacabunds vntill the ende of the world.

Notwithstanding that ye remained in bondage, seruitude, & slauery, in those two greate captiuities of Aegipt & Babylon, yet there remained with you some rēnāt of priesthood, of prophet, of king, or of law. But after y^e cōming of Iesus Christ, all was lost, al was finished, & al was vanished away, nothing remai∣ning vnto you, but the name of Iewes, & the liberty of slaues.

There is not any nation in this worlde, be it neuer so barba∣rous, that hath not some place to retire vnto, or some captaine to defend them, the Garaments of Asia, the Messagetes bordering vppon the Indians, and the Negros of Aethiope, bearing witnesse, except you most miserable Iewes, the which in all places and countries be fugitiues and captiues.

Certaynely, moste obstinate and stiffe necked people, I do not maruell that I haue so little profited, and done so little good amongst you in these fyue monethes, in arguing, prea∣ching, and disputing: in so muche that Iesus Christ with his excellent doctrine and maruelous miracles, could do no more in .30. yeares, hauing no grace to accept the same in better part, than to crucifie him for his greate bountie.

Then sithens the principall cause of your losse doth consist, in that yée beléeue not the newe Testament, neyther vnder∣stand the olde, which is most true. For, if soundly and intierly ye had vnderstanding of the sacred scripture, with your owne handes ye would set fire vnto the synagogue.

And for that you haue all in generall, and euery one in particular, desired mée, to say and gyue you to vnderstande, what, or howe the Christians do conceyue, and what our do∣ctors and learned men do teache, as touching the right hyghe mysterie of the Trinitie.

I pray you also honorable Rabbies, to be intentiue to that which I shall propose, and to haue regard to that which I shal determine, for that the mysteries of the Trinitie, be of suche depth and profunditie, that they ought to be beléeued with the vnderstanding, although reason may not shewe and compre∣hend them. Forasmuch as all you Rabbies & Iewes, whiche be present, do well vnderstand the Latine and the Spanishe tongue, and I vnderstand your Hebrew & the Italian tongs, I will endeuoire and vndertake to declare the best that I can, this mysterie of the Trinitie, partly in Latine, and partly in Hebrew, & partly in Spanishe: for the matter is so high, that one language is not sufficient to declare the same.

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scilicet singularitatis, incommutabilitatis: et dignitatis. By this I vnderstande, that for one personne, to bee a Di∣uine personne, it is requisite, that he shoulde haue thrée thinges, whiche is to vnderstande, that it haue in it some singularitie: whiche is not founde in any other, Incom∣mutabilite, whiche vnto it and to no other, is communi∣cated: And some dignitie, which in it, and not in any o∣ther is to bée founde. The personne of Iesus Christ our God, by all these reasons here aboue sayde, is a person Diuine, notwithstanding, it bee cladde with humayne fleshe. As touching the fyrst, which is to haue some pri∣uiledge of singularitie, that hath beene founde, in the Soule of Iesus Christe, the which onely by spetiall grace, from the howre it was create, it was vnited with the Diuine worde.

The seconde priuiledge of Iucommutabilite, was founde in the Sacred bodye of Iesus Christe, the whiche in the Wombe of his gloryous mother, lykewise, was by the holye Ghoste fourmed, Et a verbo Assumptum. The thyrde priuiledge, whiche is of dignitye, is lykewyse founde in the Soule and bodye of Iesus Christe, remay∣ning in his humayne nature, and not, but one person: the whiche was and is Diuine.

You haue farther to vnderstande, honourable Rabbis. That there are twoo termes: the diffinicion of which, is verye necessarie to bee knowne vnto them, That seeke to vnderstande any thing in the holye Scripture, whiche is to saye: Actes essentialles, and actes personalies. The example thereof is written in the fyrste Chapter of Ge∣nesis. Jn principio Creauit deus Celum et terram, &c. In this place here, this name Deus, Accipitur essentialiter, Et non personaliter, quia creare est actus essentiales, et non per∣sonalis: et conuenit e rinitati, in quantum deus.

Also it is writtē, Dominus dixit ad me filius meus es tu: in which place, this name (dominus) Accipitur personaliter, et nō essentiali∣ter:* 1.613 qui de patris persona precise intelligitur: et in diuini, generare est actus personalis, et non essentialis, et est notio ipssius patris. Like∣wise ye haue to vnderstande, that as in Iesus Christ, is one person diuine, there is in y^e same diuine nature: humaine na∣ture, & mistical nature. Prima est eterna, Secunda est a verbo as∣sumpta. Tertia est in Adam corrupta, qui licet nō sunt altera spe∣tie ab humanitate Christi, tamen est altera secundū conditionē na∣ture sauciate. In the scriptures Iesus Christ is introduced sometimes,* 1.614 speaking according to diuine & eternal nature, as when it is sayd: Dominus dixit ad me filius meus est tu: Some∣times speaking in the humaine nature, As when he sayth: In capite libri scriptū est deme et illum: non est exaltatū cor meū. &c. And sometimes is brought in speaking according to the na∣ture mistical, & corrupted. So as, Longe A salute meaver ba de∣lictorum meorum, et illud: Delicta labiorum meorum non sunt a te abscondita. The which he sayd, as of the paine, not touching y^e faulte, for as much as the body mistical dyd perpetrate, & his true & verie body dyd paye and suffer. Our amitie is so lytle. That our proper sinnes we discharge vpō others: And in Ie∣sus Christ, charitie is so great, That he taketh the sinnes of o∣thers, vpon him selfe: in such maner that he confesseth to haue many sinnes, for as much, as he is the redéemer of many sin∣ners. Behold honorable Rabbis, what it is that the Christiās doe vnderstand, of his diuinitie, and that which we confesse of his humanitie. Vnto which faith I extéeme to lyue, and pro∣test to dye. And for that I haue sayd more then I thought to haue done, yea and more then ye would haue heard: we wyll remitte for another disputacion, both your doubtes, and my aunsweres: Considering that my Lordes the Prelates, And the noble men that be here, do staye to goe to dinner, and to withdrawe them selues. &c.

¶ A Letter to Syr Ferdenando of Cordoua, wherein is discoursed the eleuen persecutions of the Church: when, and by whom they were persecuted.

WOrshipful Syr and Christian Knight, Iohn de Cabreta your Steward deliuered me a letter from your wor∣ship, which was as long as betwéen Madrid & Alma∣gro, where at this present you do remaine: wherby if you thinke to receiue no short answere: by writing so long a Letter: you do much abuse your selfe, for wanting oportunity & leasure to studie: I maie not imploye my selfe to write such long & tedious Epistles: especiallye, when he to whom they are written is simply, but a friend: Yet true friends delight, not only in reading lōg letters, but are grieued if their friends write not euery day: al which aboue sayd, is not to say: that I estéeme not to place you in the chie∣festes rankes of my best friends. And if you imagine the contrarie, you are much deceiued: For your friendes & mine do wel know that Don Ferdenand de Cordoua, and Friar Anthony de Gueuarra Bi∣shop of Mondoneto be twoo bodies ioyned in one wyll, linked in a chaine of in dissoluble amitie. But omitting this discourse, & retor∣ning to your letter: I assure you it pleased me very much, & chieflie in that I perceiued your good dispositiō, which is no smal matter in y^e middest of these perillous heates. Now touching the persecutions of the myllitant Church: wherof you haue written, & wherof the Prior of Calatrana & you haue liberally discoursed: I aunswere, that there haue beene many persecutions of the Church: done at sundry times and by seuerall Princes. And for that I greatly desire to do you that seruice which lyeth in my power, I haue not fayled to sende you the sayde persecutions in order as followeth.

The first persecution was in the raigne of y^e Emperour Nero, the which (possessed with y^e Deuil, in whose bonds his offēces did impri∣sō him) perceiuing the nūber of Christiās daily to increase at Rome (by grace of y^e euangelical worde which Peter & Paul preached there, where they were martered for such conuersion of y^e people) determi∣ned with his power to persecute & destroye the Church: whereby he murdred many Christiās, as wel in Rome as els where, which was the first persecution of the Church. For albeit the Church since the suffering of Christ hath béen continually persecuted in hir perticuler

members, yet notwithstanding vntyll the comming of Nero, there went forth no commaundement to persecute the Christians.

