Phisicke against fortune, aswell prosperous, as aduerse conteyned in two bookes. Whereby men are instructed, with lyke indifferencie to remedie theyr affections, aswell in tyme of the bryght shynyng sunne of prosperitie, as also of the foule lowryng stormes of aduersitie. Expedient for all men, but most necessary for such as be subiect to any notable insult of eyther extremitie. Written in Latine by Frauncis Petrarch, a most famous poet, and oratour. And now first Englished by Thomas Twyne.

Of sundry paynes and greefes of the whole body. The .cxiiii. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Am greeued in al partes of my body.

Reason.

If thy minde, whiche is the gheast of the body, be not greeued nor troubled, it is wel: whatsoeuer hapneth vnto the poore cottage thereof, shal redownde (I hope) vnto the safetie of it.

Sorowe.

I am vexed in al my body, whiche is a greeuous payne.

Reason.

The Stoikes say, that among al humane thynges, only vertue is good. And although others be of another opinion, yet this is the more true and manly, as seemeth vnto me, and many moe: whereof it foloweth, that whatsoeuer is contrarie hereunto, is a vice: whereby it commeth to passe, that although the payne of the body be most greeuous, yet it is not euyll.

Sorow.

Alas poore wretch how I am tormented, and thou disputest, and al are but philosophical fables.

Reason.

Thou shewest thy selfe to be a wretche, if it were but in this poynt only, for that thou callest the rules of mans lyfe, fables.

Sorow.

These thynges are plausible in the schooles, and famous in bookes, but they are not able to enter into the racke, or to clymbe vp into the beddes of the sicke, they be spoken and wrytten, more easily then practised.

Reason.

Yes truely, they be profitable agaynst payne, and sick∣nesse, and death, but not vnto al, for that they cannot sinke into all mens mindes, and truely vnto those that wyl geue no credite to them, they can do no pleasure.

Sorowe.

Alas I am tormen∣ted, and thou disputest.

Reason.

This thy sorow must needes be long, or vehement, and therfore requireth eyther easie, or short pacience.

Sorowe.

Alas, alas, I am cruelly vexed.

Reason.

If thy payne be extreame, then must it needes be short, and ther∣fore lament no more, for it must needes eyther goe away from thee, or set thee packing: set thy doores wyde open for eyther ly∣bertie, and remember in the meane whyle that it is a valiant and manly thing to beare humane chaunces with indifferencie.

Sorowe.

It is a goodly matter, I graunt, in woordes to speake it, but truely I thinke to do it, impossible.

Reason.

It is not

the impossibilitie of the thynges, but the dayntinesse of men that causeth innumerable to forsake vertue, and wyl cause many here∣after, whyles euery harde thing is refused as impossible. Thus vertue perysheth, whose subiect is a certayne difficultie, but that whiche is honest.

Sorow.

We be men, and no goddes, and poore dying bodyes are not able to abyde the force of payne.

Reason.

That mens bodyes are frayle I cannot deny, but yet not so frayle but that they haue strength enough to beare al aduer∣sitie, were it not that the infirmitie of your myndes were muche greater. This is it whiche forceth out of men vnseemely hou∣lynges, and womanish and effeminate voyces: For (I pray thee) why shouldest thou thinke that impossible for a man, to doo, whiche thou seest that in olde tymes men coulde doo, and dyd also?

Sorowe.

Alas, I am nowe called away agaynt vn∣to hystories, and in the very middest of the paynes of my greefe, beyng scarse myndeful of my selfe, I am reuoked vnto the re∣membrance of auncient examples.

Reason.

Doth not then the remembrance of most excellent men, who valiantly susteyned the lyke, bryng great ease and comfort in al aduersitie?

Sorow.

I know it wel, but thou canst alleage vnto me but fewe whom I may imitate: thy aduise is glorious, but to high for man, and aboue his capacitie.

Reason.

Why sayest thou aboue mans capacitie? Seeing they are not the reasons and exam∣ples of goddes, but of men, which I lay before thee.

Sorow.

Of men in deede I graunt, mary but of fewe, whose rarenesse is such, as almost they are none at al: and I can see but smal difference betweene the Phenix and Chimera: but I folowe them whiche say that Chimera is nothyng, for among some it is an hyl in Si∣cil.

Reason.

