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.

The Epistolare Preface of Frauncis Petrarche, a most famous Poet and Oratour, into the second booke of his woorke of Physicke against Fortune, wherein he disputeth of Aduer∣sitie.

OF all the thinges wherein I euer toke delight, either in reading or hearing, there is nothing al∣most more firmelie setled, or more deepelie imprinted, or that more often commeth in∣to my remembrance, than the saying of Heraclitus, That all things are made by disagrement. For in deede it is so: and al∣most all things in the worlde doe testifie that it is so. The Starres moue against the swift firmament: the elementes of contrarie qualities striue one against another: the earth trembleth, the seas flowe, the land shaketh, the fires crack∣le, and the windes be at perpetuall conflict among them∣selues: on time contendeth against another time, euerie thing against another thing, and all things against vs: the Spring is moyst, the Sommer drie, Haruest pleasant, and Winter sharpe: and this which is called chaunge and alte∣ration, is in verie deede, strife and disagreement. These things therefore vpon which we dwell, by which wee liue and are nourished, which flatter vs with so manie entice∣ments, notwithstanding howe terrible they are, when they begin once to be angrie, the earthquakes, and most vehe∣ment whirlewindes, shipwrackes, and burnings raging vp∣on the earth, or in the aire, doe sufficientlie declare. With what violence doeth haill fall? What force is there in stormes and tempestes? What ratling of thunder, what rage of lightning, what furie and feruencie of the waues,

what bellowing of the Sea, what roaring of flooddes, what excursion of riuers, what course, recourse, and concourse of cloudes? The sea it selfe, besides the manifest and for∣cible rage of windes, and secret swelling of the flooddes which come by vncerteine turnes, hath also certeine and determined times of ebbes and flooddes, in manie other places, but most euidentlie in the West. Which thing, whi∣lest the secret cause of the manifest motion is sought after, hath raised no lesse contention in the scooles of the Phi∣losophers, than in the sea, of the floodes. Yea, moreouer, there is no liuing creature without warre: Fishes, wilde beastes, foules, serpentes, men: one kinde of these persecu∣teth another, none of these are at quiet. The Lion follow∣eth the woolfe, the woolfe the dogge, the dogge the Hare, with vnquencheable hatred. There is also a more couragi∣ous kinde of dogges, which vseth not onelie to fight with woolfes, but also to hunt Lions, Leopardes, wilde Bores, & such like cruell beastes. And of certein, their courage is so noble and valiant, & their stomacke so haughtie, that they contemne Beares & wilde Bores, and vouchsafe to set vp∣on onlie Elephantes and Lions. The like whereof, there was one sent vnto king Alexander, and for that he contemned such small game, & his other qualities not being knowen, was therefore not regarded, but, as we read, slaine at his commaundement. Then was there afterwardes another sent vnto him, who proued accordinglie, whom the King loued entierlie, and tooke exceeding delight in him. But touching the loue of dogges towardes men, vnto whom they are reported to be most friendlie, yet howe great their loue is in deede, vnlesse hope of vittailes do get their good∣will, besides their biting and vnspeakable barking, not on∣lie the fable of Acteon, but Euripides also, truelie proueth their tearing and renting of men in pieces. The subtiltie of the Fox, among manie other beastes, is notable. Certeine fishermen, carrying fish to the towne, to the market, which in the sommer time most willingly they do by night, vpon a time found a fox lying in the high way, as if she had bene

dead: whom they taking vp, meaning to vncase her at their leasure, to saue the skin, threwe her vpon their rippes. Then the fox filling her bellie with the fishe, soddenlie lept away: and so to their great wonder & indignation, escaped them. Howe manie other sleightes of Foxes are there? what how∣ling of wolues? what barking about the staules of cattell? what watching of crowes and kites about pigeon houses, and broodes of chickens? what natural and euerlasting ha∣tred betweene them, as some do report? The one goeth in∣to the others nest, and there breaking the egges, destroieth the hope of their broode. As for the Cuckowe, he hath not onlie one or two enimies, but all birdes, in a manner, insult ouer him, as being a fugitiue, and alwayes complayning. Moreouer, what continuall wayte do the Weesels lay for the Aspes to entrap them? what assault of theeues is there against the priuie chambers and closets of rich men? what great watching & warding is there in euerie seuerall kinde, howe great and diligent contention? who is able to de∣clare the manifold labours and watchings of hunters, and haukers, their craftes and ginnes to take beastes & foules, and of fishers, their hookes and nettes to take fishes? or on the other side the subteltie of the wilde beastes, foules, and fishe? Al which things, what are they other than the instru∣mentes of contention? Moreouer, what stinges are there in waspes and hornettes? and what battailes and conflictes are there betweene these plagues and the poore neate? Neither are the dogges, or horses, or other kindes of foure footed beastes at anie more peace and quietnesse. What troubles haue they with flies in the sommer time, and howe are they molested with snowe in the winter, which some in iest doe terme, the white flies? what continuall vnquietnes is there among rattes, what insult of fleas by night, what cōtention of gnattes by day, what battailes betweene the storckes & the snakes and frogges, what warres betweene the Pig∣meis and the Cranes? What strange and wonderfull conflictes doth the greedie thirst or desire of golde raise vp betweene the people Arimaspi, and the Gryphes?

So that it is not easie to iudge whose wickednesse is the greater, but that the one endeuour to steale, the other to keepe: the one are pricked forth by couetousnesse, the o∣ther by nature. The like desire to keepe and steale, I finde likewise in the farthest partes of the world among the In∣dians: whilest certein Emotes, of incredible bignesse, and wonderfull crueltie, do semblably defende their golde a∣gainst the like couetousnesse of that nation. The Basiliske fraieth all other serpentes with his hissing, driueth them a∣way with his presence, and killeth them with his looke. The Dragon encloseth the Elephant within the foldes and windinges of his bodie: for they are doubtfull and vncer∣teine. Whereby it commeth to passe, that there is naturall enmitie betweene liuing things, as thirsting after warme blood in summer, which some do write of, and the ende of the battell maketh it credible ynough, if it bee true, that the one doth die drie and without blood, and the other hauing sucked the blood of his slaine enimie, like as a con∣querour in the battell, yet being him selfe ouercome with his deintie delicates, and burst in sunder with ouer much drinking of blood, falleth downe dead in the same place. Manie other things likewise there be, that doe grieue and offend this kinde of beast, as the most sharpe paine after the drinking of an horsleech, and the most fearefull seeing or hearing of a sillie mouse. It is a straunge case, that so great a beast, and of so huge strength, should so much abhorre the sight of so small an enimie. But thus dame Nature hath created nothing without strife and offence. The Lion him selfe, being a couragious and valiant beast, and contemning all weapons for the defence of his yong ones, yet dareth not behold the turning, nor heare the ratling of running wheeles, or emptie cartes and wagons: and moreouer, whereat a man may the more wonder, hee can∣not abide the sight of the cockes combe, and much lesse his noyce and crowing, but aboue all things, it is said, that he cannot away with the crackling of flaming fire. This strife therefore hath this beast proper vnto him selfe, be∣sides

hunting, which is common vnto all wilde beastes. Tygres also haue their contention, who by wit and subtil∣tie doe hinder and frustrate the pollicies and purposes of their enimies that come to steale their whelpes, and runne away. As for the shee woolues, they be euer at strife with hunger, husbandemen, and shepheardes, I speake nowe of venomous, and wilde beastes. But at what quietnesse are the tame flockes of cattell? with what force, and ma∣lice doe the hogges contende among themselues? Howe doe the leaders of the heardes lie togeather by the eares? What bickerments are there betwene them? what flights? what pride is there in the conquerour? what sorowe in him that is conquered? what remembrance of iniuries? what returne to reuenge? Who marketh not in reading, howe the warlike bulles, & the buck goates that fight with their hornes, haue exercised the wittes of the Poetes? What shal I say of other things? They haue all one cause of disagree∣ment: euerie thing dependeth vpon contention. When was it seene, that a strange horse comming to a newe stable, or a strange colte turned into an vnaccustomed pasture, could eate his meate in quietnesse? Who hath not obserued, that during the time that the henne sitteth, the heat is great, & the hartburning exceeding in so litle a familie? although this also be common vnto all foules. There is no liuing creature so gentle, whom the loue of his young doeth not exasperate. The roust cockes wounde one another with their spurres, and by nature and desire of blood, plucke eche other by the combe in their fight, with all the force of their bodie: so much enuie, so much pride reigneth in their hartes, such is their desire to conquere, such is their shame to yeelde. Who seeth not the stubburnesse of the Duckes and Geese, howe they thrust eche other with their brestes, chide their aduersarie with their gagling, beate him with their winges, and hange together by their billes? And as for the wilde kindes, it is lesse maruell in them for it i•• a cōmon and vsuall thing among them, that the big∣ger foules be a destruction and sepulchre to the lesser.

The wilde beast a wilde beast, the foule a foule, the fishe a fish, and one worme deuoureth another: yea, the lande foules, & foure footed water beastes do searche, turmoile & ransacke the sea, riuers, lakes and flooddes: so that of all things the water seemeth vnto me to be most troublesome, both in respect of it owne mouing, and the continuall tu∣multes of the inhabitantes thereof, as beeing a thing most fruitfull of newe creatures and strange monsters, whereof there is doubt, insomuch that in this point the learned do not reiect the opinion of the common people, that looke what euer creatures there be vpon the lande or in the aire, the like in forme there are within the waters, forasmucch as there are innumerable sortes of such whereof the aire and earth haue not the like: among all which, in a manner, either pray, or hatred breedeth contention. Yea, moreo∣uer, though these cease, yet disagreement ceaseth not. For let vs see what hartburning there is in loue, what disagree∣ment in marriage, howe manie complaintes, what suspici∣on among louers, what sighes, what paines, what conten∣tion betweene maisters and seruantes, who are nothing the lesse enimies one to another, for that they are housholde foes, betwene whom there is neuer anie peace to be hoped for, but that which is procured either by death or pouer∣tie. I will not speake of contention betweene brethren, whose agreement to be verie rare, the trueth it selfe witnes∣seth by the mouth of that Famous Poet Ouid: neither of the disagreement betweene parentes and their children, whereof the Poeme of the same Poet maketh mention: But as touching the loue of parents, whose good will is most tender towardes their children, yet how great their indig∣nation is, it is euident, whilest they loue them that are good, and lament their case, that are euill: and thus in a manner they hate, while they loue hartilie. And as tou∣ching the most neere and deare bande of the name of brother and father, wee see it sometime to bee without loue, and not seldome ioyned with hatred. I will come to the holie name of friendshippe, which being called in La∣tine

Amicitia, is deriued from the word Amo, whiche sig∣nifieth to Loue, so that it can neither consist, neither bee vnderstoode without loue. Nowe, among friendes, al∣though there be agreement in the wordes and endes, yet in the way, and in their actes, what disagreement and con∣trarietie of opinions and counsels is there? so that Ciceroes diffinition can scarce stand vpright. For, admit there be good will and loue betweene friendes, notwithstanding the consent of all diuine and humane thinges, wherewith he maketh his diffinition complete, is wanting. What then shall a man hope for in hatred? For there is hatred in loue, and warre in peace, and agreement in discention, which I will proue to be so, by those things which are daily before our eies. Beholde the wilde beastes, who being inuinci∣ble by the sword, are tamed by almightie loue. Encline thy minde, and marke with what noyse and murmure the shee Lions, Tygres, and shee Beares do come vnto that, which of them selues they doe most willinglie, and thou wilt thinke that they do it not with desire, but by compulsion. Some wilde beastes, while they engender, do make a great noise and schritching, and some keepe a sturre with their swift and sharpe talantes. Nowe, if we will giue credit vnto that, which certein great men do write of the nature of the viper, howe much contrarietie is there, how great discord, when as the male viper vpon an vnbridled (howbeit natu∣rall) sweetnesse & pleasure, putteth his head into the femal vipers mouth, then she being prouoked with a furious heat of lust, biteth it of? But when this widowe viper, being by this meanes brought great with young, approcheth vn∣to the time of her deliuerie, by the multitude of her heauie yong ones, which nowe make haste to come foorth, as it were to reuenge their fathers death, is by them torne in pieces. Thus the first coupling of these two wormes, as∣well by their generation, as bringing foorth of young, is vnfortunate vnto the whole kinde, and is founde to bee pestiferous and deadlie: whilest the engendring slayeth the male vipers, and the bringing foorth, the female.

Consider the orders of Bees in their hiues, what thronging together, what noise, what warres, not onely with their neighboures, but among themselues, what domestical con∣flictes and discensions is there among them? Beholde the neastes and houses of Pigeons, that most simple birde, and as some write, that hath no gall: with what battelles and disquietnesse, with what clamour and outcries, I pray you, do they passe foorth their life? thou wouldest thinke thou were in some barbarous and vninstructed campe, thou shalt perceiue them to be so vnquiet both day and night: I omitte their inuasions one of another, yea that verie paire that haue seuerally coupled themselues in the bande of mutuall societie and pleasure, and for that cause are de∣dicated vnto Venus, with what complaintes are they carri∣ed foorth vnto their desire? how often doth the cocke goe about the hen? and oftentimes the louer forcibly persecu∣teth his louer with his winges and bill? I will referre thee vnto the most safest kinde, whereof as the matter is not lesse, so is it also lesse notorious, and lesse painfull to bee founde. What craft and subtiltie then, what wakefull dili∣gence doth the spider vse in taking of simple and poore flies in her copwebbe? what nettes doeth she set vp for her deceit and rapine? what the Moath ouer the cloth, what the rot ouer the poast, what the litle wormes, which daye and night not without weerisomnesse, and with a certeine blunt and hollowe noise do fret through the bowelles of beames? especiallie of those in felling whereof, the dili∣gent obseruation of the Moone and seasons hath not bene obserued? Which common discommoditie, as it reigneth our the smokie cottagies of the simple husbandmen, so doth it also ouer the golden pendents of princes pallaces, temples, churches, and altars: neither spareth it also the sacred richesse of Philosophers, the boordes of bookes, parchementes, and papers. Wherevnto also I will adde this much, that vnlesse there were prouision made by pitch and tarre, and a litle burning withall, manie times it is the cause of the daunger of shipwracke, or of shipwracke

it selfe: yea, they haue entred into the sea, & eaten through the plankes of shippes, and haue procured great troubles to the vnaduised. Againe, what doeth the grassehopper vn∣to herbes, the caterpiller vnto corne, or the wilde geese to the ripe fruites and graine, or the poore sparrowe, or the crane that translateth his dwelling, and other importunate kindes of foules? Whereof commeth that saying of the Poet Virgil in his Georgikes, whereat I was wont to meruel, but nowe I wonder nothing at all, howe foules are fraide by noyse making. For nowe vnto him that shall happen to dwell in anie place in the countrie in Italie, this one thing is begonne to be one of the manifold sommer anoyances. For so am I my self continually troubled from morning to night with the falling of foules, the ratling of stones, and crying out of the husbandmen. Moreouer, what doeth the mildeawe to the vintage, the blast to the herbes, the can∣ker to the leaues, and the moule to the rootes? To be short, the weeuill to the barnes & floores? and the Emot which maketh prouision against old age come, as the Poet saith, what toyle and vnrest is there in that poore litle creature, that whilest she prouideth for her owne winter, shee trou∣bleth our sommer? I should be verie slowe to beleeue other herein, but I my selfe know by experience, with how much not only weerisomnesse, but losse also, that dustie swarme, and which by their hastie marching doe euermore declare their feare, do not onlie spoyle and forrey the fieldes, but also cheastes, chambers, and storehouses. And therefore I will nowe begin to beleeue, that in the Pisane cōfines there is a castle, which vnto them that saile vpon the sea, seemeth to be not farre of, that is become desolate by meanes of swarmes and aboundance of Emotes. The like hereof also is reported to haue happened in the Vincentine confines. And I am of opinion that it may be true in anie of them both, or in anie other place whatsoeuer: it hath so hap∣ned a late, that they haue not onelie driuen me out of my countrie house, but well nigh out of my house in the citie, insomuch that I was faine to vse the meane of fire and

lime, and at last to runne away. And now I verie well be∣leeue Apuleius, where he saith, that there was a man eaten by them, although there want of honie: Neither doe I denie, but that I do wonder, what should be the cause, that some haue proposed the Emote to be the patterne of care∣fulnesse: concerning which matter, some haue made long discourses, cōmending their sparingnes and industrie. Wel then, if all carefulnes bee commendable, perhappes this were a meete example for theeues, and not for such as are willing to liue vpon their own, without doing iniurie to an other. It is a carefull creature in deed, no man can denie it, but wicked, but vniust, liuing by rapine, industrious in no∣thing, but that which is euill, seruing to no good vse, but bringing manifold discommodities and wearisomues: why therefore they haue proposed this example, and why they haue commended this litle beast? Againe I say, I maruel, es∣peciallie when they might haue vsed the exāple of the Bee, which is a most industrious and prouident beast, a creature that hurteth none, but is profitable vnto many, succouring it selfe & others by it owne natural art, and most noble tra∣uell. What should I nowe speake of the hurtful plentie, and ranck increase of branches & leaues of trees, against which the wakeful husbandman giueth his diligent attendance, & lieth in waite, being armed with his sharpe nailes, & the hedge brusher with his crooked hooke? what of the burres & briars, and the yeerely returne of plants & rootes, which minister perpetual matter of strife and toyle? what of the furious rage of shewres of raine, and heapes of snowe, and biting of frostes, and the sharpnesse and violence of yce, and the suddein violence of flooddes, & the vncertein encreases of streames, which many times shake whole regions & great peoples: but especially the hedges and fences of the hus∣bandmen, who among so many mischiefes can scarse passe forth this earthlie life, wherein they are euermore bending downe to the ground? And to say somewhat concerning the discommodities and toyles of the delicate & rich sort: who hath not endured the mightie conflictes of birdes?

Also the crying of owles and schritches, and the bootlesse watching of dogges all night barking against the Moone, and cattes making their meetings vpon the tyles & toppes of houses, and the quiet silence disturbed with horrible outcries, and troubling men with their hellishe clamour, and whatsoeuer else maketh anie grieuous noyse in the darke? Wherevnto may be added, the croaking of frogges and toades in the night, and the lamenting and threate∣nings of the swallowes in the morning: so that a mā would thinke that Itys and Tereus him selfe were present. For as touching the quietnes of birdes by day, the squeeking gras∣shoppers, the arrogant crowes, and braying asses doe di∣sturbe it, and the bleating of cattell, and the bellowing of Oxen, and the vnwitten cackling of hennes without sur∣ceasing, who sell their small egges for a great price. But a∣boue al things, is either the crying of swine, or the commō clamour and laughter of fooles, than which foolish thing, there is nothing more foolish, as saieth Catullus: and the singing and merimentes of drunkardes, than which no∣thing is more grieuous: and the complaintes of such as are at variance, and the iangling and scoulding of olde wiues: and sometime the battailles, some time the lamen∣tation of children: and of weddings, either their vnquiet feastes, or their daunsings: and the merrie mournings of wiues, who by craft do seeme to lament the death of their husbands: and the vnfeigned howlings of parentes at the decease of their children: adde herevnto the thronging and noise of the court of iudgement, the altercations of Marchants, and such as buie and sell, at one side the small regard, on the other side the oathes of the sellers. Adioine herevnto the sorrowful singing of the workmen to aswage their painfull trauel: at the on side the vnpleasant Musick of such as beate & toose wooll, & breake it smal with the teeth of the cardes: on the other side, the hollowe breathing of the smithes bellowes, & the sharpe sound of their hāmers: whervnto may be added the winter night, which with these

trauels is deuided into equall partes, so that there is no time free from vnquietnesse & strife. And to touche some deale the kinde of things insensible, what hath the load∣stone to do with iron, or the diamond with the loadstone, the cause of whose disagreement, though it be secret, yet is their disagreement manifest. For the loadstone draweth i∣ron, but lay a Diamond by it, and it will leaue to drawe, or let go hold, if it drewe before. The vertue in them both is wonderfull, either in that Nature hath giuen, as it were, hands and hooked nailes vnto an heauie and euilfauoured stone against a rough and stubburne mettal, or whether she take them away vnto her selfe by meanes of the other stone that lyeth by, which is not the end of the first strife, but ra∣ther a newe strife. Howbeit, manie denie this last thing to be true, and as for me, hetherto I haue wanted occasion & will to make experiment or proofe thereof: and there∣fore I can affirme nothing. But as for the first, it is so well knowen, that there is no neede to proue or auow it. How∣beit, hauing vndertaken a great work, with a mightie cou∣rage, in to short a time, and to narrowe a space, I doe nowe easilie perceiue that I carrie a greater desire than strength to the accomplishing therof. Neither were it an easie mat∣ter for me or anie man else that should take this matter in hande, sufficiently to discourse vpon euery point, whereby it may appeare, that al things cōsist by disagreement, which whether they be great or small, are verie wonderfull and strange: although I haue not yet touched that which is greatest, and to be accompted the most maruellous from the highest to the lowest of all Natures miracles: but I will nowe touche it in fewe wordes. The Echinus, beeing but a small fishe of halfe a foote long, stayeth a shippe, bee it neuer so great, when it is vnder sayle vppon the Sea, or driuen foorth by oares, being onelie able (of all fis∣shes) to quaile the force of the elementes and men, by none other meanes than by cleauing to the timber of the shippe, by none endeuour or strength in the worlde,

but onelie by nature. Which thing, although it be written in the workes of learned and famous authours, yet should it be counted in the number of things incredible, if so bee perhaps it were written of the Indian, or Scythian Ocean, & had not rather happened that in our seas this wonder had bin knowen to the Romane Emperours. The cause of the stay was founde by this meanes, in that when an whole fleete of shippes was setting forth, one of them stoode stil, as if she had lien at anker, not stirring a whit out of her place. Then some that were expert, being lette downe into the sea, easilie perceiued the trueth, and there was founde cleauing fast to the bottome of the rudder, a litle fishe, like a snaile, whiche was brought away, and presented to the prince, who disdained that so little a creature should be of so great power, but speciallie wondred at this one thing, that when it was receiued into the shippe, it had no longer power to worke that effect, which it did when it cleaued to the outside. But as touching that other kinde of straunge thing, truelie I had rather keepe silence, than absolutely to auerre it, the fame whereof I knowe not howe true it is, but surelie it is newe, and for that cause the more to bee doubted of. The thing is this: That about the Indian sea, there is a certeine birde of an incredible bignesse, whom our countriemen call a Roche, which is able and accusto∣med to take vp, not onelie a man, but also an whole shippe in her beake, and to flie away with it into the cloudes, and so procureth a terrible death to the wretched people han∣ging in the aire. See therefore howe great the force of co∣uetousnesse is, which not being able to deter the follow∣ers thereof from sayling, neither by manie other perilles, neither by this most cruell daunger, maketh them a pray, that are so greedie of pray. And nowe also to bring some inuisible things to my purpose, in what commixtion of contraries consisteth wished temperature, among whiche there is a conioyning of repugnant cōtraries for the brin∣ging foorth of the middle vertue: By meanes of whiche differences, and by what disagreement of voyces doe men

atteine vnto true Musical concord? Finallie, examine what∣soeuer there is, runne through in thy minde al the heauen, the earth, the sea: there is like contention in the toppe of the skie and the bottom of the sea, and there is strife in the deepe riftes of the earth, aswell as in the woddes & fieldes, and aswell is there perpetuall disagreement in the desertes of sandes, as in the streetes of cities. And now lest through varietie of matter I wander from my purpose, I say nothing that at the verie beginning of the world, there was a battel fought in the highest of heauen, betweene the ethereal spi∣rites: and some are of opinion also, that they fight yet at this day, in this region of the darke and mistie aire. I say no∣thing, howe that in the same heauenly conflict, the angels that were vanquished, beeing nowe become inferiour to their conquerours, whilest they endeuour to be reuenged vpon vs mortall men that inhabite the earth, they haue procured vnto vs an immortall warre of sundrie temptati∣ons, with an hard and doubtfull businesse. And, that I may gather together into one summe, al things whatsoeuer, ha∣uing sense, or without sense, from the vppermost toppe of heauen, as I haue said, vnto the lowermost centre of the earth, and from the chiefest angell, to the basest and least worme, I omitte to speake, howe there is continuall and e∣uerlasting strife betweene them. Man him selfe, the lord & gouernour of all liuing creatures, who, onely by the rule of reason, seemeth able to guide in tranquillitie this course of life, and this swelling and troublesome sea, with what continuall strife is he tossed, not onelie with other thinges, but also with him selfe, wherof I will speake anon? But now I will intreat of the first: for there is no mischiefe that one man worketh not against another, to admit that all other harmes, by what meanes soeuer they happen, whether by nature, or fortune, yet, being cōpared with these, do seeme but light discommodities. Which, if I would discipher at large, which I would not willingly do, and it is far from my purpose, both al the whole sceane of humane actions were to be opened, & al the historie of life to be perused. But it shalbe sufficient for me to say thus much: for if there had

ben neuer any other warres in all the world, but the warres of the Romanes, there had bin warres & strife ynough. Adde moreouer the disagrement of opinions, & the indissoluble knottes and intrications of matters: who is able to reckon vp the varietie of sectes, or contention of Philosophers. The warres of kings & nations are at rest, but the Philosophers are not at agreement, and they cōtend about a matter, that when it beginneth to be the ones, it surceasseth to be the o∣thers. These men contend for the trueth, which euery one of them cannot haue on his side, & this strife neither could the maiestie of the purchased veritie, neither Carneades the Academike, a carefull seeker after the Philosophicall quiet∣nesse, though in vaine, euer be able to appease. Insomuch that Anneus Seneca seemeth vnto me, not vnfitly to haue writen, where he cōpareth the clocks & dials with Philoso∣phers, for the like discord that is found among thē. Which, howe true it is, whosoeuer applieth his mind to Philoso∣phers, & his eares to the clocks, may wel perceiue: neither is the doctrine of other Artisants in more tranquillitie. what cōtentions are there amōg Grāmarians not yet deci∣ded? what cōflicts among Rhetoricians? what alterations among Logicians? Finally, what discord in all artes? what clamour among Lawiers? who, how wel they agree, the cō∣tinuāce of their causes doth shew. Of the agrement of Phy∣sitians, let their patients be iudge. For, that life which they haue pronounced to bee short, by their contentions they haue made most short. Moreouer, what deformitie and what disagreement of opinions is there in the holie rites of the Church and Religion, not so much in the woordes of the learned, as in the weapons of the armed, and more often tried in the fielde, than discussed in the scooles? Thus, being but one trueth, in all matters, vnto which as saith Aristotle, al things are agreeable: yet the opi∣nion of them is verie dissonant & cōtrarie, that it troubleth the professours of the truth. What shall I say of the cōmon life and affaires of men? That there are scarce two in a citie that do agree, both manie things else, but especiallie the great diuersitie of their houses & apparell, doeth declare.

For whosoeuer succeeded anie man in an house, were hee neuer so riche and good an husband, that hath not neuer∣thelesse chaunged manie things in it? so that looke what one man had a desire to builde, another hath a pleasure to plucke downe: witnesse hereof may be, the often changing of windowes, damming vp of doores, and the skarres, and newe reparations that are done in olde walles. Neither is this true in other things onelie, but we suffer it also in our owne, whilest euerie mans opinion and iudgement is con∣trarie to him selfe, according to the saying of Horace the Poet, He plucketh downe, and buildeth vp, and chaungeth that which was square, into rounde. By which it may more mani∣festlie appeare, which of vs it is than canne agree with ano∣ther man, or with him selfe. Now the manner and fashion of our apparell, continueth three whole daies in our cities: and likewise the actes and lawes of certeine Municipies or freedomes haue bene such, and of so small continuance, that they haue perished with their authours. Againe, what disagreement and contrarietie is there among Captaines about ordering a battell, and among Magistrates for ma∣king of lawes, and among saylers for counsell, and taking aduisement? And as for this that I spake of last, I haue lear∣ned to be true manie times to my great daunger, whilest the sea and heauen threatning death, the darke night and cloudes ouerspreding the lande and starres of the skie, the ship leaking and halfe full of water, the saylers in the most daunger and middest of death, fel most obstinately at con∣tention with contrarie endeuours and opinions. Adde herevnto, the contention which is without an aduersarie: what battails haue Shriueners with parchment, with inke, with pennes, with paper? what, smithes with hāmers, with tonges, with the anduile? what, plowmen with their coul∣ter, share, and the cloddes, furrowes, and the oxen them∣selues? what, the souldiers, I say not with their enimie, but with their owne horses and armour, when as the horses re∣bell and waxe obstinate, and their armour troubleth them and wayeth them downe? what businesse haue they that

speake, and those that write at the mouth of another, whi∣lest earnest intention constraineth the one to speake manie things vnperfect, and on the one side ignorance and vn∣skilfulnes, at the other side a flitting and vnconstant wit, alwayes thinking on some thing else than it hath in hand, hindreth them to conceiue the things that are perfect? But what speake I of euerie seuerall thing? There is no handi∣crast that is voyd of all difficulties. As for all other, as they haue some knowne sweetnesse, so haue they also great store of secret bitternes: and of all the thinges that doe delite, there is none without strife. Nowe, what conflictes haue infantes with falles? what contention haue children with their bookes and learning, most sowerly sowing that, which they shall reape most sweetlie? Moreouer, what strife haue yong men with pleasures? yea, I will speake more tru∣lie, what warres haue they with themselues, and what con∣tention is there among their affections? There is altoge∣ther no strife with pleasures, but a consent and agreement, which is worse than any contention. I suppose and speake vpon experiēce, that there is no kinde of men, nor age that tasteth more strife, or that sustaineth more inextricable & painfull trouble, no kinde of men that seeme more merrie, and none in deede more miserable and sorowfull. And last∣lie, in what difficultie and great danger are women in their childe bearing? What contention and wreastling haue men continuallie with pouertie and ambition? what great car∣king for more than is needefull for liuing? And finallie, what euerlasting warre haue old men with old age & sick∣nesses when death draweth nigh, and all other things and persons with death also, and that which is more grieuous than death it selfe, with the continuall feare of death? I might dilate this discourse with a thousand argumentes of sundrie matters: but if, as it was thy pleasure in the first booke, thou wilt nowe likewise haue this epistle to stande in the steade of a preface, & to be part of this booke, I well perceiue nowe how much this preface exceedeth the mea∣sure of the booke: and therefore my curiositie is to bee

bridled, and stil to bee stayed. And therefore to conclude, all thinges, but specially the whole life of man, is a certeine kinde of contention and strife. But in the meane while, o∣mitting this externall strife, wherof we entreated erewhile, which I would God it were lesse, & therefore lesse knowne to all men: how great is the internall contention, not on∣ly against an other, but as I haue saide, against our owne kinde, not against an other particular person, but against our selfe, and that in this bodily outward couering, which is the most vile and base part of our selues? and euerie one hath continuall warre with him selfe in the most secret clo∣set of his minde. For as touching this our bodie, with how contrarie humours it aboundeth and is troubled, enquire of those that are called naturall Phylosophers: but with how diuerse and contrarie affections the minde striueth against it selfe, let euerie one enquire of none other than him selfe, and answere him selfe, with how variable and vn∣certeine motion of minde hee is drawne sometime one way, some time an other: he is neuer whole, nor neuer one man, but alwayes dissenting & deuided in himselfe. For, to speake nothing of other motions, to will, to nill, to loue, to hate, to flatter, to threaten, to mock, to deceiue, to feigne, to iest, to weepe, to pitie, to spare, to bee angrie, to bee pleased, to slide, to bee cast downe, to bee aduanced, to stumble, to stande vp, to goe forwarde, to turne backe, to begin, to leaue of, to doubt, to erre, to bee deceiued, to be ignorant, to learne, to forget, to remember, to enuie, to contemne, to wonder, to loath, to despise, and to haue in admiration, and such like, than whiche truly there can bee nothing imagined more vncerteine, and with which the life of man ebbeth and floweth vncerteinly, from the be∣ginning to the ending without intermission. For what tempests and madnesse is there in these foure passions, to wit, to hope or desire, and to reioice, to feare and to bee sorie, whiche trouble the poore and miserable minde, by driuing him with sodeine windes and gales, in course far from the hauen into the middes of the dangerous rocks? Which passions, some one way, and some another, yea di∣uersly

diuerse haue expressed in lesse than in an whole verse. And as Saint Augustine writeth, the Poet Virgil hath com∣prised in a most knowne veritie: of which passions truly I am not ignorant, that more and lesse may bee said on both sides. As for me I haue not much studied for shortnesse nor copie, but I haue set downe in writing such matter as in or∣der hath offered it selfe to me, out of the common course of mans life, that I might not werie the Reader, either with scarcitie or tediousnesse. And let not the name of Fortune grieue thee, which is repeated not onely in the superscrip∣tions and tytles, but also in the woork: For truly thou hast often heard mine opinion, concerning fortune. But when I foresawe that this Doctrine was most necessarie, special∣ly for such as were not furnished with learning, I haue vsed in their behalfe the common and knowne woord, not be∣ing ignorant, what other men generally, & most briefly. S. Hierome thinketh of this matter, where he sayth, that there is neither Fortune nor destinie, so that the common sort shall acknowledge and perceiue here their manner of speaking: as for the learned, which are but scarce, they will vnderstand what I meane, and shall not bee troubled with the vsuall woord. Of the one part of this twoofold woorke, concerning passions and fortune, wee haue saide alredie, what wee thought good, & of the other we will now speake, what wee shall see con∣uenient.

Of deformitie of the bodie. The first Dialogue.

Sorowe, and Reason.

Sorowe.

I Complaine, that Nature hath dealt verie hardlie with mee, in making me euill fauoured.

Rea∣son.

O howe manie fire brandes hath she quenched? howe manie flames hath she repressed?

So∣rowe.

Nature hath made mee deformed.

Reason.

She hath not giuen thee that which might de∣lite thee: if shee haue giuen thee that which may profit thee, it is sufficient, and therefore leaue thy complaintes.

Sorowe.

Nature hath not giuē me the grace of good fauour.

Reason.

Shee hath giuen thee nothing that sicknes might deface, & old age take away: perhaps she hath giuen thee that, which death it selfe dareth not touche.

Sorowe.

Nature hath denied me the fauour of the bodie.

Reason.

If she haue giuē thee the good fauour of the minde, thou art much beholden to her: contemne that repulse with a valiant minde, and comfort the offence of the looking glasse, with the vpright∣nesse of thy conscience.

Sorowe.

Nature hath enuied me the fauour of the bodie.

Reason.

She hath not enuied it thee, but she is ashamed to giue thee that which is dailie diminished and wasted. True liberalitie is perceiued by a cōtinuing gift. Rotten and transitorie giftes couetous persons do giue: good fauour, which is a fraile and transitorie gift of Nature, is gi∣uen vnto fewe for their profit, vnto manie to their destruction, but vnto none to their safetie and true glorie.

Sorowe.

Bodily fauour is denied vnto me.

Reason.

Excellent fauour of the bodie, and honestie, do verie seldome dwell together vnder one roofe. It is wel w^t thee, if the worse being excluded, thou retein the better geast with thee.

Sorowe.

I haue no part of the come∣linesse of good fauour.

Reason.

Why art thou sorie for that, or, what holie or godly matter doest thou reuolue in thy minde?

For what cause doest thou thinke the good fauour of the bodie to be necessarie for thee, or not rather altogether burdensome and hindering? Good fauour hath made manie adulterers, but none chast: Manie hath it ledde through the slipperinesse of pleasures vnto an infamous death, who if they had been euill fauoured, might haue liued without shame and danger. What say I manie? Yea it hath brought innumerable into trouble, but all welnigh into blame.

Sorowe.

Why hath nature made me deformed?

Reason.

To the ende thou shouldest adorne and make thy selfe well fauoured, with that fauour which may remaine with thee in thine old age, in thy bedde▪ in thy beere, in thy graue: and that which may be thine own com∣mendation, not the prayse of nature, nor of thy parentes. It is more beautifull, to be made beautifull, than so to be borne: For the one commeth by chaunce, the other by studie.

Sorowe.

Much deformitie of bodie oppresseth me.

Reason.

This deformitie of some is counted a part of vnhappinesse and mi∣serie, Beleeue thou me, the minde is not defiled by deformitie of the bodie, but the bodie adorned by the beautie and fauour of the mind. Then it is not this that oppresseth or dishonesteth thee, but it openeth the way, and layeth foorth the matter and meane to honest the minde, and to rise aloft through vertue.

Sorowe.

Nature hath brought mee foorth deformed into the world.

Reason.

If she had brought forth Helen euill fauou∣red: or, to speake of Men, if Paris had been borne without good fauour, perhappes Troy had stoode to this day.

Sorowe.

I complaine that I was borne euill fauoured.

Reason.

But fewe good men haue loued the comelinesse of the bodie, none haue desired it, manie haue reiected it: for doing of which, that Tuscane youth is commended, who of his owne accorde man∣gled and defourmed the excellent beautie of his well fauoured face, which he perceiued to be suspected of manie, and enimie to his owne good name, and hurtfull to the honestie of other: farre vnlike vnto thee, who wishest for that, whereof he dispoi∣led him selfe, and which fewe did euer enioye without hurt.

Sorowe.

I want good fauour.

Reason.

It is more safe to want that, by meanes whereof thou mayest often fall into a

doubtfull and painfull experiment of thy selfe. Comelinesse & beautie hath hurt manie, it ••••th troubled all, manie a••••••r sundrie conflictes it hath made effeminate, and made them ea∣sie to be ouercome, and thrust them ouerthwartlie into blame and reproofe.

Sorowe.

My stature is deformed, and to lowe.

Reason.

This discommoditie is not, as thou supposest, to bee complained of: the lowe stature is more comelie, light, and nimble.

Sorowe.

My stature is verie short.

Reason.

Who can gainesay, that as a bigge man dwelleth in a litle house, so may a valiant courage in a small bodie?

Sorowe.

My bodie is small.

Reason.

Thou lamentest, for that thou art not a bur∣den vnto thy selfe, but light, and dapper, and actiue vnto all things.

Sorowe.

My bodie is verie small.

Reason.

Who e∣uer complained of a small burden? Thou hast a iust cause true∣lie to be sorie, for that thou art not oppressed with the greatnes of the bodie, but onelie hast a bodie, neither art a burden to thy selfe, but an vsuall necessarie.

Sorowe.

I am of a contempti∣ble stature.

Reason.

As nothing is glorious but vertue, so no∣thing is contemptible but vice. Vertue respecteth no stature.

Sorow.

The stature of my bodie is smal.

Reason.

Vertue re∣quireth not the stature of the bodie, but of the minde. If this be long, right, large, magnifical or comelie, whatsoeuer the other be, it skilleth not, not only not at home, but not so much as in the field at warfare, vnlesse it seeme to be more hurtful. Thou kno∣west how the most noble captaine Marius, chose tough & strōg (not tall) souldiers. Which thing how wiselie, and with howe fortunate successe he attempted, his often and great conquestes do testifie. As for the heigth & tallenesse of the bodie, it carieth more maiestie with it, but lesse force.

Sorowe.

My stature is short.

Reason.

The same hindreth thee not, but that thou mayest notwithstanding be a good and valiant man: yea, if neede were, and fortune so serued, a King, or an Emperour. For although that Scipio Africane were tall of bodie, and Iulius Caesar of a loftie stature, notwithstanding Alexan∣der King of Macedonia, and Augustus Caesar; ••ere but lowe, neither did their shortnessed 〈◊〉〈◊〉 bodie hinder their great∣nesse of minde, nor de••••act anie thing from their fame.

••••••owe.

I woul•• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ••••••r and greater.

Reason.

Arise 〈…〉〈…〉 ••••••e, and thou shalt bee greater, and ••a••••er. 〈…〉〈…〉 more profitable and easie encrease.

Sorowe.

I de••••e to bee well fauoured.

Reason.

Learne to loue and wishe for that, which is better. It is a foolishe part to loue a mans owne danger: and a follie to desire that, whiche by no meanes canne bee gotten. For, if thou ende∣uour to bee well fauoured contrarie to the course of Nature, thou shalt profit no more, than to appeare more deformed.

Sorowe.

I traueill in vaine to bee well fauoured.

Reason.

En∣deuour to bee good, and that shalt thou not doe in vaine. This vertue hath a speciall gift aboue the residue, that it may bee gotten, and can not bee taken away. And when other things stande at the curtesie of Fortune, and without her cannot bee purchased, nor preserued: vertue onelie is free from her lawes, and the more shee striueth, the more bright∣lie shee shineth.

Of weakenesse. The ii. Dialogue.

Sorowe.

NAture hath made mee weake.

Reason.

Like as a sword of steele is couered in a rotten skaberd: so, many times lyeth there hidde a valiant minde in a crasie bo∣die.

Sorowe.

I am borne weake.

Reason.

Thou art not meete to beare burdens, nor to digge and plowe lande, but for honest studies, and iust superiorities: So, in a shippe, the stronger sort are set to handle the axes, but the wiser to guide the helme. The life of Man being like a shippe that ••••••os∣sed with the flooddes of affaires, and the de•••••• Sea of the worlde, hath it peculiar oares, and helme: then seeing thou art repulsed from the viler functions, conuert thy selfe to the more woorthie.

Sorowe.

Nature hath made me a weake∣ling.

R••••son.

What 〈…〉〈…〉 ••••••ade thee passing strong? Is strength a thing tha•• 〈…〉〈…〉: Cōmeth it not to passe, that the stronger the olde age is, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 stronger is the sicknesse?

And to let passe the innumerable chaun••••••h ••ich do sud••••••••ie enfeeble and weaken an whole man: the strength of the ••••••nde is to be wished for, which neither continuance, nor fortune can empaire.

Sorowe.

My bodie is weake.

Reason.

Nourish and exercise thy minde, in her artes which thou doubtest not to be best, and of most continuance: as for the labour of the bodie, leaue it vnto husbandmen, sailers, and smithes.

Sorowe.

I had no strength from the beginning.

Reason.