Touching the constancy of the Martyrs, and the diuersitie of the tormentes which they endured (beside the Catholique Historiogra∣phers which write therof) Cornelius Tacitus a Painim writer, and enemie to the Christians (yet verye credible in his writing) doth re∣port the same: who making recitall of the persecutions made by the ordinaunce of the Emperour Nero, (of whome Sueton maketh also mencion) doth say of the slaughter of Christians, both men and wo∣men: that amongest a thousande diuersities of punishmentes and deathes, they cast the Christians to be torne in péeces with dogges: And to make the dogges more fierce vpon them, the men were bra∣ced in skinnes of Beares, and other sauadge Beastes. Which per∣secution was performed (as witnesseth Cornelius Tacitus and Sue∣tonius) after the huge fire of Rome: In the eleuenth yéere of the Em∣pyre of Nero: by whose decrée the glorious Apostles Peter and Paul were martyrred. It maye well bée, as I also beléeue, that this mar∣tyrdome continued lytle more then thrée yéeres: For though it were done at that time (according to the Prior of Calatrana his opinion) yet God would preserue his Apostles, and deferre their martyrdoms vntyll the foresayde time.

The second persecution was in the time of the Emperour Domi∣tian. This wicked and accursed monster, vnderstanding that there should one spring out of the lyne of Dauid, which should expell him out of the Empyre, he caused search to be made with much diligence, for all those whiche descended from the race of Dauid amongst the Iewes, and caused them to be put to death: onelye raunsoming as Eusebius sayth twoo persons of the same familie, who further for the accomplishment of his deuillishe deuices, at the motion of the fiende he determined to persecute the Catholique Churche: Whereby at his commandement a great slaughter was made of Christians with∣in Rome and without. In which persecution multitudes of the Chri∣stians were at the first committed to banishment, who after were tormented, and then murdered by most horrible paines and cruell deaths, as affirmed Eusebius: Orosius and many other Christian Hi∣storiographers. This was the second general persecution of the pri∣mitiue Church, in which S. Iohn the Euangelist was confined, or

exiled into the Yle of Pathinos where he sawe the visions of the A∣pocalips. It were hard to know how long this persecution endured, but as we may gather by Eusebius, it continued twoo yéeres & a lytle more. For he sayth that Domician dyd moderate and cease his exe∣cution, and yet notwithstanding aswel by reason of the sayd persecu∣tion as for his other vices, the same Domician hath béene holden to be one of the most wicked and cruell Princes that euer liued.

The third persecution of the Church was vnder the gouernment of the Emperour Traian, who allured by the Deuill & his other mi∣nisters determined by torments to punishe the Christians: and ther∣fore by publique edict, ordayned that the Christians should worship the Idol of the Gentiles vpon paine of death: Wherevnto the Chri∣stians not wylling to obey, he made a great slaughter of them. This was the third persecution of the Church Catholique, whereof Euse∣bius and diuers other Historiographers Christians do make plenti∣ful mencion, & that was in the tenth yéere of the Empyre of Traian, which afterward also commaunded this persecution to be stayed as doth apeare by some writers, & especially in the letters of Plyny di∣rected to Traian, & in the answeres thereto sent by the same Empe∣ror which are at this presēt extant, where he prescribed that the chri∣stians should be permitted to lyue in their Lawes and vnder theyr liberties: If they dyd not commit any other wickednesse therewith.

The fourth persecution was in the time, and vnder the dominion of the Emperor Marcus Aurelius surnamed the Philosopher, whose lyfe we haue discribed in another booke apart by it selfe, this Prince during the tyme that he made warres against the Parthians, as Eu∣sebius and Orosius do declare, endeuored his power to persecute the Christians, which remayned in Europe and Asia, where Lucus Va∣rus was gouernour. This was the fourth persecution of the Church myllitant, so that it followeth that God suffered this general pesti∣lence to raigne amongst them, and a thousande other callamities to happen vnto them enduring the gouernment of this Prince as wee haue largely declared in his Cronicle.

The fift persecution of the Church was during the raigne of Sep∣timus Seuerus the Emperour the which by the instigation of y^e deuil, made a great butcherie of the faithful Christiās. This fift persecutiō was the cause (as fayth Osorius) y^e God dyd not permit this Prince

to lyue in peace, for one of his Captaines rebelled against him, na∣med Albinius, the which made all Brittany to reuolt from him, cal∣ling him selfe Emperour during the time of his life.

The sixt persecution of the Church was in the time of the Em∣perour Maximius, the cursed Prince being offended that Alexander Seuerus had supported the Christians, by expresse ordinaunce & com∣mission made a great and blooddye spoyle of the Christians, & princi∣pallie of y^e ministers of those which executed any aucthoritie amōgst the Christiā people: This was the sixt persecutiō as saith Eusebius & Orosius in the which this Prince vsed many vnacustomed tormēts, and caused diuers cruell punishmentes to be inuented, whereby the poore Christians might be miserablye handled, who had such an opi∣nion and presumptuous pride of himselfe & his power, that he estée∣med that no person might once hurt him, and that it were impossible to wounde or to kyll him. In which opinion he most deuillishlie pur∣sued all his cruelties and tormentes.

The seuenth persecution was in the rule of the Emperor Decius: This Prince although otherwise he were of good naturall dispositi∣on, was notwithstanding in religion an Infidell, and in that respect sought the vexation of the millitant Church, so that no such crueltye were before tyme vsed, as nowe in his tyme towardes the afflicted Christians. The which is affirmed that he onely dyd in despite of his prodecessour Phillip: who had before béene Christened. And so this seuenth persecution was in the time of this Decius.

The eyght persecution was enduring the raigne of the Em∣perour Valerian: who (as Eusebius doth report) was so fauourable to the Christians in the beginning of his raigne, that he would not permitte that any personne dyd them any wrong or violence: for he bare such affection and honour vnto them that his pallace was a true colledge and sanctuarie for the Christians: but towardes the ende of his raigne, he suffred him selfe to be seduced by a Magicien of Egipt, who was a deadlye enemie to the Christian religion, because the same dyd impugne the deceiptes and Sorceries of the Magicians. In such sort that he dyd not all onely chaunge his opinion towardes the Christians, but also persecuted them with great slaughter. This was the eyght persecution of which Orosius doth liberally discourse, but such was the iustice of God for his cruell excesse, that such euyll

fortune followed Valerian after this déede, that he was taken priso∣ner and fell into the handes of Sapor King of Percia which dyd in∣treate and handle him most cruelly.

The ninth persecution of the Church was in the time of the Em∣perour Aurelian, who hauing most louinglie vsed the Christians in the first sixe yeares of his raigne (as appeareth by the writing of Eu∣sebius and Orosius) in the ende by the prouocation of the Deuill and other most wicked persons, he persecuted the Christians generally throughout all the confines of his Empire. And this was the ninth persecution of y^e faithfull. Now it happened that as this Prince was readie to signe a commission which he was to dispatche to the gouer∣nors of the Princes of the Empire against the Christians, an arrow fell from Heauen so neare vnto him that those which were present, thought that it had kylled the Emperour. But besides this signe and aduertisement God suffered the effect to followe, that is to saye, the death of the aforesayd Prince, for he was miserablye slaine by his owne men and seruauntes, and by the same receyued the guer∣done and payment of his desartes and offences.