As though that the Phenix were layde before thee to immitate, and not almost an whole armie of men, who the rarer they be founde, so muche the more woorthy they are, whom thou shouldest couet to be lyke: whosoeuer neglecteth to folowe rare men, shal neuer be rare man hym selfe.

Sorow.

I per∣ceiue how thou wouldest haue me be one of a fewe, but I am one of many.

Reason.

I had rather almost that thou were no body, then to be one of many: I cannot determine whether it were better not to be at al, then to be a foole: for to be one of the

greatest number, and to be a foole, is al one.

Sorow.

I knowe that there is nothyng woorse, then not to be at al.

Reason.

Thou knowest not howe yll it is to be somewhat, nor to be what thou oughtest to be.

Sorowe.

Thou speakest this, although that must needes happen to al, which by chaunce befalleth vnto one, which thou wouldest haue to be applyed vnto al.

Reason.

Thou say∣est yll, to happen, for veriue commeth not by happe, but altogea∣ther by deliberation and election, and is gotten, not by chaunce, but by studie. Neyther do I drawe that vnto al which chaunce hath geuen vnto fewe, but that whiche vertue hath geuen to ma∣ny do I drawe vnto one, being wylling to drawe it to all, but I am weeried euen in one.

Sorowe.

But al men cannot doo all thinges.

Reason.

That this is not only a poetical, but also a shepheardly speech, I knowe very wel: but I woulde that thou shouldest haue a power or a wyl to do that whiche al cannot do, whiche nowe thou canst, and I desyre that thou wouldest haue a wyl to doo it.

Sorowe.

Alas, why doest thou disquiet me poore wretch, is it not sufficient that I am vexed with payne?

Reason.

I goe about rather to procure thy quyetnesse, & to take away this torment from thee, which I shalbe neuer able to do alone, vnlesse thou set to thine helping hande.

Sorowe.

Phy, phy, what is that which thou sayest that I am able to doo? Can I otherwyse choose then feele the payne whiche I feele? or deny that to be euyl, which in deede I fynd to be very yll?

Reason.

The first I wyl not re∣quyre at thy handes, for nature gaynesayeth it: the second, that I may not obteyne, it is not nature, nor trueth, but onely errour y^t withstandeth.

Sorowe.

Out alas, to what purpose serue these foolyshe discourses which you cal philosophical? I know certaine∣ly, that payne is no infirmitie of the mind, but of the body: I knowe that paine is anotheer thing from falshood: to be in paine one thyng & to steale another: these thinges, y^t thou maiest teathe me no new matter, yea though thou adde nothing vnto them, are of thē selues I know a great euil, & also that paine is of it selfe euil, I know wel enough: y^e meanes & way how to know which thing to be so, I do not want, but rather how to suffer, or most of al to driue it away. For I know very wel, & I woulde I knewe not so much, what payne is.

Reason.

And I know also that payne is a

bitter thing, cruel, horrible, sower, sharpe, contrarie to nature, odious to the senses, but whiche notwithstandyng may not onely be made sweete by the assistance of vertue, as Epicurus sayde, dis∣sendyng from hym selfe, but also be lenified and rebated, and also the greater vehemencie thereof, if the minde be armed with true vertue, eyther be fealt more tollerably, or in a manner not be fealt at al.

Sorowe.

Armed or vnarmed, I sustayne most cruell payne, and professe that it is a very euyl thyng.

Reason.

I woulde wyshe rather to heare some other profession of thee.

Sorow.

If we be agayne called backe vnto plausible and fayre thynges, magnifical woordes do delyte the eares, but true spee∣ches the mynde: and what yf the bodily greefe be greater then the pacience of the minde?

Reason.

What yf there be no delites nor greefes of the body, nor afflictions whatsoeuer ouerth wharting, that are comparable to the strength of the minde? What yf in all conflictes, yf so be that it wyllingly gaue not ouer, but with al force and vnfeinedly resisted the aduersarie, it alwayes had the vpper hande, and departed the conquerour?

Sorow.

What yf it happen, that vnto the intollerablenesse of the payne, there ve ad∣ded some farther greefe, as filthinesse, loathsomenesse, and shame of the disease? What yf the foule leprosie haue inuaded the cor∣rupt and wretched carckase? In this case what wyl thy talke a∣uayle me?

Reason.