But it is more tollerable neuer to haue had it, than to lose it: For if thou had haddest strength, it would not haue continued, insomuch as Miloes strength waxed old, and so would Hercules haue done if he had liued. But so did not the strength of Socrates, nor of Solon, nor of Nestor, nor of Cato. Exercise the better: No∣thing can delite a great minde, that doeth not continue.

Sorow.

This poore carcase of mine is weake.

Reason.

If this in∣strument or vessell be sufficient for the soule or mind that dwel∣leth within, then is there strength ynough: For that the bodie was by Nature ordeined to serue the minde, there is no man so much a seruant to the bodie that is ignorant, if so be it doe it owne duetie: what doest thou accuse, or what doest thou desire more? For they that are strong of bodie, and weake of witte, are most like vnto beastes, and manie times, which is a mise∣rable case, are seruantes vnto other: and manie times also, which is most miserable, and the verie summe of humane mi∣serie, they enforce their minde to be slaue to their bodie, and to serue it in most filthie seruitude.

Sorowe.

I haue a weake bodie.

Reason.

The true and notable strength of Man, is in his minde: As for the bodie, it is as a man should say, a certein house of the minde, which, howe strong or weake it is, apper∣teineth not to the geastes, especiallie like to soiourne there but a fewe dayes, so that it fall not downe: for then necessitie con∣streineth them to remoue into another, which is an euerlasting house, when they are driuen out of the first. I would say more, if thou couldest conceiue more, and were not altogether become deafe by the common noyse, to wit, that the bodie is not the house, but the prison of the minde, not his friende, but his do∣mesticall foe, for whose frailtie thou oughtest to pray, whereby

thou mightest the sooner be made free, and a conquerour.

Sor∣rowe.

I haue no strength.

Reason.

While thou art in health thou wantest none: but if thou be otherwise, then hast thou o∣ther cause to complaine. Thou meanest not then that thou hast no strength at al, but thou wouldest say, thou hast litle strength. Thou art not as strong and sturdie, as was thy coequal, nor he, as was another, neither that other as strong as an exe or an Elephant: there is a measure in euerie mans strength: dame Nature hath most bountifullie distributed vnto euerie one that which is sufficient, and is more louing towarde her children, than anie man is toward his owne. Ye cannot complaine of want, but ye complaine of inequalitie. You troublesome and complaining generatiō, if this should be taken away, the beau∣tie of the world must needes perish. Thus that which is best, ye can least abide.

Of sicknesse, The iii. Dialogue.

Sorowe.

BVt I am sicklie.

Reason.

I heare that which I looke for, for these complaints go alwayes together. But if the fleshe be enimie to the spirit, & one of them striue against another, which thing the great friende of trueth, hauing felt within him selfe, hath pronounced it truelie in all men, it followeth, that that which hindreth one, helpeth another. But if the spirit be better and more noble than the fleshe, which then we ought most speciallie to fauour, thou seest, and perhaps vn∣derstandest thy state of bodie, which thou sayest to be feeble, to be in deede most prosperous.

Sorowe.

I am sicklie.

Reason.

But sparingnes is an earnest exhorter, and a dehorter from li∣centiousnesse, and a mistresse of modestie.

Sorowe.

I am sicke.

Reason.

If thy bodily health be good, lay away care∣fulnesse, whatsoeuer happeneth to the bodie, thou art in safetie.

Sorowe.

My bodie is sicke and weake.

Reason.

Sicknes of the bodie, hath been auaileable vnto the welfare of the minde in manie. That excellent man, who from a lowe degree, from the water, and his fishing nettes, was aduaunced to the

skies, and made key keeper of the gates of heauen, whose one∣lie shadowe draue away the sicknesses and infirmities of the bodie, being demaunded sometime why he suffred his owne daughter to be molested with a grieuous sicknesse, answered: It is profitable for her it be so. Howe knowest thou then, whe∣ther it be also profitable for thee or not?

Sorowe.

I haue bin long thus sick in bodie.

Reason.

The same man of whom I speake, knewe that his daughter might soone & safely be made whole, and he made her whole, and made her able also to heale others. See thou likewise that thy health seeme certeine and vndoubted vnto thee, and perhaps thou shalt be healed. Final∣lie, as much as in thee lyeth, cure thou thine owne soule, and committe the cure of him vnto the heauenlie Phisition. In summe, this one thing will I say boldlie: If not for that which shall delite, yet at leastwise hope for that whiche is expedient.

Sorowe.

My bodilie state is painful.

Reason.

Then hast thou that, which will driue away forgetfulnesse and sleepe, & expell slouthfulnes.

Sorowe.

I am weake.

Reason.

Boast in thine infirmities, and accomplish vertue: these two thou hast learned at the mouth of one and the selfe same maister.

Sorowe.

The state of my bodilie health is miserable.

Reason.

An vnplea∣sant cōpanion, but faithful, which will often put thee in minde, poinct thee the way, and admonish thee of thine estate, & which is best in dangers, a faithful admonisher.

Sorowe.

The estate of my bodilie health is extreame without remedie.

Reason.

Holde thy peace & reioyce, that thou art enclosed in a ruinouse prison, out of which thou mayst depart soone, and easilie.

Of a base Countrie. The iiii. Dialogue.

Sorowe.

I Dwel in a base countrie.

Reason.

Be thou noble: for there is nothing letteth thee, seeing thy coūtries nobilitie hath no∣thing to do with thine.

Sorow.

I dwel in a smal citie.

Reason.

Great cities haue also smal citizens, & for the most part con∣sist of such: & smal cities in times past, haue had great citizens. Yea, Romulus, that was laid forth & nourished in the woods, builded the citie of Rome, that was queene of all cities, which

Catiline being borne in the same great citie, went about to o∣uerthrow.

Sorowe.

I was borne in a small countrie.

Reason.

Studie thou to aduance it: there is nothing that so much com∣mendeth cities, as the vertue & glorie of the citizens, Who so thinketh that this may better be done by the building, or fruit∣fulnes, or riches, is deceiued. As it is in euery particular mā, so is it also in cities & kingdomes, & Empires, whom not anti∣quitie, not towres & walles, not stretes, not palaces & churches of marble, not statues, not gold, not precious stones, not cāpes ful of armed garizōs, & hauens replenished w^t fleetes of ships, not martes & pawnes stored with outlandish marchandize, and euerie sea round about cut & turmoiled for desire of gaine: last∣lie, not the beautie, or nūber of the inhabitants, not the plentie of al things, & the markets flowing with meate, not the sump∣tuous apparell of the men, & costlie making & fashion thereof, not statelinesse, not delites, not pleasures, but vertue onlie ma∣keth noble, & the fame of valiant exploites, which men do pur∣chase, not walles.

Sorowe.

I am a citizen of a small freedome.

Reason.

Knowest thou not that Bias was a Prienian borne, Py∣thagoras a Samian, Anacharsis a Scythian, Democritus an Abderite, Aristotle a Stagyrite, Theophrastus a Lesbian, and Tullie an Arpinate? Chous, which is but a small Iland in the Egeum sea, brought forth Philitis, who was no base Poet, and also the father of Phisitions, & the primes of keruers and pain∣ters, namely, Hippocrates, & Phidias & Apelles: that it may be vnderstood, how that the litlenesse & narrownesse of places, is no hinderance to the greatnesse & excellēcie of wits.

Sorow.

My countrie is vnnoble.

Reason.

Endeuour thou asmuch as in thee lieth, to make it noble, which thou mayest doe, if thou list, forasmuch as it cannot make thee noble. For the basenesse of their countrie was neither a barre vnto Numa Pompilius, to keepe him from the Romane kingdome, neither Septimus Se∣uerus frō the Empire. Although Augustus, the most excellent of all men, came of later time of a Romane generation, for that hee was borne in the palace, notwithstanding the more an∣cient descent his familie was frō the citie Velitrae. Caius coū∣trie was Anthium, & Vespasians Reatinū, an obscure village.

But contrariwise, Achilles aduaūced the Lacissean fame: And the Pelean name, which had been base and obscure many hun∣dred yeeres before, which was renowmed by Philip, Alexan∣der aduaunced to the skies. It is not ynough that the obscure∣nesse of the countrie hurt not the inhabitantes, vnlesse the wor∣thinesse of the inhabitantes doe good to the countrie. Rome was a base sanctuarie, and a thing builded by shepheardes, and neuer became famous, vntill it began to be renowmed for va∣liant exploites, and excellent vertue of the citizens.

Sorowe.

I am bounde to an obscure countrie.

Reason.

Lighten the candle of vertue, whereby thou mayst shine in the darke, wher∣in at the lestwise thou shalt gaine this commoditie, that at lest∣wise thou shalt shine verie much with a small light, & so shall it either make thee noble, or thou it.

Sorowe.

I dwel in a base countrie.

Reason.

Be thou likewise lowlie and humble, and let the minde that dwelleth within thee, be lowlie. Thou hast an example of a publique mother, extende not thy selfe broader in thy nest, than by those wings which vertue hath giuen thee: These it is lawfull for thee to vse, and that manie haue vsed them with good successe, I declared erewhile. And therefore so long as thou shalt bee a mortall man, at leastwise holde fast this bridle of insolencie. Some men are proude onelie vppon the nobilitie of their natiue countrie: but those are a foolishe kinde of people.

Of basenesse of stocke. The v. Dialogue.

Sorowe.

I Am borne of base and obscure parentes.

Reason.

Thy state perhaps is not so odious, as thou supposest: I cannot tell whether it were a wished matter to bee borne obscure: consider thou bath wayes of life. For whether thou deter∣mine to followe pleasures, and the common way, whiche the vulgare sort doe ensue, the errour shalbe the more excusable which wanteth domesticall leaders, and then shall cease that most bitter improprietie of such as degenerate from their no∣ble parentes, in that thou hast no nobilitie at home which thou

maist make obscure. Or, if thou choose rather with singular steppes to followe the pathes of vertue, thou shalt by so much become the more noble, the greater the darknesse is, out of which thou art risen, wherewith before thou were oppressed & compassed round about, and so the whole nobilitie shalbe thine, and there shalbe none partaker thereof with thee. Imitation shall take from thee no part of thy glorie: thy parentes shall defraude thee of none, neither thy grandfathers nor great grandfathers, thy counsellers nor maisters: whatsoeuer thou hast done well, thou shalt reape the glorie thereof alone, thou onelie shalt be commended for it, and shalt be called the begin∣ner and first founder of thy familie, which could not be, if thou were borne noble. Doest thou see then what occasion thou hast offred vnto the••••of newe prayse: to wit, to become noble of thy selfe, and to g••••e nobilitie vnto others, not to receiue it? Thou shalt purchase this vnto thy posteritie, that they shalbe borne noble, which thy parentes gaue not vnto thee. It is a great deale better to founde nobilitie, than to finde it founded by o∣thers.

Sorowe.

My beginning is newe and rude.

Reason.

Howbeit, that shepheardlie founder of the citie of Rome was accompted more noble, for that hee builded his fort in the wooddes, and couered his small and base palace with poore thatch, than so manie princes and Emperours that came af∣terward, and erected their huge citie walles, their vautes and roughes of their houses of marble and golde: so great alwaies is the commendation of famous newnesse, and a great begin∣ning.

Sorowe.

I am borne of a base beginning.

Reason.

Studie then, that thine ende may be noble. About the begin∣nings is trauell, and in the ende commeth the fruite, whiche if it be gathered before it be ripe, it cannot long continue.

So∣rowe.

Vnnoblenesse hath cut of the roote of my glorie.

Rea∣son.

Nay, it hath not cut it of, but it hath digged it deeper a∣bout, that it may rise more stronglie, though more lately, How∣beit, I can recite vnto thee out of all sortes of men, some not vnnoble onelie, but vnknowne also, who through vertue and di∣ligence became most noble. And truelie if vertue make a man noble in deede, I do not perceiue what should lette anie man

that is willing to be made noble, or what thing is so easie to make other noble, as to make a mans selfe so.

Sorow.

I des∣cend from vnnoble parentes.

Reason.

What sayst thou to Socrates, Euripides, Demosthenes? Whereof the first had a Marbler to his father, the second a midwife to his Mother: the last was not only borne of base parentes, but also of vncertein. As for your countreiman Virgill, he descended of rude and ho∣mely parentes of the Countrie: neither was Horace ashamed that his father had bin sometime a bondman, and was made free, and also a common crier: notwithstanding they came both vnto great glorie, and obteined the fauour of a great Em∣perour, in such sorte, that he vnto whom all Kinges had sub∣mitted them selues, at whose handes all great thinges were sued for, and from whom the hope of all men, in a manner, throughout the whole world, but specially of the nobilitie, did depend, and finally, whose familiare acquaintance was repu∣ted a great matter, yea among the greatest men, euen he, I say, would require in sweet and flattring Epistles, as if it had bin some great matter, the friendeship and companie of these two vnnoble persons, whom the Mantuan & Venusine Countries had sent to Rome. And howe manie noble men were there, as we may iudge, at that time in the Palace (as for the most part there were plentie, that were vnprofitable & vnlearned,) vnto whom the nobilitie of these noble men did not seeme woorthi∣ly vnnoble and to bee enuied at?

Sorow.

I come of obscure parentes.

Reason.

These examples mooue not thy minde: I will therefore vse higher. Marcus Cicero, as it is written of him, being borne of the familie and race of knightes, from a lowe beginning by notable actes and honest degrees, came to the Consulship, thē whose time of Consulship, I can not tell whether there were euer any more profitable to the common wealth.

Sorow.

I come of a rustike and vnknowne race of an∣cestours.

Reason.

These are little worth I perceiue: thou aspirest now higher. Truly Marius was also a rusticane of the countrey, but a man in deede, as sayth his countrieman Ci∣cero, & had bin of long time an husbandman among the peo∣ple called Marsi, who was afterward seuen times Consul of

Rome, with so great glorie, that his saide countrieman, al∣though hee were his friende, said truelie, That hee twise de∣liuered Italie from besieging, and feare of seruitude. And Marcus Cato, a man of meane beginning, beeing long time an obscu••e inhabitant of a small Towne, and afterwarde a most famous stranger in the greatest Citie, shortly after, of an excellent citizen, was made Consull and Censor. But if this bee not ynough, and perhappes thou hopest for a king∣dome: truelie, neither doeth the basenesse of a mans begin∣ning forbidde him to hope for the same by sentence of desert: Herein call to remembrance the thirde, and the fift, and the sixt of the Romane Kinges. Tullus Hostilius, as approo∣ued authours doe write, although other some doe report no such matter of him, beeing an infant, was brought vppe in a poore cotrage, and in his youth was a sheephearde. Tarqui∣nius Priscus had to father a stranger Merchant, neither came of anie Italian familie. Seruius Tullus, was borne of a ser∣uile or bonde woman, although as some say, shee was a cap∣tiue, and as other affirme, a noble woman, and by meanes of his vertue, deserued the kingdome of Rome. Neither wilt thou maruell, if thou vnderstoodest the saying of Plato: That there is no King, but hee came of bonde men, and no bonde∣men, but hee descended of kinges. Thus the affaires of men, and thus long continuance and Fortune hath confounded all thinges. I say nothing of the kinges of other Nations, and of those, who from the flockes of cattell, and the exercise of most vile actes, haue ben aduaunced sode inlie vnto a king∣dome. Alexander the king of Macedonie, made a garde∣ner a king in Asia: and this was not one of the least commen∣dable actes which he did. And on the other side, I say nothing of them that haue fallen from the toppe of a kingdome vnto the bottome of seruitude. Thus Fortune gouerneth her af∣faires, notwithstanding vertue may do much: for by her, men rise safelie vnto the highest degrees, whose pathes being forsa∣ken, let princes know, that they stand in tickle state, and that not onelie their decaye is at hande, but also their ruine.

What calamitie then, that I may returne againe vnto thee, of birth is this from which neither hope of reigning, neither the effect is taken away?

Sorowe.

I am sprung from a base roote.

Reason.

Euerie roote is obscure and euill fauoured, from which neuerthelesse faire and flourishing branches doe spring forth: it is not so much demaunded from whence a thing commeth, as what manner of thing it is.

Sorowe.

I am des∣cended of base parentes.

Reason.

I perceiue that thou re∣uokest my style vnto the highest empire. Septimus Seuerus, of whom I spake before, sprong from the degree of knightes. Helius Pertinax, being also the sonne of a bondman made free, and a base traficquer in the trade of buying & selling of wood, did both of them gouerne the Romane Empire: as also did Philip the father and the sonne, being Arabians, of verie base condition and birth, and Maximinius and Maximus likewise, whereof the first was borne of most obscure and barbarous pa∣rentage, and were both ashamed when they had taken vppon them the gouernement of the Empire: and for the latter, whe∣ther his father were a smith or a carpenter, it is vncerteine. Verilie, Vespasian, who is reckoned among the good Empe∣rours, from no noble stocke, becomming most noble, both go∣uerned the common wealth worthily, and also left two sonnes behinde him, one succeeding another, to be his successours in the Empire, and the one of his vertue: howbeit, what doe I stay vpon these small matters, since there is much ambiguitie about the original and birth of Augustus Caesar him selfe? To be brief, certein it is, that the course of Mans fortune, is not preuented by birth: a man may rise by anie meanes, whether Fortune reache him her hande, or vertue.

Sorowe.

My stocke is to lowe and base.

Reason.

As much as concerneth the de∣gree of humane power, wee haue set downe examples, aboue which we cannot possiblie go higher: yet there resteth one, not for kingdome or Empire, but in respect of another certein ma∣iestie, verie memorable. Ventidius Bassus, an Esculane, bee∣ing borne of a base mother, and an vnknowen father, his coun∣trie being taken, and he a yong man, was in the triumphe of Gneius Pompeius Strabo, who was father vnto Pompeius

the great, brought away among other prysoners: the same man afterwarde, fortune chaungyng her countenance, beyng made ge∣nerall ouer the people of Rome, fought with most prosperous successe, agaynst the Parthian King, that was become proude by reason of his auncient power and late conquest, and hauyng slaine the Kinges sonne, and discomfited the power of the enemie, whi∣che thing the destinies had graunted before that tyme vnto none of the Romane captaines, taking reuenge on that famous slaugh∣ter of the Romans, & most magnificently requiting the death of the Crassi, hym selfe being a conquerer and triumphing, beau∣tified that Capitol with his owne charrets, wherin being a cap∣tiue, he had somtime furnished the triumphant charrets of ano∣ther, and filled the Romane prison with the armie of this captiue enemies. And that this spectacle might be the more acceptable, and the conquest more woonderfull, it was gotten the same day, as the course of the yeeres came about, vpon which the most ter∣rible slaughter was receiued at Carras. Who is so ambitious, and greedie of a kingdome, that he had not rather haue this glory without a kingdome, then a kyngdome without this glory? And what, I pray thee, hyndred Ventidius from atteynyng to felici∣tie and great honour, although he were borne of base stocke, and in the fyrst part of his lyfe were at lowe ebbe, and in miserie? Truely that man whom Esculum dyd contemne, Rome dyd re∣gard, and matched that obscure name of a stranger with the fa∣mous names of her noble Citizens. These are the steppes to rise by, these are the degrees vnto vertue, wherby men are ad∣uaunced, not only vnto glory and higher fortune, by endeuouring, hopyng, watchyng, but also enthronized within heauen. And therefore thou that art meanely borne, endeuour to ryse, restyng thy first and last step within the entrie vnto vertue, not declyning any whyther, nor staying.

Sorow.

My begynnyng is lowe.

Reason.

That is nowe past, thynke vppon the thynges that doo folowe: neyther am I ignorant, that as the first and last dayes of a mans lyfe haue seemed vnto some principally to go∣uerne the state of humane affayres, or as they speake, to compre∣hende and conteyne it: veryly I wyll easily agree vnto the first, although vnto the seconde I cannot so wyllyngly consent. For

although, as they affirme, it skilleth muche, with what good lucke a thyng be begunne: although the Satiricke Poet thynking vppon suche matters, hath thus written, where∣as he speaketh of Ventidius: For it auayleth muche, what constellation receiue a man when he beginneth to yeelde foorth his fyrst noyse, and commeth away redde from his mothers wombe. Notwithstandyng we deny these thinges, and these prosperous significations, and this so great force of the starres we renounce, ascribyng all thinges vnto the most gloryous Creatour of the starres, among whose creatures we seclude none from this path of vertue, felicitie, and glory.

Sorowe.

The basenesse of my stocke is very great.

Reason.

And what sayst thou to that? Wouldest thou rather haue thy pryde be muche? Or what hereby dooest thou thynke to be wantyng vnto thee, vn∣lesse thou wouldest also fayne declare thy madnesse, by the smoky images, and mangled statues that must be erected in thy courtes and galleryes, and as it were charnell house of thy predeces∣sours and familie, standyng full of rotten titles for a gazing stock to them that shall passe by, whereby thou mayest fabulous••y discourse with a proude looke in the open streates, of those whom thou neuer knewest?

Sorowe.

I am borne vnnoble.

Reason.

Not only to be borne vnnoble, but so to lyue also, haue seemed felicitie vnto some. Hast thou not read at least∣wyse in the Tusculane whiche Cicero hath erected, the A∣napaestus of the moste mightie Kyng, praysyng an olde man and callyng hym fortunate, in that he was ingloryous, and lyke to continue vnnoble and obscure vnto his lyues ende?

Of a shamefull byrth. The vi. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

MY byrth is not only base, but also shameful.

Reason.

There is one only true and great shamefulnesse of the mynde: yf thou take that away, all thynges are fayre.

Sorowe.

I am yll borne.

Reason.

He

that lyueth well, is borne well, and dyeth wel: But he that lyueth yll, cannot be well borne. For, what skylleth it in how bryght a path a blynde man walke? Or what auayleth it from whence a man come, yf he come into miserie and reproche?

Sorowe.

I was borne in sinne.

Reason.

The moste ex∣cellent man bewayleth this matter, and truely euery man is borne in syn. But beware that you heape not more grieuous synnes one vppon another, although there be also meanes to clense them: Howbeit that fyrst deformitie many tymes at the first entrance into this lyfe, is washed away in the sacred fountayne of Baptisme, and the soule by clensyng made as white as Snowe.

Sorowe.

My parentes ill beget me.

Reason.

What belongeth it vnto thee who haue begotten wel, so thou be wel borne, vnlesse thou ioyne thy wyckednesse vnto the wicked∣nesse of another.

Sorowe.

I am ashamed of my fylthy be∣gynnyng.

Reason.

Then doo I not marueyle that you be proude of that which is anothers, and also that you be ashamed of that which is not your owne: and generally yee repose your good and euyll thynges in any place or person, rather then in your selues, whiche notwithstandyng can be in none other then your selues. And vnlesse thou thy selfe hast committed some vyle and shamefull deede, what fault is there in thee, or what rebuke, to haue ha••de a dishonest father? Beware then, that thou be not heyre vnto thy father in his lewdnesse, but studie in that behalfe to be farre vnlyke hym. He that begate thee, thou not beyng priuie thereof, coulde not imprynt his spottes vppon thee agaynst thy wyll within thee, and from thee it muste needes come, that shall make thee obscure or no∣ble.

Sorowe.

I am borne into the worlde by dishonest parentes.

Reason.

All parentes ought to seeme ho∣nest vnto theyr chyldren, but as they are to be feared, so are they not all to be folowed of theyr chyldren: for some tyme I woulde geue them counsayle to forsake them. Thus muste thou otherwhyle take a contrary course, and yf he be a naturall father, he wylbe content to be forsaken, and wyll desyre to haue hym selfe loued, but not his faultes. This is only the deuised way, by whiche to suppresse and treade vnderfoote

theyr parentes name is a glorious and honest deede in the chyl∣dren, to lyue otherwyse then they dyd, that is to say, more conti∣nently, and holyly. Let the chyldes tongue conceale the parentes dishonestie, let not his vnlykenesse of lyfe, manners, and deedes, be silent. It is a great commendation to the sonne, when it shalbe sayde behynde his backe, O howe muche is this young man more modest then the olde man his father: and contrarywyse, there is no blemysh more greeuous in the wantonnesse of olde men, then to compare it with the continency of youth. And true∣ly, yf the honour of the parentes be burdensome to the chyldren that lyue yll, with howe great a weight dooth the prayse of the chyldrens honestie, presse downe the infamie of the yl lyuyng pa∣rentes?

Sorowe.

I was begotten in vnlawful and condem∣ned lust.

Reason.

But it were better for thee to haue a desire to be, and so to be reputed the honest sonne of an vnhonest father, rather then the vnhonest sonne of an honest father. For in all prayse or disprayse, those thinges are most chiefly to be regarded, whiche are a mans owne. There is no man iustly reproued or praysed for that whiche is anothers: although as I haue sayde, whatsoeuer is in you, it wyll be the more euident, yf it be set by his contrary. For, as euery one is worthyly praysed or dispray∣sed, so is the very and proper cause of prayse or disprayse within hymselfe. But as one man is slayne with anothers swoorde, and one mans goodes burned by another mans fire, so hapneth it not that one mans good name perisheth by another mans fault, for that the goods of the minde are more permanent then the goods of the body, or of fortune, so that they cannot be hurt or taken a∣way agaynst the wyl of the owner.

Sorow.

I was begotten agaynst ryght, and law.

Reason.

Thou hast doone nothyng agaynst the law, but thy parentes haue, and therefore hencefor∣ward do euery thyng according to the lawe. In this respect thou hast committed none offence at all concernyng thy birth houre, but of thine owne manners thou thy selfe shalt yelde an accompt. And although in reuenge of wandring venerie the force of the ciuyl lawes is extended vnto the innocent chyldren, notwith∣standyng GOD measureth euery one within his owne boundes, neyther imputeth the chyldes offence vnto the fa∣ther,

neyther the fathers vnto the chylde. And that Philoso∣phie iudgeth otherwyse of this matter then do the lawes, thou hast learned of the Philosophers them selues. Being then beaten downe by the lawes, and erected agayne by the iudge∣ment of GOD, and the Philosophers, thou hast wherewith to comfort thy mynde: neyther as thou art restrayned from a priuate patrimony, so art thou barred from the publique inheri∣taunce of vertue. For the one of these descendeth by the ordi∣naunce of man, the other is geuen by desart: and before thou were borne, as thou deseruedst no glory, so truely dyddest thou merite none infamie.

Sorowe.

Myne Originall is vn∣lawfull and incestous.

Reason.

What may be borne of in∣cest, or what of adulterie, for proofe be Romulus and Alcides. Perses was Kyng of Macedonie, and lugurtha Kyng of Numidia, and both of them expulsed theyr lawfull brethren out of theyr kyngdomes, by euyll vsage, and most vyle meanes, but they expulsed them notwithstandyng. Alexander Kyng of Macedonie, that was called Philippes sonne, yet whose in deede he was supposed to be, thou hast hearde, and also how Philip, towardes the latter ende of his lyfe, was woont some∣tyme to say, that Alexander was not his sonne. Whiche thyng his wyfe Olympias of her owne accorde confessed vnto hym, and for that cause he was diuorsed from her, as some aucthours haue written. Constantius hym selfe, beyng borne of a noble Concubyne, was aduaunced vnto the Empyre before his brethren that were lawfully begotten. Vnto these woulde I adde Kyng Arthure, vnlesse that to myngle Fables with Histories, were nothyng els then to dimyshe the credite of the trueth with lyes. To be short, there is no cause why thy byrth shoulde discourage thee: Howesoeuer men are borne, yf vertue aduaunce them, they haue glory yenough.

Sorowe.

I am yll borne.

Reason.

Lyue well, and dye well: how∣soeuer thou were borne, it belongeth not to thee, neyther canst thou remember it: neyther enquyre muche after that whiche belongeth not vnto thee, vnlesse it be to make thee more humble and mecke, but not more sorowfull.

Sorowe.

I was

borne fylthyly.

Reason.

Courteous behayour, and an honest lyfe, doo not only take away all blemyshes, but all re∣membrance of a shameful byrth. Ʋse this remedie while thou mayest, for beleeue me, thou hast none other.

Sorowe.

I am ashamed of my parentes infamie.

Reason.

Put away this shame, for there is one father of all men, whiche is GOD: and one mother of all men, whiche is the earth.

Of Bondage. The vii. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Entred a bondman into this lyfe.

Reason.

Be not sory, thou shalt depart a free man, yf thou wylt thy selfe, as many haue doone, who contrarywyse haue entred free, and depar∣ted bonde.

Sorowe.

I was seruylely borne.

Reason.

Lyue freely, there is nothyng letteth thee, for the better part of thee, to be free. There is one most grieuous kynde of bondage, whiche is synne, that is not able notwithstandyng to oppresse men agaynst theyr wylles: cast of that, and thou shalt be free.

Sorowe.

Fortune woulde needes make me a bondman.

Reason.

Thine owne wil may make thee otherwise, for although she vse her olde custome, neuerthelesse thou knowest what to hope for. Thou knowest what a monster she is, thou knowest her toyes and pastymes, it lyeth in thee not only to become a free man, but also Lorde ouer thy maister: although what she wyll or wyll not, it skylleth not, and albeit she be inexora∣ble, as some tyme she is, neuerthelesse she hath no power ouer the mynde: and in euery conflict agaynst her, we must re∣quyre ayde of her enimie. Many tymes whom fortune hath made bonde, vertue hath made free.

Sorowe.

I am op∣pressed with grieuous seruitude.

Reason.

Who so wyl∣lyngly beareth the yoke, maketh it lyght. I wyll tell thee a speciall comfort and an euerlastyng stay, whiche when thou art exempted from the controulement of thy mightie maister, wyll

make thee a free man, and rycher then thy maister hym selfe: apply the studie of wysedome, and she wyll set thee at liber∣tie. It is the saying of Cato, confyrmed by Cicero, That on∣ly the wyse man is free, namely, by that libertie, then which there is none more assured.

Sorowe.

I leade my lyfe vnder most harde maisters.

Reason.

They shalbe made gentle by no meanes more, then by faythfulnesse and dili∣gence, and perhaps in suche sort, whiche hath hapned vnto many, that therehence thou shalt gayne libertie, where nowe thou bewaylest thy bondage, and peraduenture by some other meanes, and from some other place. For some one is made free by his temporall maister, and some by the Eternall. Thou knowest, with howe great daunger Malchus escaped the threat∣nynges of his maister that persecuted hym, but neuerthelesse he escaped hym: In the meane whyle thynke thus of thy mai∣ster, that he maynteyneth thee, and hath taken vpon hym al the care ouer thee, whiche carefulnesse to leese a mans libertie, what is it to be called other then a profitable discommoditie? Ʋnto many, theyr libertie hath been bonde, and theyr bondage free. The yoke of men is not so greeuous, as the yoke of cares: who so can shake of the one, may indifferently beare the other. Ʋnto this man art thou a seruaunt, vnto hym art thou only bounde, yea he is bounde vnto thee, he is thy maister, or rather thy stewarde. Thou shalt not be aduaunced vnto publique pre∣fermentes, neyther shalt thou sustayne publique charges, nor counterfeite a careful mynde to the common wealth, thou shalt not be tossed with troubles and suites of Court and controuer∣sies, neyther be turmoyled with the vncertaynetie of aduise∣mentes, and counselles: no slownesse of saylyng, no barren∣nesse of f••eides, no dearth of victualles shall molest thee: These troubles leaue vnto thy maister, and many tymes thou shalt sleepe farre more soundly then be.

Sorowe.

I haue a frowarde and imperious Lorde.

Reason.

Thynke with thy selfe, that he was alotted vnto thee not without cause. Ther∣fore, whatsoeuer tust thyng he commaundeth, thynke that God hym selfe commaundeth it. But yf he commaunde any vniust thyng, it behooueth thee to thynke vppon the great Lorde,

who as he suffereth thee to be a seruant vnto honest though paine∣full affayres, so wyl he haue thee be free from dishonest: wher∣in this would I haue thee to vnderstande, that there is one that woulde haue the seruantes of the most glorious princes of the earth, and of the true religion, to be obedient vnto their carnal maisters in al thinges: and another that commaundeth them to be subiect vnto them in al feare, adding this moreouer, that they yeelde it not only vnto good and modest maisters, but also vnto the wicked, for it is not meete for the seruaunt to iudge of his maister, but to beare with his manners whatsoeuer they be. For the more outragious the maister is, the more appeareth the seruantes patience, and this is the cause, that the one of them maketh mention of this matter: but as they must suffer theyr manners, so ought they not alwayes obey theyr commaun∣dementes. For there are some thynges that may moste iustly be refused to be doone, yf they be repugnant to the pleasure of the heauenly Lorde and maister: with whom if this thine earth∣ly maister be compared, he is no longer thy maister, but thy fe∣low seruant, and so ought to be reputed. Thus therefore, let ser∣uantes obey their maisters in al thynges that they commaunde that are iust, let no payne nor difficultie stay them, no la∣bour hinder them, nor discourtesie nor rewarde denyed, or whiche is the moste bytter thyng of all, no punyshment inflic∣ted. Let them obey them in all thynges, so that iniury and dishonestie be away: otherwyse stubbornnesse and liber∣tie, and the brest and throate muste be set agaynst theyr vniust and dishonest commaundementes, and that muste be kept in remembraunce, whiche another of the promysers sayeth, who when he hadde commaunded that seruauntes shoulde obey theyr maisters in all thynges, he addeth, Not seruyng to the eye as men pleasers, but in singlenesse of hart, fearyng the Lorde. Hereby thou seest, what is the state of thy degree: he is not altogeather a seruaunt, that cannot be compelled to o∣bey wycked beheastes.

Sorowe.

I serue a proude Lorde.

Reason.

Howe knowest thou whether he serue the hyghest Lorde: Perhappes he is seruaunt to his wyfe, perhaps to his Harlot, perhaps to those that are vnder his gouernment:

how many see we dayly that are seruauntes vnto theyr vnder∣lynges: Last, whiche is the most greeuous bondage of all, per∣happes he is seruaunt to hym selfe, that is to say, to his owne vices, and passions, and violent affections. What shall I say: In trueth there are but fewe free, and those that are free, the more paynefull theyr lyfe is, the higher it is. It is muche more prompt and easie to accomplyshe the duetie of a ryghteous kyng, then of a faythfull seruaunt. It is an excellent saying of Diocletian while he was a priuate person and iudged of that which was past, and had learned muche by experience, That there is nothing more hard, then to gouerne an Empire: for whiche it may be thought he refused longer to be Emperour. Therefore embrace thou thy callyng gladly, whiche I confesse to be base and lowe, but easie and quiet, vnlesse thou thynke it an happier matter to stande panting in open syght, then to lye and rest in a chamber.

Sorowe.

My Fortune hath enforced mee into bondage.

Reason.

Doo that willingly, whiche thou must needes doo: that counsayle also is well knowen, and most fyt for humane necessi∣ties, Desyre that, which thou must needes, and so thou shalt frustrate the force of necessitie: beare the burden of Fortune patiently, whiche some haue doone of theyr owne accorde, and haue chosen to be bonde them selues, to delyuer other from bondage. Among whiche sort, most famous is the name of Paulinus Byshop of Nola, whose voluntarie seruitude, as it ought, had happie suc∣cesse. Certayne haue solde them selues for a small price, to the en∣tent that beyng made bonde, they myght redeeme their maisters from the bandes of sinne, and bryng them into true libertie, for whiche deede one Serapion an Egyptian Eremite, is muche renowmed: These examples shall doo thee more good, then mo∣nynges. Attempt thou some suche lyke matter, by meanes whereof thy seruitude may be profitable to others, or at leastwyse to thy selfe. Not to wyshe for that whiche thou hast not, but to vse well that whiche thou hast, is the part of a wyse man. The one of these hapneth vnto all men, the other but to fewe.

Sorowe.

I beyng a mortall man, am seruaunt to a mortall Maister.

Reason.

Begynne to serue the immortall Lorde: he promiseth thee libertie and a kyngdome, although

also whyle thou continuest in this state, thou art not restrayned from exercising good artes, and hopyng for better: and Te∣rence also was a seruaunt, and learned with no seruile disposi∣tion, and wrote Comedies with no seruile style, whereby he de∣serued libertie, and to be numbred among the chiefe Poetes. By what meanes then is it possible, that seruice shoulde be any imped••ment vnto vertue, whiche is an absolute good of the minde, since it can neyther hynder externall studies, nor out∣warde glorie? Plato hym selfe was carryed into bondage, and yet it is written, that the Philosopher was greater then he that bought hym: truely a woorthie profession, that maketh the seruaunt greater then his Maister. And doubt∣lesse a learned seruaunt, is in this respect greater then his vn∣learned Maister, by howe muche the mynde is greater then any Fortune: and many tymes a bonde mynde dwelleth in a free bodye, and a free mynde in a bonde bodye. Bondage may be a lette vnto the affayres of the iudiciall court, but not of the mynde. The court refuseth a seruaunt: but vertue, dili∣gence, and trustinesse doo not refuse hym. Tiro was seruaunt vnto Cicero, but by this meanes obtaynyng his libertie, he lefte vnto posteritie an excellent Booke of his Maisters iestes and merimentes. A seruaunt can not be a Generall of an Ar∣mie, nor a Senatour, but he may be a Philosopher, an O∣ratour, a good man, yea, and also some tyme castyng of his seruitude, he may be a Kyng and an Emperour: and we haue knowen some aduaunced from this degree, not onely to a Kyngdowe and Empire, but also vnto Heauen it selfe. A bond∣man can not serue in warfare vnder man, but he may serue GOD, the wages of whose seruice in warfare, is to reigne. The seruaunt of GOD is Kyng ouer all men, felowe with Angelles, a terrour to Deuylles. The seruaunt of GOD may also be seruaunt to man: and thus worldly seruice is no hun¦deraunce to the heauenly felicitie.

Sorowe.

I am a Ser∣uaunt.

Reason.

If thou hast alwayes been so, custome may asswage thy griefe: If not, hope that thou mayest one day not be that, whiche some tyme thou wast not.

Sorowe.

I am a seruaunt.

Reason.

If thou hope for an ende of thy

miserie, let thy hope diminishe thy sorowe. But yf thou des∣payre, let patience mitigate it, and heape not one mischiefe vppon another, neyther vexe thy selfe to no purpose willingly and wittingly, whiche were the greatest poynt of follie that is incident to the lyfe of man. But a man must not despayre, for when all thynges be wantyng, death wyll come at the length, who in despite of thy Maister, wyll loose thee, and set thee at libertie.

Of pouertie. The .viii. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Am oppressed with pouertie, that I can not ryse.

Reason.

Pouertie hath many tymes perswaded modestie to an vnwyl∣lyng mynde, and that whiche Philosophie hath attempted in vayne, this hath brought to passe.

Sorowe.

Pouertie besie∣geth myne entrie.

Reason.

Shee besiegeth it not, but kee∣peth it, neyther is this a strange and vnaccustomable thyng, for in tymes past shee preserued the Citie of Rome many hundred yeeres. For among the tentes of sober and carefull pouertie, flouthfull wantonnesse, sluggyshe sleepe, and weake and effemi∣nate vices doo entre.

Sorowe.

Pouertie hath inuaded my house.

Reason.

I aduertise thee to meete her willingly, re∣ceyuyng and embracyng her with vnfolded armes, and a cheare∣ful countenance. And though at the fyrst encounter she appeare some deale sharpe and bytter, and not without cause to be compa∣red vnto a wayfaryng man, and one that is armed at all poyntes, for that her commyng is speedie and threatnyng: notwithstan∣dyng, when she is once receyued into familiaritie, she wyll be a gheast nothing sumptuous, but quiet and gentle.

Sorowe.

Po∣uertie rappeth at my doore.

Reason.

Open then vnto her speedily, before that by sudden force she breake the barres, and pluckyng the doore from the hookes, she enter in lyke a conque∣rour: For, as she is very greeuous vnto those that withstand her, so is she very pleasant vnto them that geue her place.

Sorowe.

Pouertie hath broken vp my house.

Reason.

Shee is a pas∣syng

diligent watcher agaynst Theeues, and Pleasures, whiche are woorse then theeues, agaynst the girdes and absurd iudge∣mentes of the common people, and also agaynst the infamie of couetousnesse or prodigalitie, whiche seldome sitteth in any other place then the entries of the ryche: From these euylles can thy house by no meanes be better preserued, then yf pouertie guard it. And euen as yf a man be franke, yet yf he reserue any thyng to him selfe, he is commonly tearmed couetous: so yf he be poore, he shal be counted greedie to haue. It is the maner of neere neigh∣bours to enuie at wealth, & to pitie pouertie. The one they desyre and disprayse, the other they commende and abhorre.

Sorowe.

Pouertie hath possessed my house.

Reason.

Now shal there be no place with thee for pryde, nor for enuie, nor for notable losses, nor for the feare of losses, nor for a thousand kindes of suspitions, nor for deceite, nor for surfect and loathsomnesse, nor for the Gout that is a gheast among the ryche: all whiche being shut out of doores, reste, quietnesse, and vertue, shall haue larger enter∣taynement with thee, who shall haue the more roomth, the lesse that thy wealth is.

Sorowe.

Hard pouertie hath entred my house.

Reason.

I knowe what thou meanest: ryches shoulde haue entred more pleasantly, but pouertie more safely. There are no riches, before whom securitie is not to be preferred. For when all thynges whatsoeuer men doo or desyre, are directed vnto fe∣licitie: surely it may consist without ryches, but not without secu∣ritie.

Sorowe.

I haue been long tyme oppressed with impor∣tunate pouertie.

Reason.

As no importable thyng can long be borne, so is there no short thyng difficult. But thou wylt say this is hard: examine it with ryches, doest thou make more ac∣compt of golde then of vertue? Hast thou not learned among the Paradoxes of the Sto••kes, That onely a wyse man is ryche? Or perhappes hast thou read it, and not regarded it? Whiche thyng most readers doo, to the ende to talke more finely, not to lyue more vertuously, applying nothyng vnto honestie, but refer∣ryng all to knowledge and eloquence, then whiche nothyng is more vayne.

Of Domage sustayned. The .ix. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

CRuell Fortune hath bereft me of all my ryches.

Reason.

Shee hath done thee no iniurie, for she hath taken but her owne: but this is an auncient and common vnthankeful∣nesse, to forget what was geuen you, and to remember what is taken away. And therefore your thankes are fewe and colde, and your complaintes many and feruent.