The tenth persecution was in the time of the Emperour Dio∣desian. This Prince being in quiet rest from all his affaires, styr∣red by Belzebub and his ministers: he being a Painim and norished in the supersticions of the Idolatrye of the Gentiles, beganne to persecute and pursue the Catholike church, which was the tenth ge∣nerall persecution of the Christians, (to accoumpt from the same of Nero) and this was the most cruell & longest of continuaunce of al o∣thers, the which endured by the space of ten continuall yeares. Now the Christiās had long time liued in rest & quiet since the persecution which was in the gouernment of the Emperor Aurelian, in such sort y^t the Christian religion was now become of great force in all chur∣ches. And all the Cities and Towns, as well within the dominions of the Emperour, as without the limmits of the same: and the Chri∣stians were excéedinglie multiplied in nomber, and had great assem∣blies in their Churches. But as sayth Eusebius, this rest and libertie which they enioyed, was cause that the pollicie and maner of lyuing of the Christians began to bee corrupted, so that many iniquities & wickednesse dyd grow presently, & the old former sanctimony began to deminishe, and such disorders & discentions began to be moued a∣mongst

the Bishops and the Prelats, that as the sayd Eusebius wit∣nesseth: God permitted this persecution to serue in place of reuenge, and chastisement of his Church. This persecution was so great, so cruell, and so blooddy: that it is impossible for any pen to write the vnnatural slaughters which the Paynims vsed: neither is there any tongue that is able to pronoūce them. The which Eusebius doth well declare, being a present witnesse, beholding the same with his eies, as done in his owne sight: for he sayth that he cannot discribe nor speake that which he saw executed before his face. To whom Orosi∣us doth condiscend, wryting in the same sort, that there was not any heart so harde that would not be moued to compassion, reading the cruelties of this persecution. Which amaseth me to consider of the constancie of the Martyrs which endured such tormentes so valiant∣lye, and of the cruelty of those which murdered and tormented them so maliciouslye. And to the entent that you and all other shoulde know what punishments this butcherlie Prince ministred vnto the Christians, I haue wyllinglie recited some notable partes of the same, which be these. Fyrst this Prince dyd ruinate and sacke al the Churches of the Christians, and forbid them to make any assembles for the seruice of God in any part: be commaunded all the bookes of the holy Scriptures to be burned which they might finde. Also he or∣dayned that all Christians of what estate or condition so euer they were, should not be admitted to estate or any office of Magistrat, and y^t those presentlie which were placed in any offices should be remo∣ued, and counted infamed, and some were put to death for example.

Further they appointed that the goodes of the Byshops and Pre∣lates Christians, shoulde be declared to be consticate and for fayted. The Christian bond man could not be manumitted or enfranchised. And these Lawes were published through the confines of the Em∣pyre. Besides the which constitucions, the poore miserable Christi∣ans, were otherwise most wickedly intreated, and receiued diuers outragious iniuries: diuers being enforced to dye cruellye and with much shame. And in some prouinces where they were blinded with affections & perticular occasions which the Deuil guided by the per∣mission of the diuine God, they vsed many cruelties and incredible horriblenesse towardes the Christians, as in Frigia, Suria, Egipt, and diuers other countreys, for some were broyled and scorched in

lyfe, and others had theyr fleshe carded as though it had béene well, or flaxe, which poore Christian creatures after suche burning and torments, were throwen into straite prison, in great féeblenesse, and yet honest and constant in the faith, they were hanged naked by the féete, to prolong theyr deathes the more with shame and dishonesty. And by that meanes endured double torment, of some they cut of the noose, the eares, the fingers, the handes, and the féete, and onely left them theyr eyes to behold their miserie, and to encrease their griefe and paine, they tare some alyue quite in the middest, tying one legge to a great arme of a Trée bended with force, and the other legge to a∣nother trée crooked in the same manner: Afterward letting the same Trées to returne into his naturall place, for to cleaue the body in sunder. So others they vsed this cruelty, that they pricked sharpe néedles and great thornes betwéene the nayles of the fleshe and the handes, which be the most sensible and tenderest partes of al the bo∣dy. Some other men were beaten with rounde balles, and pellets of Leade and Tynne. In conclusion they were enforced to endure and sustaine the most cruell tormentes which might bée deuised, by the Deuilles pollicie. And this slaughter of the Christians was ex∣céeding great, during this persecution.

The eleuenth and last persecution generally of the Church was enduring the gouernment of the Emperor Iulianus, which was an Idolater, & Sacrificer to the Deuill: Which Emperour studied by al meanes he might to persecute the christian church. Who likewise to attaine the effect of his purposed deuise, dyd vse a singuler & vnaccu∣stomed subtiltie, by the which vnder cloked & collor of shadowed cur∣tesie & benignitie, he did enféeble the Christiā religion as much as he could, giuing them alwaies yet to vnderstand, y^t he was soft & gentle by nature, & not cruel & rigorous. This new inuēcion in persecuting the Church was subtilly found out by him as I think, bicause he had séen & by experiēce did vnderstand y^t the blood of y^e martirs did cause the christiā religion to spring more frutefully. And therfore he deter∣mined to worke & procéede contrary to y^e other Emperors his prode∣cessors had performed, y^t is to say, to draw y^e christiās vnto his Idola∣trous worshipping by aduancement of estats, offices, & dignities, as witnesseth Ruffinus, S. Hierom & Casiodorus, so y^t hereby he caused diuers ambicious & couetous persōs to denie christianity, & to folow Idolatry, by means of y^e estates & offices which they had giuē them.

This was the greatest wound that euer the Church receiued, for di∣uers Christians by the meanes of this inuencion, remooued theyr faith, but in the ende when the Emperor Iulian perceyued that these deuises serued to small ende to his entent, although he made them not to léese their lyues, neyther dyd violentlye constraine their con∣sciences. Yet he published diuers hurtfull edictes against the Chri∣stians, and verye vitious for Christianitie. First he commaunded that no Christian might obtaine any degrée in Schoole, kéepe Lec∣ture, or reade in any arte or science, whatsoeuer, neyther that hée might be admitted to studdie, vnlesse he dyd worship the Idols. The which he dyd to the ende y^t the Christians banished from the know∣ledge of learning should be brought to Idolatrie, or that they should els remaine fooles and ignorant Ideots, and so by continuance that none should be able to preache the Euangelie. Also he ordained that no Christian shoulde be admitted to any estate, office, or dignitie of Magistrate, eyther in warre or peace. In conclusion this monster searched out all the wayes to rayse battaile against Iesus Christ, without shaedding humaine blood, which was the right deuise of the Deuill, to depriue the blessed Martyrs from the glorye and crowne which they should haue obtained for theyr martyrdome. Behold the first, & most notable persecutions, which the church millitant sustai∣ned: since which time there hath béen many other, in euery seuerall place, but they were of small importaunce in respect of these before sayde. Touching the rest, because I am wéery of writing this long letter, & that my pen can do me no more seruice therin. I say nothing else but this, that I wyl more redéelie employ my selfe towards the Countie of Osarno, for y^e affaires of Vasco lopes, which you haue re∣cōmended vnto my fauor: as soone as the sayd Coūtie may attend the same, for he kéepeth his bed at this instant, & laboreth gréeuously of y^e Gowte. The Lord haue you in his kéeping, & giue mée grace to serue him.

From Valiodolid the .15. of Iune. Anno. 1541.

Notes

• * 1.1

  What they gaue in olde tune in reward for good newes.
• * 1.2

  God will not but that we gratifie the good thing we receyue.
• * 1.3

  In the wars more than in other things fortune vseth doublenesse.
• * 1.4

  There is no sacrifice more accepted, than to pardon an enimie.
• * 1.5

  The man that is feared, hath neede to feare.
• * 1.6

  It is more sure to forget an iniurie, than to reuenge it.
• * 1.7

  Fewe & good wordes are to be vsed with Princes.
• * 1.8

  How in the old tyme they called their Kings.
• * 1.9

  In the olde time to bee a king was no dignitie, but an office.
• * 1.10

  He that kno∣weth not to gouern, deser∣ueth not to reigne.
• * 1.11

  Amongst the Romaines a Priest was called a king.
• * 1.12

  In old times they did not boast them∣selues with vaine titles.
• * 1.13

  The office of the Edil was the maister of ceremonies in triumphs and theatres.
• * 1.14

  How the na∣me of Empe∣rour was first found out.
• * 1.15

  The beste of∣fice is to bee holden by the best man.
• * 1.16

  It is more worthy to de∣serue honoure than to hold it
• * 1.17

  The ingrate Prince is vn∣fortunate.
• * 1.18

  What condi∣tions a good king shoulde haue.
• * 1.19

  The good king doth for∣get his owne iniuries, and doth chastise the offences to God.
• * 1.20

  In palace more is spoy∣led than spent.
• * 1.21

  The disordi∣nate expences of the mightie is to bring ne∣cessitie.
• * 1.22

  The secrete is to be remit¦ted to God, but the publik offence to be chastised.
• * 1.23