Very muche truely, yf thou reiect it not, for it wyl discouer thee vnto thy selfe, who seing al thynges, yet seest not thy selfe: It wyl also cause thee to remember y^t this thy poore carckase is made of the earth, & so mortal, not ayreal and eternal. Neither oughtest thou to maruayle, or take in yll part, yf corrup∣tion enter vpon her owne earth, and the substance of man depart vnto it owne natural place, yf also the minde, and most excellent matter whereof man consisteth, vnlesse they rebell, be disposed and directed vnto felicitie is and euerlastyng perpetuitie, and the viler substance subiect to death, and capable of al kinde of miserie. Therefore, whether it be the leprosse, or falling sickenesse, or what∣soeuer can happen more loathsome or greeuous then any of these, thou must thinke assuredly, that there is no more fallen vpon this vessel of miserie, then that whiche the potter that made it, ap∣poynted vnto it from the begynnyng, agaynst whom the vessels

of Clay are warned not to murmur, although he haue made some of them to honour, and some to dishonour, but all frayle and mor∣tall.

Sorowe.

Shall I then, by thyne aduice, beare this lea∣prosie without murmur or complaint?

Reason.

Yea truely, by myne aduice and counsell: to whom yf thou canst proue, that thy murmur and complaintes doo any whyt profite thee, or asswage thy greefe, then wyll I change myne opinion, and suffer thee, or rather exhort thee to doo them both. But yf repinyng and complaintes be nothyng els, but an encreasing of the mischiefe, what shall it auayle thee to heape the sicknesse of the minde, vpon the infirmitie of the bodye, and by lamentyng to make thy selfe more miserable, and hym more sharpe agaynst thee, who behol∣deth the trauelles of men from an hygh, and consydereth theyr patience to requite it with remedie or rewarde? Is it a small com∣fort agaynst all plagues and afflictions of the bodye, or because thou bewaylest this one by name, agaynst this also, to knowe that the leprosie is an infirmitie of the skinne and colour, not of the good estate or integritie of the senses and limmes, as we knowe S. Augustine holdeth opinion, and naturall Philosophers doo not gaynesay. But admit that it pearce the skinne, and tearyng the fleshe, enter into the verie intrailes, as we read it dyd vnto Plotinus the great Platonike? Truely into the soule it can not enter, vnlesse it selfe consent thereto, whiche beyng in good health, it wyll no more regarde the outwarde shape and looke of the bo∣dye, then wyll a sounde and healthfull ghest be mooued, to see the outwarde walles of his Inne where he lodgeth, to pyll and be rough, by reason of winde and weather. Yea, moreouer, the leprosie taketh hym that is infected therewith, from among the common people, and continuall conuersation with suche men, whose companie to auoyde, they ought to refuse no paynes what∣soeuer, nor to craue ayde therevnto of any whosoeuer: but to be short, in brynging the bodye into great lothsomnesse, it delyue∣reth the minde of as muche altogether.

Sorowe.

Alas, howe shoulde I beleeue one that prayseth the vilest thinges?

Reason.

They are not the diseases of the bodye, but the vices of the minde, whiche are the vilest thynges: neyther doo I therefore prayse the leprosie, because I commende equanimitie and patience:

and I exhort thee also, not to take in so yll part and so lamen∣tably thy priuate hap in humane affayres, seeyng that it is com∣mon vnto thee, with the mightie Emperour and great Philo∣sopher Constantinus, and Plotinus, of whom we talked ere∣while. And last of all, it is conuenient for thee to lay before thyne eyes, howe that the Lorde hateth not the Leprosie, but sinne, yea the very same Lorde that is Iudge both of men and angelles, of whom it is written: The euyll dooer shall not dwell neere vnto thee, nor the vnrighteous stande before thyne eyes: Yet dyd be not neuerthelesse abhorre, nor flee from the Leprous, but frequented their houses, and kept companie with them at feastes and ban∣queties.

Sorowe.

Thou ouercommest me with woordes, and payne in deedes, wherein I geue no credite vnto the triflyng of Philosophers, but to mine owne senses, and what they tell me I knowe wel enough.

Reason.

Fyrst, the grauitie of the whole bodye of Philosophie is not ouerthrowen, in respect of the tri∣flinges, as thou truely tearmest them, of certayne Philosophers, whiche in deede I can not excuse nor denie: whiche Philosophie, both in this whereof we now entreate, as also in many other thynges, is onely the vndoubted rampire in earth of a troubled minde. And lastly, there is nothing more absurd among them that loue me, then for them to seeke after the trueth by the decei∣uable iudgement of the senses: for the trueth ought not be sought by the senses, but by wit and studie.