Sorowe.

Fierce For∣tune hath taken also away the things that are necessary for liuing.

Reason.

No man can take away the thyngs that are necessarie, forasmuche as nothyng is cruely to be called necessarie, without whiche a man may lyue wel. I say, lyue wel, not voluptuously, not insolently, or gorgiously, but wysely, but soberly, but honestly: wherein Fortune, be she neuer so proud, shal confesse that she hath no right. And truely, although desire of hauing, is not satisfied with al the golde that is in the worlde, and all the pompe of preci∣ous stones, and plentie of all maner of thinges, notwithstanding, natural necessitie is contented with verie litle, that may be gotten by some lyght meanes of the tongue, or exercise of the hand: thus vertue is pleased with a verie litle, & vice with nothing.

Sorowe.

Couetous Fortune denyeth me necessarie foode and apparrell.

Reason.

Thou must get it then some where els. Vertue is more liberal then Fortune, for she denieth a man nothyng, but whiche wyll hurt yf it be graunted, and doo good, yf it be forbydden: shee taketh away nothyng, but which wyl hurt to haue it, and is pro∣fitable to loose it: shee deferreth nothyng, shee commaundeth no∣thyng, shee plucketh not backe her hande, shee frowneth not, shee looketh not strangly, shee despiseth no man, she forsaketh no man, shee deceyueth no man, shee chafeth not, shee rageth not, shee changeth not, shee is alwayes one, and euery where, but that the more she is tasted of, the sweeter shee seemeth, and the neerer shee is beholden, the fayrer euery day then other shee appeareth. That thou mayest therefore be ryche in deede, let nothyng carrie thee away from this affliction, or repell thee, although it doo exer∣cise and molest thee: the fyrst entraunce vnto it is harde, as for the residue, it is redie, pleasant, and easie. For when thou art once

come vnto it, thou shalt not feele pouertie.

Sorowe.

For∣tune hath spoyled mee of all my goodes.

Reason.

Thou supposest amisse, this mischiefe is commune to all men: for truely she hath not spoyled thee of any goodes, or yf they were goodes, they were none of thyne, but whiche perhappes, af∣ter the common accompt, thou thoughtest to be thyne: and I marueyle yf thou knowe not yet that they were anothers.

Sorowe.

Fortune hath lefte mee bare and needie.

Reason.

Vertue wyll apparrell thee, vnlesse thou refuse her, and also en∣rytche thee, vnlesse perhappes thou esteeme more of Golde and Purple, then of honestie, and the furniture of a valient minde: whiche yf thou doest, then would I say that thou were verie poore and bare in deede.

Sorowe.

There is no meanes sufficient to saue me agaynst the assault of Fortune, and troubles of pouertie.

Reason.

Why marueylest thou? All thy cunning, and thy wea∣pons wherewith thou thinkest to defend thy selfe, are in thyne eni∣mies hand. Shee holdeth fast the handle, the poynt is turned to∣wardes thee. If thou seeke for aduice, set these thynges asyde, and doo some thyng els, and apply thy minde vnto those studies wherein Fortune hath nothing to doo. Vertue is not gotten by ryches, but ryches by Vertue. Only Vertue is the most soueraine art agaynst all fortunes and pouertie. Thou hast read, howe that the Philosopher Aristippus, being cast vp by shypwracke vpon the Rhodian shoare, beyng bare and destitute of all those thinges which Fortune can eyther geue or take away, and delighted with the strangenesse of the place, as it hapneth often tymes, glaun∣cyng his eyes about, had by chaunce fastened them vppon cer∣tayne Geometrical descriptions, crying then out aloude, he com∣forted his companions, and byd them be of good cheere, for that they had not fallen vpon any desart or forlorne Countrey, for that he beheld there the foote steppes and tokens of men: from thence entryng into the Citie, he got him directly vnto the Schooles, and places of exercise of learnyng: where, by meanes of his disputations among the Philosophers, he fyrst wonne ad∣miration, and afterwarde gayned the friendshyppe and re∣wardes of the greatest personages, whereby he prouided meate and drynke, and apparrell, and other necessaries for trauayle, not

onely for him selfe, but also for his companie. Who when they were departyng, demaundyng of hym what they shoulde say to any of his friendes when they came home, notably byd them say this one thyng: that they shoulde prepare those ryches for theyr chyldren, whiche can not peryshe by shypwracke, whiche neyther tempest by Sea, in ciuile or martiall affayres can take away.

Sorowe.

I am destitute both of goodes, and mynde.

Reason.

This fyrst maketh thee lyght, the second, poore in deede and wret∣ched. But I suppose thou hast read the saying of Theophras∣tus, aswel as the counsayle of Aristippus: but what auayleth it thee to haue read a thyng onely, vnlesse thou also remember it, and put it in practice?

Sorowe.

Beyng spoyled of my house, familie, necessaries, and all myne ornamentes, what shall I doo, or whyther shall I turne my selfe?

Reason.

Vnto those ryches whereof thou canst not be spoyled, whiche accompanying thee whyther so euer thou goest, wyll make thee ryche and well furnished. And for that mee thynketh I had neede to helpe thy memorie, this is the saying of Theophrastus, whereof I made mention erewhyle, That among all sortes of men, a learned man onely is no stranger when he commeth into a forraine Countrey, neyther is destitute of friendes when he hath lost his Familiars and Kinsefolke, but is a Citizen in euery Citie, and canne valiently contemne the chaunces of Fortune without feare: but he shoulde thynke hym selfe to be defended not by the guarde of learnyng, but of felicitie, that he walketh vppon slip∣perie, not stable steppes, but wreastleth with a feeble lyfe.

Sorowe.

I had an inheritaunce from my Father, whiche I haue lost, What shall I nowe doo?

Reason.

There discende two inheritaunces from the Father: the one of transitorie goodes, whiche is gouerned by Fortune, the other of Vertue and lear∣nyng, whiche is so farre reposed in safetie out of the king∣dome of Fortune, that shee can not hurt it. This is that inheritaunce which most louyng fathers doo specially leaue vnto their children, which vnlesse they doo refuse it, doth adorne the pos∣sessours thereof in the ende, and after the ende of their lyfe, con∣tinuyng with them not onely so long as the other, but also muche more comfortably and durably. Whiche thyng well

knowyng the Citie of Athens, the famous mother of Nurture, Eloquence, and Lawes, when as the lawe of all the other Cities of Greece, without exception, compelled the chyldren to succour and relieue their parentes, she ordeyned, that those parentes only shoulde be relieud, that had caused their chyldren to be brought vp in learnyng, for that they onely shoulde leaue an assured and permanent inheritaunce vnto their chyldren.

Sorowe.

I want many thynges to lyue withall.

Reason.

To whom a fewe thynges may be sufficient, how he shoulde want many, I can not see. But you say ye want that to lyue withall, whiche is wanting to your couetousnesse, whereby it commeth to passe, that ye want not onely many thynges, but all thynges, as well that ye haue, as that ye desyre, in that ye dare not touche the one, neyther can attayne to the other, and in eyther respect, is lyke miserie or pouertie.

Sorowe.

I lyue in too poore estate.

Reason.

Comfort thy hart, with thy great and famous companions: Valerius Publicola, one of the aucthours of the Romane liber∣tie, Menenius Agrippa, purchaser of the Romane tranquilitie, because they had nothyng wherewithall to burie them of theyr owne, had it out of the common treasurie. Paulus Aemilius con∣querour of the Macedonian kinges, and destroyer of that most famous and auncient kingdome, beyng so riche in glory as he was, was so poore in money, that vnlesse this most valient mans Landes had been solde, his wyues Dower could not haue been restored. Attilius Regulus, Cueus Scipio, Quintius Cincin∣natus, defenders of the Romane Empire, were so poore, yea in housholde prouision, that the fyrst of them atchiuing great ex∣ploites in Africa, the seconde in Spayne, the one of them because of the death of his Farmer, the other for the Dower of his Daughter, were both constrayned to make suite to be discharged from the Senate, whiche they had obtayned, but that the Senate prouiding better for the state of the Common wealth, dyd relieue the pouertie of those most excellent Citizens. Vnto Quintius, whyle he was earyng his poore foure Acres of Land, by decree of the Senate and people of Rome, in the tyme of extremitie, the whole gouernment of the state was committed. Vnto these may be added Curius, who was ryche by his Garden, and

Fabritius that was mightie with a litle, who contemnyng pro∣fered ryches, and hauyng nothyng but ryche weapons, ryght handes, and most rych myndes, vanquished the Kyng of Greece, and the most valient people of Italie. They were aswell in∣uincible with golde, as with iron. But what speake I of cer∣teyne Citizens, when as the whole people of Rome, beyng the fountayne and example of a notable Historie, was good so long, as I began to say, as it was a poore people? But Nero beyng drowned in lasciuiousnesse and reproches, was not able to mea∣sure or reckon his goodes. But Varius Heliogabalus the most effeminate and fylthy beast that euer lyued, and the shame of your Empyre, a shameful thyng to speake or heare, woulde vouchsafe to haue the loathsome ordu•••• and burden of his belly to be receyued into none other vessell then of golde: a thyng not to be ouerslypped, yf it were but to set foorth the irkesome and outragious desire of mortall men: When as he well remem∣bred, that not only the meales and dayly dyet of suche men as the aboue named are, but also the sacrifices of the Gods were woont to be serued and celebrated in earthen vesselles. O miserable Citie in continuaunce of tyme by destiny fallen vnto so fylthy handes: But rather O golde the extreame desire of couetous∣nesse: O hope that art the last and ende of humane trauayles, thou that art the woonder vnto eyes, and the amazyng vnto myndes, to what vses wast thou conuerted? I woulde commend the deede, or at leastwyse not reprooue it, for that there is no moc∣kerie more meete for so shameful errour of man, yf so be it hadde proceeded from a man of sounde iudgement, and perfect reason: but now who dareth deny, but that goodes are excellent, and to be wished, which men doo in suche sort seeke after with swoorde and wickednesse, whyle neglectyng the best, they abounde with the worst?

Sorow.

I passe foorth a poore life in trauel.

Reason.

Cleantes was constrayned by neede to drawe water to water hearbes in a garden withal, and Plautus to lift vp sackes & corne vpon a hand querne. How great a Philosopher was the one, and the other a Poet? and againe, how poore a gardiner was the first, and the other a baker? Who both after their woorke was doone, the residue of the night wherein they should haue taken their rest,

suche was the courage of theyr mynde, the one applyed his tyme vnto the studie of Philosophie, the other to the wrytyng of Commedies, that he myght sell them for money. Lac∣tancius Firmianus, a man of great learning, and rare eloquence among his compeeres, beeyng also schoolemaister vnto the sonne of a great Prince, led his lyfe in great pouertie of all thynges, yea of common necessaries. Horace was borne poore, Pacunius lyued poorely, Statius was poore: both of them solde theyr Comedies, and thereby gotte theyr lyuyng. To be short, Virgill also was sometyme a poore man, vntyll contrary to the common custome, ryches hapned vnto his wit. There be many such examples in al degrees of men: and I omit these, because there are very many, who for the desire they hadde vnto heauenly ryches, haue not only with indifferent myndes, but gladly and wyllyngly, chosen not only pouertie, but also hun∣ger, thyrste, nakednesse, and all kyndes of miseries vppon the earth. If that by these as it were humble and earthly examples thou art not mooued, the Lorde of heauen hym selfe was here in poore estate, that he myght teache by his example, that this po∣uertie is the way whereby men attayne vnto great ryches. He, I say, by whom Kynges doo reigne, was borne in pouertie, lyued in pouertie, dyed naked, whom in the meane whyle al the Elementes obeyed: and thou sellie wretche doest grieuously beare the state of thy Lorde and maister, and art not ashamed of thy foolyshe insolencie. Certaynely, who so thynkyng on hym, shall arme hym selfe with vertue, being very riche in pouertie and needyng nothyng, wyll not desyre a Kynges riches.

Sorowe.

I haue no store of riches.

Reason.

As no riches are sufficient for a needie and base mynde, so vnto a ryche and franke courage no pouertie commeth amisse: as for the first, he leaneth vnto that whiche is anothers, but he of whom I spake last, trusteth vnto his owne: to builde vppon ano∣ther mans grounde is a losse, but to builde vppon his owne is a vantage.

Sorowe.

I am very poore.

Reason.

If thou obey necessities, thou canst neuer be poore: but if thou be subiect to lustes, thou shalt neuer be riche.

Sorowe.

Hytherto I haue ben poore, yea I am a very begger.

Reason.

Mens fortune

and state dooth not continue: for as from great riches vnto ex∣treame pouertie, so from extreame pouertie vnto great ryches, there is often exchange. I suppose thou hast read in Quintus Curtius the Historian, how one, called Abdolominus, at the commaundement or rather permission of Kyng Alexander, from a poore gardyner was aduaunced vnto the kingdome of Si∣don, and by contemning the kingdome, is reputed greater then the kyngdome. Truely, whiche thou canst not choose but haue read, Romulus, from a shepheards cottage becomming the foun∣der of so great a citie, was the first that tooke vppon hym the Romane Crowne, and the sixt Kyng ascended vnto the Kingly dignitie, from a very base, and as some haue thought, from a ser∣uyle degree: neither more wealthie was the rising of Alexan∣der sonne to King Priamus, nor of Cyrus the most famous of al the Persian Kinges, neyther were their beginnings much other then was that of Romulus. Gaius Marius, who had ben, and shoulde haue been often Consull of Rome, before he atteyned vnto any of these degrees of honour, being an hyrelyng plough∣man, spent the first yeeres of his lyfe in the fieldes, and at length after so many victories and triumphes, and betweene those seuen times that he was Con••ul, besides his hydyng of him selfe in the Fennes, and his imprisonment, he begged also a litle peece of bread. Iulius Caesar, that shoulde afterwarde be Lorde of all the worlde, and by his Testament dispose it vnto his heyres that shoulde be Lordes of al the worlde after hym, was poore when he was a young man. Thou hauyng the company and felowship of suche woorthie men, canst thou not eyther hope for ryches, or contemne them?

Sorowe.

I am waxen poorer then I was.

Reason.

It is well: thou shalt also be more hum∣ble, light, and at libertie, then thou wast. They that goe on a daungerous iourney, loue to goe lyght. Thou shalt want thine accustomed ryches, and thy Myse, and thy Theeues, and thy stubberne Seruauntes, and all other thynges that folowe wealth, feygned friendes, folowyng and catchyng Parasites, and all the whole housholde flocke of those that wyll laugh with thee to thy face, but wyll mocke and byte thee behynde thy backe. To be short, yf thou compare thy lost ryches with

the troubles that thou hast lost also with them, thou wylt call it agayne. Surely to speake nothyng of securitie, humilitie, sobrie∣tie, quietnesse, modestie, whiche are the companions of pouertie, yf she brought none other commoditie with her, then that she de∣liuereth a man from the troupes of deceiptful flatterers, and from the tyrranny of proude seruantes, there were cause sufficient not only to suffer her, but also to wyshe for her, yea, to seeke after po∣uertie. But let this suffise thee: for thou complaynest more then neede is, whereat I woulde woonder in thee, vnlesse I had obser∣ued it of long tyme in all men, that there is nothyng whereof they doo more grieuously, and more often complayne: so that there is nothyng among men better, nothyng more hatefull then pouer∣tie.

Sorow.

I am poorer in lyfe.

Reason.

Thou shalt be gladder in death. There was neuer any man liuyng so poore, but when he was dying, coulde haue been contented to haue liued poorer.

Of thinne Fare. The x. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

MY fare is thinne.

Reason.

Then is thy pleasure thin, and thy sobrietie clenly. Wouldest thou, vpon desire to glut thy lust, and to satisfie thy deynty mouth, wyshe the contrary?

Sorowe.

I fare hardly.

Reason.

Take it in good part that thou wantest the prouocations of appetite, seeyng thou hast in a redynesse those that are sweeter, and easier both to be gotten, and to be kept: For vertue hath also her enticementes. I vse nowe Tullies woorde. When thou shalt once begyn to chaw and taste of these, thou wylt not much passe for the other.

Sorowe.

My fare is harde.

Reason.

Hardnesse is friende vnto vertue, and delicie vnto vice. Howe many excellent men wyllyngly abandonyng pleasures, haue chosen this kynde of fare whiche thou myslykest? Whereof some when they myght haue fared deyntyly, tooke pleasure ra∣ther in feastyng with bread and water? Shal we iudge any man to be so wedded to pleasure, that woulde not extreamely

hate her, yf he coulde beholde with his eyes the sh••me that is wyned with her? But sweetnesse is a pernicious thyng, a dead∣ly enimie vnto vertue, and a beastly ticklyng, whiche who so pursueth, may be a man in shewe, but in deede is a bruite beast. Moreouer, the familiaritie whiche is contracted with vices, and the accustomyng vnto them whiche is very hurtefull, casteth a myst before mens eyesight, that they are not able to discerne how fayre that is whiche grieueth them, and how foule that whiche delighted them.

Sorowe.

My fare is to short.

Reason.

Nay rather it is to sumptuous, and thy throate is to wyde. The same to see to, is but a narrowe way, and in deede but one way, notwithstandyng it is a wyde open way for all vyces to runne in by vnto the foule. By this way the flame of lustes, the dulnesse of the wyt, the rage and fury of anger and chydyng doo enter in, and so dooeth also imperious desyre to haue, whiche com∣maundeth you to suffer and doo all thynges, so that you thynke them necessary, when as in deede they be hurtfull, and you call that the staye of your lyfe, whiche is the ouerthrowe thereof. By this way enter in the firebrandes of enuie, and the impla∣cable emulation, with disdeyning myndes, vauntyng that there be other that serue theyr throate and belly aswell as you, see∣kyng for prayse there, where as shame were to be feared. To be short, by this way entreth pryde, whylest the swellyng belly that cannot receyue it selfe, communicateth his swellyng vnto the mynde, and perswadeth hym that he is of some greater callyng then a man, for that he hath been fedde with Ambrosia and Necta••, the meate and drynke of the Goddes. Thus thou seest howe one vyce is the entrie vnto all, and yet yf it can be shut by none other meanes, thou art not willyng that it be made fast with the barres of pouertie. O amiable pouertie, that ta∣kest vppon thee the office of continencie: it is profitable for thee to be compelled vnto that, whiche thou oughtest to doo of thyne owne accorde.

Sorowe.

My slender dyet maketh me leaue.

Reason.

Haddest thou rather then to swell? This leauenesse wyl dryue the Goute out of thy boundes, it wyll take awaye the head ache, and the gyddynesse of the brayne, and vomityng, and the hycket, and the lothsomnesse of

the stomacke, and sweatyng, and weerysomnesse of thy selfe, the sudden alteration of colour from palenesse to rednesse, it wyll also helpe the strong smel of the breath, and of the whole body that is noysome vnto thy selfe, and others. Moreouer, it wyll moderate and represse the vnstablenesse of thy feete, the tremblyng of thy handes, the shakyng of thy head, and whiche is chiefe of all, it wyll stay thy mynde it selfe. Wherefore then do∣est thou complayne, since that thou hast gotten so many commo∣dities of the body and mynde, by wantyng of meate, and the smal discommoditie of the sense of tastyng, beyng woorthie to loose them, and to be bondslaue vnto taste only.

Sorowe.

Thynne dyet weeryeth me.

Reason.

The contrary woulde make thee weery, vnlesse perhaps thou call payne an ease, Hast thou not read, that the weerysomnesse of the delicate lyfe is great, inso∣muche that it coulde not be abidden the space of fyue dayes togea∣ther by men of temperate dyet, and suche as aspire vnto hygher matters then are the throate and the belly?

Sorowe.

My fare is thyn aboue measure.

Reason.

There was an age, when as there was here, and yet is, a nation, among whom was most gal∣lant fare, but when the worlde was waxen woorse, you endeuou∣red also to be worst of all, beyng alwayes the aucthours of the publique decay and ruine: so that you that were the best of all other, now turnyng your footesteppes contrarywyse, are become woorst of all men, and among the vices of tyme and places pos∣sesse the hyghest degree.

Sorowe.

My thyn dyet pleaseth me not.

Reason.

The louers and patrones both of vertue and pleasure, doo commend a thyn dyet: what false opinion thou hast embrased, I doo not knowe. Plato condemneth the Syracusian feastes, and banquettes, and sayth that he lyketh not to haue the belly filled twyce in a day. Epicurus setteth his pleasure and de∣light in his Hearbes and sallettes, and this diet whiche thou mis∣lykest, he aloweth in woordes and deede: Finally, as Cicero say∣eth, there was neuer man sayde more of the thyn dyet. If thou regarde not the most famous ryngleaders of two sectes, what re∣mayneth, but that through the heate of thyne errour, thou folow loathsome gurmandize, whiche is enimie vnto vertue, and not friende to pleasure, whiche is a filthie ende rather of a beast then

of a man: and moreouer, whiche I speake with disdayne and griefe, beastes truely deuour muche, but it is accordyng to the re∣ceipt of theyr bellies: but you only, that are the Lordes ouer al lyuing creatures, both know not your owne proportion, and al∣so exceede it. Neither is it for naught that many doo marueyle, why in the remembrance of our fathers and grandfathers there were farre fewer Vineyardes then be nowe, but as many men or rather moe, and yet notwithstandyng Wines were then solde better cheape: the reason is, the thyrst of the drunken sort hath euery day since encreased more and more.

Sorowe.

From great fare I am fallen to small.

Reason.

It is fortuned wel, that penury hath fulfilled that, whiche modestie neglected. It is best for a man to doo that wyllingly whiche he ought to doe, and the next to do it, though it were constraynedly.

Of Original Pouertie. The .xi. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

YEA, I was borne in pouertie.

Reason.

Who commeth not naked out of his mothers wombe? In this matter kinges haue no preheminence.

Sorowe.

I was poore before I was borne.

Reason.

Thou hast a good memorie yf thou doo remember it, and a most delicate fee∣lyng yf thou diddest perceiue it.

Sorowe.

I was begotten in pouertie.

Reason.

Dooth this complaint any thyng auayle thee? It was not long of thee, but of thy parentes.

Sorowe.

I was borne in pouertie.

Reason.

And shalt likewise dye in pouertie: thy end shalbe lyke thy beginning, vnlesse perhaps thou thinke that the golde which thou hast in the bottome of thy cheast, wyl cure thy sicknesses when thou liest a dying.

Sorow.

The be∣ginning of my life was in pouertie.

Reason.

The middle many times possesseth false riches, but the beginning & ending are very pouertie: to be borne naked, & to die naked, is the necessitie of hu∣mane condition. For what, I pray you, auayleth y^e chamber hung with purple, & the funeral bed gilden, and whatsoeuer other pride the ambition of mankind hath deuised, when a man is departyng

out of this worlde? What haue these thynges to doo, or what ap∣perteyne they to the Ague, or to death it selfe whereof we speake, or the nakednesse of them that dye? Is it so, that as trappings & gallant furniture pleaseth an Horse, so doo the costly hangynges delight the walles? These thynges may please the eyes of the beholders? In thynges that lacke sense, there may be some what that may delight others, but them selues can take no pleasure in any thyng.

Sorowe.

I was borne naked and poore.

Reason.

Varietie of fortune dooth alter almost all worldely thynges: the same also maketh many of them equall and of lyke degree, where∣by she may bryng comfort vnto the inequalitie of the residue: the greatest and chiefest wherof, is this equalitie of byrth, and death. Many and sundry are the sortes of apparrell whiche the lyuyng doo weare, but nakednesse only belongeth vnto them that are borne, and dye, but that the first sort doo fynde out many thynges vpon ignorance, and the other forsake all thynges wittyngly, so that the knowledge of transitorie thynges, ought to qualyfie the sense of so small a losse.

Sorowe.

Naked dyd I enter into this wretched lyfe.

Reason.

Whyle thou thynkest on that, thou shalt depart naked with a more indifferent minde.

Of the heauie burden of many chyldren. The .xii. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Am ouerburdened with many chyldren.

Reason.

With gold and siluer also weake shoulders may be ouerlayed, howe∣beit no man wyll complayne of it, but wyll be glad to be so burdened. But as for chyldren, they are accounted among the chiefest gyftes of your felicitie. Dooest thou say then that thou art ouerburdened, and not rather lyghtened by them?

Sorowe.

I am a poore man among many chyldren.

Reason.

Nay rather, thy chyldren are thy ryches: then howe thou canst be poore in the myddes of ryches, see thou. For this happeneth but only vnto couetous men, and those that are vnthankefull for theyr goodes.

Sorowe.

Among a company of chyldren; I

liue in beggerlie neede.

Reason.

Chyldren are not a toyle, but an ease vnto their Parentes, an appeasyng to theyr griefes, and a comfort in all fortunes, yf they be good: otherwyse there is no complaynyng of their number, but of their manners.

Sorowe.

I am hemmed in with an armie of Chyldren.

Reason.

And why not rather accompanied, defended, and beautified? Truely not Fathers onely, but Mothers also doo terme chyldren theyr Iewelles. Hast thou not hearde, howe Cornelia that was daughter vnto Africane the great, when as a very ryche Gentlewoman of Campania, who by chaunce lodged in her house, womanlyshly glorying she∣wed her her most precious and fayre Iewelles, prouokyng Cornelia as it were vnto emulation, of very purpose pro∣longed that talke, vntyll suche tyme as her chyldren shoulde returne from Schoole, who then were but lytle boyes, but af∣terwarde proued excellent men: Whom when theyr mother behelde, turnyng her selfe towardes her gheast, These, quoth shee, are my Iewelles. Notably well sayde true∣ly, and as it became the daughter of so woorthie a fa∣ther: but these thy ornamentes, thou tearmest impedi∣mentes.

Sorowe.

Who is able to feede so manie chyl∣dren.

Reason.

He that feedeth thee from thy youth vnto thyne olde age, who feedeth not onely Men, but also Fyshes, and Beastes, and Foules.

Sorowe.

But who is able to cloath the bodyes of so many chyldren.

Reason.

He that apparrelleth not onely lyuyng creatures, but also the Fieldes with Grasse, and Flowres, and the Wooddes with Leaues, and Branches. And how knowe we yet, whether these thy chyldren perhappes shall not onely feede and clothe thee, but also defende and honour thee. Of humane affayres, as some that begynne with pleasure, doo ende with sorowe and care: euen so contrarywyse, some that haue a bytter begyn∣nyng, doo ende pleasauntly: suche as for the most part is the euent of all vertuous actions, whiche are greeuous at the fyrst entraunce, but in processe delectable.

Sorowe.

I am poore, and haue manye chyldren.

Reason.

Thou marueylest, as though thou haddest not read of the plen∣tifull

pouertie of men. There are sundrie kyndes of Trades, and diuers gyftes of Fortune: they happen not all vnto one man: vnto some wandryng Merchandize, to some the rough Earth, to some dead Mettall, and vnto thee lyuyng ryches, whiche are Chyldren, are alotted. And shall we recken Oxen, and Sheepe, and Asses, and Camelles, and flittyng Bees, and Pigeons, and Poultry, and Peacockes, and lykewyse Men∣seruauntes and Womenseruauntes, in the number of ryches, and exclude Chyldren onely?

Sorowe.

O, howe manye Chyldren haue I?

Reason.

O, howe many moe haue o∣ther had? Priamus had fyftie, Orodes king of the Parthians had thirtie, Artaxerxes king of the Persians had an hundred & fifteene, Erothinius king of the Arabians seuen hundred, in trust and confidence of whom, inuadyng the confines of his enimies, with seuerall inroades he wasted the landes of Egypt and Syria. And truely it is a kynde of power and force, to haue many Chyldren. But I knowe what thou wylt say: These whom thou hast named were all of them myghtie Kynges, and my state is farre otherwyse. Was Appius Claudius a King? No, he was not so much as a Rych man, in that auncient tyme, when as it was a reproche to be counted ryche, and blynd∣nesse was ioyned with his pouertie, and olde age with his blynd∣nesse, and yet notwithstandyng Tullie wrytyng of hym, Foure Sonnes, sayeth he, and fyue Daughters, so great an house, and so great resort of Suters dyd Appius gouerne, beyng both blynd and olde. Neyther is it marueyle that he gouerned well his priuate affayres, when as, beyng troubled with these discom∣modities, he gouerned also the whole Common wealth. The greater part of humane defectes, consysteth in the man∣ners, not in the thynges. Appius estate was not lyke a Kyng, neyther dyd he desyre it, but beyng contented with his owne callyng, decked vp his small house not with cost∣lye furniture, but with vertues, and maynteyned his familie with a slender dyet. And that whiche many Kinges doo vn∣wyllyngly and camplaynyng, that dyd he with an indifferent mynd: For he sought not for ryches, but conformed his appetite to his abilitie. Appius had not the lyke wealth to king Craesus,

nor to his fellowe citizen Crassus, but he was happier then eyther of them, although his ryches were lesse: neyther dyd he lyue after a greater reuenue, but as all good men doo, after his owne. Neyther truely doo I require of thee, that thou lyue after any other proportion, for thy selfe and thyne, then after thyne owne, nor that thou feede and cloth thy fami∣lie with princely meate and apparrell. Princes chyldren feede dayntily, and are brauely apparrelled: but they lyue not better, nor longer, nor pleasanter, nor, as it is wel knowen, more safely, nor more honestly, nor more vertuously. In the steede of all these, they haue one thyng wherein they ex∣cell, they lyue more pompously, that is to say, foolyshlie. Euerie one hath his owne manner of lyuyng and mea∣sure, but not therefore the better, because the greater: where∣by it commeth to passe, that oftentymes a man shall see some merrie in a Cottage, and other sadde in the Court. There is one onely Fountayne of grace, but all are not of lyke capacitie: that Fountaine I meane, vnto whom it is sayde, Thou openest thyne hand, and fillest euery lyuyng thyng with thy blessing. What ma∣keth to purpose the greatnesse or smalnesse of the vesselles, when they be all of a lyke fulnesse? But poore folke lacke many thynges: but howe muche more doo kynges want, seeyng that saying of Horace is most true and approoued, that, Many thynges are wantyng to them that aske many thynges.

Sorowe.

It is a greeuous thyng to begette many chyldren.

Reason.

What canst thou recite vnto mee vnder heauen, that is not paynefull and greeuous, pleasure onely excepted? then whiche notwithstandyng, there is nothyng more paynefull in the ende, nothyng that leaueth so many stinges in the minde. Hast thou not read in Horace, howe, This lyfe hath geuen nothyng vnto mortalmen without great traueyle? Doest thou not al∣so heare what another Poet hath written aptly touching the same matter? For when al the godlie confesse with one consent, that all good thinges are geuen vs freely from aboue, he sayeth that they are not geuen, but solde, and the price appoynted, which is labour. For thus he sayeth, The Goddes sell vnto vs al good thinges for la∣bour.

Sorowe.

The carefulnesse for so many chyldren,

is troublesome vnto me.

Reason.

Is not this sentence to be numbred among the true sayinges, That there can no mans lyfe be founde, that is without vexation and trouble? And lyke∣wyse this, That all the whole course of lyfe, is a torment? What haue the chyldren deserued, whiche yf they be lackyng, yet other cares wyll aryse? Beleeue mee, whiche way so euer thou tur∣nest thy selfe, and whatsoeuer trade of fortune thou assay, trou∣bles, and molestations, and difficulties of lyfe wyll be present: and therefore what neede vayne lamentations?

Sorowe.

I am oppressed with many chyldren.

Reason.

If thou say that thou art oppressed as it were with thyne owne felicitie, and thou take it in euyll part that the thynges whiche men doo fyrst and especially desyre, haue aboundantly hapned vnto thee, this is a strange kynde of impacience.

Sorowe.

What shall I doo with so many Daughters? Who shall geue me so many Dowries for them?

Reason.

There is one GOD of the Females and Males, he feedeth his sonnes and daughters: And as he wyll geue them witte and artes to lyue by, so wyll he also endue them with his gyftes and Dowries. Wherefore, it is so written, Trust in hym, and be wyll doo it: that whiche lyeth in thee to doo shalbe the best kynde of Dowrie, namely, so to bryng vp thy Daughters, that they may be well lyked and lo∣ued by vpryght iudgement without a Dowrie. Faustina had the Romane Empire to her Dowrie: and yet howe many wo∣men thynkest thou haue there been without Dowries, that haue been more chaste & fortunate then she? It is not the Dowrie that maketh the happie marriage, but the vertue. Endeuour yf thou canst, that thy Daughters money be not desyred, but theyr ho∣nestie, but theyr modestie, but theyr integritie, but theyr pa∣tience, humblenesse, faythfulnesse, and obedience: with these pre∣cious stones thy Daughters beyng adorned, with this golde laded, with these handmaydens accompanied, let them goe into their husbandes houses that are not ryche men, but honest, where oftentymes shamefastnesse is safer, and the lyfe sweeter, then in the Bedchambers and Courtes of Princes.

Of money lost. The .xiii. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Haue lost Money.

Reason.

And with it many cares, and continuall daunger.

Sorowe.

I haue lost money.

Reason.

And also the payne of keepyng it, and the feare of loosyng it. Thus by loosyng thy money, thou hast founde two good thynges, and both of them better then that whiche thou hast lost, to wit, carelesnesse, & quietnesse.

Sorowe.

I haue lost money.

Reason.

It is well that it hath not lost thee, whiche it hath done many owners thereof: For the forme of money is hurtfull, the bryghtnesse thereof pestilent and venomous. And therefore like a Serpent that hath golden skales, delyghting, she pleaseth the eyes, & stryketh the Soule. So then, yf thou be glad that thou art safely deliuered from her, reioyce that that is taken away whereby thou myghtest be infected, and recount also with myrth and admi∣ration, that thou hast passed vnhurt through dangers. But yf thou were infected, knowe now, that the cause of the mischiefe is roo∣ted out, whereby thou mayest returne the more easily vnto health.

Sorowe.

I haue lost Golde and Siluer.

Reason.

What hath an heauenlie minde to do, with earthly drosse? They that fo∣lowe the more manly Philosophie, doo not reckon golde and siluer among goodes: but they that professe the more effeminate lear∣nyng, doo call them goodes, but not of the minde. Whiche so euer of these thou followe, these thynges eyther were not good, eyther were not thyne, so that thou hast no cause for to complayne. And yf thou wylt needes haue them called goodes, whiche thing ma∣ny excellent men doo deny, notwithstanding thou shalt be enfor∣ced to terme them Fortunes goodes, and not thyne. So then, nei∣ther hast thou lost any thyng of thyne owne, neyther shee any thyng that was hers, but onely hath otherwyse disposed them.

Sorowe.

I haue lost money.

Reason.

As thou couldest not haue lost it, yf it had been thyne, so couldest thou not loose it, not beyng thyne: but in deede it was not thyne, but his whom it hath followed, nay rather it was not his, but Fortunes, as I haue sayde, who lendeth it where shee seeth cause, for some short tyme of occupying, for a great interest. And therefore learne nowe at

length, to knowe thyne owne from other folkes.

Sorowe.

I haue lost money.

Reason.

If other mens losses also and not thyne owne only do grieue thee, & are vexed that any thing that is an others shoulde be taken from thee, learne to get those thinges that are thine owne for euer, whiche are won with more ease, and possessed with more honor and assurance. If thou wouldest seeke after vertue, thou shouldest not lose her: but you are become despi∣sers of vertue, and seekers and louers of money: ye seeme to be waxed deafe vnto holsome admonition and counsell, whatsoeuer hath been sayde by vertuous and learned men, specially agaynst this poynt of humane madnesse. Thou hast heard your Satyrike Poet protesting, For he that woulde be ryche, and soone be rych: and vnto these woordes he addeth, But what reuerence of lawes, what feare or shame is there euer in the couetous man, that desireth hastely to be ryche? This sayeing the wyse man among the Hebrewes compriseth in fewe woordes: Who so, sayth he, ma∣keth haste to be ryche, can not be without blame. Thou hast heard also another Countreyman of yours, whether he were a Satyricall, or Lyricall Poet, saying, It is neyther house, nor lande, not heapes of siluer nor golde, that are able to expell Feuers out of the owners diseysed bodie, nor cares out of his minde. The selfe same thyng, this strange wyse man comprehended in fewe woordes, saying, Richesse doo not helpe in the day of ven∣geaunce. But he tolde moreouer what woulde helpe, Righteous∣nesse, sayth he, shall delyuer a man from death. Since therefore the money whiche thou lamentest to be lost, in tyme of greatest necessitie can not profite the bodye nor mynde, I marueyle, ey∣ther why it shoulde so muche be wyshed for when it is gone, or loued when it is present? With these and suche other thynges, your Oratour beyng mooued, There is no signe so euident of a base and vile minde, sayth he, as to loue ryches. But the Ecclesiastike Oratour, There is nothyng, sayth he, more wicked, then a couetous person: nothing more vniust, then to loue money. And the aucthoritie of very many that agree in this matter, from whiche there is al∣most none that dissent, is of suche multitude and grauitie, that the common peoples errour striueth to no purpose against the iudge∣ment of the wyse. And therefore, as there is none more vniust,

so is there no desyre more ardent then the desyre of money, as beyng a thyng vpon whiche men are perswaded that all thinges depende that can be wyshed for. But contrariwyse, the voyces of the best learned men cry out, experience and trueth crieth out, the multitude of auncient and new examples crieth out, that great masses of money are profitable to none, but haue been pernitious to many, are gotten with sinne and toyle, kept with feare and care∣fulnesse, and lost with complaint and heauinesse. Let the louers of money declare, eyther what falshood is in these woordes, or good∣nesse in theyr ryches? And to the ende that a thyng so much com∣mended may be vprightly considered, let euery man cal vnto his remembrance, whatsoeuer he hath seene or read perfectly and sin∣cerely concerning this matter, setting apart al regard of the com∣mon peoples clamour, and the glittering of the mettalles. And for that all men haue not had the lyke occasion to see and trie, let those thynges be called to mynde whiche are set downe in wry∣tyng by famous auctours, whiche the learned myght alwayes reade and heare at their pleasure. And is it not well knowen, that money brought in newe and vnaccustomed manners, and that effeminate rychesse, by meanes of hatefull riotousnesse, dyd per∣uert whose ages, that before lyued most commendably? And that rychesse adioyned with couetousnesse and ouerflowing plea∣sures, through sensualitie and lasciuiousnesse, brought in the desire to ouerthrowe and destroy all, whiche both by wryting and effect hath often been founde to be true, That the couetous man is al∣wayes in neede. That iron is hurtful, but golde more hurtfull. That the wicked thyrst of golde d th enforce mens mindes vnto any mis∣chiefe, and that the spirites are weakened onely with the sight of money. Is not golde able to passe through a garison of armed men, and to breake stones more forcibly then a thunderbolt? and dooeth not hereof spryng treason, both agaynst honestie and lyfe? By a golden showre of rayne Danaès virginitie was ex∣pugned, and lykewyse there was one cause of the ouerthrowe of the Greeke Poet Amphiareus, and his couetous wife, to wit, the fatall golde, which being wel contemned, by Argia Eriphila yll wished for, and yll gotten, brake vp his house, and began the occasion of horrible wickednesse. Is it not most truely and

properly sayde, that false and transitorie ryches can neyther per∣fourme that which they promise, neyther quenche the thyrst of the minde, but encrease it, neyther dryue away cares, but bring them, nor relieue necessities, but encrease them? And that, The loue of money encreaseth, as muche as the money it selfe encreaseth? And likewyse this saying may be added, Money maketh no man ryche, but rather contrariwyse, there is no man in whom it hath not engen∣dred a greater desire of it. And no lesse this, Care followeth money as it encreaseth, and greater hunger of it. And agayne, To them that aske many thynges, many thynges are wantyng: and likewyse, They that possesse muche, doo lacke muche. Finally, that whatsoe∣uer they be, they are not permanent and continuyng, as beyng reposed in the handes of Fortune, subiect euermore vnto variable chaunces, and at leastwyse to be lost by death. For when the ryche man sleepeth, he shall carie nothyng away with hym: yf he open his eyes, he shall fynde nothyng, and yet he can not leaue that no∣thyng to whom he woulde: for why? Man passeth away in an Image, and vaynely troubling hym selfe, he heapeth vp ryches toge∣ther, and knoweth not for whom he shall gather them. Whyle these, and a thousande suche lyke sayinges of wyse and learned men doo in suche sort sounde about our eares, notwithstandyng infinite desire to haue, hath made you deafe, so that the rych men of this worlde are in vayne admonished, not to be too hyghly wyse nor to trust in the vncertainetie of ryches, but in the liuing GOD, who geueth all thing plenteously, to enioy them to do good, and to become ryche in good woorkes: for they that would be ryche, namely in these ryches that are commonly wyshed for, fall into temptation and snares of the Deuyll, and many vnpro∣fitable and hurtfull lustes, that drench men in death and destructi∣on: For couetousnesse is the roote of all mischieues. This counsay∣ler wyll they more harken vnto, then they wyll heare hym that sayeth, Trust not in wickednesse, neyther couet after rapine: yf ryches doo abounde, set not thy hart vpon them. Neither him more then his sonne, saying, Whoso trusteth in his ryches, shall come to destruction. And agayne, not more then all these, hym that is a∣boue all, whose heauenly doctrine can not be contemned but of mad and frantike persons, who truely calleth ryches, and the

companions of ryches, pleasures, and cares, by the name of thornes, whiche choake the seede of holsome woordes: this spake he, in whose mouth was founde no guyle. The lyuely trueth, I say, spake this: and dooest thou thynke that he founde any fayth vpon the earth? Surely none at all, or but very litle. And that whiche he tearmeth thornes, the worlde calleth chiefe sweetnesse and pleasure. And where as one saith, that pearles and precious stones, and vnprofitable gold, are the matter of al mischiefe, they thinke them to be the cause of al goodnesse, and doo all auie seeke after them as the cheifest good, and aboue al other thynges. And now therefore in the streetes of cities and townes, procla∣mation is made not mockingly. O Citizens, citizens, ye must first seeke for money, and for vertue after money. And this saying also of another, Sell thy soule for gayne, traffique and peruse ouer al partes of the worlde. Thus the great gyft of God, that is not yet vnder∣stoode, but pouertie that is the great reproche sent of GOD, commaundeth to do, and to suffer whatsoeuer a man lust. And that is euery day founde true whiche another sayth, You ryches, whiche are the most vyle thyng of all other, you haue raysed a contention. For who is he, I pray you, at this day, that for a rewarde at conuenient oportunitie beyng layde before hym, wyll not violate all equitie, beheade Polydorus, and by force enioy his golde? Bryng louyng brethren, or friendly friendes togeather, to an assembly, feast, or any maner of meetyng, and shortly after let discorde cast among them, I say not an whole, but a peece of a golden Apple: for with these weapons she was woont to trye the quarrell, but now with swoordes, seri∣ous and triflyng matters are debated. And lyke as there is nothyng gotten with more wickednesse then golde, so to speake to my purpose, there is nothyng loste with more heauinesse. For synne, whiche is a present destruction to the soule, is con∣temned, and the next to that, which is losse of good name, is not regarded, and losse of tyme is esteemed as a lyght matter. The losse of brethren is slenderly lamented, of parentes more slen∣derly, and of wyues moste slenderly, and many tymes is taken most ioyfully: only the losse of ryches moste grieuously. And this saying is verie true, Lost money is bewayled with

true teares. But we haue sayde muche of that, whereof we can neuer say yenough, but neuer a litle, or alwayes to litle is sayde: for by talkyng with obstinate myndes, concernyng the loue of money, there is nothyng els purchased by teach∣yng of them, but hatred and contempt: for whatsoeuer gain∣sayeth the common errours, is reputed madde or counterfeite.