  The good king ought to impart his goodes, but not his con∣science.
• * 1.24

  Princes are more viewed and more ac∣cused than the rest.
• * 1.25

  The conditi∣ons of a good king.
• * 1.26

  Princes ou∣ght so to re∣create them∣selues, that thereof ryse none offence.
• * 1.27

  Princes ou∣ght to limite their recrea∣tions.
• * 1.28

  In the aunci∣ent times yron was vsed in coyne.
• * 1.29

  It is to be no∣ted that all lawes are re∣duced from three lawes.
• * 1.30

  Seuen maner of auncient lawes.
• * 1.31

  Lawes onely for Romane Senators.
• * 1.32

  The lawes for warre, they v∣sed in Rome.
• * 1.33

  The first that made lawes for warres.
• * 1.34

  The procurer of the people was most pri∣uiledged in Rome.
• * 1.35

  We receiue li∣beralitie from the Prince, when he com∣maundeth to serue.
• * 1.36

  Note the great vertues of the Philosopher Licurgus.
• * 1.37

  Of him that brought vp one dog fat in idlenesse and in the house, & the other in the field.
• * 1.38

  To be good, it doth much pro¦fite to be well brought vp.
• * 1.39

  A notable proclamation daily made.
• * 1.40

  A right wor∣thy search.
• * 1.41

  Bathes and oyntmēts for∣bidden.
• * 1.42

  The authori∣tie of old men.
• * 1.43

  The disobedi∣ent sonne both chastised and disinherited.
• * 1.44

  A friend by fraternitie.
• * 1.45

  New inuen∣tiō, and the in∣uentors bani∣shed.
• * 1.46

  An honour v∣sed to the dead that valiantly died in the warres.
• * 1.47

  Gentlemen may commen, but not cōtend
• * 1.48

  For what causes a Gen∣tleman may be inflamed with choler.
• * 1.49

  Helia is nowe Ierusalē, and Byzantio is Constantino∣ple.
• * 1.50

  Numantia was named of Numa Pom∣pilius.
• * 1.51

  The Numan∣tins in the warres did ra∣ther die than flee.
• * 1.52

  Rome was en¦uious of the fortune of Nu∣mantia.
• * 1.53

  Nine Consul∣les were, slaine at the siege of Numantia.
• * 1.54

  The good Cap¦taine ought ra∣ther loose his life than make an infamous truce.
• * 1.55

  In the war∣res vice doth more hurt thā the enimies.
• * 1.56

  The Numā∣tines did eate the fleshe of the Romains
• * 1.57

  To fight with a desparate man is no small perill.
• * 1.58

  The noble minded had rather die free than lyue a slaue.
• * 1.59

  The Numan¦tines did kill their wiues and children.
• * 1.60

  No Numan∣tine taken prisoner.
• * 1.61

  The continu∣ance of the prosperitie of Numantia.
• * 1.62

  In the war∣res it impor∣teth dot to write with an euill pen.
• * 1.63

  More is spent to maynteyne opinion, than to defende reason.
• * 1.64

  No excuse may excuse y^e losse of a bat∣tayle.
• * 1.65

  A iust warre is loste by an vniust cap∣taine.
• * 1.66

  An euill lyfe doth come to make repay∣ment in one day.
• * 1.67

  The more noble victorie is that which is obtayned by counsel thā by the sword.
• * 1.68

  Iron was made to eare fields, and not to kill men.
• * 1.69

  We ought ra¦ther to make tryall by per∣swasion, than by sworde.
• * 1.70

  The bloudie Captain doth finishe his days with an euill ende. Iulius Ce∣sar pardoned more enimies than he kilde.
• * 1.71

  It is more lo∣ued that is ob¦teyned by re∣quest than by the sworde.
• * 1.72

  In tyme of warre it bese∣meth not a knighte to write from his house.
• * 1.73

  Note y^e right conditions of a right gētle∣man.
• * 1.74

  Is a gentle∣man a fault is tolerable, if it be not vile.
• * 1.75

  The good knight hath in possessiō more armour than bookes.
• * 1.76

  Iudas Ma∣chabeus had rather lose his his lyfe, than his fame.
• * 1.77

  To cōmaund many wil cost muche.
• * 1.78

  Note the wor¦des of a vali∣ant captain.
• * 1.79

  To demaunde how many, & not where the enimies be, is a signe of fear.
• * 1.80

  Words word∣thy to be en∣graued on his tombe.
• * 1.81

  Of more va∣lue is the no∣ble mynded & expert captain than a greate armie.
• * 1.82

  Who was the valiāt Viria∣to captain of Spayne.
• * 1.83

  Viriato was inuincible in the warres.
• * 1.84

  Fewe vices are sufficiente to darken ma¦ny victories.
• * 1.85

  Note what is due betwixte friendes.
• * 1.86

  Ingratitude seldom or ne∣uer pardoned.
• * 1.87

  The grace that is giuen in preaching is seldome gi∣uen in wri∣ting.
• * 1.88

  The hearte is more moued hearing the word of God than by rea∣ding.
• * 1.89

  The old lawe gaue punish∣ment to the euill, but no glorie to the good.
• * 1.90

  Vntill Christ none proclay∣med rest.
• * 1.91

  For what cause Christe saide, my yoke is sweete, and my burden is light.
• * 1.92

  The propertie of a faithfull louer.
• * 1.93

  Perfect loue endureth all trauell.
• * 1.94

  Christ did not commaund vs to doe, that whiche he did not first expe∣rimēt himself.
• * 1.95

  The worlde doth more cha∣stise than par∣don, but in the house of God more pardo∣ned than cha∣stised.
• * 1.96

  In all the lawes of the world vices be permitted, Christes lawes excep∣ted.
• * 1.97

  The Lawe of christ is sharp vnto the wic∣ked, but easie and light to the vertuouse.
• * 1.98

  Daughters are to be mar∣ried before they grow old
• * 1.99

  The Ipineās did write the date of their letters with y^e superscriptiō.
• * 1.100

  With what paper they were wont to write.
• * 1.101

  Note the inck of old time.
• * 1.102

  Famouse elo∣quence of the Auctor in a base matter.
• * 1.103

  Notable exā∣ples of cōtinē∣cie in Princes
• * 1.104

  Catiline a ty∣rant of Rome.
• * 1.105

  It ought not to be written that cannot be written.
• * 1.106

  The inuētion of the A.B.C.
• * 1.107

  The rentes of great Lords, ought to be a∣greeable to their titles.
• * 1.108

  Gamsters at dice play them selues to no∣thing.
• * 1.109

  Postes in old time made great speede.
• * 1.110

  Euill newes neuer cōmeth to late.
• * 1.111

  The auctor reporteth of his linage of Gueuara.
• * 1.112

  To descend of a noble bloud, prouoketh to be vertuous.
• * 1.113

  The auncient and noble Li∣nages in Rome were much estee∣med.
• * 1.114

  In Rome they bare no office that des∣cended of trai∣tours.
• * 1.115

  The proper∣ties of a man born of a good linage.
• * 1.116

  A note of the Giants of the old time.
• * 1.117

  The differēce betwixt the great and litle men.
• * 1.118

  Of a little Frier of the Abbay of Guysando.
• * 1.119

  Little thinges giue more of∣fence than profite.
• * 1.120

  A sise is obser∣ued in nothing but in sermōs.
• * 1.121

  More graui∣tie is required in writing, thā in talking.
• * 1.122

  Note the bre∣uitie of ancient writing.
• * 1.123

  Twoo Ro∣mane Cap∣taines would two manner of warres.
• * 1.124

  The warres against Nu∣mantia was vmust.
• * 1.125

  The nature of warres that is to be holden iust.
• * 1.126

  Warres be∣twixt christiās dependeth of the secretes God.
• * 1.127

  Eight condi∣cions meete to be performed, by a captaine generall of the warres.
• * 1.128

  The good knight ought to imitate his good predeces∣sors.
• * 1.129

  He is not to be intituled a knight that is rich, but ver∣tuous.
• * 1.130

  In the talke of warres, not that I haue heard, but that I haue scene is most com∣mendable for a gentleman.
• * 1.131

  The armes of a knight are giuen him to fight, and not to behold.
• * 1.132

  Age and abili∣tie be mothers of good coun∣sell.
• * 1.133

  The gene∣rous and no∣ble mind dothe more feare to flie, than to a∣bide.
• * 1.134