Sorowe.

Alas, why doest thou vexe me, and adde weerinesse vnto my paine? Gene me rather some remedie, for neyther thou, not yet Philosophie her selfe, as much as she maketh for thee, shal euer constraine me to confesse that I feele no y^t, which I feele in deede.

Reason.

The delicate and loothing patient must some time be obeyed, and now & then he must be suffered to vse that, which of it selfe being hurtfull, be∣commeth profitable by meanes of his longing for it. And so am I content like wyse to suffer, that if sicknes, if punishment, if offence, if affliction be euylles of the body, which of the Stoikes seeme to be called discommodities, that the paine which riseth thereof may appeare to be, and to be ryghtly called euyl, and yf thou wylt haue it so a great euyll to: but yet suche an euyll as may be ouercome by vertue, and that I may no longer stande in contention of the

woorde, our freende Cicero shall reconcile vs well together. For I doo not denie, sayth he, but that paine is paine in deede: for els, why shoulde Fortitude be required? but I say, that it is ouercome by patience, yf so be patience be any thyng at all, but yf it be nothyng, to what ende are we garnished with Philosophie, or why are we made glorious with her name? Thus much sayth Cicero. Muche more also in the same place, is by hym diuinely set downe agaynst this inconuenience or mischiefe, in the seconde dayes disputation of his Tusculane questions, comprehendyng the discourses of fiue dayes in equall number of bookes, whiche place I thought good to poynt out vnto thee, for that it is very effectuall vnto that, whereof thou standest now in neede, especially patience, and cou∣rage of minde, which beyng empayred and lost, false opinions of the common multitude creepe in, and lamentations vnmeete for men, breake foorth.

Sorow.

Now thou layest thine hand nee∣rer my greefe, teaching me where I may finde those thinges, which vnto me, being in this case, wyl I trust, be better and more conuenient, then the brutishe and stonie opinions of the Stoikes: although also in trustyng, I distrust. For whiles beyng greedy of remedie, I repeate often vnto my selfe the same place, the bet∣ter to endure the payne, neuerthelesse I shal be neuer able of my selfe, neyther by the helpe of Cicero, nor any other to finde suf∣ficient abilitie there vnto.

Reason.

This distrust I doo not discommende, but rather prayse: let no man trust muche to hym selfe, but in all difficulties, seeke helpe not of man, but of GOD: howbeit, not in suche sort, that he beleeue that there shall come Angelles downe from heauen armed, to delyuer hym. GOD sometyme perhappes fauoureth wicked men, but as for the slouthfull, he neuer helpeth them. If thou wouldest seeme woorthie of succour, doo as muche as in thee lyeth, to styrre vp, to aduaunce, and to arme thy mynde, whiche be∣yng doone, bryng hym foorth into the feelde agaynst the Enimies.

Sorowe.

The residue, I suppose, I vnderstand what thou meanest: but this one thyng I demaunde, whiche be these weapons of the minde, whereof thou speakest?

Reason.

This is well: Nowe I conceyue some hope

of thy welfare. In the sharpnesse of matters to weepe, is wo∣manyshe: but endeuour agaynst a thyng, to resiste it: to seeke counsell and helpe, is the part of a man, and effectuall to preuayle. The weapons of the minde, and the skyll and policie in fighting, are many and diuers, accordyng to the diuersitie of the enimies. Neyther is there any duetie in Philosophie more profitable or holye, then to entreate of these, whiche as I suppose, doo more appertayne vnto you, then to knowe what the Planettes doo, what the aspect of Iupiter promiseth in a natiuitie, what Sa∣turne threatneth beyng in coniunction with Mars, what qua∣lities Mercurius the wanderyng interpretour taketh from the father and brethren, what he boroweth of euerie one that he meeteth, what is the cause of showers and heate, whereof come earthquakes, by what power and force the deepe Seas doo swell: and not to knowe from whence the colde, heate, swellyng, quakyng, and weakenesse of the minde proceede, and by what meanes the heate may be tempered, the swellyng asswaged, the quakyng and weakenesse strengthned and confirmed. In whiche practice, although Aristotle doo laugh and gybe at So∣crates, yet perhappes, afterwarde he changed his minde, and followed the same studie not a lytle. But these matters are commonly to be founde dispearsed in the writinges of the Phi∣losophers, wherewith to furnyshe the ignoraunt were ouer te∣dious, and too long a matter for this breefe discourse, and vnto the skylfull superfluous, who needeth not to be taught, but onely admonished.