Sorowe.

I haue lost money.

Reason.

Thou art awa∣ked, thou dyddest but dreame only that thou waste ryche.

Sorowe.

My money whiche I loued is gone.

Reason.

It is neyther the loue nor hatred of money that I commende, but the studie of good husbandrie, and the eschewyng of co∣uetousnesse: For as it is the part of a base mynde to loue it, so not to be able to susteyne it, is the imperfection of a weake spirite, that hath smal stay in it selfe, and is afrayde to be sub∣iect vnto money. Valient is he, sayeth Anneus Seneca. that vseth earthen vesselles as he would doo syluer: and no lesse co∣ragious is be that vseth syluer as he would doo earthen vesselles: that thou mayest vnderstand, that whether it be vyce or vertue, it is not in the thynges, but in the myndes. It is not the hater nor louer of money, but the contemner of it when it is absent, and the good Stewarde and vser of it when it is present, whom thou muste counte to be a woorthie personage. This saying dyd Tullie wryte from my mouth: For when he hadde sayd that the loue of ryches apparteyned vnto a vyle and base mynde, he added, And there is nothyng more honest and magnifical, then to contemne money yf thou haue it not, and yf thou haue it, to vse it beneficially and liberally. In a playne matter I vse euident witnesses, and I woulde to GOD that I and they coulde be beleeeued: then shoulde not mankynde in eache re∣spect, and in all matters, be so deafe and vnbeleeuyng. The vnsatiable toylyng of men, theyr greedinesse to seeke, and theyr searching through all landes and Seas, doo prooue that couetousnesse, and the loue and desyre of ryches, haue pro∣claymed open warre, not only agaynst vertues, but also against lyfe.

Sorowe.

I haue lost a great summe of money.

Reason.

A great, and harde, and grieuous weight, and also the office of a Keeper, as I sayd before: for the proude de∣sire

to haue, of Lordes and owners, hath made you Keepers, commaundyng you to doo and suffer all thynges, only to the ende that money may be gotten and hoorded vppe. And so that whiche was fyrst inuented to serue mens vses and necessities, is conuerted to theyr feare and carefulnesse. To be grieued, and vexed, and with dread to beholde the burnyng of other mens houses, to stande in doubt of the treachery of Theeues, and the runnyng away of seruantes, neyther to doo good vnto a mans selfe, nor to other, but only to hang your noses ouer your gold, whiche serueth you to no purpose, these be your ryches.

Sorowe.

Some body, I knowe not who, hath taken away my money, whiche I had at home.

Reason.

Truely, it is vyle, transitorie, and not a mans owne, whiche may be stolne, or taken away by force.

Sorowe.

I cannot fynde my money, whiche I sealed vp in my bagges.

Reason.

I wyll tell thee a storie that is not very olde. There was, not long since in Italie, a certayne noble and woorthie Gentleman, ryche in auncient possessions, but rycher in vertues, howbeit not so in money, who in such sort gouerned his money whiche he hadde, as one that had learned to be the Lorde and disposer, not the keeper thereof: he hadde a sonne, that was his eldest, who was very apte and industrious in affayres apparteynyng to the iudiciall Court, and ciuile controuersies, insomuche that through dili∣gence and sparyng, he hadde gotten togeather great ryches, and an huge masse of golde: and it was a strange matter to behold in the auncient father youthly bountifulnesse, and in the young sonne aged niggishnesse: His father often times exhorted hym not to defraude him selfe of that which was his owne, not to forget to haue regard of godlinesse, and of his estimation, neyther that in respect of gold he should be carelesse of his honour and ho∣nestie, of his duetie and right, which nature required at his hande: and finally, that he would so dispose and conforme him selfe, that with his riches he might at last helpe him selfe, his olde mother, his young brethren and kynsfolke, and the poore, to whiche ende ryches were gotten, and not to be watched and warded, and as it were to be a cōtinual punishment to the owners. Thus spake his father oftentimes vnto him. But the old prouerbe is true,

It is a vayne labour to tell a tale to one that is deafe, or a coue∣tous person. Nowe it hapned, not long tyme after, that this young man was sent abrode about affayres of the common wealth, and with certayne speciall and choyce men trauayled a∣bout businesse vnto the Pope of Rome, and when he was de∣parted, his father immediatly takyng the occasion, makyng new keyes vnto the doores of his chamber and cheast, entred in, and tooke away the Treasure out of that lurkyng Den whereas it lay and profited no body, and very brauely apparelled hym selfe therewith, and his wyfe, and his chyldren, and all his familie: He bought hym selfe also goodly Horses, Place, and gorgeous housholde stuffe, and lastly a very fayre house and large, but no∣thing trim, which he enlarged with new buildinges; and furni∣shed it with most beautiful pictures, and al other implementes, which a gentlemans estate, and a plentiful lyfe required: & more∣ouer he gaue much a way to the poore. And as for the bagges in which his sonnes gold had been, he filled them ful of sande and grauell of the ryuer, and sealyng them vp safely, leaft them where he found them, and made euery thyng fast, and so departed. All these thinges were doone in short tyme, for that the good olde man hadde a willing minde, and the monie also was in a re∣dinesse. Nowe when the sonne was returned home, his brethren went foorth to meete hym: at the sight of whom he was suddeinly amazed, woonderyng at their apparel, and other furniture, whiche was farre altered from that is was woont to be: Wherevppon he demaunded of them where they hadde so fayre garmentes, and those goodly Horses: Who ioyfully, and in chyldyshe simplicitie, answered, that al was my Lorde theyr fathers, and that he had many moe fayre Horses at home in his Stable: And moreouer that theyr father and mother were sumptuously apparrelled, and hadde great store of Princely garmentes. Wherefore he beganne more and more to woonder at euery thyng. From thence proceedyng, when he came within his fathers house, he scarce knewe his Parentes, nor so muche as the very walles of the house: whereat beyng not in a simple admiration, but rather distracted in mynde, and as it were in a traunce, he went

hastily vnto his Coffer, where when he sawe nothyng chaun∣ged vnto outwarde appearaunce, he some deale contented his mynde for that present. And because that the presence and hast whiche his Collegenesse made to depart, woulde not permit hym to make farther delay, he suddaynely opened his Coffer, wherein beholdyng his bagges fast shutte, and stuffed ful as they were woont to be, he forced no more, but so departed. Short∣ly after, when as his publique function was fynished, he came home, and gooyng into his chamber, shut the doore vnto him, and opened his Coffer, and searched his bagges, and findyng his golde to be turned into sande, he made a loude outcrie. His father came runnyng hastily, and, What is the matter, sonne, quoth he, that thou cryest out and weepest? O father, sayth he, I haue lost my money, whiche with so muche watch∣yng, labour, and trauayle, I had gotten togeather and layde vppe in these bagges, and I am robbed thereof euen in your house. Howe art thou robbed, answered his father? Doo I not see thy bagges stroutyng full? But, O father, sayde he, weepyng, it is sande, and not money: and with that he opened the bagges, and shewed it vnto his father. Then an∣swered the olde man, with a countenance nothyng chaunged, What skilleth it, sonne, to thee, whether they be full of sande or money? A notable saying truely, and proceedyng from a singular iudgement: For vnto many, money is vnprofitable and without vse, and dooeth them none other good, but fylleth a roome, and occupieth theyr myndes, and among moste men it is wickedly vsed, and but among very fewe employed to good purposes.

Sorowe.

I haue loste my money whiche I lo∣ued.

Reason.

Thou art released of a fylthy loue: For the loue of money is couetousnesse: The lesse thou louest it, the lesse thou shalt desyre it. For the saying of the Satiryke Poet is founde by experience to be true, That he wysheth least for mo∣ney, that hath least money: and the losse of that is to be wysh∣ed, yea, yf it were some great good thyng, vnto whiche a greater mischiefe is inseparably ioyned.

Sorowe.

I haue loste my sweete succour and stay of my lyfe.

Reason.

How knowest thou whether it woulde haue been a bytter destruction

or not? Many moe haue peryshed by meanes of ryches, then of pouertie.

Of Suretishyp. The .xiiii. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I AM molested with Suretishyppe.

Reason.

Thou complaynedst erewhyle of the losse of thy money, and nowe thou complaynest of the castyng of it away. Hast thou not by wyllyng enteryng into bandes, throwne away thy money? This is a common madnesse among the greater sort of people, by meanes whereof a man may soone loose both his money and his friende.

Sorow.

I haue geuen my fayth and troth for another.

Reason.

Thou shalt breake it for thy selfe, and to thyne owne hynderaunce and losse shalt learne, how plea∣saunt a thyng it is to owe nothyng, and lyue out of pryson and fetters.

Sorowe.

I haue geuen my woorde in assurance for my friende.

Reason.

Hence foorth geue vnto thy poore friendes, golde, syluer, Wyne, Oyle, Corne, Cloath, Houses, Farmes, counsell and comfort, finally deuide all that thou hast among them, only keepe vnto thy selfe thy sweete libertie, whiche thou shalt neuer geue to nor for any other.

Sorowe.

I haue geuen my woorde for another: and the day of payment is come.

Reason.

Dyddest thou not knowe that it woulde come? or dyddest thou not hope to lyue so long, or at least thyne heyre, whom thou hast wrapped in voluntarie bandes? But it happeneth well, that the punyshment of the errour, falleth vppon his pate that committed the errour. But I knowe that it was the deferryng that deceyued thee. The meane tyme betweene the day of promyse and the day of paye∣ment, you measure vaynely in your mynde, whiche as other tymes doo, doo seeme long, but when they be once past, ap∣peere to haue been very short: For away flye the houres, the dayes, the nyghtes, weekes, monethes, yeeres, cyrcuites of seuen yeeres, ages, and whatsoeuer seemeth to be farthest of, is euen at hande: Insomuche as that whiche you nowe

beholde amazed, within the compasse of a fewe monethes, yf your eyes were open, you shoulde cleerely discerne through many ages: but you, as yf you hadde the tyme at your com∣maundement, and it were not gouerned by it owne nature, ima∣gine that your prefixed tyme wyll neuer come, nor the dayes passe away: and in this hope, as it were, with closed eyes passyng ouer the headlong downefall, yee seeme vnto your selues to be pleasaunt and courteous in woordes, vndertakyng for o∣thers, as though these woordes and priuate promyses woulde not soone come abrode to lyght, and bryng great trouble and hurly burly with them.

Sorowe.

I am become Suretie for my friende.

Reason.

Thou knowest that a mannes friendes want, yf his friende haue wherewithall, must be with present supply releeued. But doo not thou encomber thy selfe, neyther promyse any thyng agaynst to morowe: which thyng I woulde not speake, yf there coulde none other shyft be made then by promysing. For to what purpose is it to promyse? If thou canst not perfourme, thou dooest foolyshly: if thou canst, thou dooest superfluously. But you are moste couetous of the thinges, and moste lauishe of your promyses, as though in deede those promyses dyd not require the thynges them selues. But if thou aunsweare me, that at that present thou haddest not where∣withall to helpe hym, and wast in hope thou shouldest haue shortly after, whereof thou wast deceyued: then haddest thou not learned sufficiently, that hope is the most deceitfull thyng in the worlde. You shal finde nothyng that deceiueth you so often, and yet is there nothyng that you beleeue so wyllyngly, she is so craf∣tie and flatteryng, so sweetly and setretly she insinuateth her selfe, and is hardly pulled from you.

Sorowe.

I am become a sure∣tie.

Reason.

I thinke thou haddest forgotten the notable pre∣cept of Thales Milesius, It is a losse to enter into Suretiship: and also that whiche the wise man saide, which I suppose not vnprofi∣table to be recited, which being translated into Latine by the poet Ausonius, soundeth after this maner, Become suretie, saith he, and thou art neere a shrewd turne. I coulde recite a thousand examples, to proue y^t promisers, vndertakers, & sureties, are worthy to tast of repētance, but I wil touch none by name. Let euery man certifie

hym selfe of the trueth, & recount with hym selfe, what great losse hath hapned vnto many by meanes of suretishyppe.

Sorowe.

I haue doone amisse by voluntary byndyng my selfe.

Reason.

This trespasse shall not neede the fire of Purgatorie after thy de∣cesse, it shalbe purged where it was committed: For it is of the kynde of offences that carrye theyr Purgatorie with them.

Sorowe.

I haue bounde my selfe by my promyse.

Reason.

Release thy selfe then by payment, and let the hand discharge hym whom his tongue hath wrapped in bandes: and it shall doo thee good to haue been bounde, for when thou hast once escaped, thou wilt alwayes the more abhorre hamperinges.

Of losse of tyme. The .xv. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Lament the losse of my tyme.

Reason.

This com∣plaint were more iust, then that is whiche goeth before, for that the losse of money is of smaller account then is the losse of tyme, forasmuche as money is not so necessarie vnto well lyuyng, and when it is loste it may be recouered, but tyme is necessarie and can neuer be recalled, but only that money is taken from men agaynst theyr wylles, and they suffer theyr tyme to runne awaye wyllyngly. And therefore although I con∣fesse that those losses are the greater which the faulte of hym that susteyneth them dooth encrease and make greater: notwith∣standyng I denye that there is iuste cause of complaynt, where he that suffereth any thyng, suffereth it wyllyngly.

Sorowe.

I loose my tyme vnwyllyngly.

Reason.

Who shall constrayne one that is vnwyllyng, but only couetousnesse, that is mother vnto businesse? This vice only sayth Terence, dooeth olde age bryng vnto men: we are all the sort of vs more neere and couetous then reason requireth. Herein he toucheth olde men: And truely in this niggyshnesse, all are become olde men. For couetousnesse hath inuaded all ages, all states,

all sexes, and shortneth the tyme, and abrydgeth the miserable dayes of wretched mortall men. Whyle you be busie about this one thyng, ye consume your whole lyfe, beyng vn∣mindful, in a manner, both of your selues, and your plea∣sures: whiche plague yf it infected men agaynst theyr wylles, then myght tyme also be taken from a man agaynst his wyll, and the complaynt were reasonable for the losse of so pretious a thyng.

Sorowe.

It is not couetousnesse that snatcheth away my tyme, but necessitie.

Reason.

What necessitie, I pray thee is this, whiche is able to take that from thee, whiche is onely thyne owne? I speake this, for that ryches, honour, power, aucthoritie, souereigne∣tie, and suche lyke, Fortune geueth and taketh away at her pleasure, but time shee can not take from any, contrarie to theyr lykyng, but it slydeth away by lytle and lytle, though a man employ it not, and by small and small consumeth quite away: Neyther doo you attende it, vntyl it be gone, then your com∣playntes doo resounde, but too late and to no purpose, then la∣ment ye the losse of your tyme, but you say nothyng of your owne fault.

Sorowe.

Onely necessitie constrayned mee to loose my tyme.

Reason.

I demaunde agayne of thee, what vrgent necessitie was it, vnlesse that whyle thou wast busied about thy Lordes and Maisters afayres, thou neglectedst thyne owne, as though couetousnesse and vnsatiable desyre of gayne were not the onely matter that enforced thee there∣vnto? Lay asyde thine owne desyres, and thou shalt no longer obey thy Lordes and Maisters desyres. But this incurable poyson is so dispersed throughout your Veynes, and crept into the principall partes of your bodyes, that it dulleth your senses, and stealeth from you not your tyme onely, but also your libertie and lyfe, whyle you perceyue no suche matter. But yf haply thou hast not bestowed thy tyme in pursuyng of thyne owne couetousnesse, or of others, but in the honest af∣fayres of thy Common wealth, this is no loosyng of tyme, but a commendable employing of the most precious thyng, vppon the most deerest thyng that is in all the worlde, wherein thou hast discharged the duetie of a good man, and of a notable

Citizen: Although I am not ignoraunt, that the common sore of men doo call that tyme lost, whiche is not bestowed vppon couetousnesse, when as in trueth that is the lost tyme whiche is bestowed vppon it: and howe knowe we, whether thou meane the losse of thy tyme after the common manner of spea∣kyng? Whiche yf I thought to be so, leauyng of the saluing of so incurable a sore, I woulde confesse that it is not thy tyme, but thou thy selfe that art vtterly lost and cast away. But yf so be, as I coulde rather wyshe, thou wouldest, I say not geue, but render thy tyme vnto thy GOD, whiche thou canst not doo without true godlynesse, knowe then, that this were a great and inestimable lucre: For, by the expense of a lytle tyme, thou should∣est gaine immortalitie: And what Merchant is he, that euer hap∣ned vppon the lyke fortunate exchange?

Sorowe.

The cause of my loosyng of my tyme is farre other.

Reason.

I vnderstande not what cause thou meanest: for yf thou thynkest that thou wast constrayned therevnto by meanes of anger, or sorowe, or loue, or any other passion of the minde, thou art de∣ceyued. For there is the lyke reason in them, and in couetous∣nesse, whereof I spake erewhyle, they be all voluntarie, and none of them constrayned. For that is euident vnto common sense, and by Tulliè disputed in manie places, and very often repea∣ted. Yf none of these be the cause, what is it other then sl••uth and idlenesse? And so we come to that whiche Seneca sayeth, Most shamefull is that losse, whiche commeth through negligence.

Sorowe.

Wofull necessitie constrayned me to loose my tyme.

Reason.

Yet I vnderstande not the matter: For, yf thyne eni∣mie haue thee in holde, yf death be at hande, these thynges I confesse may hynder good actions, but not vertuous and god∣ly thoughtes, whiche in that state are most eminent, and appa∣rent. In whiche cares and cogitations truely the tyme is not lost, I knowe not whether lesse in any other thyng: whiche cogita∣tions truely may eyther goe into Regulus Barrell, or Phalaris Bull, or goe vp vppon Theodorus Cyrenensis Gallowes, and no body let them. Thus whiche way foeuer thou turnest thy selfe, the blame of loosyng thy tyme, shall be returned vppon thy selfe. Howbeit you, accordyng to your custome,

accusing nature for makyng the tyme transitorie, although heere be nothyng eternall, acquite your selues of euery thyng, when as in deede ye be gyltie of all. For all of you, for the most part, doo loose your tyme, or rather cast it away, and contemne it as a vile thyng, and nothyng woorth, whiche I woulde God you woulde bestowe in seekyng after vertue and glorie, and not alwayes in infamie and euerlasting reproche, although to speake truely, whatsoeuer is not conuerted to the vse that it was ordey∣ned for, may be sayde to be lost. To this ende it is euident that man was borne, and had the benefice of tyme geuen hym, that he myght honour and loue his Creator, and thynke vppon hym: and whatsoeuer is doone besyde this, is doubtlesse lost, and cast away.

Of vnfortunate playing at Tables. The xvi. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Haue lost at Table playing.

Reason.

Dyd I not tell thee when thou wonnest, that it was but vzurie, and not gayne?

Sorowe.

I am drawne dry with gamyng.

Reason.

This game is of the same qualitie that Phisitions be, by mini∣string of a lule, to drawe foorth a great deale: but beleeue mee, thou hast more cause now to reioyce, then when thou triumphedst with false ioy. Better is sharpe chasticement, then deceitfull flatte∣rie. The lytle vantage which thou gottest then, dyd bryng thee vn∣to the whirlepoole of gaming now, and this losse wyll reclayme thee thence agayne. It is better to goe the right way with a foule brydle, then to be dryuen into a pyt out of the way with a golden payre of reignes.

Sorowe.

I haue lost at tables.

Reason.

But thou hast wonne at the game of manners, yf what thou hast doone thou marke diligently: otherwyse good medicines were in vayne geathered togeather for an incurable disease, yf ney∣ther losse nor shame coulde reuoke thee from this bottomlesse pyt of destruction: for when as experience bryngeth no profite, there is it in vayne to seeke to doo good with woordes.

Of her vnto whom one was assured, iudged vnto another. The .xvii. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

THe Iudges sentence haue taken from me her, to whom I was assured.

Reason.

Sentences of Iudges haue been against some deceyptful, agaynst some playnely wrongful.

Sorowe.

I haue lost her, to whom I was assured, by a verdict of Court.

Reason.

Some by craft, and some by swoorde, and whiche is a meanes of all other most shameful, some haue lost their wiues by golde. A man hath nothyng that is his owne: at the one side is theft, on the other deceypt, then rapine, next prayers, then money, and last of all, death. By this wheele, the gouernement of temporall goodes is turned vp and downe, and that whiche was ones, becommeth anothers, and anon shall passe to the thyrde: which yf it be to be borne withal in profitable thynges, in hurtfull and noysome thynges it is to be reioyced at. And what marueyle is it, yf humane thynges be turned vp and downe, seeyng man hym selfe is turned, and standeth not styll, but as it is written, Commeth foorth as a Flower, and is troden downe, and flieth away lyke a shadowe, and neuer continueth in one state: Thou complaynest that thou hast lost her, to whom thou wast assured, who in passing away, & euery day decreasyng, dooest con∣tinually loose thy selfe.

Sorowe.

I haue lost in iudgement her, to whom I was assured.

Reason.

Some contende in the fielde: but it is safer to contende in lawe then in warre, with sedules then with swoordes. Thou hast read in Virgil, what stryfe and contention there was betweene Lauiniaès suiters, and what was the ende of the warre? The wyfe followeth the conque∣rour, and death followeth hym that is conquered: thou hast lost thy spouse, and saued thy lyfe.

Sorowe.

The Iudge hath be∣refte me of my spouse.

Reason.

An Adulter or a Theefe per∣haps woulde haue taken her away. It is a lyghter matter to loose her whom a man is assured vnto, then to loose his true wyfe: For in the one, hope onely is lost: in the other, a thyng certaine. Lesse is the losse of a thyng hoped for, then a thyng in possession, and to speake the same otherwyse, of hope, then of an effect.

Sorowe.

In iudgement haue I lost my beloued spouse.

Reason.

Thou hast not lost her, but hast learned that she was not thyne.

Sorowe.

I haue lost her, vnto whom I was betrothed.

Reason.

He that looseth his wyfe, is delyuered of many cares, but he that looseth his spouse, is preserued: both of these are good, but the seconde is the better. And why shoulde it not be the better, forasmuche as it is the next thyng, eyther not to haue any wounde at all, or to haue a present remedie to cure it. But you beyng carried foorth by the force of your minde, and ledde along by great and blynde desyre, doo wyshe for marriage, whiche when you be entred into, then doo your vexe you selues with con∣tinuall griefe and complaintes, and then repent you of the deede, when it can not be vndoone, and when your repentance is vn∣profitable, and commeth too late.

Sorowe.

I haue lost her, vnto whom I was assured, and the hope whiche I had of chyl∣dren.

Reason.

Myngle not togeather lamentations of sun∣drie kyndes: for that whereof thou spakest last, is another part of the rashe desyre of mortall men. For this it is, ye desyre to be married, and to haue issue by your wyues: but the goddes doo not graunt alwayes vnto men that whiche shall please them, but that whiche shall profite them. Thou remembrest in Apuleius Madaurensis, how that the poore Mayden, that was fallen into the Theeues handes, with the raignes of her brydle turned the miserable Asse, vpon whiche she roade, into that part of the three wayes in whiche there was most danger, but he forced to goe the contrary, whereas it was the safest way, and couertly reprooued the foolyshe wench that hasted forwarde to her owne hinderance: But in the meane whyle that they were thus stryuyng, the Theeues, whom they thought they had escaped, came rushyng vpon them, by whom the Mayden, who so carefully contended for her owne destruction, was carried away into wofull captiui∣tie. Not muche vnlyke to this is the contention betweene the prouidence of GOD, and the follie of man, concernyng the iourneyng and passyng foorth of this lyfe: For the prouidence of GOD, whiche is of thynges that are to come, dryueth you thyther, where all thynges are pleasaunt and without dan∣ger, agaynst whiche striueth your blynde foolyshnesse, whiche fauoureth her owne wretchednesse, in obeying and geuyng

credite vnto suche mischiefes as myght well be auoyded, vntyll suddayne miseries catch you by the backes.

Sorowe.

I am ouerthrowen in the Lawe, and haue lost her, vnto whom I was made sure.

Reason.

Thou art woorthie to haue wonne: for when two stryue for one woman, he that hath her, loo∣seth, and he that hath wonne her, is ouercome, and he that is ouercome, is a conquerour, and a free man at his owne libertie.

Of the losse of a mans wyfe. The .xviii. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

ALas, I haue lost my wyfe.

Reason.

O frowarde dis∣position, and strange nature of a man, that weepest at the buriall of thy wyfe, and dauncedst when thou wast mar∣ried vnto her?

Sorowe.

I haue lost my wyfe.

Reason.

O madde man, sing the brydale song: It is now tyme to weare Crownes and Garlandes, and to be decked with special Flowres and Nosegayes, dispatch, and make an ende. Thou hast gotten the vpper hande in a dangerous conflict, and art deliuered from a long beseegyng.

Sorowe.

I haue lost my wyfe.

Reason.

Thou meanest that thou hast lost her, in that signification, that men say they haue lost an Ague, or a Byle, or Scabbes. And sometyme it is a kynde of gayne, to loose.

Sorowe.

I haue lost my wyfe.

Reason.

Perhappes thou neuer gaynedst more vpon one day: out of what fetters art thou escaped? From what shypwracke hast thou swum to shoare?

Sorowe.

But I haue lost a good wyfe.

Reason.

All men vse to say so, yea they that knowe the contrarie: and although a good wyfe, or rather a good woman, be a rare and strange creature vppon the earth, notwithstandyng to auoyde altercation, I wyll graunt thee that thou hast lost suche a wyfe as thou speakest of: ney∣ther wyll I therefore aunsweare thee, as once I aunsweared in Seneca, whyle this same question was handled, to witte,

That yf thou madest her good, thou mayest make another good: and yf thou foundest her good, thou mayest finde another good. But I change myne opinion, for I woulde not haue thee often to assay so dangerous a matter, whiche although it haue once happilie chaunced, yet were it follie to aduenture it many tymes: An euyll woman shall sooner fynde an hundred, then a good woman fynde one lyke to her selfe. And therefore, who so hath had an euyll wyfe, let hym be afearde of suche another: and he that hath had a good one, let hym not hope for the lyke: but let both of them take heede, the one, that he encrease not his miserie, the other, that he impayre not his felicitie. Thus euery way, it is best to abstayne from seconde marriage. And therefore nowe, yf thou haue lost a good wyfe, as thou sayest, reioyce rather for that whiche is past, then conceyue hope for that whiche is to come, neyther commit thy shyppe often to the winde, because thou hast often arriued safe at the shoare.

Sorowe.

Death hath loosed the band of wedlocke, wherewith I was bounden.

Reason.

Bind not thy selfe agayne: thynke with thy selfe howe excellent and incomparable a thyng libertie is, and embrace the counsell of Cicero, who when he had an olde wyfe, of hart of oke, of whose death there was no hope to be conceyued, he sued a diuorse, and was dismissed from her: But when his friendes exhorted hym to marrie another, he aunsweared, That he coulde not attende both a wyfe, and also the studie of wysedome.

Sorowe.

I haue lost a good wyfe.

Reason.

How yf this be no losse, but a gayne, and an auoydyng of great danger? For as a man may haply fynde a good wyfe, so where shall he seeke for a constant wyfe? Well knowen is the sayeing of the woorthie Poet, Women be alwayes diuers, and changeable.

Sorowe.

I haue lost a good wyfe, and in her flooryshyng yeeres.

Reason.

Art thou not then sufficiently acquain∣ted with the manners of women? Howe manie chast young women doo we see to become wanton olde wyues? For when the heate of letcherie once taketh holde in the bones of an olde iade, it burneth the more violently, as it were fyre in drye woodde. And nowe thou hast auoyded the alteration of lyfe

that was at hande, or els to the ende thou wouldest be out of dan∣ger, thou hast made prouision to eschewe the burden and tedi∣ousnesse of olde age approchyng. The yoke of marriage is gree∣uous vnto young men, but most greeuous, hard, and impor∣table vnto olde men.

Sorowe.

I haue lost a young wyfe.

Reason.

Whether issue be sought for by marriage, or els plea∣sure, whereof the one belongeth vnto an husbande, the other to a lasciuious person, youth is aptest vnto them both: but whether thou receyuedst the fyrst of these of thy wyfe, or the seconde, thou wast desyrous she shoulde come to that age in whiche she shoulde be vnmeete for them both: or whether thou hopedst that she that was by nature become vnfitte for these matters, coulde be amen∣ded by old age: which truely was but a vayne expectation, and a foolyshe hope.

Sorowe.

Hauyng lost my sweete wyfe, I am nowe alone.

Reason.

It is a good solitarinesse, to be with∣out euyll companie. There is nothyng softer then an emptie bed, nor harder, then when it is fylled with twayne, specially vnto a busied minde, and him that loueth sweete sleepes, and resteth in the contemplation of some great and excellent matter in his minde: for there is nothing more enimie vnto notable attemptes, then the companie of a woman. But I am not ignorant, what is wont to be sayde agaynst this, by suche as take pleasure in their owne miserie, They that knowe not marriage, say they, con∣demne marriage: and as it is sayde in the common Prouerbe, Batchelars wyues shall be beaten, and well taught: but I say contra∣rie, that there are none that vse to complayne of marriage, as far as euer I heard, but suche as haue borne the burden of marriage.

Sorowe.

I haue lost a very good wyfe.

Reason.

And euen those that seeme to be best and most louyng to theyr husbandes, sometyme wyll burne with ielousie and suspition more feruently then any other, by meanes whereof, domesticall peace must needes become on fyre. To what ende therfore is thy complaint? Thou hast lost thy wyfe, and founde thy libertie, a single lyfe, peace, sleepe, quietnesse: Now shalt thou passe foorth the nyght without braulyng.

Sorowe.

I am without a wyfe.

Reason.

And also without an aduersaris: Now shalt thou begynne to be Lorde and Maister, both of thy selfe, and thyne. Thou mayest

arise in the morning, and goe foorth when thou wylt, and come home agayne at nyght as late as thou lust: thou mayest be alone al the day, or keepe companie with whom thou please, and there shalbe none to controule thee.

Sorowe.

I haue lost my wyfe.

Reason.

Thou mayest now reuoke thy libertie and quietnesse into thy chamber, which of late thou haddest lost and exiled, that shalbe vnto thee a companion more profitable then any wyfe.

Sorowe.

I haue lost a good and a fayre wyfe.

Reason.

It is the part of a foole to loue his fetters, yea, though they were made of golde.

Of a shrewyshe wyfe. The .xix. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Haue a shrewyshe wyfe.

Reason.

It were better for thee thou hadst lost her: and euen nowe thou complaynedst that thou haddest lost her in deede.

Sorowe.

I haue an vnquiet wyfe.

Reason.

For the first trouble that a man commeth into, perhaps he is to be pardoned or pitied, but for the second time he is to be blamed: and he that is not sufficiently plagued with one wyfe, is worthie to haue many.

Sorowe.

I haue a shrewde wyfe.

Reason.

In other matters thou mayst some deale blame fortune, but in choyse of a wyfe, specially of a second wyfe, thou canst blame none but thy selfe, for thou hast procured this mischief vnto thy selfe.

Sorow.

I suffer a malapert wife.

Reason.

Set on fire wet chaffe, breake thy tyles, and for other matters thou art prouided for: thus shalt thou haue sufficient meanes to driue thee out of thy doores, to wyt, smoke, rayne, & thy shrewyshe wyfe.

Sorowe.

I haue an vntrustie wyfe.

Reason.

Then art thou not without daunger: The wiues of Agamem∣non and Scipio Affricane made away with their husbandes, that in the meane whyle I may speake nothyng of Amphiare∣us, of Deiphobus, and of Sampson, with others, ouerlong and manie to be recited. But as for the other sorte, they are innume∣ble, whose wiues neither constrayned their husbandes to die, nor suffered them to lyue.

Sorowe.

Thou tellest me of mischiefes that are very wel knowen, but I seeke for remedie.

Reason.

There be some that in this rase woulde geue thee counsel to cha∣stice

her, and by correction to bryng her manners from woorse to better, and in that only to apply thy diligence: but what is mine opinion herein? Truely to chastice her, yf chastisement wyl a∣uayle, but yf it be in vayne, then to arme thy selfe with patience, to endeuour thy selfe to loue her, and that whiche thou art con∣strayned to doo, to doo it wyllyngly. Vacro hath wrytten a Satyre▪ whiche they cal Menippea, concernyng the duetie of an husbande, there shalt thou reade the short, but effectual coun∣sayle of that learned man concernyng this matter, expressed in these woordes, The wyues faulte must eyther be taken away, that is to say, corrected, or suffered. And this reason of the saying, though short, yet sine, is lykewyse aleadged, He that taketh away the faulte, sayth he, maketh his wyfe more tollerable, but be that suffe∣reth it, maketh hym selfe the better. Whiche saying some other writers haue thus interpreted: That this fault in a mans wyfe yf it cannot be corrected, must be borne withall, whiche a man may well doo with honestie yenough, for that an inconuenience is better then a mischiefe: and this they say was only Varroes meanyng.

Sorowe.

My wyfe is malapert and vnquiet.

Reason.

Suffer her manners yf they can be chaunged, and how thou shalt lyue abrode, learne at home with Socrates. And since that he endured twayne at once, and other haue abydden moe to∣geather, do not thou fal to the ground vnder one burden.

Sorowe.

I haue an vnquiet wyfe.

Reason.

Vnto whom may it not happen to haue an vnquiet wyfe, vnlesse it be to hym that altogea∣ther abstayneth from marriage? since that Hadriane the Empe∣rour, and the moste excellent and courteous Prince Augustus, the one hauyng to wyfe Sabina, the other Scribonia, were both troubled with crabbed and vnquiet peeces, and of very rough be∣hauiour, wel deseruyng to be diuorsed: and Cato lykewyse, sur∣named Censorius, beyng a man of so seuere and inuincible a mynde as he was, hapned to marrie with one called Paula, a fierce and proude woman, and, that thou mayest marueyle the more at the matter, descended of a base and obscure familie: whiche I doo note the rather, to the entent that no man may hope that he can escape the troubles of marryage eyther by matchyng with a wyfe of a base stocke, or poore callyng, other

wyse then by keeping hym selfe alwayes vnmarryed: but those whiche he cannot escape, set hym learne to beare them with pa∣tience, and not vexe hym selfe with kickyng and stryuing against them, and boastyngly sha••pen that yoke whiche he hath wylling∣ly vndertaken.

Sorowe.

I suffer an importunate, and an vntamed wyfe.

Reason.

Thou dooest well, for that muste be borne whiche cannot be layde downe, yea, although it doo wryng.

Sorow.

I haue a most vnquiet wyfe.

Reason.

Thou hast an occasion whereby to wyn the commendacion of patience, whereby to wyshe for quietnesse, whereby to loue to trauayle from home, and to be loath to returne, where both thy tongue and thy sticke must needes be walking.

Of the stealing away of a mans wyfe. The .xx. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

MY wyfe is stolne away.

Reason.

All violence, I confesse, is grieuous vnto hym that suffereth it: but yf thou consyder of this matter indifferently, I pray thee what cause of griefe bryngeth it? forasmuche as yf thy wyfe were an vnquiet woman, the losyng of her is the releasyng from a payneful hurden.

Sorowe.

My wyfe is stolne away.

Reason.

If he be rewarded that cureth some griefe of the bo∣dy, what is he woorthy to haue that relieueth the troubles of the mynd? If a Phisition should free thee of a Tertian Feuer, thou wouldest geue hym both thankes and money: and what wylt thou now geue hym that hath ryd thee of a Cotidian?

Sorowe.

My wyfe is taken from me.

Reason.

Thou knowest not howe muche thou art beholden to hym that hath taken her a∣way, great care, and perpetual braulyng, and perhaps also no small daunger, is with thy wyfe departed out of thy doores. Many haue been destroyed, who doubtlesse hadde lyued, yf that by stealyng or otherwyse they had lost theyr wyues: among the mischiefes of this lyfe, there is none worse then domesticall disagreement.

Sorowe.

My wyfe is

stolne away, and gone.

Reason.

If she be forcibly caryed away, forgeue her: but yf she be gone willyngly, by one deede thou art doubly reuenged: For the Harlot is gone to her Knaue, and he hath carried that, whiche annoyed thee, into his owne house. For what maner of woman may her sweete hart hope that she wyll be vnto hym, that hath shewed her selfe so louing and trustie to her husbande?

Sorowe.

My wife is gone willyngly with him that carried her away.

Reason.

Let hym alone awhyle: it wyll not be long before he be weery of that whiche troubled thee. If men woulde consider with them selues, what they goe about before they commit any wicked deede, they woulde not throwe them selues downe headlong so hastily into offences: But nowe the repentance that foloweth them, condempneth theyr feruent appetites. You see nothyng but that whiche is doone, your eyes are in your backe, your face is blynde.

Sorow.

My wife is stolne from me.

Reason.

This kinde of miurie not so muche as kinges coulde escape: for Masinissa stole away Syphax wyfe, and so dyd Herode Philips.

Sorowe.

My wyfe is stolne away.

Reason.

That whiche hath once hapned vnto thee, hapned twyce vnto Menelaus.

Of an vnchast wife. The .xxi. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Haue an vnchast wyfe at home.

Reason.

It were better that she were stollen away, or were a shrewe, and of rough manners, rather then of wanton and dishonest behauiour: Notwithstanding, who so is of a liuely spirite, and valiant courage, and contemneth all mortal thynges, muste endure whatsoeuer may happen. Mens miseries are innumerable, a∣gaynst all whiche only vertue is opposed.

Sorowe.

I haue a dishonest wyfe.

Reason.

Notable and excellent chastitie, hath made certayne matrones to arrogant. She feareth nothyng, who is gyltie to her selfe of nothing. And therfore that discōmoditie bringeth this benefite with it, that she wyl be∣gin now hereafter to be lesse saucie and insolent: For a giltie conscience abateth the swelling pride of a womans minde, and commonly she that knoweth that she hath trode her shoe awrye,

wilbe afterwarde the more seruiceable to her husband.

Sorowe.

I haue a wanton wife.

Reason.

Thou must not wonder at that if she be faire, & if she be foule thou needest not care for it.

Sorow.

My wife is incontinent.

Reason.

When a man bryngeth a fayre wyfe into his house, he ought also to remember the saying of the Satiryke Poet, Beautie and honestie do seldome dwel to gea∣ther: but yf she be a foule slut, and do so abuse her selfe, thou may∣est reioyce that thou hast founde so iuste a cause to be diuorsed from her.

Sorowe.

My wyfe hath cōmitted adulterie.

Reason.

Adulterie many tymes hapneth vpon ouerhastie desire of mar∣riage, and often tymes also it is the punyshment of another mans adulterie, and the more iust if it be of many. Recount with thy selfe, whether thou euer diddest that vnto another, whereby thou mayest thynke this worthily doone vnto thee. It is an vniust and an vnreasonable complaint, to be grieued to suffer that, which thy selfe hast doone: and the morall lawe wylleth to looke for that at another mans handes, whiche thou hast doone to another: and to do that vnto another, whiche thou wouldest haue hym doo vnto thee: truely, it is so excellent a lawe, that the Heathen haue commended it, beyng ledde therevnto by the indifferencie and grauitie of the saying. But the licentiousnesse of humane wan∣tonnesse, beyng the repealer of al holsome lawes, dooth vtterly confounde al ryght and wrong. And thus then it hapneth, that adulterers sometyme do meete togeather, who when they haue defiled theyr neyghbours wyues, yet can they not abyde theyr owne wiues so much as once to be seene in open streate: and yf they perceiue that any man dooth but looke vppon them, they wil immediatly be redy to runne mad for iclousie: So seuere vnto o∣thers, so partial vnto him selfe, so vndiscrete a considerer of mat∣ters is euery particuler man.

Sorowe.

My wife hath broken her wyfely fidelitie towards me.

Reason.

See that thou breake not the same, not only vnto other married men, but also vnto thine owne wyfe. For there be some that requyre that of theyr wyues, whiche they them selues doo not performe, excusyng theyr wan∣tonnes vnder the title of dalliance, & punishing the same in others most seuerely as a most grieuous offence, who in geuyng all li∣bertie to them selues, deny al things vnto other. Most vnequal

judges, who beyng them selues vnchaste, do geue sentence a∣gainst incontinencie in others, and them selues will doo what they luste without controulment, and are caried away after vn∣certayne and wandering venerie, as if they were subiect to no lawe. If the poore wife doo but looke a litle awrye, she is straight waies accused of whoordome: as though their hus∣bandes were theyr maisters, and not theyr husbandes, and they not theyr wyues and fellowes in the house and familie both of GOD and man, but were rather their handmaydens taken prysoners in battayle, or bought for money: and as though thy wyfe ought thee more seruice, or fidelitie, then thou her: for there ought to be lyke duetie, equal loue, and mutual fidelitie in marriage. I excuse not wyues, but I accuse husbands, and put them in the greatest part of the blame. And many times the husbande is an example, and procurer of his wyfe vnto folly, and many tymes there hath rysen the begynning of the mischief, where ought to haue been the remedie: although shamefastnesse be the proper ornament of a woman, and wysedome and constan∣cie the peculiar commendacion of a man. And therefore all folly and lightnesse of mynde, is by so muche the more foule in a∣man then in a woman, by howe muche grauitie is the more re∣quyred in a man.

