The troubled mans medicine verye profitable to be redde of al men wherein they may learne pacyently to suffer all kyndes of aduersitie made [and] wrytten by wyllyam Hughe to a frende of his.

¶To the ryght Worshyp¦full and his singular good lad•• and may stres lady Deny. hyrhumble feruaunte wyllyam hughe, wysshethe health.

YF that happi•••• (right worshyp¦full and my s•••• gular good ••••-dy) may happ•••• to the estate, a•••• condition of seruauntes, amo•••• the happiest of them, I maye ••••∣stly and worthyly place my self•••• whose happe it was to chau•••• on so worshypfull, so gentle or••••∣ther gentlenes it self) so benig•••• and vertuous a maistres: wh•••• syngulare vertues yf I shuld 〈◊〉〈◊〉 about to erpresse or number, as 〈◊〉〈◊〉

shuld lyghtly find of myne oratiō a begynnyng, so I shulde hardly fynde an ende. But I knowynge your nature (in this pointe more than womanlike to be delyted in nothingtleste, than in hearinge pour owne prayses, haue appoyn ted to set them out (notwithstan∣dynge that wryters, in theyr epi∣stles deditatory for the most part be moche in commendynge those, vnto whome they dedicate their ••okes as Timas the painter did the mourninge countenaunce of Agamemnon kynge of Grece. Timas the noble painter at such tyme as Ephigenia doughter of the said kyng, was kylled and sacrificed to Diana (for otherwise the false goddes wolde not be pla¦cate, nor at one with the grekes, which hath offeded hir not longe before) was sende for to describe

euery parte of that heup and la∣mentable tragedy, euen as it was done, at the last whan he came to the descriptione of Agamemnon his face, it was so sorowfull, sad, and mooreninglyke, that with all the cunninge he hadde, he coulde not in payntynge represente the same. Therfore he courtinge the sace of the image with a vele, left the sorowfulnes of it to the ima∣gination of men. Lykewise I for as moche as I can not, and more ouer for that I dare not (leste I shulde incurre your anger) plain lye speake of the good thinges, that god, nature, and fortune haue plenteously powerd vpon you: I wyll couer them with the vele of silence, and leaue them to the iudgemente of those that knowe you. Specially conside∣ringe them not to be so obscure,

that they neade my grosse & vnlet ned stile to make them more no∣table or better knowen: for what nede is it to hange a garlande of grene yuie at the tauernes doore, where the wyne is good, holesome, and vendtble? I shalbe wel content that other men praise the fourme, obedience, fruytful∣nes, faithfulnes, hastitie, benig∣nite, facilitie, cumlynes, and pi∣tye to wardes the pore (declaring them selues therin to be rethori∣tions) of their maistrices whan these theyr vertues be not open∣tye knowen, ne commended of manye. As for me as I shuld ••aue no thanke for my laboure ••n the ertollynge of yours, so I shoulde seme to playe his parte whiche endeuourethe to gyue ••yght to the sonne, or rather that ••angethe some blacke thynge

betwy••t it and the eyes of men darkennethe his lyght. where∣fore I purpose not (thoughe I shall seme therfore in this epistle, scantly to perfourme my duety) to prayse or auaunce your lady∣shype at all. Unles it be onely in assirmtng that your ladyshyppe is a wyfe not vnworthye of hy•••• whom god the maker of al honest mariages, hathe gyuen you for youre husoande. What commen dation is cōprised herein, iudge they that knowe the goodly and gooly qualities, the auctoritie, & wyscdome: the vertues, and sin∣gulare giftes, whyche god hath moued hym with all. Not wyth∣standynge doutles that I in this behalfe can scarsely withdrawe or restraine my pen, remembring that I haue founde youre lady∣shyppe (and that for the loue and

good mynde whiche you here to∣ward good letters not in words but in dedes, not in one or. ii. thin¦ges, but in many most benificial: and to say the truth, a mother in dede rather than a maystris.

Wherfore I haue thought it my part by some meane to shewe an argument of my honest harte to∣warde you. And for as moche as I coulde not do it otherwise, I was bolde to dedicate this lytle boke vnto your gentlenes: whi∣che boke for that purpose I haue written that men might learne to dye patiently, to leue the worlde willyngly, and to go vnto christe gladly. Howe necessarye suche a thynge is to be had amonge the people (albeit I wolde wishe that one or other shulde take the mat∣ter in hande, that can handel it more wyttely and learnedly than

I hane here done) they whiche haue bene at the poynte of death, or they that haue serchede the consciences of men, beinge about to dye, can best expresse. The de∣uyll doutes, whiche at all tymes is busied, and erneslly occupied, in sekyng the destruccion of mās soule, in the day of death sheweth his diligence moost: no we bring∣gynge a man in loue with the worlde and his commodities, prouokynge hym to hate deathe, and to resist as muche as lieth in him) the wyll of god, nowe lea∣dynge hym to vispayre, to the mi∣strust of gods promisses, and im∣patiencie. Is it not nedefull than to haue somthynge wrytten and redy, specially among the vuleat ned, wherby they may learne to despice deathe, to contemne the morlde, to obey the wyll of god,

wherhy they may be reduced frō murmuryng to patience, frome ••ispayre and mystrust to a fyrme and constant faith, in the promi∣ses of god? Whether this booke shall perfourme so moche or no I can not tell. yet thus moche I ••are say, that he whiche hearethe or redeth it with a mynd and put pose to learne the saide thinges, shall not vtterly lese his labout. Cato vticensis readyng ouer the booke of Plato called Phedone, a lytle before he kylled him selfe, ••therwith sufficiently instructed that ysoule of mā was unmortal, ••esptced death and dyed very wyl ••yngly. Moche more a christyane oratione (although it haue not so moche as a shadowe of the elo∣quence or grauitie of Plate his boke) groūded in holy scriptures and smellynge of holesome and

heuenly doctrine, shuld perswad•• the christen man quietly, & glad∣ly to dye. The occasion why I write this boke declamation wi•••• is this. It happened me not long ago to visite my frynde, lyeng o•••• his deathe bedde, whom after my poore wytte and learnyng, I ex∣hyrted to dye christianlye. Dis frendes that than were presente, in a whyle after instantly requi∣red me to write the same exhorta∣tione, euen so as I pronounced it vnto the sycke. Declaring that so it shuld most moue the reders, hearers, & such as shuld nede like consolatione. I thinking no lesse with my selfe was content herein to satisfye their requestes. The thynge written I determyned to gyue to your ladyshyppe, not for that I thoughte so sclender and simple a thinge worthy of youre

worshyppe: but that I myght as I saide before she we some argu∣ment of a thankfull mynde.

This I beseche your ladyshyp, howe so euer it be, take in good worthe, not lokyng so much to the paruitie of the gyfte, as vnto the mynde of the gyuer therof. Thus fare your ladyshyppe well. At the courte.