Sorowe.

I knowe it is so, neyther demaun∣ded I of all thinges, but onely this one, what weapons thou wouldest specially minister vnto me, wherewith I myght en∣counter this myne enimie Payne, agaynst whom I nowe fyght?

Reason.

Herevnto can I not answeare thee better, nor brief∣lyer, then doth Cicero. For he asketh the question as thou dooest: And what weapons, sayth he, are these? He answeareth imme∣diatly, Earnest endeuour, Confyrmation, and Inwarde com∣munication.

Sorowe.

Discourse, I praye thee, vppon euery one of them: for I haue read them many tymes hereto∣fore, howbeit I am afearde, lest it happen vnto me, as it doth vnto many, who when they reade any thyng to them selues, thynk that

they vnderstand all, but when they come to vtter them selues be∣fore other, then perceyue they that they vnderstand nothing. And therefore tel me, yf you please, what is this earnest endeuour?

Reason.

This appeareth sufficiently, yf thou proceede a lytle for∣warde in Ciceroes owne woordes: but that thou shalt not seeme to aske any thyng of me in vayne, I wyl declare the same another way. There be many thynges like in the mindes and bodyes, and as there is no force of the bodye so great, so lykewyse is there no strength of the minde of such power, which with a sudden and hea∣uie burden wyl not quayle and bende. See that they be euermore prouided, and readie, least they be both ouerthrowen by their owne greatnesse, but that when neede shal require, they be founde prepared: for many tymes a very valiant man hath been sore a∣fearde, at the sudden meetyng of a mightie enimie. Geue thy mind space to refresh it selfe, and to shewe foorth it owne strength in the present danger, and then shall it receiue the assault of the enimie with securitie. The Champions that are redie to combat at the exercise called Caestes, make redie their armes, and set their necke and shoulders vnto the burden, & by bending their strength, they shew the more valure in the fight, & hauing prepared them selues, they beare y^t weight more easily, vnder which if they went slouth∣fully to worke, they might happen to fal more dangerously. In like maner, whensoeuer there appeareth any great difficultie, the minde must be bent against it, whiche if it be throughly doone, it shal become conquerour ouer all extremities: otherwyse incre∣dible it is to be spoken, howe soone a sluggyshe and vnprouided minde is ouerthrowen by a small occasion. This is that same earnest endeuour of minde, whereof Cicero speaketh, or whe∣ther thou haddest rather haue it tearmed an Intention of the minde, for both these woordes haue but one signification, indiffe∣rently, as thou feest vsed by him, & deriued both from one woord.

Sorowe.

I perceiue, and heare thee gadly, but what is Confir∣mation?

Reason.

I wyll shewe thee: In the mindes that are most valiant, there are some poyntes of distrust to be sounde ioy∣ned with other laudable affections, and although they be true∣ly perswaded, yet false matters sounde about their eares, and suche a multitude of populare errours assemble them selues

to vanquishe the castle of their minde, that it is an hard matter for it to keepe vpright iudgement. For sometime there commeth vp∣pon it a certaine dulnesse, and sometime a doubting whether those thynges be true or not, which are commonly reported by men of great learnyng and holynesse, concerning the vertue of patience, of the cumlinesse of honestie, and the bryghtnesse of glorie, or ra∣ther that whiche is disputed by others, and liked of the common people: to witte, that the best thyng that can be, is to be out of payne, that there is nothing woorse then payne, and that pleasure is the ende of all, whatsoeuer is good: also, that as for the fyrst, they are the sayinges but of fewe, but these the speeches welnigh of al men, whereof some tymes the noyse is so great, that these fewe voyces of those that doo exhort, can not be heard, and the keepers of the Castles beyng made afearde, forsake their charge, and prouide for them selues by flyght. In this case, the minde whiche is doubtful and vncertaine to whiche syde to turne, ought to be rescued with a freshe force, that it fall not from it auncient perswasion, as sometime dyd Dionisius Heracleontes, who when on a time being ouercome with payne, he had reiected y^t o∣pinion of his Schoolemaister Zeno, concerning payne, he deser∣ued to be mocked of his Schoolefellow Cleantes Let him not, I say, forget, but resist, and keepe his feete within the steppes which he hath possessed, vnderstanding what is a true thing in deede, and what shadowed: neither let him be afearde of Bugges, nor moued at outcries, assuring him selfe, that payne is nothing but dastard∣linesse, which dastardlinesse, as also paine, & death, and al difficult thinges may be ouercome by vertue. In this opinion let him con∣tinue fixed and vnmoueable, being redy valiantly to suffer that for vertue sake, whiche is terrible vnto many to thynke vpon, which could neuer be doone by any man that had not loued the most sin∣guler beautie of vertue, aboue the glittering of golde and precious stones, aboue the gleming of womens faces, or any other thyng that may be desired. By this confirmation of the minde, both false opinions, and needlesse feare is weakened, and the sharpnesse of payne aswaged. And many tymes that commeth to passe, wherof Cicero speaketh, that lyke as in battayle the Souldiour that is afearde, and throweth his weapon from hym, when he seeth his