Sorowe.

I am heauie for my wyues whore∣dome.

Reason.

A common sorowe, an auncient iniurie, and no lesse frequented. For (alas I speake it with bitter griefe) Ma∣riage is not more commonly vsed, then is whoredome: and to speake in fewe woordes, it is a thyng, as one sayeth, whiche can neyther be suffered, nor prohibited, for that honestie forbid∣deth the one, and letcherie the other. Dooest thou looke then to haue thyne only woman wholy to thy selfe, whiche thyng coulde neuer happen, no not to the most cruel Tyrantes that euer were, nor to the moste mightie Princes that euer raigned, not in thyne age only, but in any heretofore? I omit late examples, least haply I offende some that are lyuyng at this present, it were better to stryke Hercules, then a Clowne of the Countrey: ney∣ther wyl I touche al auncient examples, but spare the good name and estimation of the moste dread and noble men. But thou knowest them well, and although they say nothyng, yet represse

thou thy mournyng, or els peruse the Citie, searche neere hande among thy neyghbours, and at eche hande thou shalt find plentie, that eyther lament the losse of theyr good name, and the abandoned fidelitie of theyr marryage bed, or that, contrary to theyr opinion, are laughed to scorne of the common people. These thyngs are ordinarie, not only to be heard with eares, but also to be seene with eyes, whereof thou shalt not mysse in what part soeuer of the world thou trauaylest. Howbeit the grea∣ter the examples be, the greater is the comfort. Thynke vppon those Kynges and Lordes of the worlde, whom thou hast seene, and then call to mynde those of whom thou hast read, or hearde of by report. Looke vpon the fable of Kyng Arthure, and the Hi∣tories of other: consyder of Olympias that was wyfe vnto Philip, and Cleopatra to Ptolomeê, and Clytemnestra to Agamemnon, and Helen to Menelaus, and Pasiphè to Mi∣nos, & Phaedra to Theseus: neyther woulde I haue thee to thynke that the citie of Rome, whiche in olde tyme was as it were the Temple of shamefastnesse and honestie, is free from this mischiefe. Cal to mynde Metella, whiche was wyfe to that Sylla, who yf he had knowne of his wyfes whoordome, whiche was commonly spoken of, not only at Rome and ouer al Ita∣lie, but also at Athens and ouer all Greece, veryly I sup∣pose he woulde not haue vsurped the name of happie, whiche apparteyned nothyng vnto hym. Next vnto her thynke vp∣pon Iulia the wyfe of Agrippa, whom on the one syde the woorthynesse of her husbande, on the other the Maiestie of her father, ought to haue stayed from wickednesse: and also her daughter, nothing vnlyke the mother eyther in name or lasci∣uiousnesse: and lykemyse Iulia the wyfe of Seuerus, who folowed theyr steppes both in lyfe and fortune: an vnluckie name (I thynke) for the preseruation of honestie. What shall I say of Domicia, the wyfe of Domician? What of Herculanilla the wyfe of Claudius? Or forasmuche as this Emperours fortune was to haue Whoores to his Wyues, what shall I saye of Messalina, that was a most foule blemyshe and reproche to the whole Empyre? Who leauyng the bed of her lasie and weeried husband the Emperour,

vsed to goe about to the Stewes and brothel houses, committing that there, whiche were shamefull to report? To what end should I briefly touch these, or any other? or what brothell house were not to litle to receiue all the strumpettes that were Emperours wyues? the rehearsyng of whose names, I confesse were neither honest, neyther in any part extenuateth the offence of adulterie, but maketh it rather more grieuous? Neuerthelesse, the likenesse that men do perceyue in the miseries and troubles of others vnto theyr owne, carrieth with it no small efficacie of comfort: not that any man is so spiteful to reioyce at other mens harmes, but rather that it might be meeryly saide to be an intollerable deintie∣nesse, or pride, for a man of meane callyng to take that impatient∣ly, whiche he knoweth that the Lordes of all the worlde haue so often suffred. Euery man muste take his owne fortune in good part. Whiche that they ought to tollerate with more indifferency then a common chaunce, it is wel knowne vnto all men, aswell to the smallest as the greatest, as also who so were moste ouer∣thwart to graunt a veritie. And therfore thou seest, howe not on∣ly women that are married vnto husbands, but also virgins that are vowed vnto God, do fal sometime into this crime, and, alas there while, neither the reuerence of their so mightie a spouse, is able to bridle their vnhappye and headlong soule. For, whom wil vnrestrained and frantike letcherie spare, which standeth not in feare of reuenge from God? or from whom wyl it absteyne, whi∣che leaueth not the bodyes, which are consecrated to God, vnde∣filed? Whiche so great and heynous monsters of most filthie lust and lasciuiousnesse, are not seene only in this our age, although in indifferent iudgement there were neuer any more shamefull, or that deserued the reuengement of greater offence, but also in that age, in whiche wickednesse was as geason, as vertue is nowe, and in whiche it was punyshed more extreamely then at anye tyme before or since. Yea, the Vestale Virgyns them selues, vnto whose most pure chastitie, the Tribunitian and Cen∣forian aucthoritie refused not to geue place, whom also we fynde to haue been taken vppe into the Charrettes of them that rode in triumph, least that theyr triumphe shoulde haply be hyndered by any, & to be short, who we reade to haue sauod from punysh∣ment

suche offenders as they mette goyng vnto execution, and to haue reuoked the force of the lawes, and sentence of death, onely in reuerence and regarde of theyr Virginitie: in whom on the other syde, not onely a fylthie deede, but also lyght ie∣sture, apparrell, or speech, was not suffered, without sharpe pu∣nyshment and infamie: neuerthelesse some of them, vnmindfull both of theyr honour and honestie, and of the terrour ensuyng thereof, and of the most horrible crime of adulterie, or rather in∣cest, haue been buried quicke in the earth, as it appeareth in histo∣ries. Goe thy wayes nowe, and beyng ouerwhelmed with so manie, and so notable, and so holie examples, in so great a ruine and ouerthrowe of honestie, to the great reproche of so many no∣ble personages, bewayle thou the crazed fidelitie of a meane and inferiour bed.

Sorowe.

My wyfe is an adulteresse.

Reason.

The same hath been an occasion vnto some men of changyng theyr lyfe to the better, who beyng discharged of the fetters of matrimonie, and castyng of that heauie burden, haue clym∣bed vp to an hygher degree. And what shall let thee, to make this thy wyues fylthinesse, the fyrst steppe vnto thyne aduaunce∣ment to a lyfe of more libertie? Some tyme a burden, and many tymes a companion haue stayed the feete that woulde haue gone apace. If thou goe alone and without carriage, thou shalt goe the faster whyther soeuer thou pretendest to goe.

Sorowe.

I am defamed through my wyues dishonestie.

Reason.

By another mans offence a man may susteyne losse and sorowe, but not infamie: as of another mans vertue, he may conceyue ioy, but can win no glorie: it is thyne owne vertue or vice only, that can make thee glorious or infamous.

Sorowe.

I am touched with my wyues infamie

Reason.

Eyther hold thy peace, or flee from it, or reuenge it. The middle of these dyd that holy man followe, who won a surname by his simplicitie. And truely touch∣ing the first of these, it is too gentle, and the thyrd, too hard: as for the middle, it seemeth more commendable, and agreeable with the nature of a man, specially suche men whose callyng is of the middle degree. For it were in vayne to goe about to make a law ouer the proude mightie sort: wyll, lust, anger, pangues, these are the lawes of mightie insolencie. They are of opinion, that euery

wounde shoulde be cut away with any instrument: but in deede there be many that neede no instrument of inc sion, but may be cured onely by playsters, and fomentations.

Sorowe.

My wyfe is dishonest.

Reason.

If thou canst be content to suffer, perhappes continuance of tyme, and trouble, and toylyng, and chyldren, and pouertie, will reclayme her: yea, very shame hath ben a profitable bridle vnto many.

Sorowe.

My wife is gone away with infamie.

Reason.

Pray that she returne no more, for to wyshe that she were not gone, is nowe too late.

Sorowe.

My wyfe is gone away after her adulterer.

Reason.

Haddest thou rather that she had brought hym into thy chamber? This shame and regard of estimation hath mooued the vnchast woman at least wise to leade her filthie lyfe far of from thee, she hath auoy∣ded thy sight, and was ashamed to abyde in thy presence: and therefore thou hast to accuse her dishonestie, and not her flyght.

Sorowe.

My filthie wyfe is gone.

Reason.

If thou be sorie for that, thou art woorthie that she had carried with thee, and that she soone returned vnto thee.

Of a barren VVyfe. The .xxij. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Haue a barren Wyfe.

Reason.

Barrennesse is one reme∣die of the inconueniences of marriage, for it maketh women obedient and humble. She that bringeth many children, think∣eth her selfe no longer to be a wife, but a Ladie: but she that is barren, weepeth, and holdeth her peace. Dooest thou not remem∣ber Helcana?

Sorowe.

I haue hapned vpon a barren wyfe.

Reason.

Thou complaynedst erewhyle of thy wyues inconti∣nencie, and now thou findest fault with her barrennesse: But yf thy fyrst complaint were iust, then is this thy seconde vniust. It is expedient for an incontinent man to haue a barren wyfe, for then shall he not keepe an other mans chyldren, whiche is a more odi∣ous and greeuous thing, then any the wyues iniurie or filthinesse whatsoeuer: yf it be a woful case to haue an adulterous wyfe, it is more miserable to haue a fruiteful wyfe.

Sorowe.

My wyfe is barren.

Reason.

See that thou doo not that whiche many

a one dooeth, obiect thyne owne fault to another. Many women beyng married vnto some one man, haue seemed barren, whiche when they haue been married vnto other men haue had chyldren.

Sorowe.

My wyfe is barren.

Reason.

How knowest thou what manner of sonne she would beare thee, yf she were fruiteful? The byrthes of some women haue made their fruitefulnesse hate∣full, and therefore to haue been wyshed that they had been barren. The Empire of Rome had not suffered and abydden those cruell monsters of men, Caius, Caligula, Nero, Commodus, Bassia∣nus, yf that Germanicus, of Domitius, yf Marcus Antonius. yf Septimus Seuerus, had had no wyues at all, or els yf they had been barren.

Of an vnchast Daughter. The xxiij. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

MY Daughter is too nice.

Reason.

It is reported, howe that Augustus the Emperour was wont to say, that he had two delicate and nice Daughters, whom both notwithstanding he must suffer, to wit, the Com∣mon wealth, and his daughter Iulia. But as for his daughter Iulia, he sayde that he knewe that she was of a pleasant dispo∣sition and merrie, euen vnto the resemblance of incontinencie, but was assured that she was free from any dishonest deede dooyng. Howbeit the most wyse prince, in so thynkyng, was deceyued in them both: For the Common wealth had then begun to degene∣rate from the auntient vertue and integritie thereof, and his daughter wast not onely nice, and wanton, but also shamefully reported of, and her good name blemyshed with reproches, whiche the father onely neuer hearde of, and at length, though too late fyrst, brake foorth into the lyght: notwithstandyng accordyng to this signification, thy Daughter may be nice, but honest enough. Which thing though I graunt thee, neuerthelesse it can not be denied, but that nicenesse & delicatenesse are the redie way vnto woorishnesse.

Sorowe.

My Daughter beginneth to waxe wanton.

Reason.

Looke vnto her at the begyn∣nyng:

hard thynges require an instument of iron to take them away, but tender thynges are plucked away with a mans fyn∣gers. Who so is desirous to haue an habite, or the perfect vse of any thyng, let hym begynne in his youth to practice it, whe∣ther it be in hym selfe, or another. Young thynges are easily fashioned, and turned whiche way soeuer a man lyst.

Sorowe.

My Daughter waxeth lasciuious.

Reason.

Withdrawe her daintie fare, take from her, her soft & braue apparrel, her Ringes, and Bracelets, and other Iewelles, and what euer she hath els, wherein eyther she taketh delyght her selfe, or indeuoureth to please other. Lay vpon her other care of housholde, stint her at sewing and spynning, or whatsoeuer woorke thou canst deuise to make harde her soft and delicate handes. Restrayne her from common shewes, and resort of people. Keepe her within doores vppon Holidayes, leaue her no tyme to thynke vppon vayne and vnprofitable matters. Businesse, and labour, and homely appar∣rell, and hard fare, and solitarinesse, and continuall bendyng of the minde vppon one thyng, moreouer a beloued and feared wit∣nesse, often warnynges, gentle threatninges, and if neede require, some tyme sharper: these be the doores and barres of chastitie agaynst dishonestie, and that keepe of inuadyng and assaultyng passions from entryng into an idle mynde, and abandon them yf they be entred.

Sorowe.

My Daughter is dishonest.

Reason.

This is the counsayle of Ecclesiasticus, Take diligent heede ouer thy dishonest Daughter, lest that she chaunce to bryng thee to shame. Although there be nothyng that thou couldest suf∣fer more greeuous then this, neuerthelesse yf thou leaue no part of thy fatherly duetie vndoone, thou hast wherewithal to comfort thy sorowe: For the griefe may be thyne, but neyther the shame, nor the fault, forasmuche as it is a very harde matter to brydle the mynde that is prone vnto lust and viciousnesse, and a thyng that is impossible for man to doo, vnlesse that GOD set to his helpyng hande. For the force of the affection is so great and dis∣ordinate, that many tymes the father in vayne, in vaine the bre∣thren, in vayne the husbande also stryueth agaynst it. And no mar∣ueyle, since it is written, I am not able to lyue continent, vnlesse GOD geue me the grace. Howbeit, this is no excuse for dishonestie,

for GOD graunteth it vnto as many as require it at his handes with a pure fayth, and whiche endeuour of them selues what in them lyeth, acknowledgyng whose gyft it is, and estee∣myng truely of it, and of the auctour thereof.

Sorowe.

My Daughter is an Harlot.

Reason.

If shee be married, then is thy sonne in lawe partaker of thy sorowe: thou hast also Augustus the Emperour, both to be vnto thee a companion of the iniurie, and an example of the reuengement.

Of shame commyng from another. The .xxiiij. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Am slaundred for an other mans offence.

Reason.

I tolde thee erewhyle, and true it is, that the griefe of another mans offence may touche thee, but so can not the infamie. I tell thee true. And yf it be a false infamie, though for the tyme it be greeuous, yet is it not durable, and to make infamie or glorie durable; thou must looke into thyne owne fielde, and prune the vine of thy minde with thine owne sickle.

Sorowe.

I am so∣rie for another mans fault.

Reason.

Truely I beleeue thee. But reioyce then in thyne owne innocencie, vnlesse thou greeue more at other mens matters, then at thyne owne, for the inheri∣taunce of fame descendeth not as doth the inheritaunce of a patri∣monie, for yf it were so, it myght sometyme be refused. No man is constrayned to take vppon hym a burdensome and infamous inheritaunce: for as I sayde before, it descendeth not by succession of name: there is no degree of kyndred expected in this matter. whether thou desyre to haue a glorious or obscure name, it must come from thy selfe, and not from another, and therein thine owne desartes are necessarie. There is a tyme when as another mans deedes can neyther defame thee, nor commende thee. To what purpose dooest thou expect the Carrier, or the Post, or the Testa∣tour? or repose any trust in thy most louing and noble auncetours, thy Father or Grandfather? or to what ende art thou afearde of any of them, to become infamous or obscure, by any of their meanes? Truely by neyther sort of them commeth eyther esti∣mation,

or discredite. Fame is not bequeathed, but won.

Sorow.

I am ouerburdened with the infamie of my friendes.

Reason.

It is rather thine owne fansie that oppresseth thee, whiche is one of the cheefest rootes of humane miserie. Cast of that, and thou shalt lyghten thy selfe of a false burden.

Sorowe.

I am diffa∣med with the offences of my friendes.

Reason.

I denie that it is possible to be so, howbeit I confesse, that it were better for thee to be diffamed for other mens crimes, then that other men should be for thyne: For more heauie is the weyght of offence, then infa∣mie, for where offence is, there is perfect miserie. And contrari∣wyse, false infamie hath no part of perfect and true miserie, as hath false glorie, although the one vexe the mindes of the common multitude, and the other delyght them.

Sorowe.

I can not choose, but be greeued & touched with the infamie of my friendes.

Reason.

To be touched is charitable, to be discomforted is wretched. And therefore, whyle there are some remnantes of hope remayning, be careful for the good name of thy friendes, and haue respect vnto the vnquietnesse and trouble whiche thou hast con∣ceyued. If all hope be gone, my counsayle is, layng them aside, to put of all greefe and vexation: for to endeuour in vayne, and seeke for matter of sorowfulnesse, is a lyke madnesse.

Sorowe.

I am blamed for my seruauntes crimes.

Reason.

Thou art woorthily punished for thy patience, and too muche suffe∣ryng, when thou myghtest haue auoyded that ignominie, by punyshyng and correctyng the aucthours of the mischiefe.

Sorowe.

But I am molested with reproches, whiche are due vnto them that can not easily be corrected, nor put away.

Reason.

Who be they, I pray thee? For, as touchyng the correction of the parentes, it is in no wyse permitted to the chyldren. And therefore by that meanes there can growe no infamie, but rather in vpryght iudgement, there wyll spryng vp vnto thee as it were a certayne bryghtnesse out of the darke: for since vnto vertue difficultie is proper, it is muche more harder to keepe the ryght way vnder conduct of obscure, then famous leaders, and Captaynes. But yf it be thy wyues, what in that case thou oughtest to doo, and whose remedie to remember, I haue alredie declared. Yf of thy

chyldren, note what men what manner of chyldren they haue had, as Fabius Maximus, and Scipio Africanè, and Pom∣peius the great: for I followe not nowe the order of Empire and ryches, but of age and glorie: and what manner one Vespasians last was, or Aurelius Antoninus onely, or Se∣uerus eldest sonne? What manner ones also, though in another kynde, had Hortensius and Cicero? And lastly what a daugh∣ter Augustus the Emperour had, or what a sonne Germani∣cus? and thou shalt see great darkenesse to haue spring out of great lyght, and thou shalt also perceyue, how this euyll fortune in chyldren, I knowe not by what chaunce, doth most accusto∣mably creepe into the most honourable families, and that euery one hath that way one griefe and imperfection or another, ey∣ther vnknowen to the next neyghbours, or not regarded. There are not lackyng also examples of Brethren, and Nephues. Onely I haue set downe those, whose shame may seeme most greeuous vnto a man, and to touche hym neerest. The order and reason is like in all, that the blemishes of another person what so euer he be, can not hang or be fastened vppon any man agaynst his wyll.

Of Infamie. The .xxv. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Am oppressed with myne owne Infamie.

Reason.

I was affearde least thou were oppressed with thyne owne con∣science.

Sorowe.

I am greeued with shamefull infa∣mie.

Reason.

If it be deserued, lament not the infamie, but the cause of the infamie: but yf it be vndeserued, contemne the errours of men with a valient courage, and comfort thy selfe with the testimonie of a good conscience.

Sorowe.

I susteine great infamie.

Reason.

Thou gronest vnder a burden of wind: thus naturally the weakenesse of the bearer, maketh a light bur∣den heauie.

Sorowe.

There is great infamie rysen vpon my name.

Reason.

It skilleth much vpon what rootes it is sprung vp: yf vppon trueth, it wyll continue, and encrease: other∣wyse

it wyll wither and fall away quickly.

Sorowe.

There is great slaunder growen vnto me.

Reason.

Thou sayest wel, yf thou speake of the blowyng of it abrode: For fame is but a blast, yea that fame is but the breath of an impure mouth often∣tymes, whiche dooeth so muche shake you, and make you afeard. But vehement infamie in deede, hath been vnto many the begin∣nyng of great fame and renowme: For the common multitude hath been often ashamed of their owne dooinges, and that after their olde custome and manner they myght heape one errour vp∣pon another, and exclude all meane and measure from euery thyng, haue at length obscured a small infamie, with immoderate prayses.

Sorowe.

On euery syde I am sorely slaundered.

Reason.

Whyle the windes ruffle rounde about thee, returne thou into the Hauen, and from the stormes of thyne eares, with∣drawe thy selfe into the closet of thyne hart, whiche yf it retayne it owne tranquilitie, then hast thou a place where to rest thy selfe from the weerisomnesse of chyding and brawlyng, and as the common saying is, Reioyce in thyne owne bosome.

Sorow.

My fame is blemished, but my conscience is cleere.

Reason.

Haddest thou rather then, that thy fame and estimation were re∣nowmed, and thy conscience foule and blemished? And is that say∣ing of Horace altogether true, False honour delyghteth, and ly∣uyng infamie maketh men afearde? O most vayne vanitie. True thynges in deede may delyght men, or make them afearde, but to dread shadowes is not the part of a man.

Sorowe.

The bur∣den of infamie is heauie.

Reason.

If it be geathered by wic∣kednesse, I confesse it is heauie, yf it come by chaunce, it is but lyght, but yf it happen through any honest endeuour, it is glori∣ous: For that infamie whiche is purchased by honest meanes, is a prayse. Let fooles insult ouer thee, but reioyce thou in so noble a gayne, to wit, in vertue, whiche is a most rare and dayn∣tie merchandize, although thou hast wonne it, paying therefore a great price, whiche is the losse of thy good name. He is the true louer and pursuer of vertue, who in the followyng after her, thin∣keth vpon nothyng but her onely. And although contempt in other thynges be famous, yet most famous is the neglectyng and despising of fame in the studie of vertue, although I confesse that

vnto valiant and noble mynds, fame is not only dearer then gold, but muche more precious then lyfe it selfe. Who so therfore nec∣lecteth fame for the loue of vertue, contemneth this, it may be thought that he wyll contemne any thyng, whiche I would haue thee well knowe to be an excellent, but a very rare thyng, for∣asmuche as the most parte of them that woulde seeme to folowe the studie of vertue, when they haue once taken holde of the fame of it, doo immediatly waxe so colde in the action thereof, that it may easily be perceyued, that they sought nothyng els but only that whereof they haue taken holdfast.

Sorowe.

Many doo greeuously diffame me.

Reason.

Moe in olde tyme spake e∣uyll of Eabius, and many more greeuously of Scipio Africane, which turned to theyr great glory. That this fortune is common vnto thee with such worthy personagies, leaue of to cōplaine, for it hath hapned vnto very fewe, neuer in any respect to be touched with infamie. A mans good name is a very dayntie thyng, and is blemyshed many tymes vpon smal occasions. And to be short, as there is nothyng more cleare then good fame, so is there no∣thyng more apt to be obscured, or redy to receyue externall ble∣mishes.

Sorowe.

I am stayned with greeuous infamie.

Reason.

This plague is most hurtfull vnto dread and reuerend names, it hath not spared also the most holy & vertuous persons, whose Lorde and maister was voyde of all maner of crime, not∣withstandyng in that he was slaundered and defamed by the wic∣ked, it is an argument that men muste not hope to escape from that, whiche hapned vnto God hym selfe.

Sorowe.

I am molested with sharpe infamie.

Reason.

For vertue not to be assaulted with enuie, it is almost impossible: it is sufficient yf she be not therewith ouerthrowne: and yf glory be beaten agaynst slaunder, if so be it be pure and sounde glory, it waxeth the brigh∣ter for the rubbyng.

Sorowe.

I am vexed with bitter slaun∣der.

Reason.

Common report beyng driuen with the whirle∣wyndes of blinde ignorance, striketh the very tops of the highest things, but if it shaketh not them, or if it shake them, it ouerthro∣weth them not. Take this for a certayne token of excellencie in thee, in that thou art fallen among the tongues of the common people, as yf it were among so many dangerous rockes. For base

names, and suche as in a maner creepe lowe by the grounde, doo neyther receyue the lyght of notable prayse, nor yet the darkenes of great infamie: moste commonly that whiche is contemned, is at quiet.

Sorowe.

The common people geue me an yl report.

Reason.

It is well that thou art so ryfe in theyr tongues, and not in theyr pennes: the speeche of the common people is sharpe, but not permanent: thyngs that ryse vpon smal or false causes, muste needes be short, and when men haue barked ye∣nough, they wyll then holde theyr peace: they that begyn so fiercely, are commonly the sooner weeryed.

Sorowe.

I am troubled with the tongues of the common people.

Reason.

Howe yf thou haddest hapned to lyght vpon the style of some no∣table Oratour, or Poet? as many haue doone in tymes past, whom we see to be left infamous vnto posteritie, through the elo∣quence of theyr enimie, as the noble sygh of kyng Alexander, who enuied at Achilles that he hapned vpon so noble a Poet as Homer was: so feareful was this most excellent prince to incur the displeasure of learned & eloquent men, least haply they should wryte any thyng sharply agaynst hym: although a man ought not to be quayled at the speeches of slaunderous writers, but ra∣ther theyr slaunder is to be refelled, eyther with lyke sharpenesse of style, as dyd Cicero agaynst Salust, and Demosthenes agaynst Aeschines, and Cato agaynst innumerable, or els to be resisted with notable boldnesse and courage of mynde, more then euer Actor expressed vppon the Theater: and the lyke muste be sayde vnto that which Vatinius aunsweared vnto Caluus, when he hadde fynished his pleadyng, I am not condemned, because he is eloquent. Howbeit nowe there is no danger, synce that the common people for the more part doo continually prattle of some one matter or other, but long it is not ere they leaue of, beyng thereunto mooued eyther by wyll, or constraint. For a day wyll come, that shall put to silence these charmyng and chyrpyng Grashoppers, and make them gladde to lyue at rest.

Sorowe.

I am dif∣famed among the common people.

Reason.

Endeuour that thou mayest retayne a good name with thy selfe, and a

perpetuall and true good fame among the better sort: As for this whereof thou nowe complaynest, it wyll vanyshe away. You vayne and fearefull generation of mortall men, what dooth this short and blynde murmure of flatterers and slaunderers touche you? There shall come some hereafter, that wyll iudge more freely and indifferently: And who are those iud∣ges, perhappes thou wylt aske me? Yee can not knowe them, but they shall knowe you: I meane them that shalbe borne after you, who shall neyther be mooued with hate or malice to∣wardes thee, nor be borne away with loue, or hope, or feare of thee: If you woulde haue vpryght iudgement geuen vpon your dooynges, then tary and expect those iudges: The tyme of theyr staying wyll not be long: they come a pace, and loe, they wyll be heere anone.

Sorowe.

I haue incurred in∣famie by my notable deedes and vertue.

Reason.

There is a tyme wherein the loue of losse is nooryshed, and encrea∣seth by trauayle, and, whiche is a strange matter to be spoken, geathereth deepe rootes in a bytter and mischeuous soyle: wher∣by it commeth to passe, that a man shall see those to be moste desyrous of factions, who haue some tyme been most gree∣uously punyshed for the lyke: and this is a matter to to com∣mon and vsuall in your cities. And therefore there is none that more loueth iustice or trueth, then he that hath offered hym selfe vnto tormentes and death for the same. Doo thou therefore loue vertue also, and embrace it more and more, for whiche thou hast lost thy good name, then whiche there is nothyng more beautiful and precious, for the whiche also thou susteynest infamie, which is no small punyshment, and contemnyng and refusyng all other thynges, see thou em∣brace vertue only, whiche no man is euer able to take from thee, and saye thus vnto her, All these thynges, O Queene, doo I wyllyngly susteyne for thy sake, thou shalt restore me agayne into my perfect estate, or truely at leastwyse thou only shalt be vn∣to me in steede of al thinges, thou only noorishe me in thy sacred bosome, & so shal I not only not feele the losse of my good name, but not so much as the discommodities of my life.

Sorow.

I am

commonly euyl spoken of, yea in euery corner.

Reason.

Take it well a worth: The common multitude wyll make thee kno∣wen, thy vertue wyll make thee famous, and thy conscience carelesse.

Of shame procured by meanes of vnwoor∣thy commendation. The xxvi. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Am reprooued for praysing an vnworthie person.

Reason.

That whiche is euyl, many times springeth from a good roter and good and innocent persons, iudge others to be suche as they are them selues. Hereof then it proceedeth, that they are more redy to prayse other, then reason requireth: and although I confesse it be euyll to prayse an vnwoorthie person, yet to dis∣prayse a vertuous man, is farre more woorse.

Sorowe.

I haue praysed one that was vnwoorthie.

Reason.

If thou diddest it wittyngly, thou art blame woorthie: but yf through ig∣norance, thou art to be excused. It is not so euyl to be deceyued, as to deceyue: for, to be deceyued, belongeth to a man, but to de∣ceyue, is the peculiar fault of the deceiuer.

Sorowe.

Another mans prayse redoundeth to myne infamie.

Reason.

Nay ra∣ther it was eyther thy fault, or thyne ignorance: For, as there commeth no prayse, so commeth there also no infamie from a∣nother.

Sorowe.

I am very sory that I commended an vnwoorthie person.

Reason.

Take heede also that thou be not sory for this often: Be not ouerhastie to set thy selfe foorth to prayse or disprayse rashly, for men are commonly greedie vnto both: and to speake properly, this is a disease and a certayne ticklyng of the tongue, whiche is alwayes clackyng, and canne neuer stande styll: the brydelyng and re∣fraynyng wherof, is reckoned amongest the woorkes of syngu∣ler perfection, accordyng to the saying of the Scripture, Whoso offendeth not in woorde, be is a perfect man: In whi∣che thyng yee are to to often deceyued. And alas therewhyle,

that saying of the same Apostle is to much verified, That no man tan tame the tongue, beyng an vnquiet mischiefe. Wherefore, it thrusteth you foorth headlong dayly vnto lying, whom after∣warde your owne sway pricketh forwarde, and next after that, a false opinion of the thynges draweth you farther. For there be some who with theyr very looke or speache doo couer the vitious∣nesse of theyr maners: whiche thyng we haue hearde of in Al∣cibiades, and haue seene in many. There be some also that cloke theyr vertues with a contrary veyle, whether it be by the nature of theyr countenance, or the proper austeritie of their v∣sual speache, or by some art or studie purposely employed, con∣trary vnto that whiche the multitude commonly desyreth. For as there are manye that haue faygned them selues good, so haue there lykewyse been some founde who haue counterfeited them selues to be euyll, whereby they might eyther auoyde the pestilent ayre of humane fauour, or escape the hatefull bur∣den of temporall goodes: whiche thyng we reade of S. Am∣brose. Hereunto are adioyned loue and hatred, anger and en∣uie, hope and feare, with sundry other secrete affections of the mynd, & among these many that are altogeather vnknowen vnto vs: which are alwayes enimies vnto true iudgement. Adde here∣vnto moreouer, that the prayse of the lyuyng, by the expresse woorde of God, through the inconstancie of this mortal lyfe, is hyndred of continuance, howe muche more then discommendati∣on? Hereafter therefore, become slowe to prayse, but more slowe to disprayse: for synce eache of them, as I haue said, is an euyll errour, yet is the last woorst.

Sorow.

I haue erred in commendyng one vnwoorthie.

Reason.

By er∣ryng men doo learne, and often tymes one errour withstand∣eth many errours, and whyle men are ashamed to haue erred once, then doo they take heede, that the lyke errour take not holde of them. Thou hast praysed vnaduisedly, refrayne thy tongue: let this commoditie at leastwyse folowe this mis∣chiefe.

Sorowe.

I am ashamed and repent me, that I haue praysed an vnwoorthie person.

Reason.

Shame, and repentance, and sorowe, are certayne ladders and degrees

vnto amendement and saluation. There are fewe that can at∣tayne into the ryght way, but by wandryng through many bie wayes, and therefore we haue seene many who in theyr youth were seruantes vnto voluptuousnesse, in theyr olde age to be∣come friendes vnto vertue.

Of vnfaythfull friendes. The .xxvij. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Complayne of friendes.

Reason.

What wyll he doo of his foes, that complayneth of his friendes.

Sorowe.

I trye my friendes to be vnfaythfull.

Reason.

Thou speakest of an impossible matter. But to thynke that they were thy friendes that were not in deede, is not only not impos∣sible, but a common matter.

Sorowe.

My friendes are vnfaythful.

Reason.

All the worlde is ful of suche com∣playntes: and as for friendshyppe and infidelitie, they cannot a∣gree. Who so begynneth to be vnfaythful, leaueth of to be a friende, or rather, whiche I woulde sooner beleeue, was ne∣uer any. And forasmuche as all vertues are immortall, and all feignyng transitorie, fayth is not taken away, but feygnyng.

Sorowe.

I fynde vntrustie friendes.

Reason.

These that are falsly counted thy friendes, yf nowe they first begynne to dis∣close theyr trayterous hartes, then mayest thou reioyce to behold the ende of thyne errour, but take heede in the meane whyle that the infection of the disease take not holde on thee: but what∣soeuer they be, preserue thou the fayth of friendshyppe, and al∣though not in respect of the vndeserued, yet for thyne owne sake that hast deserued, be not infected with that plague, whiche thou shalt do the more willyngly, yf thou doo narrowly examine thy selfe howe muche thou art greeued with theyr vnfaythful∣nesse. And many tymes the hatred of vice, hath been an ear∣nest prouocation vnto vertue.

Sorowe.

Ʋndeseruedly haue I purchased the euyll wyll of my friendes.

Reason.

Citi∣zens are odious, fellowes odious, coosyns odious, wyues and

husbandes odious, brothers and sisters are odious, and fynal∣ly, the chyldren are odious vnto theyr parentes, and the parents to theyr chyldren. And to be short, there is no kinrede nor de∣gree of friendshyp whiche cannot be infected with hatred: Only sincere friendshyppe is free from this mischiefe. And betweene this and the other, this is the difference, that all the other, al∣though they haue hatred accompanying them, doo notwithstan∣dyng continue, and reteyne theyr names: but yf hatred be ioy∣ned vnto this, or yf loue departe from it, it can continue no longer vnder the name of friendshippe, for a friende can no more be hatefull, then loue can be odious.

Sorowe.

I suffer false friendes.

Reason.

If there be any hope of them, suffer them, vntyll suche tyme as they become trustie, and loue them hartily: For many with theyr luke warme loue haue vtterly quenched friendshyppe, or by small trustyng, haue taught other distrustinesse. But if so be thou doo not profite, and all hope be layde a water, then vse Catoes aduice, who in those friende∣shyppes whereof a man hath no lykyng, wylleth hym by litle and litle to ryppe them, and not sodaynely to breake them of, least that a double great mischiefe befall thereof, in that thou hast lost thy friendes, and purchased enimies: vnlesse per∣aduenture some more vrgent cause, which wyll suffer no tarri∣aunce, doo not permit thee to followe this discrete counsel: whi∣che yf it happen, it is to be counted among the greatest troubles of friendshyp, but it must be borne with a valiant mynde, as all o∣ther chaunces, and place muste be geuen vnto necessitie, and the tyme oveyed: but this chaunce is scarce knowen vnto true friendship.

Of vnthankeful persons. The .xxviij. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Fynde many vnthankefull, whiche is a great vice.

Reason.

To disprayse ingratitude were a needelesse mat∣ter: for all mens speache doo condemne it. There neede no trauayle be taken in perswadyng that, whereof all men are perswaded, and the opinion therof most fyrmely grafted in them. Some man placeth the chiefe felicitie, and some whole felicitie in

vertue only, and some in neither, but in pleasure, the enimie of ver∣tue. There be some also whiche holde opinion, that chastitie is the most beautifull ornament of this lyfe. Other some there be that contemne this in them selues, and in others they accounte it ridiculus, or truely very harde, and extreeme paynful: whiche S. Augustine, so excellent a man as he prooued afterwarde, per∣ceyued in hym selfe, where as he sayth, that S. Ambrose syngle lyfe seemed paynefull vnto hym, whiche vnto some other hath not only seemed a tedious, but also a damnable state of lyfe. Hereof commeth that example of Plato. who when he had long tyme ly∣ued a single and chaste lyfe, at the last it is read howe that he sa∣crificed vnto nature to make an attonement with her, whom he thought he had greeuously offended by lyuyng in suche order. It is strange, that so learned a man shoulde be of that opinion: but that he was so, it is out of all doubt. There be some also that count fortitude to be the moste excellent and soueraigne vertue: to receyue woundes with bent breast, to stayne the fielde with gore blood, and finally, to goe vnto death with a bolde courage. Some there be that ascribe all these thinges vnto extreame mad∣nesse, and iudge nothyng better then quiet and dastardly idlenesse. There shall some come also that wyll esteeme iustice to be the go∣uernour of humane affayres, & the mother of vertues: who shall beleeue that religion is the way vnto euerlastyng lyfe, and the ladder to climbe vp by vnto heauen. There shall other some come lykewyse on the contrary syde, that shall count iustice, cowar∣dice, and religion, madnesse and superstition: these are they of whom it is written, They are able to doo euery thyng, who affirme that all thynges appertayne vnto violent men. And not only in this kynd of violent men, and rauinous persons, but also among the multitude of learned men, home great ad∣uersaries iustice hath, it may easily be perceyued in the bookes of Cicero, whiche he wrote of a common wealth. There be some that with great and deserued commendations doo extoll the kee∣pyng of fayth and promises. There be othersome also that say it is no deceipt to breake fayth, but that it proceedeth from more knowledge, and a better wit. Whiche although it be the com∣mon opinion and saying of the most part of men at this present,

in Lactantius it is namely ascribed vnto Mercurie, saying, as he reporteth it, That it is no fraude to deceyue, but craftinesse: this is that woorthy god of wyse dome and eloquence. To be shorte, there is no vertue so commendable, but it shal finde some disprai∣sers: as for thankefulnesse, there is no nation so barbarus, no manners so sauage, which do not commend it, and no man euer that dyd not disprayse vnthankefulnesse. For admit a man be a theefe, a murderer, a traytour, an vnthankeful person, he shal not dare excuse his faulte, but denye it: whiche although it be so, ne∣uerthelesse there are innumerable vnthankeful persons. Neyther is there almost any one vice by so many condemned in woorde, whiche lykewise is by so many embraced in deede. What shal I conclude? Truely that it ought to be condemned, not onely in woord, but chiefely in mynde and iudgement, and of euery good maneschewed in hym selfe, and borne withal in another, as other thynges whereof mankynde hath plentie, wherewith the wicked do abounde, and the good are molested Suffer therefore, & chose rather to tollerate an vnthankeful person, then thy selfe to be one.

Sorowe.

I fynde many vnthankeful.

Reason.

Take heede there be no fault in thy selfe. For there are many, that whyle they wyl seeme to be liberal, they become boasters, and fault fynd∣ers, whiche are an hateful kinde of men, whose good turnes doo a man more hurt then helpe him. And that is nothyng els then to procure hatred by expence, which is a mad kynde of merchandize.

Sorow.

Hauing deserued wel, I suffer many that are vnmindful and vnthankeful.

Reason.

Doest thou greeue thereat? and wouldest thou change conditiō with them? Do not so I pray thee, where so euer the fault lye, let vertue be on thy side.

Sorowe.

I haue many that are vnthankeful.

Reason.

What wouldest thou haue me say to thee, that thou shouldest leaue to do wel, and hynder thy selfe for another mans faulte? Nay rather, doo thou contrarie, and where as thou hast many, prouide that thou mayst haue mo, whiche thou shalt haue yf thou doo good vnto many. For there are alwayes many vnthankeful, but most at this day, and I feare me least that shortly it wi••be a monster to finde a thankeful person: In suche forte dayly all thinges impaire, and goe backe warde: Suche is the importunacie of those that require

them, and the forgetfulnesse and pride of those that owe them, and yet notwithstandyng, men must not therefore leaue of, ney∣ther must we scratch out our eyes because the blynd can not see, but rather the blindnesse of other ought to make vs loue our eyes the more deerely.

Sorowe.

I haue founde many vnthankfull.

Reason.

Thinke with thy selfe, whether thou hast been so vnto many. One vnthankefulnesse punisheth another, as also in other thinges, for oftentimes one sinne is punishment to another.

Sorowe.

I haue done good vnto many vnthankefull persons.

Reason.

It is better to doo good vnto many vnwoorthy, then to be wanting vnto one woorthy person. Goe forward therefore, and lay not aside thy good maners in respect of hatred towarde the wicked, neyther surceasse to doo good vnto others, for that of some it is not accordyngly accepted: Perhappes hereafter they shal know thee better, but yf they do not, it shall suffice thee to knowe God and thy selfe. It is no true vertue whiche is not sufficed with the rewarde of it owne conscience.

Sorowe.

I haue had euill lucke by doyng good to many.

Reason.

Take heede that one mans fault hurte not anothers, and which is more greeuous, annoy not thee. Trie others, and perhappes it wyll fal out more fortunatly. Moreouer, some that haue been a long time vnthankefull, at length when shame hath touched their mindes, haue become most thankeful, and the lost hope of them hath been returned with great vauntage. And further, that whiche a debtour hath many tymes denied being required, one that hath been no debtour, hath willyngly offered: there was neuer any good deede lost. Who so doth wet, let hym thinke most of his owne estate. Only vertue doth good vnto many, but the grea∣test and chiefest parte of vertue, returneth vpon the woorker ther∣of. And therefore, although al men be euyll and vnthankefull, a good man must not ceasse to do well: for those thynges whiche he dispearseth among many, he heapeth vpon many, and is at leastwyse beneficiall to hym selfe, for not being an vnthanke∣ful person.

Sorowe.

I haue cast away benefites vpon vn∣thankeful persons.

Reason.

A couetous person wyl not sticke to giue somtime frankely: but liberalitie is the greater, the lesse there is hope of recompence.