  In soden pe∣rils it needeth not to vse lōg and delayed counsels.
• * 1.135

  A fort ought to be the sepul¦chre of the de∣fendant.
• * 1.136

  If many be married, they are not fewe that be repen∣tant.
• * 1.137

  No married man may liue without tra∣uell.
• * 1.138

  That man is miserable that is maried vn∣to a foolish woman.
• * 1.139

  Worship is not blemished by answering of a letter.
• * 1.140

  A Prince did write vnto a bitmaker.
• * 1.141

  A noble Ro∣mane did write vnto a plough man.
• * 1.142

  No man is so euill in whom there is not somwhat to be praysed.
• * 1.143

  Negligence & presumptiō be two things that loseth friends.
• * 1.144

  Euill nurture is hurtfull in all estates.
• * 1.145

  Where is mo∣ney, there is dispatch.
• * 1.146

  God doth ma∣ny times bring things to passe ra∣ther by the weake, thā by the strong.
• * 1.147

  Amongst .xij. sonnes, the yongest was most excellent.
• * 1.148

  To lacke friends is pe∣rillous. And some friends be te∣dious.
• * 1.149

  We ought ra∣ther to bewaile the life of the wicked, than the death of the iust.
• * 1.150

  A man is to be knowne, but not to be vnderstood.
• * 1.151

  The battell of Rauenna for euermore shall be renoumed.
• * 1.152

  Lesse in the warres, than many other thing we haue to beleue for∣tune.
• * 1.153

  With great e∣loquence the aucthor decla∣reth the na∣ture of for∣tune.
• * 1.154

  The words of a very friend, without dissi∣mulation.
• * 1.155

  Men do order warres, but God onely gi∣ueth victorie.
• * 1.156

  To one per∣son and one matter, for∣tune very sel∣dome sheweth fidelitie.
• * 1.157

  What he ou∣ght to do that hathe conti∣nued long in the warres.
• * 1.158

  There is no greater trauel than to be ig∣norant of qui∣etnesse.
• * 1.159

  Men oughte to trauell vn∣till they haue wherwith to defende neces∣sitie.
• * 1.160

  He is in some hatred with fortune, that is not suffred to repose in his owne house.
• * 1.161

  It is more to know how to enioy a victo∣ry than to o∣uercome a battell.
• * 1.162

  Our greatest trauels be of our owne see∣king.
• * 1.163

  Both wise∣dome and elo∣quēce in wri∣ting of a let∣ter bee disco∣uered.
• * 1.164

  In the courte men doe not, but vndoe.
• * 1.165

  In the courte ther are thin∣ges to be won¦dered, as also to be shunned
• * 1.166

  Newes of those dayes from Italy.
• * 1.167

  In Italy they win not so muche mo∣ney as they learne vice.
• * 1.168

  Eight condi∣tions of the courte, and all verie peril∣lous.
• * 1.169

  In the courte more despited than dispat∣ched.
• * 1.170

  Death giueth feare, but not amendment.
• * 1.171

  The plough∣man reuewing the straight∣nes of his fo∣rough, giueth note to the wise to examin their writings
• * 1.172

  A letter ought to be pleasant to reade, & di∣scret to be no∣ted.
• * 1.173

  God dothe more for vs in giuīg vs grace than to take away tempta∣tions.
• * 1.174

  God doth know what he giueth vs, but we know not what to craue.
• * 1.175

  To haue the occasion of sinne taken a∣waye, is no small benefite of God.
• * 1.176

  To be with∣out temptatiō is no good signe.
• * 1.177

  The deuil pro∣cureth great welfare vnto his dearlings.
• * 1.178

  Notable exam¦ples against such as do per¦secute.
• * 1.179

  Very great bee the priui∣leges of the vertuous.
• * 1.180

  He incurreth great perils that cōtendeth with the ver∣tuous.
• * 1.181

  The certaine before the doubtfull is to be preferted.
• * 1.182

  A Kintall is a hundreth waight.
• * 1.183

  It is better to be, than to seeme to bee vertuouse.
• * 1.184

  The conditiōs of a friends letter.
• * 1.185

  A text of scrip∣ture expoun∣ded.
• * 1.186

  Vertue & the vertues by ex∣ercise be con∣serued.
• * 1.187

  God hath more regarde vnto vs than we our selues.
• * 1.188

  Not the suf∣fring but the paciēce wher∣with we suf∣fer, God re∣gardeth.
• * 1.189