enimie comming, and by runnyng away, falleth into danger, where, yf he had stoode to it, there had been none at al: euen so, the very imagination of payne, discomforteth a dastardly minde, which yf it had been armed and furnished with vertue, should haue escaped in fafetie, & gone away conquerour ouer payne, and haue fealt almost no greefe at al. For by patience not only the strength of the minde is encreased, but also the sharpnesse of payne dimi∣nished, and almost consumed to nothyng: Whereby it commeth to passe, that in most horrible paynes, some haue borne them selues vpryght and vnmoueable, and othersome haue been meerie, whiche coulde not haue been so, vnlesse the minde being turned from feelyng the payne, had put on the same firmitude and con∣stancie agaynst it, whereof we nowespeake.

Sorowe.

I be∣gin to vnderstande thee: but proceede to tell me what is the in∣warde speeche.

Reason.

That also wyll I tell thee. It is a valiant minde, whiche indifferently despiseth pleasure and payne, and wyl not yeelde awhitte vnto eythet: but when it perceyueth it selfe to be in danger, and besette rounde with emmies, then taketh weapon in hand, and goyng forwarde, and animating it selfe to the conflict, talketh much with it selfe, and with it owne God: although Cicero, eyther knewe not this last, or knewe not how to doo it truely, not for lacke of witte, but for want of grace. Verily, then suche kinde of talke whereof I speake, there is none more effectuall, eyther to the obseruyng of comlynesse, or enfla∣ming the strength to the ensuing of those thyngs, wherof we haue entreated, or to the brynging of our purpose to a wyshed ende. Neuerthelesse, there must not one sort of woordes be vsed, both agaynst the flatteries of pleasure, and the threates of payne, but diuerse, as it is an easie matter in eyther case for the skylfull, to discerne whiche are those flatteries, and whiche the threates, and howe far inferiour they are vnto vertue. But because we entreated but of the one of them, I wyll also alleage one example, but truely a notable one, by meanes where∣of, thou mayst be the more perfect in all the residue. And what is then this inwarde speache, which is required in paine? Thou re∣membrest what woordes the Poet Lucan maketh Pompeius

the great to vse, among the swoordes of the murderers: but be∣cause it is but a speeche faigned by the Poet, according to the qua∣litie of the person, and expressed accordyng to the greatnesse of the man, in suche woordes, as myght seeme agreable to the valure of his minde, being in that case: therefore wyll I let that passe, and recite another true and newe example, which many, that are yet alyue in this age, them selues haue seene. It is of the same couragious and inuincible auncient Samnite, who, when at the commaundement of hym, whose name it were better to suppresse in silence, he was drawen in a Cart naked about the Citie, sit∣tyng betweene two Tormentours, who with hotte glowyng tongues teared his fleshe from the boones on euery syde, and the people wept to beholde so miserable and heauie a spectacle, he with drye eyes, and graue constancie of voyce speaking vnto him selfe, sayde: What doo we, O my soule? Be of good comfort, I pray thee, and doo not faint, neyther be angrie, nor afearde: al∣though this be paynefull for a tyme, it shall not continue long, but be profitable, doubt not, for our euerlastyng saluation, and this punishment be more greeuous vnto hym that commaunded it, then to thee that sufferest it. Lift vp thy selfe, O soule, and abandon al feare, put thy trust in GOD, & anon al shalbe at an ende. By which woordes, how great a boldnesse he gathered to hym selfe, and engendred the lyke within the hartes of the hearers, it is in∣credible to be spoken: how great courage with compassion, con∣stancie, securitie, patience he procured to hymselfe and others. Al∣though, if it were diligently examined, this whereof we speake, is no inward, but an outward speeche, for that, as I haue said, it was outwardly heard of many, yet this and such lyke woordes may be spoken by other in silence, & perhaps were spoken so by him also, for somtime he held his peace, & somtime he brake foorth into these wordes which I haue recited. Moreouer, this inward speech may be vnderstoode another way: when as a man regardeth from whence it commeth, & not whither it is heard, as I suppose it veri∣fied in this man, when he spake with him selfe: but of one that in his paynes and dangers commoneth with God, there is no ex∣ample more notable, then first of Iob, & secondly of Theodosius: The one being strooken by the hand of God, and full of botches,