Of euil seruauntes. The .xxix. Dialogue,

SOROWE.

I Am besieged with euyl seruauntes.

Reason.

Nowe sayest thou truely that thou art besieged, for before tyme thou see∣medst to thy selfe to be furnished and adorned with them, but in very deede thou wast besieged, not onely with an army of thy familiars, but also of thine enimies.

Sorowe.

I am op∣pressed with vnruly seruauntes.

Reason.

Thine owne armie fighteth agaynst thee, whiche is an vnpleasant matter.

Sorow.

I am besieged with proud seruauntes.

Reason.

And yet thou art constreyned to feede them that besiege thee, whiche is an ex∣treame necessitie.

Sorowe.

I am besieged with very euill, rauening, theeuishe, lying, and vnchaste seruauntes.

Reason.

What needest thou to roule in so many termes of thy seruaunts? Cal them seruauntes, and then thou hast sayde al.

Sorowe.

I am besieged with seruauntes, and what counsel doest thou geue me?

Reason.

What counsel shoulde I geue thee, or what els shoulde I say vnto thee, but the saying of Terence? Those thin∣ges whiche haue neyther reason nor measure in them, thou canst neuer gouerne by aduice. Notwithstandyng, Senecas counsell is wel knowen concernyng this matter: he wylleth a man to lyue familiarly, gently, & courteously with his seruauntes. But with what seruauntes? To wyt, with those, with whom to lyue in fa∣miliaritie wyl not engender contempt. He addeth moreouer, that correction, not of woordes, but of stripes, must be ministred, namely vnto suche as are deafe and sluggishe, and with a slowe pace contemne their maisters gentlenesse. Moreouer, that a mai∣ster ought to admit them vnto conference and company with hym in talke, in counsel, in feedyng. But whom I pray you? For∣sooth the saucie, foolyshe, drunken, vntrustie, insolent, which ney∣ther can wel vtter their minde, neyther can geue any good aduice, and which behaue them selues slouenly at meate, such as are care∣lesse of their maisters health & lyfe, liuing and good name, but are very diligent pursuers of their owne gluttonie & sensualitie. But he peraduenture gaue this counsel for this cause, for y^t he supposeth that to be true in a seruant, which before he had spoken of a frend,

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If thou trust hym, thou shalt make hym faythful. I suppose that thou doest not thynke, that frendes are made of the best sort of men, and seruantes of the woorst. Truely, if thou shouldest thinke a thousand yeere that a woolfe were a lambe, yet should he be a lambe neuer the sooner.

Sorowe.

I am besieged with ser∣uauntes, what counsel wouldest thou geue me?

Reason.

Neuer seeke for that else where, whiche is in thy selfe. Thou shalt not be besieged longer then thou wylt thy selfe: neyther should they now besiege thee, but only as it happeneth in euil gouerned and vn∣quiet cities, that one part of the minde, like a faction of seditious citizens, fauoureth the besiegers. Wouldest thou be deliuered of this euyl? Purge the state of thine owne minde. Chastice thy ser∣uauntes thou canst not, neyther by this aduice of Seneca, neyther by any others. If thou list to amende thy selfe, no man can forbyd thee. Abandon pompe, cast of pryde, and so shalt thou eyther driue away the hateful troupe of thy seruauntes, or els abate it.

Sorowe.

I am besieged with many ser∣uauntes.

Reason.

It is well, yf noyse and vaine glory be onely expected: but yf seruiceablenesse or pleasure, there is nothyng woorse. Seruauntes although they be good, whiche a man may accompt a strange thyng, yet there be fewe of them that do good seruice: They fal togeather by the eates amongest them selues, they murmure, they contend, one of them lookyng to an others hands: & in the meane while, some one of them sittyng idelly, fouldeth and rubbeth his handes, thynking it a great woorshyp to beare the countenance of a maister, and promisyng al thynges, thinketh nothyng better then to be idle. Of suche we speake nowe, who through a false profession pursu∣yng the delite of their idle bellie, do embase themselues vnto hum∣ble seruice, not onely voluntarily, but also importunatly. They are an innumerable company, but of a vile condition, who, being so many artes and occupations as there are, haue betaken them selues to the basest: namely suche, whom not their owne wyl, but the force of another, and their owne chaunce and seruice hath drawen foorth. And contrarywyse, as of the other sort the number is smaller, so is there vertue more plētiful, & theyr trustinesse more approued. For it is one thyng to serue willingly, another thing to be cōstrained. These therfore being mindful of their calling, to y^e

intent they may beare them selues indifferently in al estates, nei∣ther lose their vertue togeather with their lybertie, that whiche they do vnwyllyngly, sometyme they do it faythfully, whiche they are neuer able to do, whom sleepe, their bellie, their throte, and greedie desyre, being euyl guides, haue ledde foorth to seruice, wherein it is no marueyle yf they folowe and obey their leaders, and do that whiche whyle they ensued, they haue taken vpon them the base title of seruitude. But contrariwyse, they that haue had no suche thyng to folowe, ensuing the steppes of nature and fortune, doo many tymes, beyng seruauntes, make resem∣blance as if they were free men. And yf he ment those speeches of suche, perhappes I myght harken vnto Seneca, with vnoffen∣ded eares.

Sorowe.

Many seruauntes possesse my house.

Reason.

Then hast thou muche stryfe, muche contention, and many conflyctes in euery matter. New faultes shalbe euery day obiected and purged, and thou must syt as a iudge betweene them. Of a maister being made a iudge, thou shalt neuer a whit be the more able to expell contention out of thine house, howbeit thou mayest the contenders.

Sorowe.

I am besieged with seruauntes, without whom I cannot lyue, and what shal I then doo?

Reason.

If the matter be so farre proceeded with thee, that thou darest not remayne alone without thine enimies, pro∣uide for thy selfe by the scarcitie and basenesse of them. Abandon the fairer, the brauer, and craftier sorte of them: abandon suche from thy retinne, as delyte them selues in their beautie, wit, or familie. Among fewe, and those dul and rude, thou shalt lyue more safely, not for that they be better, but for that they be not so bolde, whom like as serpentes in wynter, the restrayned plen∣ty of their poyson, and the droupyng of their vile slouthfulnesse, hath ouercome and repressed Finally, this is the conclusion, that y^t which is only or especially to be expected in a seruaunt, is fayth and trustinesse. If in this respecte thou prefer hym any deale, be∣leeue me, thou shalt bye that smal pleasure, whatsoeuer it be, with great encrease and vantage of other vices, for that faithfulnesse is verie rare to be found: but the next kinde of remedie is fewnesse of them, of which I haue spoken, and also their basenesse, which is not muche better then the other, but bryngeth lesse boldnesse.

Of fugityue seruauntes, The .xxx. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

MY seruauntes are gone.

Reason.

Whose presence was greeuous, their departure ought to be acceptable. There is nothyng almost that displeaseth a man, whose contrarie doth not delyte hym.

Sorowe.

My seruan∣tes are gone.

Reason.

O that they would returne, and that thou couldest beholde with thine eyes, that whiche thou hast seene in thy minde, howe many vices hange vpon them, howe many kyndes of wickednesse, of deceites, of lying artes, of mischeefes, of rauines, and theftes? And what shouldest thou do other then abhorre their companie, shut thy doores against them, and hartily reioyce that thy house is so happyly rydde of so heauie burdens?

Sorowe.

My seruauntes are gone away altogeather.

Reason.

And togeather with them al greeuous cares, troublesome hea∣uinesse, and perpetual feare. Thinke with thy selfe how many bellies thou haddest to fyll, howe many backes to clothe, howe many wandryng feete to shoe, howe many limie fingers to wash, and then thou wylt say that thou art deliuered of a great charge.

Sorowe.

My seruauntes are runne away.

Reason.

And with them also hatred agaynst their maister, and contempt, and grudgyng, and complaintes, moreouer cursinges, and secret banninges of thine vndeserued lyfe: whose seruice, who is so am∣bitious, but wyl iudge it rather a gaine, then a losse, to be with∣out.

Sorowe.

My seruauntes are fledde.

Reason.

Who euer complayned of the flyght of his enimies? Iulius Caesar is accompted proude, for that he was sorie to beholde his enimie flye, whom he thought to haue intercepted: and vnto modest conquerers it suffiseth to see their enimies turne the backe vpon them: and also the same Caesar at an other tyme commaunded that his enimies shoulde be spared in the chase when they fledde, contentyng hym selfe onely with their flyght. Doo thou the lyke. And although these thyne enimies haue deserued a more greeuous punishment, let it suffise thee that they be fledde, and by their flyght measure thou thy victorie, and learne that there

is taken from thee the necessitie of proceedyng from farther punishyng them,

Sorowe.

My seruauntes are fled.

Reason.

Can them thankes that they haue done that wyllyngly, and of their owne accorde, whereunto thou oughtest to haue enforced them: the payne of expulsyng cruel beastes is taken from thee, and yet thou complaynest, that they be runne away, who vnlesse they had done so, thou must needes haue fled thy selfe. They are fledde, who either must haue been fled from or been driuen away: nowe thou remaynest a freeman, nowe thou art out of care, and maister of thyne owne house.

Sorowe

My seruauntes are runne away.

Reason.

The maister hath aucthoritie to be iudge ouer his runne away seruauntes: dissemble nowe thy selfe to be a maister, and vse not thine aucthoritie. If they had been good, they woulde not haue runne away, and to loose them, since they are euil, is no losse, but a gayne. It is more safe to auoyde venomous beastes, then to take them.

Sorowe.

My seruan∣tes haue left me alone.

Reason.

Thou art verily alone, and veryly poore, if because thou wouldest not be alone thou hast neede of retinue of seruauntes, as though thou haddest no frende, no not thy selfe. But howe chaunceth it, that thy seruauntes are desyrous to be without thee, and thou canst not be without them? Beware that in this respecte thou be not more misera∣ble then thy seruantes. But if perhappes thy minde be not so muche vpon thy seruauntes, as vpon their price and value, it is not thy fonde desyre, but filthy auarice that ought to be chasticed, whereof we haue alredye entreated sufficiently, whereas we spake of the losse of money.

Of importunate Neyghbours. The .xxxi. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Haue importunate neyghbours.

Reason.

Beware that thou be not more importunate vnto them.

Sorowe.

I suffer troublesome neyghbours.

Reason.

Opinion beareth

a great sway in al matters: magine in thy mynde, that they are tollerable, and they are so.

Sorow.

I haue euyl neyghbours.

Reason.

Many impute their owne faultes vnto their neigh∣bours: Other mens offences are more sharpely surueyed, more exactly discussed, more seuerely iudged: there is no man that is not a frendly and gentle iudge ouer his owne doynges.

Sorowe.

I suffer sharpe and bytter neighboures.

Reason.

In tast perhaps, and not in effect, for vnto those that are proud and disdainefull, sweete thynges seeme bitter.

Sorowe.

I complayne that my neyghboures are harde and proud.

Reason.

Euery man beareth muche with hym selfe, but nothyng with another: hereof spryngeth great errour, and continuall cause of offences. And ma∣ny tymes where the faulte is, there first begynneth the complaint. How knowe we nowe, whether thou seeme harde, and frowarde, and intractable vnto them, of whose hardnesse thou complaynest?

Sorowe.

I suffer hard neyghbours.

Reason.

Thou hast a double remedie: pacience, and flyght. The first I alowe of, for that al hardnes may be mollified by the arte of sufferyng.

So∣rowe.

I cannot suffer so euyl neyghboures.

Reason.

If by this meanes thou take no profite, who shal holde thee? get thee a∣way out of hand, for as they are greuous vnto thee, so wil they not folow thee: cast from thee the burden which thou canst not beare, and that enimie whom by fightyng thou canst not susteyne, seeke by flying to eschewe: what skylleth it by what path thou es∣cape into safetie? There is no way to be iudged harde, whereby a man may trauayle vnto tranquilitie of minde. And yf thou haue often attempted it, and art neuer the neare, know this, that it is thyne owne faulte, and perhappes also parte of anothers. The greater sorte of common contentions, hath on eyther side one accusyng another, among whom although the one be more faul∣tie, yet is neyther of them without blame. For although that man be tearmed a ciuile and sociable creature, yet yf the trueth be diligently examined, there is none lesse so: and this saying of the Satyrike Poet is true, That there is greater agreement among serpentes and wylde beastes, then among men. For Beares, wilde Bores, Tygers, and Lyons, yea, Vipers, and Aspes, and Cro∣codilles, and to be short, al lyuing creatures, are somtyme at rest

and quietnesse in theyr owne kyndes, man only excepted, who is neuer at quiet. For one man alwayes oppresseth and vex∣eth another, and by continual strife and contention procureth a restlesse lyfe vnto hym selfe and his neighbour. For so it hapneth many tymes, that where is moste plentie of neere neighbours, there a man may se greatest distaunce of myndes and goodwyll. Neighbours are seldome without scouldyng and hatred, There is none of you, vnlesse I be muche deceyued, that spiteth at the kynges of Arabia or India. Spite is bleare eyed, she can not see farre of.

Sorowe.

I am beset with noysome neygh∣bours.

Reason.

If thou wilt be throughly discharged of this mischiefe, goe hyde thy selfe vp in the wyldernesse.

Of Enimies. The xxxij. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Haue enimies.

Reason.

See that thou be friende vnto iustice, a greater defence then whiche, there is none. True ver∣tue treadeth vnderfoote, and despiseth the Threates of fortune.

Sorowe.

I haue enmities.

Reason.

Then wylt thou be the more circumspect, and the better knowne. Enmities haue made many famous, who shoulde haue remayned obscure, if they had wanted enimies.

Sorowe.

I am beset round about with enimies.

Reason.

They wyll be a barre, that pleasures which are the inuincible enimies of the mynde, take no vantage of thee. Fortune hath not so much geuen thee enimies, as keepers, one mischiefe is driuen away by another.

Sorow.

I am oppressed with enimies on euerie side.

Reason.

They lykewyse are op∣pressed with their owne affections: and there is among them a reuenger of thine, and that not one only: on thy side stand wrath, feare, hatred, vnquietnesse, and they haue not yet made an end, but take reuenge on the trespasse. Thus many tymes reuenge goeth before the offence, and perhaps there foloweth none at all: they shalbe armed, they shal labour, sweat, be hot, pant, quiuer, and per∣aduenture none of all these shal touch thee. For many often times by theyr extreame hatred, haue hurt them selues, and not others.

Sorowe.

I am at contention with myne enimies.

Reason.

And they also among them selues: and many tymes it is more safe to striue agaynst enimies, then agaynst vices. He that hateth another man, fyrst geueth a wounde to his owne soule, and next many tymes vnto his owne body. For, to much greedinesse to hurt and strike others, hath layde foorth many vnaduised and naked vnto theyr enimies. Thus euermore the first part of al mis∣chiefes turneth vppon the aucthours thereof, and some tyme the last part, when many tymes he remayneth vnhurt, agaynst whom the mischiefe was first prepared.

Sorowe.

Warres ryse agaynst me on euery syde.

Reason.

The people of Rome was neuer more famous and holy, then when they were busied in many and great warres: Their peace was the beginning of their mischiefe, for with it entred flattering lasciuiousnesse, a pestilent enimie vnto vertue.

Sorowe.

I haue great enmitie.

Reason.

Great enmitie many tymes hath been the beginnyng of great friendshyp.

Sorowe.

I haue enimies.

Reason.

Haue also trustinesse and mercifulnesse, as for other matters whatsoeuer shal happen, prouide that thou be theyr superiours in curtesie and ver∣tue: There is also right & iustice to be vsed with a mans enimies, with whom so behaue thy selfe, that thou doubt not but that thou mayest be reconciled into friendshyp with them. And know that this is more holsome counsell then was Biants, who wylleth a man so to loue his friendes, that he remember also that they may become his enimies: whiche saying although it be commen∣ded of others, yet neyther I, nor Tullie doo lyke of it. For in deede it is a very poyson in friendshyp: wherefore in hatred a man ought to think on loue, & not in loue to thinke on hatred: and truely Aristotles counsell in his Rethorickes is farre to be pre∣ferred before Byas aduice: A man shoulde not, as men commonly speake, loue as though he shoulde hate, but rather hate as though be shoulde loue. Whereof Arislotle wrytyng, reproueth Bias hym∣selfe, and also his subtyle and malicious counsell.

Sorowe.

I haue enmities.

Reason.

But haue them agaynst thy wil, & let a louyng hart of peace dwell alwayes in thine armed breast, and so goe to warre that thou mayst seeme to be constrayned ther∣vnto, least haply humanitie geue place vnto hatred, or least thou studie more for reuenge, then for glory or health. Thou knowest

that Hanibal was more hateful to the Romanes then was Pyr∣rhus, when as both of them were enmities, and Pyrrhus first in∣uaded Italy, but not to the entent to destroy it vtterly, as dyd Hannibal, but only to requyre it. We must conquere by all the meanes we can, that in euery action true vertue may appeare, so that it may seeme that nothyng els is sought for by war, then ho∣nest peace.

Of occasion lost to reuenge. The .xxxiij. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Haue lost my wyshed occasion to reuenge.

Reason.

From whom sinne is taken, nothyng is taken, but much is added: for certayne thynges which men haue, to be taken from them, is a gayne, but to withstand them, that they may not be had at al, is a greater vauntage.

Sorowe.

I haue lost the meanes to be reuenged.

Reason.

An happy losse, to loose that whiche may hurt thee.

Sorowe.

I am prohibited of my hoped and wished reuenge.

Reason.

The chiefest point is to haue a minde not to doo euyl, the next to be prohibited.

Sorowe.

I must of necessi∣tie loose occasion of reuengement.

Reason.

If it be a notable kynde of reuenge, not to haue a wyll to reuenge, it is an excellent necessitie, not to be suffered to reuenge. It is the chiefest point willingly to embrace vertue, the next, to be constrayned therunto.

Sorowe.

I am sory that reuenge is taken from me.

Reason.

The tyme wyll come peechaunce shortly when thou mayest re∣ioyce, and that thou wouldest not wyshe that it had hapned other∣wyse: Many when they come by occasion vnto any thing, at length they begyn to haue will vnto it, and to loue it, and theyr liking groweth vpon necessitie, and when it beginneth to be a wyl, it surceasseth to be a necessitie.

Sorowe.

I thought I could haue ben reuenged, but I could not.

Reason.

Not to be able to doo e∣uil, is a great power, & this qualitie is proper vnto the almightie.

Sorowe.

Present reuenge is fallen away from me.

Reason.

Thinke that thou hast let fal a snake out of thy hand, & take heede that he creepe not into thine hand agayne. There is nothyng so coutrary vnto a man, as vngentlenesse. By this he surceas∣seth to be a man, whiche to be so, the name it selfe declareth:

there is no sicknesse so contrary, no not death it selfe: For death hapneth by the course of nature, but this, far contrariwise: To shew crueltie vnto a man, is contrary vnto the nature of a man, al∣though it were deserued: a man ought not to folowe the motion of a wounded mynd, and by the remembrance of a priuate griefe, to forgeat the instinct of the common nature.

Sorow.

I shall be sory for euer, that I was restrayned from reuenge.

Reason.

Perhaps thou shalt reioyce for euer: How often, thinkest thou, after enmitie layd a part, and friendshyp concluded, haue some ab∣horred theyr friendes in the middest of theyr embrasinges, thus thinking with them selues: this man I wished at the Deuyl, and I lacked but litle of bryngyng my wicked desire to effect? O hap∣pie chaunce, to howe good a part hast thou conuerted my cruell meanyng?

Sorowe.

I cannot be suffered to wreake my iust wrath.

Reason.

A man shall scarce fynde iust anger: forasmuche as it is written, Mans anger woorketh not the righte∣ousnesse of God: and agayne, it is said by an other, Anger is a short madnesse: It is best therefore not to be angrie at all: and next, not to reuenge, but to bridle anger, that it cary not away the mynde whyther as it is not seemely: the thirde is, not to be able to re∣uenge, if thou wouldest.

Sorow.

I haue lost notable occasion to be reuenged.

Reason.

Pardon, which is more notable is left vnto thee, and also forgetfulnesse, which is most notable of all. The same made Iulius Caefar renowmed among all Princes. Great & innumerable were this worthie Emperours conquests, his triumphes most glorious, his excellencie in chiualrie incom∣parable, his wyt most excellent, his eloquence notable, the nobili∣tie of his progenie, the beautie of his personage, the valure of his inuincible mynde, surpassing: but when thou hast heaped togea∣ther all his commendations, thou shalt finde nothyng in hym more excellent then his mercifulnesse, and forgetfulnesse of offen∣ces: which although it procured vnto hym the cause of his death, so that the saying of Pacunius was iustly song at his buriall, It was my fortune to saue some, that there might some lyue to destroy me: neuerthelesse since that he must of necessitie die, in suche a cause death was in a maner to be wyshed.

Of the peoples hatred. The .xxxiiij. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

THe people hate me.

Reason.

Then hast thou the ende of the multitudes fauour, whereof I forewarned thee, to wit, hatred for loue.

Sorowe.

The people hate me without a cause.

Reason.

Thou woondrest that they hate thee without a cause, who before loued thee without discreti∣on, whereof this foloweth, that whereas modestie is banished, there soueraignitie must needes raigne.

Sorow.

The peo∣ple hate me.

Reason.

This beast is prompt to iniurie, and flowe to duetie: the commons loue is lyght, and theyr hatred hea∣uie.

Sorowe.

The people is angrie with me.

Reason.

If they loue thee, they wyl applaude thee, but yf they be angry, they wyl seeke thy destructiō, wherin are two vnequal thyngs, danger and hope.

Sorowe.

I am odious vnto the people.

Reason.

There is nothyng more forcible then the multitude of fooles, whereas publique fury pricketh foorth the rage of euery priuate person, and the rage of euery priuate person kindleth the publique franticknesse, and one of them enforceth another. And there is no∣thyng more dangerous then to fall into theyr handes, whose wyll standeth for iustice, & headlong outrage for discretion.

Sorowe.

The people hate me.

Reason.

I woulde they had not loued thee, no not knowen thee. The loue of euyll persons endeth with hatred: Both whiche are vncertayne, and only ignorance safe.

Sorowe.

I am hated of the people.

Reason.

A malitious people ought eyther to be appeased, or forsaken.

Of enuie, passiuely. The .xxxv. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

MAny doo enuie me.

Reason.

It is better to be enuied, then pitied.

Sorow.

I am troubled with y^e enuie of my ilwillers.

Reason.

And who euer was friend vnto ver∣tue, that wanted that kinde of exercise? Run ouer in thy thought al lands, al ages, peruse al histories, and thou shalt scarce finde a man of any excellencie free from this pestilence. I meane not now to enter any discourse, the which may leade vs far away

from our purpose, but if thou remember any thing that euer thou hast read, thou canst not be ignorant of many by whose felowshyp thou mayest not only conceiue comfort, but also vaunt thy selfe.

Sorowe.

I am spyted at.

Reason.

Forsake honours and publique functions, leaue of the occasion to be spoken of among the people for thy stately pace, and proude retinue: Sequester thy selfe as muche as thou canst from the eyes of many that are enuious, neyther geue occasion vnto them to point at thee with the finger, eyther for thy looke, woorde, or gesture. The common people and malice dwell togeather in the streetes, and so for the most part dooth all wickednesse: Certayne enimies are by no meanes better escaped, then by flight, & seeking corners.

Sorowe.

Malice foloweth after me, although I flie and hide my selfe.

Reason.

Take away the cause of euyl, and thou shalt take away al euyll it selfe. Be measurable in thy ryches, and whatsoe∣uer thou hast, that by the excellent beautie and shewe thereof may enflame the minds of men and set their teeth one edge, either cast it of, or keepe it out of sight. If thou haue any thyng whiche thou wylt not or canst not want, vse it modestly: that enuie whiche pryde hath prouoked, humilitie wyll aswage. There are also cer∣tayne effectuall remedies whiche doo soone extinguish it, but they are woorse then the disease it selfe, to wit, misery, and an infamous lyfe: Concernyng one of whiche I haue sayde alredy, that miserie only is without enuie. And vnto the other appertayneth y^e saying of Socrates: For when on a tyme Alcibiades demaunded by what meanes he might escape enuie, Socrates answered, Lyue sayde he, as dyd Thersites, whose lyfe yf thou knowe not, thou maist reade it in the Iliades of Homer. Truely a scoffyng and perfect Socratical answere: for there is no wysedome to forsake vertue to eschew enuie, and better it were to be Achilles with enuie, then Thersites without it: although it be also wel knowne, that cer∣tayne excellent men, to the intent to lyue at quiet, haue for a tyme dissembled both theyr vertue, & wisedome.

Sorowe.

Many doo enuie me.

Reason.

Thou canst scarce escape enuy but by cowardice or miserie, & if thou escape it by any of these meanes, thou shalt fall into contempt, both whiche to be free from, were a very harde matter.

Sorowe.

I am ouerborne with the hatred

of many.

Reason.

There is, as some say, another meanes and way to treade enuie vnderfoote, to wyt, by excellent glory, but this path is but litle tracted, so that many that begynne to walke forwarde therein, doo slyppe into that whiche they woulde es∣chewe.

Of Contempt. The .xxxvj. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

BVt I am contemned.

Reason.

If it be iustly, thou hast cause, I confesse, to be sory, notwithstanding thou must suffer it: but other wyse, thou mayest laugh at it. For there is nothyng more ridiculus, nor that hapneth more commonly, then for a wyse man to be contemned of mad men.

Sorowe.

I am contemned.

Reason.

Touchyng this one woorde, some haue sayde that foure good thynges are sig∣nified thereby: to contemne the worlde, to contemne no man, for a man to contemne hym selfe, and that he is contemned of o∣ther: of this last thou hast neede.

Sorow.

I am con∣temned of many.

Reason.

If it be of thy elders, suffer it: yf of thyne equalles, beare with it: The fyrst doo vse theyr aucthoritie, for, for the most part lesse thynges are contemned of the greater: The other expose them selues to be contemned, & seeing by none other meanes they can become thy superiours, they thynke to wyn it by this meanes. As for thyne inferiours let them alone, let them rage, and regard not theyr contempt, whi∣che shall redowne vnto theyr infamie, and thy glory. Thersites contemned Achilles of whom we spake before, and so dyd Zoi∣lus Homer, and Antonius Augustus, and Euangelus Virgil, and Caluus Cicero. And, as we haue learned in the Gospel, that whiche is greatest of all, Herode, beyng a most vyle and miserable man of all other, contemned Christe our Sauiour. But what dyd this contempt eyther hurt the contemned, or auayle the contemners?

Sorow.

I am contemned and scorned.

Reason.

I knowe not what these laughyng games are, or what conceyte is in the myndes of common iesters, and so muche the more, for that the cunnynger haue neede of the lesse

cunnyng, and the one of them scorneth at another.

Sorowe.

I am contemned of others.

Reason.

Examine thy selfe, whether thou doo or hast contemned other: This is the ma∣ner of you men, to contemne and be contemned, and one to prosecute another with mutuall hatred and contempte, and yet you woulde be reuerenced of other, and your selues reuerence no body: you goe about to please GOD, whose woorkes doo none of them please you, as they ought to please: con∣cernyng whiche thyng, our countreyman Cicero hath spoken ryght nobly, yf any thyng may be spoken nobly in the name of the Goddes, It canne not stande with reason, sayth he, foras∣muche as one of vs contemneth and despiseth another, that we shoulde requyre of the Goddes that they woulde loue vs, and be friendly vnto vs. But muche more excellent is the saying of the Prophete Malachie, Haue we not all one father? hath not one GOD created vs? Why then dooth euery one of you despise his brother?

Sorow.

It greeueth me that I am contemned.

Reason.

Although no man woulde be despised, and many woulde fayne be feared, yet is it muche more safe to be despised, then feared. And therefore that whiche Anneus Seneca sayth in a certayne Epistle, It is as yl to be contemned, as suspec∣ted. I doo not alowe. But I suppose rather that he sayde better in an other place. That it is more daungerous to be feared, then contemned. And therefore learne by the auncient saying of the wyse, that these three thyngs are to be auoyded, of which we haue entreated in so many continuall discourses, which although they be all euyll, yet out of all doubt this last is the least, although the vylest of them, and yet euery one hath his peculiar re∣medie. Hatred is appeased by curtesie, enuie by modestie, contempt by the friendshyppe of great personagies, and also by honest practises and vertue. There was none more contem∣tible at Rome then was Brutus at the begynnyng, but after∣warde no man more hyghly esteemed of. Atchiue then also some good and great enterprise, by meanes whereof thou mayest not be contemned.

Of long expectyng a promised rewarde. The .xxxvii. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

THe promises made vnto me, be late in perfourmance.

Reason.

Why doest thou complayne of this alone, whiche is common with all men? Nothyng more deba∣seth a gyfte, then an harde graunt, and a slowe perfour∣maunce. But this is your manner, you woulde receyue quickely, and geue at leasure, vnto the one you be nimble, vnto the other vnwyllyng, hastie vnto the one, and to the other heauie. Here is a double roote of ingratitude, and a double cause of complayntes, while some are greeued with tarience, and other with to much speede.

Sorowe.

There be many thinges promised me, but nothing performed.

Reason.

Great promisers ought to be smally trusted. Mens vanitie is knowne, their flatterie knowne, their lying knowne. Hath one man promised thee many thinges? it is sufficient that he hath promised thee, goe seeke another to perfourme them, one man cannot do al thynges: this promiser hath prouided that in the meane whyle thou shouldest loue hym.

Sorowe.

That is not perfourmed whiche was promised me.

Reason.

Of two sortes of couetousnesse, more mightie is that whiche holdeth fast, then that whiche craueth.

Sorowe.

O, how many promises dyd suche a man make vnto me?

Reason.

Eyther he mocked thee, or he was desyrous to be beloued for a tyme, as I sayde erewhyle: and perhappes whyle he promi∣sed thee many thynges, he required some one thyng of thee, whiche he thought to be well gotten for the price of a great lie: for this vnderstand, that they whiche are ryche in woordes, are many tymes poore in deedes.

Sorowe.

O howe ma∣ny thynges are promised me?

Reason.

If thou wilt cre∣dite me, suche as promise many thynges thou shalt not cre∣dite.

Of Repulses. The xxxviii. Dialogu. e

SOROWE.

I Take it greeuously that I haue suffered a repulse.

Reason.

Wouldest thou then obteyne whatsoeuer thou desyrest, so that nothyng shoulde be denyed thee? take heede that this desyre of thine proceede not of intollerable pryde. It behoued thee to haue thought on Pompeius the great, a worthier then whom I knowe not yf euer there were any, of whom notwithstandyng it is written, that he would haue those thinges geuen him, which also myght be denyed hym. How many thinges do we know to haue been denyed to Emperours, being most valiaunt and of high renowme? and doest thou take a repulse or twayne so heauily? To be short, howe many thinges dooth God require dayly at mans hande, yet lacketh God nothyng, neyther doth he entreate vs for any thing.

Sorow.

I cannot quietly take a repulse.

Reason.

Why doest thou arrogate to thy selfe the libertie of askyng, and takest from other aucthoritie of deniyng? Is it because, as often tymes it chaunseth, that an vnreasonable request, geueth occasion of a reasonable deniall? Or is it because the repulse oftentymes was profitable to hym that craued, to whom otherwyse it woulde haue been hurtful if he had obteyned?

Sorowe.

I suffer a re∣pulse wrongfully.

Reason.

Yf thy repulse be wrongfull, thy request was right and iuste, reioyce then that the fault is an other mans, rather then thine.

Sorowe.

I haue a repulse where I deserued it not.

Reason.

There are many that thinke they haue deserued much, when in very deede they haue deserued nothyng: From hence commeth the greefe of a repulse, from hence proceed al complaynts, wherewith al the world and the whole lyfe of man is filled.

Sorowe.

I suffer a shameful repulse.

Reason.

There is nothing shameful but a fault: For what shame could that bring vnto thee, that was not in thy power to perfourme?

Sorowe.

I haue a repulse where I thought to haue had none.

Reason.

Thought is vncertayne, but thinges are certayne, and to be vn∣able to denye that whiche is asked, belongeth not to a free man, but to a bond slaue: and to be vnhable to abide a repulse, is not the part of a citizen, but of a Tirant.

Sorowe.

I haue a repulse

of that thyng whiche I desyred and hoped for.

Reason.

Yf men shoulde obteyne whatsoeuer they hope for or desyre, they shoulde be al goddes: but thou, to the ende thou mayest auoyde al displeasures and greefes taken by repulses, learne to desyre possible and honest thynges, and not to haue a mynde to obteyne whatsoeuer thy vnsaciable or foolyshe desyre lusteth for, or vayne hope shal put in thy mynde.

Sorowe.

I was not onely repul∣sed, but an vnwoorthier was preferred before me.

Reason.

How often do we see the vnwoorthie to be preferred before the woor∣thie, and oftentymes the vnworthie to be iudged of as vnworthy as them selues, beyng seuere iudges in other mens matters, but in their owne case very fauorable? There are many that wyll say they are vnwoorthy, but there are fewe whiche thinke so in deede.

Sorowe.

I haue a repulse of a smal thyng.

Reason.

We do often tymes see small thinges denyed, and great thynges willingly offered. If the gyftes of fortune shalbe recompensed with repulses, the ballance wyl hang euen, but you encrease those by indignation, and diminishe the other by forgetfulnesse and dis∣simulation.

Sorowe

I was woorthy, as I suppose, not to be repulsed.

Reason.

I graunt it be so, but doost thou thinke that al thinges are graunted or denied, accordyng to the woorthinesse of men? I woulde it were so, that the hope of rewarde myght make many moo good men, and the feare of punishment make the fewer euyl. But the case standeth not so, for loue, hatred, hope, de∣sire, & secret affection, haue mingled togeather & disordred al thin∣ges. Wouldest thou haue fortune to chaunge her common condi∣tion to wardes thee only, and not thou thy selfe to bende to wardes the common course of mans nature?

Sorowe.

Howe farre vn∣woorthier then I am, is my cosuter preferred?

Reason.

And Lucius Flaminius, who for a notable crime had deserued present iudgement to be deposed from the order and dignitie of a Se∣natour, was preferred before Scipio Nasica, a man accounted to be most worthye, aswel by the iudgement of the Senate, as also by the whole voyce of the common people? Howe was Va∣sinius preferred before Cato, an obscure man, before a most com∣mendable senatour, and that not onely by the verdit of the peo∣ple, his frendes, and his enimies also, but also in the whole

volume that Cicero wrote: what sayst thou in this case, euen that they are greeuous, & not new thynges that thou sufferest.

Sorow.

I hoped for muche, I deserue not a litle.

Reason.

I tolde thee euen nowe, that thou shouldest deserue muche, and yet al thynges are not geuen through desertes. Do we not see, that to whom a thyng is once denyed, yet the same perhappes is graunted within a whyle after to the selfe same man? which thyng happened to the same Scipio of whom I speake: For constant vertue manye tymes breaketh the force of repulses. To this beare wytnesse Emilius Paulus, Metellus Ma∣cedonicus, Lucius Numius, who tooke al of them a repulse for the Consulshyp, and the selfe same men afterwarde were adorned with most noble dignitie, and triumphes: and of whom before they were had in contempte, to the same citi∣zens afterwarde they were a spectable: and surely they had neuer atteyned vnto those honours, yf they had endeuoured to lament with greefe the repulses of the people, rather then to ouercome the same with valiauntnesse of vertue. Although Lucius Sylla, who in the ende being styrred vp to eiuil dis∣sention, stayned his name with open crueltie, but neuerthelesse was a most noble and renowmed Citizen, had taken the repulse, not onely of the Consulshyp, but also of the Pretorshyp, afterwarde he atteyned to the hyghest dignitie in the com∣mon wealth, insomuche that he coulde not onely hym selfe procure the Pretorshyps, Consulshyps, and Empires, but also bestowe them on other. A repulse ought not to take away hope, but to geue it, to styrre vp careful diligence and ver∣tue, whiche be it neuer so sharpe a thyng, yet it aswageth it, and yf it happen that it doth not so, yet it is not therefore to be forsaken, least it shoulde seeme that it is embraced onely for it owne sake, and it owne ende. To be shorte, these men haue valiauntly susteyned their repulses, but Pub. Rutilius, hearyng of his brothers repulse whiche he had susteyned in suing for the Consulshyp, soddenly fel downe dead. Choose thee now, whether of these thou haddest rather folowe.

Of an vniust Lorde. The .xxxix. Dialogue.

SOROW.

THe common wealth suffereth an vniuste lorde.

Reason.

Perhappes it hath deserued it, and that kynde of mys∣cheefe is a due punishment for the other: and we see seuere iudges exercise iustice, as wel in hel, as els where, and although it standeth for a reason, yet sometymes it maketh hast: & that is ve∣rified whiche is wrytten, There is a God that iudgeth men on earth. There be some of opinion, that deuyls are made of men, thorow their dayly licentious offendyng, and libertie in sinnyng: whiche thyng is tollerablye spoken, for that the likelihood of wicked dispositions doth cause it, wherein a wicked man, and suche a one as continually perseuereth in wickednesse, is almost equall with the deuyl. To whiche opinion, if it be alowed, this saying wyl wel agree. That thorowe gods iustice, one deuyl oppresseth an other. In whiche case of al other this is most miserable, that it hap∣peneth often tymes, that the giltlesse are punished among the wicked. And that saying of Flaccus falleth out many tymes to true, and to often, That many tymes the opportunitie that is necglectd in punishyng the adulterer, doth bryng the innocent into daunger: whiche thyng without doubt, although vnknowen to vs, yet is it done not without the secret iustice of God.

Sorowe.

We suffer a cruel Lord.

Reason.

Crueltie truely is an euill thing, and quite agaynst the nature of man, but it is profitable a∣gaynst vice, and vnto the vnbrideled people abrydel, and feare proceedyng from al sides: and it is more expedient for them to feare, that knowe not howe to loue, howe soeuer the case stand. There is no lorde so cruel, but that pleasure, the companion and daughter of prosperitie, is more cruel then he. Nothyng can be worse for euyl doers, then carelesnesse and libertie. He that fea∣reth nothyng, is nighest to destruction.

Sorowe.

The vnfortunate people suffereth an vniust lorde.

Reason.

Beleeue me, there is no man amongst al the common people, more miserable then a Tyrant: Whiche thing yf thou doubt of, beholde Dionisius. he being a wycked man, yet not vnlearned, what opinion he had of

hym selfe and of his owne tyrannye, the hanging vp of the sworde, with the poynte thereof ouer his frendes head, doth openly declare. The hystorie is commonly knowen. The peo∣ple standeth in feare of the Tiraunt, and the Tiraunt of the peo∣ple, and in such sorte one standeth in feare of the other, to their great greefe. In this poynt it differeth, that the miserie of the people dooth appeare, but of the Tiraunt lyeth closely hydden. Notwithstandyng the wounde that is couered with a purple roabe, pincheth euen as sore. Neyther do fet••ers of golde greeue a man any lesse, then fetters of Iron. And as his misery may consiste in filthynesse, and smokynesse, so euen in brauery and banketryng it is included. The garment of a Tiraunt, on the outside is golde, but yf thou turne it, thou shalt fynde al the in∣ner side ful of sharpe prickelles. So thou mayest perceiue that Ti∣rants do not altogeather in theyr raging scape scotte free, or that the oppression of the people is vnreuenged.

Sorow.

We haue a very vnmerciful lorde.

Reason.

Lordes would not be so plen∣tiful, neyther rule & rage so wyde abrode, vnlesse the people were madde, and that euery citizen did not regarde their priuate, more then the common wealth, pleasure more then glory, money more then libertie, lyfe more then vertue.

Sorowe.

Our seruile con∣trey suffereth one lord.

Reason.

Not one lorde, but thirtie lordes at once, did that noble mother of lawes, Athens, suffer, which was the seconde light of al Greece.

Sorowe.

Our countrey hath one lorde.

Reason.

Yea, but Roome had many: For who hath not hearde of the Caligulas, the Neroes, and Domitians, the Com∣modoes, Heliogabales, Bascianes, and Calienes? and that I may not recken vp al the shames of the Emvire, the Maximini, and the haters of al godlinesse, the Iulian••, and Deci••. Assiria suffered Sardanapalus, Persis Syrus, Greece Menander, and Asia suffered some that were called kynges, who were in deede very cruel tyrauntes, and vnmerciful Dionisians. Sicilia suffered Phalaris, Lacedemon abode Cleomenis, Agathocles and Na∣nides, whom also the Argi did suffer, and therewith also the wo∣manyshe couetousnesse of his wyfe, who surpassyng her husbande inscrapyng togeather, shewed great tyrannye in her kinde, after a strange sorte. But whyther do I proceede? who is able to recken

vp eyther the newe, or the olde Tyrauntes? who in these dayes are so many in number, and haue taken so deepe roote, that what with their ryches and power of the people of the one syde, and their maners and mad bedlemnes on the other syde, they can ney∣ther be numbred nor rooted out. Neyther neede you to thinke that seruitude is turned into nature any lesse with you, then it was with the Egiptians & Medes, who had al their liberty suppressed and quite buried: insomuch that the greater part of the people, yf they haue not a Tiraunt, they wyl sue earnestly to haue one, or els seeke to bye one: so that it seemeth your fathers were ashamed to be suche ones as they were borne to be. For you al, for the most parte, being borne and brought vp in seruitude, as you haue cause to complayne of the olde greefe, so haue you no cause to find fault with any newe.

Sorowe.

We are oppressed with the heauie yoke of a mightie lorde.

Reason.

The fable of Aristophanes the Poet is very profitable, which warneth vs not to nouryshe vp a Lion within cities, but if he be once nourished vp, that then we ought to obey him: for the mischeefe which commeth of Tiranny by nature, is not to be augmented by impacience, neyther that power, which thou thy selfe hast let vp, by thee to be violated: For seldome hath it been seene, that a Tirant hath risen vp among the people, without the fault of the citizens. For it is an olde saying, Eate that which thou hast nourished.

Sorowe.

We suffer an im∣portunate lord.

Reason.