  The tēptation of the Deuill is limited.
• * 1.190

  It is lesse tra∣uel to serue God, than the world.
• * 1.191

  Good compa∣ny is more pleasant then great fare.
• * 1.192

  The old Ro∣manes were superstitious.
• * 1.193

  Places where the good wine of Spaine doth grow.
• * 1.194

  Terrible no∣tes for the rich nigard.
• * 1.195

  The deed do here leaue their moneye, and carie a∣waye theyr sinnes,
• * 1.196

  Horrible to liue poorely, to die in great wealth.
• * 1.197

  Strange cu∣stomes in a cōmon welth are perillous.
• * 1.198

  Notable cōdi∣ciōs of a good President.
• * 1.199

  The wordes of the eloquēt containe great efficacie.
• * 1.200

  A straunge example of an Orator.
• * 1.201

  A text of the Psalmist ex∣pounded.
• * 1.202

  It is lesse euill to enuie vs, thā to pitie vs
• * 1.203

  The causes of hatred of Iu∣lius Cesar, and Pompeius.
• * 1.204

  Enuie ben∣deth his artil∣lerie against prosperitie.
• * 1.205

  Behold the fraternitie of enuie.
• * 1.206

  Courtiers loose time.
• * 1.207

  Iniuries don by the almigh¦tie are to bee dissembled.
• * 1.208

  The trefull of al men and at all times ab∣horred.
• * 1.209

  In him that gouerneth, ire is perilious.
• * 1.210

  A notable ex∣ample to re∣••traine ire.
• * 1.211

  An example of the heathen to be noted and learned.
• * 1.212

  For the doubt of vice, libertie refused.
• * 1.213

  Libertie cra∣ueth wisdome.
• * 1.214

  Twelue cōdi∣ciōs of Rome, variyng from Christes law.
• * 1.215

  A condicion at be in braced.
• * 1.216

  A rewarde after death.
• * 1.217

  A darke Epi∣taph expoun∣ded.
• * 1.218

  He is depri∣ued of libertie, that discoue∣reth a secret.
• * 1.219

  It staineth a Gentleman to tell a lye.
• * 1.220

  Fiue Knigh∣tes throwne downe.
• * 1.221

  Sometimes some things vnfortunat.
• * 1.222

  To profite by sicknes decla∣reth great wisedome.
• * 1.223

  Priuileges & profites obtai∣ned by sicknes
• * 1.224

  Angers and excesse be no small enemies to health.
• * 1.225

  To manifest the secrets of Princes, is perillous.
• * 1.226

  An olde Epi∣taph.
• * 1.227

  Who dyd write the hi∣storie of the, Sibils.
• * 1.228

  The historie of the man and the Lion.
• * 1.229

  Great libera∣litie vsed in feastes.
• * 1.230

  Did acquain∣tance renued betwene a mā and a Lyon.
• * 1.231

  The Empe∣rour Titus talketh with a slaue.
• * 1.232

  A slaue and also noble was Andro∣nicus.
• * 1.233

  Auarice is cause of great infamie.
• * 1.234

  Foure sexter∣tios amounte to .iiij. d.
• * 1.235

  Where no∣blenesse dwel∣leth, no trea∣son haunteth.
• * 1.236

  An extreme distresse.
• * 1.237

  A passing toye.
• * 1.238

  Beastes doe feele benefits.
• * 1.239

  The Lyon feedeth his Chirurgian.
• * 1.240

  Absence ex∣tremely la∣mented.
• * 1.241

  The slaue cra¦ueth mercie.
• * 1.242

  The people of Rome make humble sup∣plication for the slaue.
• * 1.243

  Note the au∣thors of the historie.
• * 1.244

  Of what things they murmur in the Court.
• * 1.245

  Who be great murmurers.
• * 1.246

  The order of the noble or gentlemans house.
• * 1.247

  The sinne of Ingratitude before God is detestable.
• * 1.248

  Zorzales blackbirds.
• * 1.249

  He is not to be holden for noble that hath much, but that geueth much.
• * 1.250

  The poore do reuenge with teares.
• * 1.251

  To forget an iniurie, procee∣deth of singu∣lar wisedome.
• * 1.252

  Things that many desire but few obtain
• * 1.253

  Conditions of a good iu∣stice.
• * 1.254

  The conditi∣ons of Iud∣ges vsed to be chosē in Rome
• * 1.255

  The office of Iustice is to be giuen for merit, and not for affection.
• * 1.256

  Euill iudges do execute the purse, and not the person.
• * 1.257

  Iudges ou∣ght to dis∣patche with speed, and an∣swere with pacience.
• * 1.258

  Humanitie to all men of the mighty is to be vsed.
• * 1.259

  Of all men to be noted.
• * 1.260

  The womans armour is hir tongue.
• * 1.261

  True gentili∣tie pitieth the distressed.
• * 1.262

  Brothers children.
• * 1.263

  A speciall ad∣uenture.
• * 1.264

  The pretence of priuate pro∣fite, is voyde of all good counsell.
• * 1.265

  A notable measure.
• * 1.266

  A quent of Meruedis, whiche be .6. a penie, amoūt 2500. Du∣cates.
• * 1.267

  The harte of man is moste excellēt in his kynde.
• * 1.268

  Commēdable qualities.
• * 1.269

  A notable se∣cret in the yere climatik.
• * 1.270

  A perillous time for old men.
• * 1.271

  Notable con∣ditions of a noble man.
• * 1.272

  A lesson for Lords.
• * 1.273

  The expositiō of the text.
• * 1.274

  To be asha∣med of sinne, is hope of amēd∣ment.
• * 1.275

  No greter sin∣ner than he that presu∣meth to be good.
• * 1.276

  Oracles of old time.
• * 1.277

  Antigonus to be noted.
• * 1.278

  Gods grace doth only saue vs.
• * 1.279

  A benefit due to suche as serue princes.
• * 1.280

  Badges of Christ.
• * 1.281

  Withoute grace a soule is lyke a body without life.
• * 1.282

  To drinke of the one or of the other, great choyce is to be vsed.
• * 1.283

  Rules for old men.
• * 1.284

  Conuersation for old men.
• * 1.285

  The exercise of good old men.
• * 1.286

  The notes of good old men.
• * 1.287

  Necessary pro¦uision for olde men.
• * 1.288

  A diet for old men.
• * 1.289

  Temperance in old men prouoketh sleepe and a∣uoydeth belke.
• * 1.290

  A conclusion with rules, conuenient for old men.
• * 1.291

  A most cer∣taine remedie for loue.
• * 1.292

  A sodaine and strange spec∣tacle.
• * 1.293

  Note the elo∣quence of the Author.
• * 1.294

  The perfect condition of a friende.
• * 1.295

  Buried, being alyue.
• * 1.296

  A good praise to a Gentle∣man.
• * 1.297

  The wyse man weepeth not but for the losse of a frend
• * 1.298

  The honest care, not to liue long, but well.
• * 1.299

  Who is wor∣thie of prayse.
• * 1.300

  The friende vnto the frēd, neither hideth secret, nor de∣nieth money.
• * 1.301

  Not in your labour but in patience.

  Not the paine but the cause maketh the martir.
• * 1.302

  A poudred crane sent frō Asia to Rome
• * 1.303

  Plato offen∣ded with Di∣onisius for eating twice on the day.
• * 1.304

  Seuen nati∣ons inhabited Spaine.
• * 1.305

  The impor∣tunat and the foole are bro∣thers children
• * 1.306

  A notable ex∣ample of a pi∣tifull Prince.
• * 1.307

  An answer of Cato to As∣canius.
• * 1.308

  The good Iudge wre∣steth his con∣dition agreea∣ble to good lawes.
• * 1.309

  An example for men to be intreated of o∣ther men.
• * 1.310

  A sugred speach.
• * 1.311

  A commenda∣ble eloquence.
• * 1.312

  Notes of Iu∣lius Cesar, & of Alexander the great.
• * 1.313

  The order of the knights of the band in Spayne in time past.
• * 1.314

  A right no∣table rule.
• * 1.315

  A necessary rule for these our dayes.
• * 1.316

  A rule for mo¦destie of ap∣parell.
• * 1.317

  A rule for e∣rection of curtesie and good maner.
• * 1.318

  Rules for the obseruyng of peace.
• * 1.319

  Rules for the obseruing of peace.
• * 1.320

  Rules for the exercise of armes.
• * 1.321

  They should assaile each o∣ther.
• * 1.322

  The noble∣minde of the maker of this rule is to be noted.
• * 1.323

  Things to be noted.
• * 1.324

  A gracious confession of Cicero.
• * 1.325

  A notable ex∣ample to be im¦braced.
• * 1.326

  Hastie coun∣sell breedeth repentance.
• * 1.327

  Worthy to be admitted a counsellour.
• * 1.328

  Short newes from the court
• * 1.329

  The conditi∣ons of Italy.
• * 1.330

  A plaine ad∣uertisement.
• * 1.331

  Notable con∣ditions in a Iudge.
• * 1.332

  May descend but not fall.
• * 1.333

  Excellent gra∣ces in a iudge.
• * 1.334

  A friēdly per∣swasion.
• * 1.335

  Skilful elo∣quence.
• * 1.336

  Why y^e kings of Castile be called Catho∣liques.
• * 1.337

  The ouer-names of re∣noumed kings
• * 1.338

  The yere, the day, y^e month and hour that Spaine was lost.
• * 1.339

  Spaine lost in eight months, and hardly re∣couered in eight hundred yeares.
• * 1.340

  To the end cold in winter neither heate in somer shold hinder resi∣dents.
• * 1.341

  The first in∣uētiō of the ti∣tle Catholike.
• * 1.342

  Contrary sa∣lutations in respect of his birth and ma∣ners.
• * 1.343

  A sufficiente cause to forget olde acquain∣tance.
• * 1.344

  Assured notes of old acquain¦tance.
• * 1.345

  The issue of vnhonest loue.
• * 1.346

  The conditi∣ons of men apt for loue.
• * 1.347

  A louer in possession of threescore and three yeares.
• * 1.348

  A chief cause of courtizans loue.
• * 1.349

  The authors of remedies for loue, and the frute they reaped therof
• * 1.350

  The begin∣ners of qua∣rels do some∣tyme catche a wipe.
• * 1.351

  Contrarye congratulati∣ons in respect of his functiō and maners.
• * 1.352

  The lykely∣hode of a no∣table combat.
• * 1.353

  A lewde of∣fice for an old bishop.
• * 1.354

  Prelates for the bodie.
• * 1.355

  Doubtfull to be answered.
• * 1.356

  A Bishoppe vtterly voyde of a scrupu∣lous consci∣ence.
• * 1.357

  A bishop figh∣ting for a bi∣shoprike.
• * 1.358

  An Abbot fighting for a bishoprike.
• * 1.359

  The prelate lost his Cate∣lina.
• * 1.360

  A tinage is an earthen can vsed in Spain of no litle syse to holde their wine.
• * 1.361

  Repugnancie in respect of estate and maners.
• * 1.362

  The conditiō of tyrants.
• * 1.363

  The office of a Bishop.
• * 1.364

  A Bishop practiseth his houshold not to pray but to skirmish.
• * 1.365

  Armour vsed to wrong pur∣pose.
• * 1.366

  A wrong meane to ob∣tayne fame.
• * 1.367

  A sclaunde∣rous frater∣nitie.
• * 1.368

  Difficult to content.
• * 1.369

  Vaine promi∣ses.
• * 1.370

  A quent of Maruedis which be 6. for a penny. amount. 2500 Dukats.
• * 1.371

  Repugnancie of speech in respect of no∣ble bloud, and want of iudge∣ment.
• * 1.372