with what after a manner chiding libertie doth he cal vpon God, and erect hym selfe vnto hym with a feruent and complayning deuotion? The other, with howe smal a trayne being beset rounde with an innumerable armie of Barbarians, with what ardencie and sighes dyd he cal vpon God as yf he had been present? Thou hast heard the historie.

Sorowe.

I haue heard in deede, and remember it wyl, and by examples I vnderstand what thou mea∣nest, and I geue Cicero hartie thankes, from whose three small graynes I haue reaped three great eares of corne, from whiche by due tillage and husbandyng there may be gathered a great har∣uest.

Reason.

True it is in deede, for the woordes of the lear∣ned are very fruiteful, and as it were withchylde, they conteine more matter then they shew for, insomuch as thou seemedst vnto me to haue forgotten thy paynes and plaintes as long as I tal∣ked with thee. Whereby thou gatherest, that an earnest imagina∣tion of an honest thyng, whereupon the whole mind is bent with∣out with drawyng vnto any other matters, may procure great re∣leife vnto al manner payne and greeuousnesse.

Sorowe.

It may be as thou sayest in deede, howbeit I am very far from that health of mynde which thou pretendest, and I am greatly in doubt whether payne may be aswaged, or taken away by them al, or whyther they be woordes that do only fyl the minde, and delite the eares, but nothyng at al appease gr••ese.

Reason.

Woordes, I confesse, cure not the body, vnlesse ••eraduanture enchauntmen∣tes, and olde wyues charmes deserue any credite, neuerthelesse they cure the diseases of the mynde, whose good health veryly ey∣ther extinguisheth or appeaseth al bodily payne. If there were no pacience, learned men woulde neuer haue disputed so muche of it, neyther so many argumentes hereof should haue taken so firme hold fast in their mindes, eyes, and eares. How many representa∣tions of thinges doest thou reteine in memorie, how many exam∣ples hast thou seene or read, howe many histories hast thou peru∣sed, in which it is not prooued, but manifestly declared, that this is so as I say: and that if al sense of payne be not quenched through patience, which I hold opinion may be so, & oftentimes hath been found so, yet that the conquest is gotten ouer payne, & valure pro∣cured thereby to endure it manfully? What had Gneius Marius

in hym more then thou hast, who was a man altogeather voyde of learnyng, but rych in martial vertues: was not he lykewyse made of fleshe, blood, and bones? What more had Mutius, and Pompeius? What Zeno, Theodorus, & Theodatus, Possido∣nius & Anaxarchus with others innumerable, wherof some being of a seruile degree, but of merueilous nobilitie of mynd, susteyned al kindes of punishmente & tortures, not only with courage, but also with pleasure? And yf ye woulde conuert your mindes and memories vnto your owne countrie folkes, ye shoulde finde among them very boyes and girles whiche haue suffered that with ioy, whiche you being men cannot abide without teares, and com∣playntes. But nowe I perceyue, how that I haue stayed vpon a matter of al other, as ye say, most difficult and sharpe, longer then hath been my custome to do, wherefore I thinke it meete to make an ende, seeing that yf vertue cannot mitigate payne, it were follie to expect to aswage it with woordes.

Sorowe.

Al∣as, thou vrgest me at the one side, and payne vexeth me on the o∣ther, and I knowe not whiche to credite.

Reason.

Credite the noblest: wherein this wyl also muche aueile thee, to thinke vpon that most excellent and glorious light of the world, hym I meane, who in hym selfe vnited the nature of God and man, who endured so many & great tormentes for thy sake, that those which thou suf∣rest in respect thereof are but easie, yea sweete, and to be counted a play. They that folowe this kynde of remedie shal perceyue that the Philosophers knewe nothing.