If al power come from God, whether it be for the exercise of the good, or punishment of the wicked, it is meete that thou shouldest thinke thy selfe subiecte to the power of God, & not of man: whose minister if he seeme to be seuere, it may come to passe that thorow pacience he may wax gentle. For there is scarse any mynde so cruel, but that thorow obedience & seruicea∣blenesse it wil be calmed. To be short, whatsoeuer it be that oppres∣seth, it ought to be eyther suffered, or quite laide out of mind: For there is no meane beside impatience, which, as I said, doth not di∣minishe greefes, but encrease them.

Sorowe.

We haue an euyl lord.

Reason.

You al haue one enimie whom ye know wel, & he being but one, hath many which he knoweth not, & therfore is in more daungerous state.

Sorowe.

We haue a very euyl lorde.

Reason.

But he wyl not continue long, yf the philosophers iudged aright, who sayde, That no violent thing can continue long.

And truely, yf thy countrye haue but one good citizen, it shall not very long haue an euyl lorde.

Of an vnlearned Scholemaister. The .xl. Dialogue.

SOROW.

I Haue an vnlearned Scholemaister.

Reason.

Although the vnlearned cannot make a man learned, and that the common saying be true, That it is in a skilful man, to be able to teach: Yet a man may become learned vnder an vnlearned teacher, eyther by his owne meanes, or els, whiche seemeth more true, through celestical influence and inspiration. And that I may vse the woordes of Cicero, by diuine instinte, without the whiche we ought not to beleeue that any can be eyther learned or good▪ And this poynt is not onely grounded vpon true religion, but also is agreable vnto the aucthorities of gentyle philosophy.

Sorowe.

I heare an vnlearned Scholemaister, agaynst my wyl.

Reason.

But heare the heauenly Scholemaister wyllingly, who hath ge∣uen thee eares, not these onely whiche we see, but inuisible ones within the mynde. Here hym, who teacheth man wysedome, as it is wrytten. Who moreouer, yf he holde his peace, what euer mortal Scholemaister he be, be he neuer so well learned, he lo∣seth his labour.

Sorowe.

I suffer impaciently an vnlearned Scholemaister.

Reason.

Eyther flye from hym, and seeke an other, or els returne to thy selfe. And remember though Cice∣ro do many tymes scorne at Epicurus, Senica notwithstandyng counteth hym a notable felowe, who had not only not an vnlear∣ned Scholemaister, but none at al, as he him selfe boastingly doth often repeate. Remember also what Saynt Augustine wryteth of hym selfe, whom it were a sinne not to beleeue in al matters, who as the same aucthour wryteth, vnderstoode Aristotles predicamentes, whiche are accompted amongest the most har∣dest thinges: and also the liberal sciences, any one wherof to learne perfectly of a Scholemaister is compted a harde matter. These I say did he vnderstand, and no man taught hym. And last of al thinke vpon Saint Bernarde, a most excellent man for lear∣nyng

and holynesse, who got al his knowledge, wherin he ex∣celled all other of his tyme, in the wooddes and fieldes, not by the instruction of man, but by contemplation and prayer: neyther had he euer any other Scholemaisters (as he witnesseth of hym self) then Okes and Beeches. Yf these thynges haue been doone: Why may they not be doone agayne? whiche vnlesse it had been so, what shoulde the first men haue doone, who neyther had any Scholemaister, neyther coulde fynde any? Therefore by woon∣deryng, by thynkyng, by lyfting vp of the minde, and sharpening the wyt, dyd they fynde out those thyngs which you with all your Scholemaisters doo scarcely vnderstande. Doo thou also some great matter, and distrust not to intermeddle thy selfe with great exploytes: And yf thou want a mortall, thou shalt haue an hea∣uenly scholemaister, on whom all other Scholemaisters doo de∣pende: He it is that hath made al things, both wyttes, and scien∣ces, and maisters.

Of an vnapt and proude Scholar. The .xlj. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Haue an vnapt Schollar.

Reason.

Thou loosest thy la∣bour, thou plowest the sea sande, thou castest away thy seede, nature is not altered.

Sorowe.

Fortune hath brought me a dull schollar.

Reason.

Thou tillest a barren soyle, vnyoke thyne Oxen, why doost thou weery thy selfe? Spare hym and thy selfe, and since there are so many labours necessarie, and whiche cannot be auoyded, to seeke after needlesse trauayles it is a folly.

Sorowe.

I haue a schollar vnapt to learnyng.

Reason.

If he be apt to learne vertue, holde hym to that, and so hast thou taught hym the best artes: But yf he be capable of neyther, let hym alone, and poure no licour into a leakyng Caske, which wyll not remayne therein, and so consume thy selfe with perpetu∣all weerinesse: and thus perswade thy selfe, that all that are, or that haue been, or euer shalbe excellent in vertue or learnyng, are not able to stirre vp one wit, vnlesse there be some sparkes with∣in the mynde, whiche beyng kyndled and holpen by the Schole∣maisters

industry, doo conceyue the commendable nooryshment of discipline: for otherwyse thou shalt but puffe and blow the as∣shes in vayne.

Sorowe.

I haue an vnruly and proude schol∣lar.

Reason.

Pryde is an enimie vnto wyt, and whylest an insolent schollar disdayneth to be holden vnder, and careth not to be taught, he wyll hardly yeelde his hande to the Ferula, his mynde to instruction, his eare to reprehension, and his necke to the yoke.

Sorowe.

I haue a schollar puffed vp with prosperitie.

Reason.

As swellyng of the eyes hurteth the eye sight, so swel∣lyng of the mynde troubleth the wytte, that there can be no en∣traunce vnto learnyng: all pryde ought to be repressed. Thou knowest howe Alexander King of Macedonie, when on a time he applyed his mynd to the studie of the Mathematques, & there were layde before hym certayne obscure Geometrical rules: be∣yng offended with the difficultie of them, he commaunded his scholemaister to teache hym the same more playnely. But what answeared he? These thynges, sayde he, are a lyke difficult vnto al men: whiche he spake to this ende, to beate from him all hope of his Princes prerogatyue. And truely it is so in deede, for as concernyng the disposition of mans wit, fortune hath no∣thyng to deale therin, and who so desireth to be learned and wyse, let him quite forgeat that he is of power and aucthoritie.

Sorow.

I haue an ignorant, and a hygh mynded schollar.

Reason.

Thou saylest agaynst the wynde and the tyde, hale in the sayles and goe to shore.

Sorowe.

I haue an obstinate and a fro∣warde schollar.

Reason.

Thou dooest not only dygge the sande, but also nooryshest vp a Serpent, and tyllest a venemous plante, yea, and teachest an enimie.

Sorowe.

I teach a slyffe∣necked schollar.

Reason.

Thou syngest in a deaffe mans eare, but so the worlde goeth, and some are delyghted in great noyses, and some in quiet silence: The greatest sway in all dooynges dooth custome alwayes beare? Marke howe styll the Fysher is, and howe loude the Hunter, and the Schole∣maister louder then he, yea then the Raunger of a Foreste.

Sorowe.

I haue gotten an harde harted schollar.

Reason.

Thou mayest oftentymes reclayme the head of a Beare, sooner then of a Man. What wouldest thou more? It is set downe

in a fable how that the Wooolfe & the Foxe went to schole togea∣ther, and y^e Elephants haue ben learned: it is no old wyues tale, but a natural historie. And so it may chaunce that this thy schol∣ler by studie may alter & mollyfie nature. In my iudgment the lyfe of a shepheard and of a scholemaister seemeth almost all one, & it is marueyle but that both of them will be manered according to their liuing: The one of them guideth beasts, y^e other boyes.

Of a Stepdame. The .xlij. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Haue a Stepdame.

Reason.

Then thou hast a father al∣so. Thus goeth the course of mans lyfe, that meery thyngs are myxt with sorowfull, sowre with sweete: and I wyshe that sweete and sowre, beyng thus equally mixt togeather, dwelled not here amongst vs.

Sorowe.

I haue an vniust stepdame.

Reason.

Thou vsest Virgils terme very aptly: but how much the more vniuste she is to thee, so muche the more labour thou to be iuster then she.

Sorowe.

I haue a very proude stepdame.

Reason.

It is the propertie of a woman to be proude, and there∣fore of a stepdame: yf two causes doo engender one effect, there is no cause why thou shoulde & be amazed, but that thou shouldest suffer, and therein thou shalt shewe thyne owne selfe both a good naturall sonne, and also a good sonne in lawe.

Sorowe.

I haue a very proude stepdame.

Reason.

Pryde is ouercome by no meanes better then by lowlynesse.

Sorow.

I cannot abyde my stepdame.

Reason.

But thou must suffer thy father: Yf thou loue hym wel, thou shalt the better abide her.

Sorowe.

I haue a wicked, & an importunate stepdame.

Reason.

Be thou duetiful & pacient towardes her: thou owest loue vnto thy father, pacience towards a woman, reuerence to thy stepdame.

Sorow.

I haue a malapert stepdame.

Reason.

Do not commit, that her malapertnes be greater thē thy duetifulnes: There is nothing hard, nothing difficult vnto duetifulnesse, the same aduanceth men vnto God, & plucketh downe god vnto men. As often as thy step∣dame shalbe in her outrage, thynke not on her, but on thy father.

Sorow.

I haue an iniurious stepdame.

Reason.

Womens iniu∣ries are better requited with cōtempt, then with reuenge.

Sorow.

I suffer a greeuous stepdame.

Reason.

Thou sayest well, I suffer: For to faynt, and not to be able to suffer a foolyshe simple woman, is not the part of a man.

Sorow.

My stepdame hateth me.

Reason.

Loue thou her, and it is Gods commaun∣dement, that we shoulde loue our enimes: but to loue, that thou shouldest be loued agayne, is the counsayle of the Heathen Philo∣sophers.

Sorowe.

My stepdame hateth me.

Reason.

It may suffise thee if she loue thy father, and it is not the duetie of a sonne to hate her that loueth his father: but if she hate hym, whom dooth she not hate? For and yf she loue another man more then her husbande, see that thou be not he.

Sorowe.

My step∣dame hateth me ouer muche.

Reason.

Perhaps the hate of thy stepdame is lesse hurtfull then her exceeding loue: Dooest thou know the Historie of Phaedra and Hippolitus? Truely that hatred whiche thou oughtest not to reuenge, ought eyther to be paci∣fied, or auoyded, or suffered, for there is none other meanes. Com∣plaintes oftentymes doo encrease hatred.

Of the hardnesse of a Father. The .xliij. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Suffer an harde father.

Reason.

The hardnesse of a fa∣ther, is many tymes profitable for the sonne: cocklyng is al∣wayes to be condemned▪ and the tongue is not only to be v∣sed, but also there must be no spare of the rod, as the learned haue geuen counsayle: And by these twaine, is al the direction of young wits ordered, which yf they be vsed in vayne, then to grea∣ter griefes we must geue stronger medicines, as banishment, and imprisonment, yea and moreouer, according to the order of the olde Romanes. extreame punishment, and death, which not only Consuls & Captaines, vnto whom publique aucthoritie gaue iu∣risdiction ouer al men, but also those priuate auntient & seuere fa∣thers, vnto whō only theyr countrey gaue them power ouer their children, haue most extreamely executed, as we reade in histories, among whom the seueritie of Cassius & Fuluius is most special∣ly renowmed. Goe thou thy wayes now, and cal thy father, that is to gentle, an harde father.

Sorow.

I suffer an harde father.

Reason.

What maner of sonne thinkest thou did he suffer of thee

when thou wast a chylde, and lykewyse afterwardes when thou wast a young man? This is an harde thyng to perswade them in, that doo very muche please them selues: But beleeue me, there is nothing more payneful then to suffer the vnruly manners of that age.

Sorowe.

I suffer an harde father.

Reason.

What if thou be an harde sonne? Harde thynges by harde thyngs are more effectuously mollified, and often times the scarre of a gentle Surgion is more euyll fauoured.

Sorowe.

I haue an harde father.

Reason.

If he be a true father in deede he loueth thee, and yf he loue thee, he thynketh vpon the thynges that may profite thee, and not flatter thee.

Sorowe.

I haue an extreame harde father.

Reason.

Those thynges that seeme very harde vnto thee, perhappes seeme profitable vnto hym, whose iudgement is more certayne, and affection more in∣corrupt. Youth measureth nothyng but that whiche lyeth before theyr eyes, ryper age foreseeth many thynges.

Sorowe.

I haue a very harde father.

Reason.

See that thou be not harde vnto hym, so that whylest he resisteth thy shame, thou dis∣quiet his lyfe with thyne vnthrifcie demeanure.

Sorowe.

My father is very hard.

Reason.

He that neclecteth the good estate of his sonne, the same is to be counted an harde father, al∣though in shewe he appeare very gentle: but he that by aduice and counsayle draweth his sonne the ryght way, prouokyng hym forwarde also, some tymes by word, and some tymes by deede, or els when he seeth him backwarde blameth hym, or vnwillyng compelleth him, and although in outwarde shew he seemeth some∣what sharpe, yet is he not a hard father. The seueritie of a father is commonly more profitable for the sonne then his gentlenesse.

Sorowe.

My father is hard.

Reason.

Zeale, sorowe, feare, and age, do excuse a fathers frowning.

Sorowe.

I do paynfully a∣byde an hard father.

Reason.

What yf that happen vnto thee which hath worthily hapned vnto many of thy mynde, to wit, that thou be constrayned to abide the hardnesse of another? What yf it shoulde chaunce thee thy selfe to begin to be the father of a stub∣berne sonne? Then shouldest thou knowe how pleasant a thyng the yoke of a father were, and howe ryght is his aucthoritie: Now vnderstandest thou but only one thyng that delighteth thee,

and in the same one thyng thy iudgement hath no delight of the mynde, but is deceyued with the delyght of the senses.

Sorowe.

I haue an harde father.

Reason.

Admit he be harde, nature hath made hym thy iudge, and not thee his: whiche order the Ci∣uyl lawe foloweth, and is ashamed to see the sunne to correct and chasten the father? Thou oughtest to be ashamed to enterpryse that whiche the lawe is ashamed to lycence any sonne to doo: suf∣fer thou, and let hym iudge of thee that begate thee, and brought thee vp, commit thou the iudgement of hym to other, and yf thy father haue not deserued true prayse, yet at the leastwyse reue∣rence hym with duetifull silence.

Sorowe.

My father vseth harde behauiour.

Reason.

The behauiour of thy father is not to be blamed, but to be borne with: There is no greater re∣proche to Alexander, then that he woulde seeme to attempt, I wyll not say to speake euyl of his father, but enuie his fathers commendations: Thou oughtest eyther to speake worshypfully of thy father, or els to holde thy peace altogeather.

Sorowe.

I haue an harde father.

Reason.

Thou hast a meane to shewe thy loue, to shewe thy honestie, to shewe thy pacience, and to shew thine obedience. In al the world there is none more iust then the empyre of a father, no seruice more honest then of a sonne. There is nothyng so muche a mans owne, as the sonne is the fathers, there can nothyng be more vniustly taken from hym then his sonne: But you with a headlong and intemperate desire, beyng borne to be subiect, desyre to be Soueraigne, and thus you both withdrawe your selues from your father, and also vsurpe the go∣uernment whiche your fathers ought to baue ouer you, where∣in is a double mischiefe: Whereby it commeth to passe, that the rashnesse of youth disturbeth the dueties of all thynges. Nowe hereof it proceedeth, that when perhappes you be restray∣ned from this, then you complayne of the sharpenesse of your father, beeyng woorthie your selues, in your owne iudgement, that it shoulde be lawfull for you to doo all thynges, only in this respect, for that you be sonnes: and ye haue learned also to please your selues at lookyng Glasses, whiche you shall then at length perceyue, when yee begynne to perceyue howe shameful∣ly you haue wyshed for it before your tyme.

Sorowe.

I

haue a rough father.

Reason.

What yf his roughnesse be fa∣therly? For the father oweth a rough carefulnesse vnto his sonne, and the sonne a reuerent duetifulnesse, obedience, and humble∣nesse vnto his father. Concernyng Manlius Torquatus thou hast read in Histories, and also in Marcus Tullius, that as he was very louyng vnto his father, so was he bitterly seuere vn∣to his sonne, perhaps woorthyly blamed by iudgement of the common people for the one, but hyghly commended by vpryght deemers for them both: suche diuersitie is there in mens opini∣ons.

Sorowe.

I haue an harde father.

Reason.

To late it is or euer you knowe your good, O yee mortall men. But when you begynne to knowe it, then doo you acknowledge it to muche: and thus yee loath the thynges that be present, and lament for them when they be lost. The one of these tasteth of to muche pryde, the other of ouer much humilitie, both where yee ought to geue thankes, and where you shoulde geue example of pacience, but in both yee complayne, and in neyther beare your selues indifferent: is this your thankefulnesse towardes God and men?

Sorow.

I haue an harde father.

Reason.

The tyme wyll come when thou shalt sygh and wyshe for this thy father, and shalt cal hym, and he wyl not answere thee. And he that nowe seemeth vnto thee more harde then stone, shal then seeme vnto thee that he was more soft then downe.

Sorowe.

I haue an harde father.

Reason.

Thou knowest not what it is to haue a father, as long as thou hast hym.

Of a stubberne sonne. The .xliiij. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Haue a stubberne sonne.

Reason.

It is meete, that thou that couldest not beare with thy father, shouldest suffer thy sonne, as beyng the heauier burden: For one sharpe woorde of the sonne irreuerently spoken by hym that is proude, doth more vexe and greeue the minde, then whatsoeuer hardnesse of a seuere father. For the sonne offereth the iniurie in so dooyng,

but the father dooth but that whiche is right.

Sorow.

I haue a rebellious sonne.

Reason.

Impudently doth he complaine of the rebellion of his youngers, that before tyme despised the iust aucthoritie of his elders.

Sorowe.

I haue a stubberne sonne.

Reason.

At length perhaps thou doest now vnderstand, what it was that thou thoughtest of thy father that seemed so harde vnto thee.

Sorowe.

I suffer an insolent sonne.

Reason.

If the faulte be in his age, it wyll we are away with it. The vn∣bridled youth of many, in precesse of tyme, by strange encrease, hath been conuerted vnto thriftinesse.

Sorowe.

I haue a rebellious sonne.

Reason.

Thou art not alone: For Da∣uid, and Mithridates that was Kyng of Pontus, & Seuerus the Emperour of Rome, had all rebellious sonnes, and also many hundred yeeres after, the seditious minde of a young Prince, who stirred a rebellion agaynst the kyng his father, disturbed the com∣mon quiet of the Realme of Britaine, as the common bruite go∣eth: but euery man bewayleth his owne mischaunces, and none the discommodities of an other, or the common calamitie.

Sorowe.

I haue an vngodly and rebellious sonne.

Reason.

A great part of the griefe of a father is taken from thee, if thou feare thy sonnes death.

Sorowe.

I haue a stouthful and a da∣stardly sonne.

Reason.

Knowest thou not, how that the worthy Scipio Africanus had a sonne very vnlyke vnto hym, which also dyd degenerate, notwithstandyng he loued hym tenderly? And truely we ought to beare more affection, I wyll not say loue, vnto hym whom nature doth lesse helpe. He hath neede of nothyng that is ryche in vertue, the want whereof maketh men very wretches, and so in consequent very needy of mercifulnesse: and therefore thou for thy part, yf vertue be not in thy sonne, yet loue hym, because he is thy sonne: yf not for that cause, then for that he is a man: Lastly, yf there be no cause at all why thou shouldest loue hym, them pittie hym. As seueritie belon∣geth to a father, euen so dooth compassion.

Sorow.

I haue a sonne of a moste wicked lyfe.

Reason.

An vnlucky burden, and so much the heauier, that as long as it is to be suffered, it can∣not be quite cast away: suffer, and as thou mayst amend it, so shalt thou either cure thy sonne, or at the least play the part of a father,

but this thou oughtest to do of duetie, and wyshe the other.

Sorowe.

My sonne is very vngodly, vncurteous, and vnreasona∣ble.

Reason.

If wantonnesse and pleasure be once growen vnto knauery and myscheefe, then is there a venomous beast to be driuen out a doores, neyther must we regard where, but what is borne and sprung vp: for you nouryshe vp birdes bread in the wylde wooddes, and ye kyl scorpions brought vp at home in the house.

Sorow.

I haue a very wicked sonne.

Reason.

It is the part of a wyse man to put a way daungerous thinges be∣fore they do any harme at al. Let not the shadow of godlynesse deceyue thee, no godlinesse is due vnto an vngodly person. A man may sometyme finde where it is a kynde of crueltie to be godly, but whyle there remayneth the least sparke of hope, alway∣es enclyne thy selfe vnto mercy and remember that thou art a fa∣ther, and not a iudge, and see thou forget not here that notable saying of Terence, For a great fault, a litle punishment is sufficient of a father.

Of a contentious brother. The .xlv. Dilalogue.

SOROW.

I Haue a contentious brother.

Reason.

And what of hym? then hath he not thee an agreeyng brother, for brotherly a∣greement, whiche ought of twayne to make but one, is deuided in twayne, so that you are made not diuers only, but quite con∣traryes: a greeuous mischeefe surely, but an auncient, which both the worlde and the head of the worlde had in the begynnyng: For the infamie of the citie of Rome is auncient, but that of the world is of more antiquitie, to wyt, that it was embrued with the blood of brethren. Therefore that which thou seest betweene al cooples of brethren, yea when there was but one coople only in the world, hast no cause to be amased at it now among so many thousandes.

Sorowe.

I haue a very contentious brother at home.

Reason.

Doest thou marueyle that to be in a greate house, whiche hath been in the narowe roome of one mothers wombe? where as in time past (which was a shadow of a greater misery) we reade of brothers that were not onely among them selues contentious,

but also togeather by the eares? Is it any strange thing then that men, being armed, shoulde do that whiche they that are vn∣borne are wont to doo?

Sorowe.

I fynde no fauour with my brother.

Reason.

Thou oughtest rather to haue learned this long before in the schooles, than to haue found it true in effect at home: thinges that are foreseene, are neyther complained of, nor woondred at.

Sorowe.

I haue an odious and contentious brother.

Reason.

As for the most part there is no loue more tender then the loue of brethren, so when it beginneth, there is no hatred more vehement, no enuie more vnquenchable. Thus equa∣litie inciteth and enflameth their mindes, when as the shame of geuing place, and the desyre of superioritie, is by so much the more feruent, the more that the remembrance of their infancie togea∣ther, or what so euer els may seeme to engender goodwyl, when as they be once digressed from the ryght way, may procure ha∣tred and disliking betweene them: in this respect therefore, the hart burnyng of a rebellious nature, may be very wel reclaimed, namely by curtesie & gentlenesse. For there is no nature almost so rough and vnciuile, whom at length true & continuall humilitie in woordes, and vnfeigned and gentle dealing in al matters, wil not ouercome and molifie. If thou finde this to be voyde and without force, or that peraduenture thou thy selfe canst not enforce thy minde hereunto, whereby he may be honestly and profitably con∣streyned, then before that the matter breake foorth vnto vtter de∣struction, thou must vse the last and extreame remedie, the roote of the mischeefe must be plucked vp, and comunitie remoued, which is the mother of discorde: wherein thou must demeane thy selfe so curteously, that looke howe muche thou yeeldest of thy right, so much thou shalt perceiue to be added vnto thy vertue and fame. The sharpe prickes of impious & proud desire, are by nothing bet∣ter rebated, then by vertuous and curteous liberalitie. That gold is good, whereby the peace of familie, and brotherly loue is pur∣chased. It is a very auncient, and no lesse true saying, That these two pronownes, myne and thyne, are great cause of warres and disagreement, whiche yf they were taken away from out of the life of man, out of doubt men should liue muche more quietly.

Of the losse of a father. The .xlvi. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Haue last my father.

Reason.

It is meete, that him whom thou complainedst of while he was present with thee, thou seeke him when he is absent, and yet not finde him. There is nothing more iust, then in vaine to wysh for the aucthoritie which thou hast contemned.

Sorowe.

I haue lost a good father.

Reason.

It is wel that he hath left a good sonne behinde hym: reioyce for the good olde mans sake, vnto whom at length that hath hapned which he alwayes wyshed for: who leauing thee in safetie, is de∣parted hym selfe out of this worlde.

Sorowe.

I haue lost a lo∣uing father.

Reason.

A good sonne standeth in dread of the chaunces of fortune for none other cause, then that any calamitie befallyng vnto hym, myght strike his fathers mind with sorow∣fulnesse: but nowe thou shalt lyue more at quiet at thine owne pe∣ril only, he shal not any more be greeued with rumours of thee, thine aduersitie shal not breake him, thy sicknesse shal not weaken him, thy death shal not kyl him.

Sorow.

I haue lost a most louing father.

Reason.

Thou must nowe begin to care for other, for he that was woont to care for thee is gone. That tendernesse that was showed ouer thee, repaye thou vnto another, it is seldome re∣payed vnto whom it is due.

Sorowe.

Poore wretche I haue lost a louing father.

Reason.

If thou knowe the reason and na∣ture of loue & tendernesse, comfort thy chaunce by remembrance of the time past: Thou diddest reuerence thy father, and as long as thou couldest, thou shewdst thy selfe alwayes duetiful vnto hym: thy father is departed, but thy duetifulnesse lyueth: other∣wyse. I confesse, thou haddest cause to be heauie continually.

Sorowe.

My father by dying hath forsaken me.

Reason.

Take in good part the common course of nature, he is first gone that first came into the world, neyther hath he forsaken thee, but is gone be∣fore thee.

Sorowe.

I haue lost my father.

Reason.

Thou know∣est not what it is to leese a father, vnlesse thou haddest had a sonne.

Of the losse of a mother. The xlvii. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Haue lost my mother.

Reason.

Thou hast yet another mother whom thou canst not leese if thou wouldest, from the first thou

camest, and vnto this thou shalt returne. The first gaue thee housé∣romth the space of a few monethes, the other shal giue thee lodg∣ing the space of many yeeres. The one of these gaue thee thy body, the other shal take it away.

Sorowe.

My most milde mother is dead.

Reason.

But a most hard mother remay∣neth, who wyl keepe thee and thy mother whom thou bewailest in one besome, in whose wombe she shal rest with thee, and as we beleeue, bryng you both foorth agayne at the last day.

Sorowe.

My good mother hath forsaken me.

Reason.

She made hast, fearyng to be forsaken, and likely it is, that her death was ac∣ceptable vnto her, because she would not see thine, prouiding for her securitie in that whiche alwayes she most feared.

Sorowe.

My good mother is dead.

Reason.

She is happily dead, thou being a lyue, whiche beyng otherwyse, such are the affections of women, she would haue died in sorowful lamentation.

Sorowe.

My mother is dead.

Reason.

Shee must haue died, and thou also, neyther canst thou complaine of death, nor of the order therof.

Of the losse of a sonne. The xlviii. Dialogue.

SOROW.

BUt I haue lost my sonne.

Reason.

Say rather and bet∣ter, I haue sent hym before me, for thou shalt folowe hym quickely, and perhappes to day, and howe know we whe∣ther this same houre? There is no trust in lyfe, since there is so great certentie in death: shalt folowe hym sayde I? Nay rather thou doest folowe hym I woulde haue sayde, for thou folo∣west hym continually: it is not permitted vnto a man at any tyme to stay his course in this lyfe, but euermore he steppeth foorth one step vnto death: a strange matter to be spoken, whe∣ther he be bound or at libertie, sicke or whole, walkyng or sitting, awake or sleepyng, he is caryed foorth toward his ende, much af∣ter the manner of them that sayle in a shyp, or sitte and ride in a wagon, and are carried foorth a pace.

Sorowe.

I am greeued with the lacke of my sonne whom I haue lost.

Reason.

Qiuet thy minde, for thou shalt finde hym whom thou de∣sirest ere it be long: not to be able to suffer the want of a

short tyme, is the part of a childe, or a woman: for vnto a man there is no short thing difficult. Thou knowest, I thinke, by what woordes Socrates in Plato, and Cato and Lelius in Cicero. do comfort suche desires and wantes. Although men surpasse in vertue and glory, yet in this hope do some farre surpasse other. Thou knowest moreouer of what minde Paulus Emilius, Cato hym selfe, Pericles, and Zenophon, that was scholer vnto So∣crates, and scholefelowe with Plato, and his equal, and other in∣numerable, were for the death of their chyldren: neyther art thou ignorant howe he that was both a prophet and a king, wept for his chylde whyle it was sicke, but not when it was dead, thinkyng, that to lament and weepe for thinges vnrecouerable, is rather a poynt of vayne madnesse, then of true affection. A∣mong the number of whiche manly examples the Spartane wo∣man shuffeleth her selfe, whose name is not set downe by wry∣ters, nor her saying semblably commended, who hearyng that her sonne was slayne in battayle, therfore, sayd she, did I beare hym, that he shoulde not be afrayd to dye for his countrey. The vertue of Linia, and the elder Cornelia, is nothyng inferiour vnto this, but their names muche more famous, of whom the first layde downe her mournyng so soone as her sonne, of most honourable byrth, and that was lyke to haue aspired vnto the hyghest degree of Empire, was once layd into the ground, but neuer left of the remembrance of hym: The other, hauing lost many chyldren, yea al that she had, whereof some she behelde slayne by the people, and lying abrode vnburyed, when as other women, accordyng to the manner of that sexe, rued her state, and pitifully weepyng bewa∣led her woful case, she answeared, that she was not infortunate, but happie, for that she had borne such sonnes. A woorthy woman, that was not surprised with the present miserie, but counted her selfe happie for that whiche was past, who contrary to the com∣mon opinion and custome of them that are in miserie, comforted herselfe with her forepassed felicitie, and the remembrance of her prosperitie wherin shee had somtime liued, and tooke it indiffe∣rently, although she had then lost it, & for that cause only was woor∣thie to haue bad good children. Now she, being a woman, remai∣ned wholy not once touched with the greeuous and sharp woundes

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of fortune: and thou, beeyng a man, art ouerthrowne by one only, doest thou lament so childishly?

Sorow.

I haue lost my sonne.

Reason.

If he were a duetiful sonne, there is no cause to feare his estate, for he is well: But yf he were wicked, thou art rydde of one that counted vpon thy death, and encreased the infirmities of thine olde age.

Sorowe.

I haue lost my sonne.

Reason.

If he were vertuous, reioyce that thou haddest hym: but yf he were vnthryfty, be glad that thou hast lost hym, and in eyther case ac∣knowledge the benefite of nature, eyther for geuing thee suche a one, or for takyng hym a way.

Sorowe.

Death hath taken a∣way my sonne before his tyme.

Reason.

That is not done be∣fore due tyme, whiche may be done at al tymes. Death hath di∣recte entrances into al ages, but into youth innumerable.

Sorowe.

I haue remayned without a sonne.

Reason.

And without trouble and feare. Now hast thou none, for whose cause thou shalt spend the nyghtes without sleepe, and the dayes in care, for whose sake thou shalt enter into long and inextricable hope, that shall thinke vpon thy hory heares, and wryncles, examine thy lyuing, fynde fault with thine expences, and blame the staying of thy death, thou art in securitie and quietnesse on euery side, both which are a great commoditie, although it be made more bitter by the name of death.

Sorowe.

I am cast downe by the geeuous death of my sonne.

Reason.

Hast thou not hearde what Anarago∣ras sayth? Hast thou forgotten that thou begattest a mortal crea∣ture? Or doest thou perhappes lament, that he is gone before, that should haue folowed? And although the lyfe of man in many other thinges be disordinate and out of course, yet death keepeth his ordinarie custome, crooked olde men stagger, and young men make hast, and chyldren runne headlong, & infantes at their first entrance into lyfe are drawen to their ende: one man more slowly, another more speedily, one more ripely, another more vn∣timely, but euery man must die: this is the conclusion of al. And in whatsoeuer age of this lyfe a man die, be it gently or sharpely, he hasteth vnto death.

Sorowe.

I weepe for the death of my sonne.

Reason.

If thou wouldest haue wept at his death, thou shouldest also haue wept at his birth, for then he began to die, but nowe he hath done. But do not thou lament for thine owne and his most

excellent estate: he left behind him a perilous way to passe, but thou hauing him alwayes before thine eyes, who now is in securitie, hast no farther regarde of thy sweete burden, as Virgil speaketh, or of any other.

Sorowe.

Al my delite to lyue, is extinguished.

Reason.

A good sonne, I confesse, is a great comforte vnto his father, but notwithstanding careful & greeuous. And many times the sweetest things do offend vs, and the dearest do hinder vs, and the most precious do oppresse vs. And perhappes this thy sonne was some let vnto thy minde, that would haue aspired vnto grea∣ter matters. And now although thou art become more heauie, yet since thou art at more libertie, be of good cheare: to gather good out of euyl, is the part of a wise man.

Sorowe.

The death of my lonne hath made me heauie.

Reason.

But spende the residue of thy lyfe that remayneth, in iolitie: thou diddest lyue for hym, now lyue for thy selfe.

Of the miserable fal of a young child. The .xlix. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Lament the miserable fal of my young child.

Reason.

A man ought to lament for nothing that may happen vnto mankinde: al thinges should be premeditated before, if they haue not hap∣ned alredie: lament not thy childes fal, but thine owne vnskyl∣fulnesse, & the forgetfulnesse of thine owne condition.

Sorow.

I complaine of the miserable death of my young childe.

Reason.

There is no death miserable, which the death of the soule doth not folow, from which daunger thy young child is free.

Sorowe.

My childe is dead by breaking his necke.

Reason.

What skylleth it after what sort a man dye, so that he die not dishonourably, & he can not die dishonourably, that dieth without offences.

Sorowe.

My chylde is peryshed by breakyng his necke.

Reason.

But Archemorus by the biting of a serpent, other some by suckyng milke of a nurse being with child, other by sickenesse, the which for the more part happen more commonly then, than in old age.

Sorowe.

My young child is perished by breaking his necke.

Reason.

Sodeyne death is to be wished of the innocent, and to be feared of the guiltie.

Sorowe.

My chylde is dead of a fal from an hygh.

Reason.

Unto them that dye languishingly, death often times seemeth the sharper, & the panges the longer: for al paine, y^e

shorter it is, the more tollerable it is.

Sorow.

My chylde is dead by breakyng his necke.

Reason.

To stumble and fal, is proper to that age. Thy chylde hath done that which al doo, al∣though al peryshe not by casualtie: but do thou suffer hym to pe∣ryshe, for he must needes peryshe one day, and he is the more happily dealt withal, for that he hath peryshed before he was intangled in the euylles of this lyfe, whiche howe manyfold they be, those that haue prooued, and diligently obserued, can tell. There is none that prooueth not in part, and they that obserue them not, leade foorth their liues as it were in a dreame, whiche so soone as they awake, they haue forgotten: Thyne, infant died an innocent, who perhappes, if he had lyued, had dyed a very hurtful person. Lament not that he is safe, he hath escaped al the threates of fortune, and hath preuented death, whiche being de∣ferred, would haue preuented hym.

Sorowe.

A woolfe hath de∣uoured my chylde.

Reason.

This nowe is the woormes complaynt.

Sorowe.

A woolfe hath carried away the bo∣dy of my poore chylde into his denne.

Reason.

But the an∣gels haue caryed vp his blessed soule into heauen.

Of a sonne that is found to be another mans. The .l. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

ANd moreouer (that whiche is more greeuous then death) he whom I thought had been my sonne, is another mans.

Reason.

If you had a respect to the common father, then would you by the counsel of the Comical Poet, thinke that there is no humane thing but may happen vnto you.

Sorowe.

I haue fostred another mans chylde a great while for mine owne.

Reason.

Nature wylleth a man to foster his owne, and charitie, to foster another mans, so that thou re∣pent thee not after the deede, but delite in it.

Sorowe.

He that was counted my chylde, appeareth to be another mans.

Reason.

There is opened vnto thee a way vnto a great and singuler merite, if, as thou hast hytherto done, so thou continue

hereafter, to keepe hym as thyne owne. Truely that were a very gracious and acceptable deede before God. For chyldren are woont for the more parte to contemne the mayntenance of theyr parentes, as a thyng due vnto them by ryght: and moreouer, it were a poynt of wickednesse to loue thy chylde that is borne of thee, and not to loue man that is created of God. Thus euery way, both before God and men, thou shalt purchase vnto thy selfe singuler commendation and vertue, through another mans wic∣kednesse.

Sorow.

I haue nooryshed one for my chylde that was not so.

Reason.

Thou nooryshedst hym as thy chylde, and so nooryshe hym styll, yf not as thy chylde, yet as thy brother: For of al the people that are, or euer shalbe, or haue been hereto∣fore, there is one father, and one gouernour. Doo not dissemble through insolencie, or through enuie and hatred breake of the sa∣cred bond of nature: for you be brethren one to another.

Sorowe.

He whom I thought to haue been, as I heare, is not my sonne.

Reason.

Take heede of whom thou hearest it, and whom thou trustest. For many, beyng pricked foorth by wicked prouoca∣tions, doo of set purpose deuise false rumors: and other some by a certayne slypprynesse and vnbridled affection of the tongue, doo aswell babble foorth the thynges that they knowe, as that they knowe not, and with lyke impudencie vtter whatsoeuer com∣meth in theyr mynde: Howbeit, to determine precisely of a mans chylde, whether it be his owne or not, is an harde case.

Sorowe.

I heare say that he that was called my sonne, is another mans.

Reason.

Why dooest thou herein beleeue other ra∣ther then thyne owne wyfe, since none knoweth it more certayne∣ly then she? Truely she hath geuen thee a chylde, whom other goe about to take from thee. Thou hast heard, I thinke, howe that within the remembrance of our fathers there was a certaine noble man, who had to wyfe a gentlewoman of equall beautie and parentage, but of whose honestie the report seemed some what to doubt: By her he hadde one moste beautifull sonne, whom when his mother vppon a tyme helde in her lappe, and perceyuyng that her husbande syghed and was carefull, she demaunded of hym what was the cause of his heauinesse? Then he syghyng agayne, I had rather, sayde

he, then the one halfe of my landes, that I were as sure that this boy were myne, as thou art that he is thyne. Whereunto she aunsweared, neyther in countenance nor mynde any whit mo∣ued: Truely, sayde shee, the matter shall not cost so great a price: but geue me an hundred acres of pasture, whereon I may feede my cattayle, and I my selfe wyll resolue thee in this matter. Then he answeared, that it was impossible. But she sendyng for such Noble men and Gentlemen as dwelt neere hande, and causyng hym to geue his woorde for the perfour∣mance of his promyse, helde vppe her young sonne in her armes, and, Is this my chylde in deede, myne sayde she? And when they all answeared, yea: she stretched foorth her armes, and delyuered hym vnto her husbande, and heere, sayde she, take hym, I geue hym thee freely: and nowe be assured that he is thyne. Then al that stoode by, brake foorth in laughter, and gaue iudgemente on the womans syde, and condemned the hus∣bande by all theyr verdictes. Such contentions and lamentati∣ons are thereto often among men, they be hastie to marriage, yea slipperie and headlong: you thynke you shall neuer see the day wherein you shalbe husbandes, that is to say, men, as though otherwyse you shoulde neuer be men. Then beyng resolued in ioyes, or to speake more truely, in madnesse, the fyrst dayes of your marriage you spende in reuel route, feastyng and daunsing, among your weddyng solemnities, with pastimes, and songes, and minstrelles: and the residue of your lyfe you spende in sus∣pition and braulyng. In both, you are to blame: For neyther ought you in suche sorte to loue so doubtful a thyng, neyther to ab∣horre so inseparable a thyng, nor to hate so louely a thyng, and by deceiptfull coniectures so to confounde the moste sacred lawes of the diuine and humane house, and dissolue the moste entyre bondes of this lyfe.

Sorowe.

Yea, my wyfe her selfe hath confessed that he is none of myne.

Reason.

Thou tellest me this, as yf it were some syngular matter, but it is com∣mon: some confesse so muche whyle they are lyuing, and some when they lye a dying, among whom some haue wylled to haue it imparted vnto theyr husbandes after theyr departure.

Sorowe.

Myne owne wyfe hath con••essed vnto me, that he is 〈…〉〈…〉

my sonne.

Reason.

Olimpias that was wyfe vnto the re∣nowmed kyng Phillip of Macedonie, confessed as muche vn∣to her husbande, whiche myght haue tended vnto the destruction of her valiant sonne: and yet we reade neyther of teares, nor sighes, nor complayntes among them all. Nowe hearken to a meery tale, but not vnfyt for our purpose. Not far from the Ocean Sea shore, whiche lyeth right ouer agaynst Britaine, not very many yeeres agoe, report goeth that there was a certayne poore woman, fayre and well fauoured, but a notable Harlot, who had twelue small chyldren, by as many seuerall men, one of them but a yeere elder then other. But beyng sicke, when she percey∣ued that the houre of her death was come, she caused her husband to be called vnto her, and, this is no tyme, sayde she, nowe to dis∣semble any longer, there is none of all these chyldren thyne, but the eldest only: for the first yeere that we were married I lyued honestly. It chaunced that at the same time, al the children sate on the ground about the fire eating, according to y^e maner of the coun∣trey. At which woordes the good man was amazed, and the children also that hearde their mothers communication, whose fathers she reckoned al by name as they were in order of yeeres: Which thyng the youngest of them all hearyng, who was then but three yeeres olde, immediatly layde downe his bread which was in his ryght hande, and the Rape roote whiche he had in his left, vppon the grounde besyde hym, and tremblyng with feare, and holdyng vp his handes after the maner of them that pray, Now good mother, quoth he, geue me a good father: And when in the ende of her speache she had tolde who was father to the youngest, to wit, a certayne famous ryche man: takyng vp his bread and meate agayne in his hand, That is well, sayde he, I haue a good father.

Of the losse of a brother. The .Lj. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Haue loste my brother.

Reason.

Yet I heare no cause why thou shouldest be very sory. For Ouid sayth to true, that there is seldome agreement betweene brethren.

Sorowe.

I haue lost my brother.

Reason.

It may be that thou hast at once lost both a brother, and an housholde enimie. Loe, see then what thou hast lost, an yll thyng couered with a good name.