  A friuolous deuise.
• * 1.373

  Notable qua∣lities euill imployed.
• * 1.374

  In rebellon vse to pardon the poore, and to behead the Captaines.
• * 1.375

  Perswasions of a perfect friend.
• * 1.376

  An eloquence rarely vsed.
• * 1.377

  Rebelles of Spayne.
• * 1.378

  Euill guydes not to be fol∣lowed.
• * 1.379

  An eloquent persuasion.
• * 1.380

  The wordes of a very frende.
• * 1.381

  Repugnancie in speeche, in respect of birth and ma∣ners.
• * 1.382

  A famous speache of an heathen prince
• * 1.383

  A magnificēt answere of a pagan king.
• * 1.384

  An exceeding humanitie of a generall to a poore souldior
• * 1.385

  An excellente counsell to make enimies tender, and to conserue frendes.
• * 1.386

  The coue∣tous man de∣fendeth his goodes from himselfe.
• * 1.387

  The liberall and noble min¦ded, is Lorde of his neigh∣bour.
• * 1.388

  The vile con∣ditions of the couetous.
• * 1.389

  Slaues to their owne goodes.
• * 1.390

  Wāting that which he pos∣sesseth.
• * 1.391

  Two kayes to his cofer, but two C. in his hart.
• * 1.392

  The whole life of the nig∣gard is spent in penance.
• * 1.393

  The fruites of couetous∣nesse.
• * 1.394

  Notable con∣ditions of the captain Nar∣setes.
• * 1.395

  I cruell com∣mandement.
• * 1.396

  A sharpe an∣swere.
• * 1.397

  His penne is constrained to make combat
• * 1.398

  Loyaltie and treason fight not with wor∣des, but with swordes.
• * 1.399

  Famouse women.
• * 1.400

  Vngodly sciences.
• * 1.401

  A religiu•• theft.
• * 1.402

  An eloquent perswasion.
• * 1.403

  The auhors of Rebellion.
• * 1.404

  Hard shiftes.
• * 1.405

  An vntoward change.
• * 1.406

  A miserable state.
• * 1.407

  A wrong de∣uise to main∣taine a com∣mon wealth.
• * 1.408

  Mischiefe for a medicine.
• * 1.409

  Large offers.
• * 1.410

  Pithyly per∣swaded.
• * 1.411

  A sharp re∣prehension.
• * 1.412

  A friendly aduise.
• * 1.413

  Cruell pray∣ers.
• * 1.414

  The authors of Phisicke.
• * 1.415

  A tale tolde in iest, beleued in earnest.
• * 1.416

  Great trauai∣les that phy∣sik hath past.
• * 1.417

  Phisick hath wandred ma∣ny countreys
• * 1.418

  Phisicke vt∣terly decayed the space four hūdred yeres
• * 1.419

  Rules to be noted.
• * 1.420

  The place whereas I∣pochras was borne, and o∣ther famous men.
• * 1.421

  The diligence of Ipochras.
• * 1.422

  Phisitions banished out of all Greece.
• * 1.423

  Another hun¦dred yeares phisick bani∣shed out of Greece.
• * 1.424

  An exceeding reward.
• * 1.425

  The first phi∣sition that cu∣red for mony.
• * 1.426

  Phisick ba∣nisht another C. yeares.
• * 1.427

  In foure hū∣dreth yeares, Rome reser∣ued no Phi∣sitions.
• * 1.428

  Nero brought from Greece vices and phisitiōs.
• * 1.429

  Phisitions banished by Titus the Emperour.
• * 1.430

  Cato an e∣nemy of Phisitions.
• * 1.431

  Nota
• * 1.432

  The causes of praise of phi∣sicke.
• * 1.433

  The rule and Lordship of the Phisition
• * 1.434

  A law amōgst the Gothes.
• * 1.435

  A sentence of Ipochras.
• * 1.436

  The Empe∣rour Adrians opinion of Phisitions.
• * 1.437

  A notable re∣ward in the place of pu∣nishment.
• * 1.438

  Valiant phi∣sitions.
• * 1.439

  The authors opinion of Phisicke.
• * 1.440

  Anciēt lawes for the maried
• * 1.441

  The conditi∣ons of the ha∣pily maried.
• * 1.442

  A note for the maried.
• * 1.443

  A graue sen∣tence of Pla∣to.
• * 1.444

  The trauels of the maried man.
• * 1.445

  Equalitie be∣twixt the ma∣ried very ne∣cessary.
• * 1.446

  Housholde enimies.
• * 1.447

  A caueat for Parents.
• * 1.448

  A knitting of harts before striking of handes.
• * 1.449

  Loue com∣eth rūning, and retorneth flying
• * 1.450

  In old tyme the fathers blessing pre∣ferred before hope of inhe∣ritance.
• * 1.451

  Want of shamefastnes in womē most hurtfull.
• * 1.452

  The safetie of womens re∣putation.
• * 1.453

  The cause of domesticall Combatts.
• * 1.454

  Suspition no small enimy to womens liues.
• * 1.455

  The honoure of the husbād dependeth on the wife.
• * 1.456

  A notorious example of a Greeke.
• * 1.457

  A furio•…•… woman is compared to the hill Ethna.
• * 1.458

  An euill kind a measuring.
• * 1.459

  Malice finds many faultes.
• * 1.460

  Commodities following a pacient wife.
• * 1.461

  The dwelling rather of foles than friends.
• * 1.462

  A time for the husbande to seeke hys wittes.
• * 1.463

  Forget not to make choyce to harboure such guests.
• * 1.464

  Causes ra∣ther of pitie than of enuy.
• * 1.465

  To be noted.
• * 1.466

  Good counsel.
• * 1.467

  Aduertise∣ments worth the folowing.
• * 1.468

  To be cōside∣red.
• * 1.469

  An euill ma∣ner of cōferēce
• * 1.470

  The wiues complaynt.
• * 1.471

  Froward out of measure.
• * 1.472

  A counsell to be imbraced.
• * 1.473

  The office of the husband and of the wife.
• * 1.474

  Rather trot∣ting than spinning.
• * 1.475

  Causes of spitefull pati∣ence.
• * 1.476

  No small of∣fence to God.
• * 1.477

  The wife and sword must not be lent.
• * 1.478

  A foolish fa∣shion to take vp dust.
• * 1.479

  Necessary ex∣ercises for the maried wife.
• * 1.480

  Idlenesse and chastitie are greate∣nimies.
• * 1.481

  The workes of an hus∣wife.
• * 1.482

  A friendly warning to al mothers.
• * 1.483

  A Mareuedy is the sixt part of a pe∣ny.
• * 1.484

  The originall of the Turks
• * 1.485

  The first Sa¦racyns.

  This Mahomet was borne in A∣rabia, issued of the line of Is∣maell and of a base place: he being an Or∣phant was sold to a great Mar∣chant, his ma∣ster dyed, he married his wy∣dow, he was in∣structed in false doctrine by a Moonke named Sergius a fugi∣tiue from Con∣stantinople, he afterwards cha∣lenged and the people attribu∣ted certaine de∣uine veneration vnto him, whych the vnlearned Barbarians were prompt to be∣leeue, so as whē by force of the falling sicknesse he fel, he feyned to the people that he could not endure the brightnesse of the Angell Ga∣briell, whome he affirmed to celebrate with him the secrets of the highest, with many suche abhominable errours, and such like abuses he a∣bused the peo∣ple.
• * 1.486

  Othoman.
• * 1.487

  Orchanees.
• * 1.488

  Amurathes.
• * 1.489

  Solyman and Baiazeth.
• * 1.490

  Mahomet sonne to A∣murathes.
• * 1.491

  Mahomet first of y^e race of Othomās, that tooke on him the name of Greate Turke and Emperor.
• * 1.492

  To this Bai∣azeth succeded Selim, which poysoned his father, bicause he liued ouer∣long, and to Selim succe∣ded Soliman which wanne Belgra, Hū∣garia, Buda, and Rhodes.
• * 1.493

  Semiramis Queene of Babylon set this Epitaph vp in y^e name of hir husbād Ninus.
• * 1.494

  The Epitaph of Cata Mā∣lia that was buried liuing.
• * 1.495

  The Epitaph of Athaol∣phus king of the Gothes.
• * 1.496

  The deflou∣ring of a mai∣dē, was cause of the ruine of Spaine, or rather the he∣resie of Arius wherewith they were in∣fected, was cause of that punishment.
• * 1.497

  The deflou∣ring of a mai∣dē, was cause of the ruine of Spayne, or rather the he∣resie of Arius wherewith they were in∣fected, was cause of that punishment.
• * 1.498

  The Moores being Lordes of all Spaine except Biscay & the Moun∣taines, which is Astiria & Cantabria, diuided it into kingdomes, as Cordubia, Carthage, & suche like.
• * 1.499

  A necessarie consideration betwixt will and necessitie.
• * 1.500

  A harde com∣fort.
• * 1.501

  An accompte to be made, not what wee liue, but howe we liue.
• * 1.502

  A counsell of Horace the Poet.
• * 1.503

  Errors of mans life.
• * 1.504

  A superflu∣ous care.
• * 1.505

  A sound coū∣sell.
• * 1.506

  A smal boast of Anchises.
• * 1.507

  S〈…〉〈…〉 of 〈…〉〈…〉 thi〈…〉〈…〉
• * 1.508

  Th〈…〉〈…〉 me〈…〉〈…〉 thei〈…〉〈…〉 An〈…〉〈…〉 eni〈…〉〈…〉 ceas〈…〉〈…〉 amō〈…〉〈…〉
• * 1.509

  A straunge Sepulture.
• * 1.510

  A violence without all reason.
• * 1.511

  An art most barbarous.
• * 1.512

  An vse of the Chibirins most inhu∣mayne.
• * 1.513

  The foure notable Se∣pultures in Rome.
• * 1.514

  A commenda∣ble manner of drunkennesse.
• * 1.515

  An amplifica∣tion vpon a small cause.
• * 1.516

  An exposition of the .25. cha∣piter of Exo∣dus.
• * 1.517

  A necessary maner to ex∣pounde the Scriptures.
• * 1.518

  A description of the Taber∣nacle.
• * 1.519

  A question.
• * 1.520

  An imperfe∣ction of all estates.
• * 1.521

  A note for the Pope and pa∣pistes.
• * 1.522

  An example not to be for∣gotten.
• * 1.523

  No smal part of iustificatiō, to confesse our sinnes.

  And yet vn∣perfect with∣out correctiō.
• * 1.524

  Contempt of amendement yeldeth vtter confusion.
• * 1.525

  A chaunge of fashion.
• * 1.526

  The vnder∣stāding of the snuffers of most pure and fine golde.
• * 1.527

  The snuffers of leade or y∣ron to bee no∣ted.
• * 1.528

  Notable qua∣lities of a magistrate.
• * 1.529

  A notable ex∣ample of king Dauid.
• * 1.530

  To be incom∣mended to the memory of Princes.
• * 1.531

  A note for Iudges.
• * 1.532

  An excellent expo••••tion.
• * 1.533

  An example to be imbraced
• * 1.534

  For that God pardoneth sin∣ners, it is con∣uenient that sinners do pardon eche other.
• * 1.535

  To rowe a∣gaynste the streame, and fishe agaynste the winde.
• * 1.536

  The notes of Vertue.
• * 1.537

  The garmēts wherewith a foole is clad.
• * 1.538

  An extreme excesse cōmit∣ted of Christ.
• * 1.539

  Thirste ceas∣seth not to cō∣mit excesse.
• * 1.540

  Loue of effect more than of affection.
• * 1.541

  Wante of po∣wer, but not of will is ac∣cepted.
• * 1.542

  Loue hath his maintenance by good wor∣kes.
• * 1.543

  Weake cau∣ses to obtayne the loue of God.
• * 1.544

  Agaynst the heare of mun∣daine loue.
• * 1.545

  A diuine loue not vsed a∣mong men.
• * 1.546

  A most soue∣raine & vnre∣mouable loue.
• * 1.547

  Christ exten∣ded an ardent loue vnto vs, before we had being.
• * 1.548

  A great cause of hope.
• * 1.549

  A loue neuer hard of.
• * 1.550

  An euerla∣sting loue.
• * 1.551

  The manner and frute of life in the Court of Spayne.
• * 1.552

  The commo∣dities of the Court of Spayne.
• * 1.553

  A good rule for a Byshop
• * 1.554

  A matter without re∣mission.
• * 1.555

  The Gadi∣tains be those of Caliz.
• * 1.556

  A possession and a secret commission to be noted.
• * 1.557

  A description of the situa∣tion of Car∣thage.
• * 1.558

  A most vnfor¦tunate report of a neighbor.
• * 1.559

  A duble fute of a vertuous Lady.
• * 1.560

  An answer of a noble & ver∣tuous minde.
• * 1.561

  A chiefe point of Ladies of chast renowne
• * 1.562

  A spectacle for yong Cap¦taynes.
• * 1.563

  Scipio of singular con∣tinencie.
• * 1.564

  A rendred raunsome gi∣uen to the mariage of an enemie.
• * 1.565

  A recompence for curtesie receyued.
• * 1.566

  Newes.
• * 1.567

  To be obsti∣nate and opi∣niatiue ex∣presseth eni∣mitie to the troth.
• * 1.568

  The wise is knowen by the manner, & modestie of his talke.
• * 1.569

  The Inis dispute with their fists.
• * 1.570

  Psalme. 63.
• * 1.571

  King Dauid did Prophe∣sie the errours and false in∣terpretation of the Inis.
• * 1.572

  The Gētiles be excused of false inter∣pretation of the scripture.
• * 1.573

  The Turks, Moores, and Sarasins, were not a∣cused by the prophesy of King Dauid, to be false in∣terpreters. The Chri∣stians be de∣fended of false interpretation of the Scrip∣tures.
• * 1.574

  A manifest proofe that the Prophet only chargeth the Iewes of false interpre∣tation.
• * 1.575

  Ieremy. 31.
• * 1.576

  A comfort vn¦to Christians
• * 1.577

  The weale of the Christian is faith.
• * 1.578

  Many be sa∣ued without reading, but not one person without be∣leeuing.
• * 1.579

  Loue is the law of Chri∣stians.
• * 1.580

  Chapter .49.
• * 1.581

  A report as true, as mise∣rable.
• * 1.582

  An heauy de∣stenie.
• * 1.583

  Nothing left but lies.
• * 1.584

  Nothing left but dregs.
• * 1.585

  Nothing but lies.
• * 1.586

  Nothing but dregges.
• * 1.587

  Nothing but lyes.
• * 1.588

  The begin∣ning and en∣ding of the Hebrew tong described.
• * 1.589

  The Iewes lost both the forme of their life, and the maner of their speeche.
• * 1.590

  A maruelous desolation.
• * 1.591

  How, where, when, and by whom, the scriptures were falsifyed
• * 1.592

  Aliama a troup or com∣pany.
• * 1.593

  A prohibitiō amongst the Iewes to reade the scriptures.
• * 1.594

  The Iewes doctors alea∣ged.
• * 1.595

  A most wic∣ked exchange.
• * 1.596

  The apostles accused by the Iewes, and defended by Christ.
• * 1.597

  A cause of er∣ror in the scripture.
• * 1.598

  Cōgregatiōs or Common wealthes.
• * 1.599

  The three cursed sectes, Asees, Sa∣duces, and Pharises.
• * 1.600

  The auctor knoweth the secretes of the Iewes.
• * 1.601

  The Iewes began to con∣uert Christi∣ans.
• * 1.602

  The Iewes cōdemne and dury y^e trāsla∣tion of Abe∣miziel, doub∣ting the con∣uersion of the Iewes to Christ.
• * 1.603

  The firste traslatiō after y^e incarnation of Christ.
• * 1.604

  The seconde translation.
• * 1.605

  The thirde translation.
• * 1.606

  The fourth translation al∣lowed in the Christian Churche.
• * 1.607

  A fifth trāsla∣tiō by Origen after Christ.
• * 1.608

  One of the great & mani∣fest causes of the false be∣leefe of the Iewes.
• * 1.609

  A Cruell sug∣gestion of the Diuell.
• * 1.610

  Vanities af∣firmed by the Iewishe do∣ctors.
• * 1.611

  This prophe∣cie of Dauid verified vpon the Iewes.
• * 1.612

  This prophe∣cie of Esay verified vpon the Christi∣ans.
• * 1.613

  Psal. 2.
• * 1.614

  Psal. 30. Psal. 119. Psal. 20.