Sorowe.

I haue lost a brother.

Reason.

Per∣happes thou hast lost hym that hath wyshed thee lost, and that alwayes resisted thyne attemptes. Brothers hatred hath hyn∣dred many from the entraunce vnto great commendation.

Sorowe.

I haue lost a brother.

Reason.

Thou hast lost peraduenture an heauie yoke, as oftentymes we haue seene it fal out, vnto the tender yeeres of thy chyldren, thou hast lost also the enuier of thy lyfe, the hynderer of thy glory, and also, which is e∣uident, the partner of thy patrimonie.

Sorow.

But I haue lost a vertuous and louyng brother.

Reason.

But a mortall one. Vertue is no defence to the body, but an ornament to the mynde, and a procurer of immortall glory, but as for the body she cannot exempt it from the power of death, but rather thrusteth it forwarde many tymes thereunto before due tyme: but yf he be left vnto nature, good and had doo perysh a lyke, and most commonly we see the best men weakest, and the woorst long lyued, but none immortall.

Sorowe.

I haue lost a good and gloryous brother.

Reason.

If thy brother be dead, the glo∣ry, vertue, & soule remaineth in safetie, which only excepted, death consumeth and destroyeth all other worldly thinges with lyke vi∣olence. These therfore embrace thou, as yf they were so many sonnes of thy brother, & with these immortal good things, requite the mortal euil: but if he haue sonnes liuing, vnfeigned duetiful∣nes shal make them thine.

Sorowe.

I haue lost a good brother.

Reason.

Thou shouldest haue employed hym diligently, which if thou diddest necligently, his death is not to be blamed, but thyne owne slouthfulnes. Death hath exercised his power, but thou hast slacked thyne oportunitie.

Sorow.

Death hath deceiued me, for I thought not that he woulde haue died so soone.

Reason.

All thinges that happen vnto them that are vnwillyng, seeme to come quickly, but if they be wished for, they come but slowly.

Sorowe.

I scarce thought that he could haue died.

Reason.

Vehement loue beareth with it selfe in al things, and promiseth it selfe euery thyng, vnpleasant thoughtes, & whatsoeuer is noysome

vnto cast it escheweth: insomuche as whosoeuer is in loue, ima∣gineth vnto hym selfe that his pleasures are in a maner euerla∣styng: thou, since thou knewest that thy brother was borne, oughtest also to knowe that he was mortall, and therefore yf thou bewayle his tymely death as some sodaine matter, thou art much deceyued, but if as it were vntymely, thou wast in a wrong opi∣nion.

Sorowe.

I knewe that he was mortall, but I thought not vpon his death.

Reason.

Vnwysely doone, but this is your dissimulation: beyng mortall ye thynke neuer to dye, when as you may chaunce to dye euery day, and needes you muste dye one day: Yea rather it is the vnchaungeable necessitie of the law of your nature, that you can neuer be other then suche as muste oye, whiche necessitie muste continually remayne with you: but you dying euery day, turne away your senses from the thynges that are present, and your mynde from the ende that wyll ensue. This is a common mischiefe, whiche what is it other then wyl∣lyngly to shut your eyes that they beholde not the beames of the Sunne, as though it were hurtful aswel to the lyght as it is to the eyes not to beholde it, and that that were as euident whiche you see not, and that as true whiche you knowe not. Who is so blynde that seeth not this, or so blockyshe that vn∣derstandeth it not? The infyrmitie of the senses or vnderstanding, withdraweth nothyng at all from the trueth of thinges. As for you, yee are neyther weake nor dull, but, wherein you can∣not be excused, egregius dissemblers, and very wyse to de∣ceyue your selues, who with so great diligence learne vnprofita∣ble thynges, and endeuour to be ignorant of necessarie matters, but all in vayne: for they steale vpon you though your eyes be shut, and inuade your myndes that are desyrous to be ignorant, and disquiet your memories that are wyllyng to forget, and ma∣ny thynges aryse dayly in the lyfe of man, whiche constrayne you to thynke vppon them when you woulde not, and whi∣che doo awake your dissimulations, eyther by your priuate or forreigne argumentes: but I confesse, that death only at full confuteth all the follies of mortall creatures.

Sorowe.

I knewe that my brother was mortall and shoulde dye, neuer∣thelesse I weepe for his death.

Reason.

The greater

part of humane actions is superfluous: Why weepest thou for his death? What doeth this weepyng auayle hym, or thy selfe, or any other? Admit death be euyll, whiche the learned denye, truely no man wyl denie but that weepyng is in vayne, for that whiche cannot be recouered. And veryly, yf any thyng myght be tearmed wretched besyde the vyce of the mynde, yf there be any thyng in all the worlde to be wept for, it ought ra∣ther be lamented whyle it is commyng at hande, then when it is past: whiche that Kyng conceyned ryght well, of whom I spake not long before.

Sorowe.

I am grieued for the death of my good brother.

Reason.

There is no affection more tender then a fathers, and therefore that whiche is sayde of the death of a sonne, applie it thou to the death of thy brother, and that whiche may be sayde of them both, is proficable in the death of a mans friende, whiche losse although it be matcht with the greatest, it muste be abydden, as of al other thynges: for all suche thynges as appeare vnto vs grieuous, are to be suf∣fered by one and lyke courage of mynde, although a man woulde thynke that they woulde quite oppresse hym.

Sorowe.

I haue lost a moste louyng brother.

Reason.

It had been woorse yf thou hadst loste a most hatefull brother: For the loue of the one, and the remembraunce of the other, is very plea∣sant.

Sorowe.

I haue loste a companion most pleasaunt vnto me euen from his tender youth, I am nowe left aloue.

Reason.

He is not a lone with whom vertue and honestie doo remayne, betweene whiche twayne death hath not forbydden the Image of thy brother to be fastened harde vnto thy hart-stringes: so neyther thy brother is lost, nor thou alone.

Of the death of a freende. The .Lij. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Haue lost a freende.

Reason.

If thou hast loued ver∣tue in thy freende as thou oughtest, truely she is not loste nor dead: and therefore it is sayde, that true freend shyppe is immortal, for that it is neuer broken, eyther by the fallyng

out of freendes, or els by death it selfe: and thus vertue ouer∣commeth discorde and all vyce, but she her selfe is neuer ouer∣come by any thyng.

Sorowe.

I haue lost a freende.

Reason.

All other thinges when thou hast lost them, thou hast them not, but when thou thynkest thou hast lost thy freendes and thy best beloued, then hast thou them most assuredly: For thynges whiche are present be delicate, I wyll not say weery∣some, yea and many tymes arrogant, and offended with very small trifles, but the remembrance of freendes is pleasant and sweete, hauyng in it nothyng that is bytter or contrary to de∣lyght.

Sorow.

I haue lost a very good freende by death.

Reason.

If thou complayne of the losse of commodities, thou makest accounte of profite, and not of freendshyp. If thou com∣playne of thy dayly conuersation with hym, remember howe short tyme freendes remayne togeather, and howe muche tyme we spende in cares, howe muche in syckenesse, howe muche in sleepe and pleasure, howe muche is spent in entercourse with straungers; how many heapes of cares: Finally, what businesse, what studies, what leasure, and what troubles sometymes of a∣nother mans, and sometymes of a mans owne, and also the continuall and inuincible necessitie of manyfolde matters, from whiche no prosperitie is exempt, doo withdrawe some thyng from our desired conuersation: how many seldome meetynges, howe short and carefull abydynges, howe sorowfull departynges, howe late returnynges, what stayes, what impedimentes, what deceiptes? With this and suche lyke difficulties of lyfe, & fetters of freendshyp, whiche may easily be brought into a mans remem∣brance, thou mayst vnderstande howe great a matter it is whiche death hath taken from thee. For if thou may this alone in freend∣shyp, which is the only perpetuall and stable foundation thereof, truely death could there take nothing away. Thou hast hearde in Marcus Tullie, of Lelius comforting him selfe, howe his freende Scipio lyueth yet to him, how fresh he is in his minde, & that ney∣ther y^e fame nor the vertue of his freend any time dieth. What for∣biddeth, but that thy freend Scipio liueth now vnto thee? But you, because ye cannot be Scipioes or Lelies, ye be not men neyther, & for that ye cannot atteyne to y^e highest, ye dispaire of the meane,

or contemne it, as though as in Poetrie, so in vertue, neither men nor the gods could aspire vnto a mediocritie.

Sorowe.

Death hath taken away my friende from me.

Reason.

Death is able to take away thy friendes body, but as for friendshyp and friend he is not able: For they are of the kynde of thinges that are not subiect to death nor fortune, but to vertue, the whiche among hu∣mane thynges is free only, & is able to geue freedome vnto what∣soeuer is subiect vnto her: and as for a friende, he should not be of so great price yf he coulde be so easily lost.

Sorowe.

I haue remayned without a friende.

Reason.

If thou do ryght∣ly honour friendshyp, thou shalt neuer lacke olde friendes, nor be destitute of newe, yea suche is the opinion hereof, that it wyl pur∣chase thee friendes of thyne enimies. There was nothyng that more recōciled Augustus the Emperour vnto Herode, then for that he professed that he was moste friendly affected vnto Au∣gustus enimie, and that by meanes of hym he hated Augustus most extreamely, for whiche cause Augustus iudged hym woor∣thy of his friendshyp, who with so great trustinesse had honoured the friendshyp of his enimie: so great is the beautie of vertue and friendshyp, that we are delighted therwith euen in our enimies, and enforceth a man to loue hym of whom he knoweth hym∣selfe to be hated.

Sorowe.

My most faythfull friende is dead.

Reason.

Thou muste bury hym in thy remem∣braunce, where he may secretely remayne with thee, and neuer dye altogeather: Whom yf thou hast lost by any other meanes then by death, then hast thou not lost a friende, but a false opi∣nion of friendshyp.

Of the absence of friendes. The .Liij. Dialogue

SOROWE.

I Am greeued for the absence of my friendes.

Reason.

It hapneth so many tymes: but he that hath learned to take in∣differently the death of his friende, may somewhat more mode∣rately beare his absence, neither can the absence of a friende o∣uerthrow him, whom the death of a friende could not ouerthrowe.

Sorowe.

My most deare friend is absent, my right hand, and my

right eye.

Reason.

Though he were so absent that he woulde neuer returne, yet woulde I say that there is nothing but a man ought to take it indifferently: but he wyl come a gayne, and thyne inte∣gritie shalbe restored vnto thee.

Sorowe.

My frende is absent, the one moitie of my selfe.

Reason.

Horace the poet tearmeth Virgil the one halfe of his soule, whiche phrayse beyng afterward vsed of many, is nowe growen into a prouerbe. But if a freend be not naturally only, but ciuilly also had in possession, wherein doth absence hurte frendshyp, but that wheresoeuer thou be, he may sit, walke, talke, and confer with thee in pleasant and serious matters? For if ye sawe nothing else but what lyeth before your eyes, and only the thinges that are present delited you, then should your sight be very short and narrowe.

Sorow.

I am sorie for the absence of my sweete freende.

Reason.

But you vse rather to be sorie for the absence of beloued, then sweete thinges. Hearken now vnto that which wil scarce enter in the common peoples eares. It is a strange case, howe ticklish and loathsome somtime is the presence yea of mens dearest freendes: manie times men are of∣fended at a smal matter, and those whom they loue berie wel, or whose presence they earnestly desire, not only their friendes, but al∣so their brethren or children, for that perhapes they are some hin∣drance vnto their studies and businesse, they had rather sometime that they were absent. In their absence there is nothing bitter, nothing that greeueth our desire, but that they are away, whiche notwithstandyng thou canst not deny to be pleasant.

Sorowe.

The absence of my belooued frende greeueth me.

Reason.

This is a common thing, I confesse, among women & suche as loue af∣ter a womanish maner, whose whole delite consisteth in the senses. Notwithstandyng, of these the poet spake where he saith, He that is absent, heareth and seeth another that is absent. Which if it be so, why should not also a freende see and heare his freende that is ab∣sent, vnlesse peraduenture your eyes be more bright and cleare to beholde the visions of lasciuiousnesse then of vertue, or els there is more honoure to be ascribed vnto mad then chast loue, which be∣sides honest and quicke thoughtes, which no distance of place, nor necessitie of force can restrayne to wander, and be conuersant where soeuer it pleaseth them, there is a prouision made by the

benefite of sendyng letters, then whiche I knowe not whether there be any presence more acceptable. Marcus Cicero was in Rome, whyles wryting vnto his brother. Quintus Cicero who as deputie gouerned the countrey of Asia, when I reade thy let∣ters, sayth be, me thinkes I heare thee speake, and when I wryte vn∣to thee, me thinkes, I talke with thee. And anon exhortyng hym vn∣to the excellencie of glory, he sayth, that he hath founde it very effectuous, in al his woorkes and deedes to imagine vnto hym∣selfe that his brother was present with hym. I cannot tel whether he were at Athens, or in some other place where Epicurus was present, whyles wryting vnto his freende, So behaue thy selfe in al matters, sayth he, as if Epicurus hym selfe beheld thee. True∣ly Anneus Seneca was in Campania, whiles by his letters com∣muning with his freend that soiourned in Sicilia, he exhorteth him to studie, to dyne, and walke with him, which he coulde not do but in minde only, and thervnto wanted neyther the assistance of the eyes, nor of the eares, nor of the handes, nor of the feete.

Sorowe.

Myne eyes do greedily requyre myne absent freende:

Reason.

I cannot deny, but that by absence there is some delite taken from the eies, but nothing from the minde, neyther from the eyes in a manner, as I sayde before, yf it be true freendshyp. From hence it commeth, that in the same Poet we reade & com∣mende this saying, Pallas, Enander, they al stande before his eyes. And Cicero hym selfe also in a certayne epistle, sayth, that he bea∣reth not onely in his minde his freend Balbus, who serued vnder Caesar in Fraunce, but also in his eyes.

Sorowe.

My freende is absent.

Reason.

Sometyme a freende is not knowen, vnlesse he be absent. As in al other thinges, so lykewyse in freendshyp, great plentie dulleth the sense, and scarcitie sharpneth it. And yf the schoolemaister of loue sayth, that intermission of loue is profi∣table vnto louers, whose vniuersal pleasures consist in presence, why should not the same also be auaile able vnto freendes, whose whole delite is reposed in vertue, and feeleth no discommoditie in absence, since it is present in euery place? Do not therefore geue ouer vnto desire, but embrace thy freend in thy remembrance, whom neither departure nor death it selfe can take from thee.

Sorowe.

I suffer greeuously the absence of my sweete freende.

Reason.

Suffer it onely, and confirme the softer partes of thy minde with present vertue. For this bitter absence, whiche thou nowe bewaylest, perhappes in time shal make thy freende more deare vnto thee, and his presence more acceptable.

Of greeuous shypwracke. The liiii. Dialogue.

SOROW.

I Haue been tossed in a greeuous shypwracke.

Reason.

Thou tellest me of the shypwracke on the sea, but as for the wracke of the minde thou speakest nothing of it, as though there were any more greeuous, or common. There is the tempest of de∣sires and affections, as if it were of contrarie blusteryng windes, which when the sayles of your concupiscences and hope are hoised and spread, bearing away the helme of the minde, and leesing the ankers of constancie in the deepe sea, driueth you about vnto al coastes, and ouer al seas: that wracke it was that draue thee into this. Take away desire, and thou shalt take away this sayling for the most part, or at leastwise the danger therof: the same driueth men not only into ships, but miserably vpon rockes, and death it selfe. And therfore, for the most part al that by their owne seking perish in the sea, haue first perished in the minde, and were first ouerwhelmed by the waues of couetousnes, before that they were drenched in the surgies of the sea. For desire com∣meth seldome without headlong hastinesse, and that which it wil haue, it wil haue it presently, al tariance and the companions ther∣of costlinesse it hateth, the same is the redie way vnto destruction, and the first cause of often shypwracke.

Sorowe.

I am discomforted by a great shypwracke.

Reason.

Thou hast learned to pray vnto God, to make vowes, and promise many thynges, of whiche although feare was the cause, yet since thou art arryued agayne on the lande, acknowledge thou that fayth was the cause: God is not mocked skot free, he hateth the brea∣kers of their faithful promises.

Sorowe.

I haue suffered a foule shypwracke.

Reason.

None complayne of shyp∣wracke, but they that haue escaped it. Reioyce therefore that thou art safe, and more expert. The remembrance of

dangers past, is commonly delectable, as contrariwyse the me∣mory of forepassed prosperitie is greeuous. But howe muche wouldst thou haue esteemed in foretymes to haue seene the Tri∣ton goddes of the sea, and the mountaines of water foming, & the waues vp to heauen swelling, & the monsters of the sea swimming? Thou hast now some feareful tales to tel in the winter nightes by the fire side, to make folke a fearde withall, and to holde thyne amazed family in admiration. Nowe therefore thou knowest what is a poetical tempest, and that feare whiche thou wouldest scarce beleeue, is certaynely knowen vnto thee, whiche thou hast now wel gained, eyther by the feare of death, or losse of goodes.

Sorow.

I haue been in a dangerous shypwracke.

Reason.

There is nothyng learned without trauayle, this if thou be wyse, shalbe a perpetual lesson vnto thee, that heareafter thou neuer perswade thy selfe to commit thy lyfe vnto the windes.

Sorowe.

I haue suffered a woful shypwracke.

Reason.

If this be the first, take heede thou fal not into the seconde: if it be the second, then holde thy peace. For proper is the saying of Publius the wryter of scoffes: He wickedly accuseth Neptune, that committeth shipwracke the seconde tyme.

Sorow.

I haue scarse escaped in a terrible shypwracke.

Reason.

I can not see why it shoulde be more terrible to dye in the sea, then vpon the lande, seeing men must needes dye vpon the one of them, or why it were better to feede wormes, then to be baite for fyshes: but forasmuche as thou hast escaped, beware that thou commit not agayne thy lyfe to a bro∣ken oare, or a rotten boorde. Since thou art an earthly creature, learne to keepe the earth, and rather to affect heauen then the sea.

Of Burnyng. The .lv. Dialogue.

SOROW.

I Haue scarce escaped out of a burning fire.

Reason.

Doest thou then drawe it vnto the iniurie of fortune, that thou hast escaped? Let Alcibiades be moued, who could not escape out of y^e hot burning of his enimies: howbeit although thou haue preuented

the earthly, yet who is able to gainestād the burninges that come from heauen? Let the Romane kyng Tullus Hostilius, and the Romane Emprour Charus, answeare me, whereof the one was consumed with fyre from heauen in the pallace at Rome, and the other in his tentes neare vnto the ryuer Tigris, if we may credite common histories.

Sorowe.

Hauing lost al my goodes, I haue escaped naked out of the fyre.

Reason.

Whom I pray thee, would eyther Kias, as al men say, or Stilbon, as Seneca wyl haue it, haue spoken suche a woorde? who when his countrey was on fyre, being demaunded, or rather reprooued, for that he conueighed none of his goods out of y^e flame, as other of his neighbours did, answeared in this manner? Al my goodes, sayd he, I carrie with me. Woorthily, truely, whether it were the one or both of them that spake it: although suche kinde of speeches do alwayes sound most excellently out of the mouth of the first aucthour of them: but omitting the aucthour, the trueth of the saying is commonly perceiued. For the true goodes in deede remayne within, and can∣not be taken from the owner whyle he lyueth, neyther when he is dead. For they cleaue fast to the soule, whyther as neyther the ryght hand of fortune, nor of death is able to reache. Thou being safe and sounde, lamentest that thou hast lost certayne thynges, whiche if they had been thine in deede, out of doubt they had been safe with thee this day. For beleeue me, true goods doo not pe∣ryshe. Golde is not more precious then vertue, nor so good as it, although it be not consumed, but purged by the fyre.

Sorowe.

A great fire hath blasted me.

Reason.

There was one Caeculus, I knowe not who, that sought the fame of diuinitie by fyre. In Virgil, a flame of fire taking hold of Iulus haire, gaue the first hope to their doubtful health. And for that Seruius head burned light with fire, it was no poetical, but an historical abodyng of a kingdome. It is wel knowen that the founders of the Empire of Rome, escaped out of the flame of Troy. To be short, the scrip∣tures declare that Helias dyed by fyre, and that the Lorde hym selfe appeared in a flame of fyre: so that it is not for nought that bonefires are a token of myrth and reioycing in your cities, whiche now is a cause of thy heauinesse.

Sorowe.

My house is suddenly consumed with fyre.

Reason.

Yea, the temple of

Diana at Ephesus was in olde tyme set on fyre, a goodlier peece of woorke then whiche, that age neuer sawe. And also the temple of Hierusalem, that was dedicated vnto the lorde of heauen, was burnt, the verie enemies pitiyng it that set it on fire: & likewise in this our age the laterane castel, for beautie the flowre of the world, was twice consumed with fire, an euident & plaine token of Gods wrath, in my iudgment: no strange matter I confesse, but ter∣ryble. And last of al, to say nothing of litle cities, fire hath often touched Saguntum, and Numantia, and Corinth, and other innumerable, yea and Rome it selfe was brought almost vnto vtter destruction: And Carthage once, and Troy was twice des∣troyed with fire. Cities haue been burned, and we beleeue that the whole worlde shalbe one day brought to nought by fire. And do∣est thou then complaine that it dare take hold on thy house, that shal consume both heauen and earth?

Sorowe.

I had much a doo to escape out of the fyre.

Reason.

Thou hast escaped then, and art thou sorie for it? vnlesse thou haddest escaped, thou haddest helde thy peace, but now being a lyue and ashes, thou la∣mentest that ashes is extinguished.

Of great laboure and traueyle. The .lvi Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Am weeried with great labour.

Reason.

There is no glo∣rie without difficultie. Al vertue dwelleth on hygh, not easily to be atteyned, the passage thereunto is cragged, rough, and ful of stones.

Sorowe.

I am ouerweerie with traueyle.

Reason.

Traueyle is the ground of vertue, and rest of pleasures: there is nothing commendable, nothing excellent, without tra∣ueyle: and therefore laboure was the foundation of Hercules prayse. By nothing is Vlisses better knowen then by traueyle: howe wyse soeuer he be feigned, if his wysedome had been idle, it had been vnknowen. Laboure aduaunced the Romane cap∣taynes, the Scipioes and Camillus, laboure the Fabi•• and Curij, laboure Fabricius and the Metelli, labour also Pompeius the great, laboure Hannibal, and labour also aduaun∣ced

Iulius Caesar vnto honoure: Labour made the Catoes and Marius famous, & painful warfare ennobled Papyrius Cursor, and Possennius niger. To omit philosophers & Poetes, whose whole life what is it other then a famous and pleasant traueile? what shal I say of artificers, whose glorie what soeuer it is, by what traueile they get it thou knowest, with what diligence, as watching late, and rising early, they gaine it: of which matter we reade how that Demosthenes was woont to com∣plaine, which truely may be no smal prouocation vnto them that deale in great matters, since that smal thinges do so stirre vp and sharpen the minde. And therfore peruse ouer al sortes of men, and whereas there is much fame, there is also plentie of trauayle, and alwayes labour is beloued of the louers of ver∣tue, without whiche they cannot atteyne vnto glory, whiche they loue and seeke after.

Sorowe.

I am continually ex∣ercised in labour.

Reason.

Great labour auaileth not, vn∣lesse it be continuall: for why? the glory that is wonne by labour, vnlesse it be continuall, wyl not seeme great.

Sorow.

I am vexed with to continuall labour.

Reason.

To muche and to litle are taken in respect of the sufferers: vnto a slouth∣full person al labour is to muche, but none to muche to the in∣dustrius.

Sorowe.

Many labours greeue me.

Reason.

They shoulde not greeue thee, yf thou were a man, but rather sharpen and quicken thee. Wouldest thou know what difference there is betweene laboure and pleasure? compare then Sardana∣palus with Hercules, Sergius Orata with Attilius Regulus, A∣picius with Caius Marius.

Sorow.

Continual labour maketh me leane.

Reason.

Labour in that respect hath been a remedie vnto many, & hath cleared and abated those whom rest had infected & deformed: for it is euident that laboure cureth the mynde, withstandeth the sprynging of vices, and plucketh then vp by the rootes. To be short, among the causes of the excellencie of aun∣cient vertue and prowesse to fore in elder tymes, are reckoned by wryters on the one syde labour, and on the other pouertie: and those troubles of the body are to be wyshed, whiche cure the troubles of the mynde.

Sorowe.

My labour is payneful.

Reason.

Vertue and labour are payneful,

pleasure and idlenesse easie: thinges that are lyke remayne wel to∣gether, but betweene contraries there is disagreement.

Sorowe.

My chaunce is to paynefull.

Reason.

Thou takest thy tra∣uayle in toyl a part. Knowest thou not that whiles the godly in times past haue rysen out of their beddes at midnight, in the cold, watchyng and occupiyng them selues in prayer vnto almightie God, the whoremongers in the meane whyle, haue accomplished their filthy pleasures? And likewyse whyle the souldier keepeth watch and warde in the campe for the defence of his countrey, and the captayne in his tent for the enlarging of the boundes thereof, and the student among his bookes, for the beautifiyng of the same, the infamous baude taketh his rest in his lodging among the thickest of his gracelesse trulles: but whiche of these are in best case, there is none that hath in hym any sparke of honestie; that wyl make any doubt soone to define.

Sorowe.

I am vrged with very paineful labour.

Reason.

Be of good cheare, if so be the cause only of thy laboure be honest, thy labour is honest also, by meanes whereof thou shalt be reckoned among famous men. All that endeuour to rise vnto glory, must passe through a paynefull and narowe path, but to dishonour, the way is downe hil, and ea∣sie to be traueiled. To be short, whosoeuer is borne, is borne to la∣bour and trauayle, neyther do I except herein the sonnes of kin∣ges. Labour and vertue are your artes, not idlenesse and pleasure, vnto whiche who so apply them selues, do degenerate from the nature of men, and transfourme themselues into beastes

Sorow.

I am worne with grieuous labour.

Reason.

That labour which is grieuous vnto them that yeeld vnto it, is easie vnto them that endeuour earnestly against it. Only endure it with a valient minde, and arise agaynst it, and compare the ende with the pre∣sent paine. Labour hath aduaunced manie, and industrie manie, but neuer anie became glorious through slouthfulnes.

Of a painful iourney. The lvii. Dialogue.

SOROW.

I Goe a payneful iourney on my feete.

Reason.

Haddest thou rather then goe vpon the feete of another? But ye wyl not

woorke with the handes, nor see with the eyes, nor heare with the eares, nor taste with the mouth, nor smell with the nose of ano∣ther: What speciall matter is this then, that only you take a pleasure to goe with the feete of another?

Sorowe.

I goe on foote.

Reason.

Camest thou on hors backe into the worlde, or thynkest thou so to depart? Why then shoulde it grieue thee so to continue in the worlde? But needes thou must ryde a cock∣horse? O howe simple was thy beginning, and howe poore wylbe thy ende, and howe proude are the tymes that are be∣tweene, and in so short a course howe great forgetfulnesse of both extremities? neyther doo you remember from whence you come, nor whyther you shall.

Sorowe.

I am constrayned to goe a great iourney on foote.

Reason.

To be constray∣ned, I confesse, is an harde case, but he that is wyllyng, cannot be constrayned: disdayne and repynyng encrease the weight of necessitie, by pacience and agreeablenesse of mynde, the sharpe∣nesse of fortunes dart is rebated. Wylt thou not be constrayned? then doo that wyllyngly whiche thou art compelled to do. Woul∣dest thou haue thy long iourney made shorter? then goe with a good wyll.

Sorowe.

I woulde wyllyngly ryde, but I goe on foote.

Reason.

Is it not a great madnesse for one foure∣footed beastes sake, the vse whereof thou knowest not howe long fortune wyll lende thee, to forget the benefite of nature? As many haue doone and styll doo, who vpon the confidence which they haue in a vile, and vnrulie, and transitorie horse, forget to goe on their owne feete: vnto these sortes of men what might one wish better then the riche gout, that is to say, vnprofitable feete, and many horses?

Sorow.

I wil go a great iourney on foote.

Reason.

Thou shalt goe at thy pleasure, none shal carie thee beyonde thy prefixed place, none shal stay thee, none shal trouble thee, none shall shake thee, none shall throwe thee downe, or iostle thee, thou hast but one labour vpon the way, thy paine is on∣ly to go, thou hast no businesse nor trouble with thy bearer. Thou shalt not be constrayned to bridle and rayne thy horse, to spur and beate him, to water and litter him, to walke and rub him, to feede him, to curry him, to anoynt his sore backe, or to feele his drie hoofes, or handle with thy fingers the dangerous nayles, or with

staues to depart their nightly conflictes, and to awake them out of their sleepe, and alwayes to be carefull and circumspect howe these licentious cattayle vse them selues towardes their neygh∣bours, at leastwyse thou shalt take thy rest in the night season, for they that ryde, do trauayle, and are troubled also in the night.

Sorowe.

I go a long iourney on foote.

Reason.

Perhaps in shoes. For the holie fathers walked about the wildernesse vpon their bare feete. The apostles, which were the messengers of Al∣mightie God, walked throughout al partes of the worlde, one into the East, another into the Weast, another into the North, & another into the South, somtime they went by water, & that but seldome, only when as the situation of the place was such as they coulde not otherwise choose: but which of them, I pray thee, hast thou hearde to haue ridden on horsebacke, except S. Iohn only? Neither rode he euer more then once, and that but a litle way, which was as Clemens writeth, & the Ecclesiastical historie ma∣keth mention, when as he was stirred foorth with a godly hast, to recouer the soule of a lost & desperat young man. And how should they ryde, whose Lorde and Maister went on foote? He scarse rode once hym self vpon a poore Asse, which was not long before he was hanged vpon the crosse. But if these examples doo ouer∣burden thee with incomparable holynesse, yet is it knowne well yenough that the Romane armies, which vanquished the whole world, were for the most part of them footemen, who not only carried their armour and weapon on foote, but also as muche vic∣tual as should serue them many dayes, moreouer a kinde of muni∣tion, whereby, when once they were entred within their enimies boundes, they defended their campe in the day times, and theyr tentes in the nyght, agaynst the inuasion of their enemies: wher∣vpon our cuntreiman Cicero, in a certein place excellently dispu∣ting of the Romane souldiers, when he had sayd that vnto vali∣ant men of other nations theyr armour was no impediment, but in the maner of a garment, yet this commendation he gaue them aboue al other, saying, that vnto the Romane souldiers only their armour & weapons were not a garment, but stood them in steede of their armes & shoulders. And when they had once put on those warlike burdens whereof I spake, then they thought them selues

in deede to be apparrelled. And least haply any man be deceiued by the common custome of speache, let it be knowne vnto them, that by the name of souldiours or seruitours, footemen are only signified, and that in many places of the Romane historie it may be geathered, that by this name they are distinguished from horse men, although they doo both sortes of them serue in the warres. Wherefore, the remembrance of theyr labour and trauayle may breede thee no small ease & comfort, not only being vnarmed, and light, and trauayling on an hard, though a safe iourney, but also yf thou were armed and heauily laden, and faryng on foote in a dan∣gerous path. For there is nothing more effectuall vnto the beare∣yng of aduersitie, then to thinke that many haue borne the same with valiant myndes. And a loftie minde wylbe ashamed that he only cannot doo that which in numerable coulde doo before hym. Whiche thought hath not only been profitable in labours of diffi∣cultie, but also in those paynes and tormentes of the body whiche seeme to be most miserable, & specially in death it selfe.

Sorowe.

A long & payneful iourney do I sorowfully passe foorth on foote.

Reason.

There is nothing that so much easeth a painful iour∣ney, and comforteth an heauie minde, as noble and sweete cares, which cannot harbour within the hart, and keepe company al the way long, vnlesse it be with some good and learned man. Here∣vnto if by chaunce there happen the pleasaunt societie of some meery and eloquent companion, the iourney shall not only seeme light, but short also. Many haue been so delighted with pleasaunt communication vpon the way, that they haue felt no tediousnesse at al of the trauaile, and although the iourney were long indeede, yet haue they complayned of the shortnes therof, supposing them selues not to haue gone, but rather to haue been carried. This is also common among the wr••tie sayinges of Publius. A pleasant companion vpon the way, is as good as a Wagon.

Of one yeeres barrennesse. The .Lviij. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Am oppressed with the barrennesse of one yeere.

Reason.

Plentie then will be the better welcome vnto thee: euery thing is best knowne by comparyng it with the contrary.

Sorowe.

My lande hath deceyued myne expectation.

Reason.

It is not thy lande that hath deceyued thee, but thy wyckednesse and greedinesse of mynde: you promyse your selues euery thyng to fall out as you would haue them, lyke proude fooles, beyng wor∣thie in your owne opinion that nature her selfe shoulde be at your commaundement. Who yf she dare receyue her ryght, and fayle once to satisfie the deepe and bottomelesse whyrlpoole of your co∣uetous mynds, which nothyng is able to fyl, then seemeth she vn∣to you straunge, and couetous, & iniurious. This is no righteous nor modest hope, but the imaginations of an immoderate desire: yee feigne that those thynges shall come to passe whiche you woulde haue, and if you mysse ought thereof, you call it a losse: thy lande keepeth it olde custome, and thou thyne. For the bar∣rennesse and fruitefulnes of the earth come by course, but your co∣uetousnesse is continual: You, beyng most partiall interpretours of all thynges, when as you ought to take the first thankefully and soberly, and the seconde patiently and valiantly, the one you contemne, the other you bewayle, the one maketh you proude, the other playntyffe.

Sorowe.

My lande whiche promised me better successe, hath deceiued me.

Reason.

You weery the earth with your oxen and plowes, and heauen with your vowes and prayers. The blowing of the wyndes, the oportunitie of shewres, the comelinesse of the springyng trees, the beautie of the fieldes, the Wynters dust, the Springs durt, the Sommer Sun, the rypenesse of haruest, all these do drawe your couetous mindes into hope. And lyke as euery flambe setteth on fyre the drie stubble, and euery wynde bloweth abrode the loose dust: euen so euery gaine engendreth hope to the couetous minde, and the least losse, not of substance only, but also of hope, quite confoundeth him. But O you wretches, moderate your vnseemely motions, restraine your vnmeasurable couetousnesse, and chasten your cre∣bulus hope, which hath ben frustrated by a thousand successes: to what end do you looke vpon heauen and earth? Plentifulnesse commeth from God only. O ye mortal men, suffer him to worke his pleasure, & behold you what is done, & praise it. Let the worke∣man woorke, & denye not vnto God that reuerence which ought to be geuen to a man that is skilful in any science. Let vesselles of

earth be ashamed to controule the heauenly potter, but in voyce and mynde geue thanks vnto hym for al thing, who being priuie of your necessities, and not ignorant of your desires, relieueth the one, and frustrateth the other: in both he is mercyful, and ter∣rible in counsell ouer the sonnes of men, insomuche as it is writ∣ten of hym, Put your trust nowe at length, not in your fieldes, but in the Lorde, woorke righteousnesse, and inhabite the earth, and feede on his riches, and take pleasure in the Lorde, and he shall graunt you your hartes desire: whiche, when you haue once begunne to take delyght in hym, cannot be couetous nor vniust. Lay foorth your wayes before him, and trust in hym, and he wyl bryng it to passe. Cast your cares vpon the Lorde, and he wyll noorishe you. Why doo you thynke vpon & loue nothyng but the earth. O ye that were fashioned by the hande of God? Doo not contemne these sacred speaches as you were woont to do, pray not for rayne, or shyning, or any other weather agreable to your appetite, put not your confidence in the earth, but only in hym that beholdeth the earth, and maketh it to tremble, who draweth the moyst streames out of the hardest rockes, who, to be briefe, hath suffered thee to be deceiued by the fielde, to the end thou shouldest put thy trust in him that neuer de∣ceiueth.

Sorowe.

I haue lost much of my accustomed plenty.

Reason.

That is only withholden, which eyther y^e yeres goyng before dyd geue ouermuche, or the yeeres folowyng shal geue hereafter. A litle moderation is sufficient. Couetousnesse encrea∣seth by gayne, and the more it hath, the poorer it is. Plentie is a great mother, a great nurse and fauourer of vices: Suffer some∣what to be diminished from thy euils, the lesse plenty thou hast, the lesse shalbe thy pryde, & the lesse thy licentiousnesse. Adde here∣vnto moreouer, that this the default of thy land would be coun∣ted beneficial & plentie among some, and thou thy self, if thou were accustomed vnto scarcitie, wouldest iudge this to be plentie: so great a sway doth custome alwayes beare in discerning matters, and hath so great a force. What maruayle then is it now, if they contemne moderate things, which are accustomed vnto superflu∣ous? then which there is no storme greater to the ouerthrowe of modestie.

Sorowe.

I am greeued with vnaccustomed bar∣rennesse.

Reason.

Often tymes the plague of barrennesse

bryngeth foorth the more valiant men, and the blessing of plenty more effeminate, and not only bringeth them foorth, but maketh them suche, and hardeneth or softeneth them that are borne els where. Thus dyd Asia first mollifie the French men immediate∣ly after the Romanes, and Babilon vanquyshed Alexander, and Capuariannes hardened the nature of the Romanes, and sharp∣ned it as it had been a Whetstone. Since plentie then hath sof∣tened thee, let scarcitie harden thee: Let thy lande teache thee sobrietie, and let thy barren grounde perswade thee vnto that, whereunto thy plentifull bookes cannot. There is no man that ought to be despised that professeth hym selfe a teacher of profita∣ble doctrine. Learne to lyue well: Learne, I say, though thou be olde, though thou be vnwyllyng, yea though thou dis∣dayne at it.

Of an euyll and proude Bayliffe. The .Lix. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Suffer a proude Bailiffe.

Reason.

If he be proude onely, and not a theefe also, it is wel with thee.

Sorowe.

I haue an euil Bayliffe.

Reason.

Beare him indifferently, for vn∣lesse he be very euyl, he is a good Baylyffe.

Sorowe.

I am grieued at my rude Bailiffe.

Reason.

Thou wouldest be more grieued at hym, yf he were soft and delicate: Roughnesse and rudenesse are termes proper for Clownes, for they toyle with the rough oxen, with rough plowes and harrowes, with rough spades and rakes, and lastly with the rough earth it self, and what then shoulde they be other then rude and rough them selues? If he haue no other faulte but that he is rude, he is Bailiffe good ye∣nough.

Sorowe.

I cannot abyde an importunate Clowne.

Reason.

But thou must eyther abyde thy Bayliffe, or els be Bayliffe thy selfe, and determine to goe dwel in the rude countrey where all thynges are hard and rough.

Sorowe.

I haue an vnruly husbandman, and without all ciuilitie.

Reason.

None of these ought to be vnthought vpon of thee. So soone as thou

hadst lande, thou shouldest haue forseene the manyfolde toyles be∣longing thereto, barkynges, and thy Bayliffes disdaynefulnesse. At what tyme thou vauntedst thy selfe of thy fruiteful lande, I tolde thee that husbandmen were the last of all people whom iustice departed from, when she forsooke the earth. If euer man∣kynde shoulde be reuiued agayne, I suppose, that they be the laste that shall fynd her. Thus they be gone before them whom they fo∣lowed, and are become of all euyll men, the most wicked.

Sorow.

I haue a very sharpe Bayliffe.

Reason.

Where as the trueth him selfe sayde, that the earth should bryng foorth vnto man thornes and bryars, that is to be vnderstoode of husbandmen, who are sharper then any bryars.

Sorowe.

I haue a very wycked Farmer.

Reason.

Eyther learne to suffer the wyc∣kednesse of thy Farmer, or els sterue for hunger: For to chaunge thy Farmer it shal not auayle thee, seeyng they be all in a maner of one qualitie, sauing that alwayes the woorst commeth laste.

Sorowe.

My Bayliffe is a Theefe.

Reason.

Now thou hast spoken that whiche I looked for all this whyle: For they are so adicted to stealyng, that the litle whiche they get that way is more sweete vnto them, then whatsoeuer they gayne by theyr true labour. But this must also be borne withall, neyther ought one to complaine of that which is common to al men. And truely although the Poet set downe, that the Hyndes of the Countrey were last of all forsaken of iustice, as I haue sayde twise before: Notwithstandyng it is well knowen, that the first man that was begotten amongst you of the seede of man, was both an husband∣man, and a murtherer of his owne brother, that they may seeme alwayes to haue been the worste kynde of people, ouer whom whyles thou thynkest, thou needest not to maruayle that they be Theeues also.

Sorowe.

Through the faulte of my Bay∣liffe, my Farme is destroyed, and vntylled.

Reason.

The lyke hapneth euerye day vnto greater personagies then thou: and in olde tyme vnto Anaxagoras, and Architas, who were both, I thynke, sory for it, but neyther of them angrie.

Of Thefte. The .Lx. Dialogue

SOROWE.

THat litle whiche remayneth, I can scarse defende from theeues.

Reason.

Thy Bayliffe in the countrey hath taught thee how to take this euyll with pacience, whiche thou must shew also in the cities.

Sorowe.

Theeues doo trouble me.

Reason.

Against this mischiefe complaintes doo not auayle, but punishmentes are needeful: In the meane while, diligent watchynges dooth good, to hym that is circum∣spect. There be some that keepe nothing, & accuse theeues, when as the olde Prouerbe sayth, that occasion maketh a theefe.

Sorow.

Theeues do besiege my entrye.

Reason.

Shut to thy doores, locke them fast, open thyne eyes, and looke about thee, if thou be necligent in so dooyng, then blame thy selfe. A theefe seldome hurteth the circumspect. They may more iustly complayne that haue no houses, such as are certaine people vnder the South and North poles, & therefore among the Scithians. as thou seest, it is written, there is no offence more greeuous then theft. And the rea∣son is this, that if men there myght robbe freely among the woods, what should remaine to the owner?

Sorowe.

Theeues steale my goodes.

Reason.

They would haue them be theirs, and thou forbiddest not, thynke therfore that thy necligence is pu∣nished, and that by this losse thou art taught to keepe thine owne: profitable matters are not taught for naught.

Sorowe.

Theeues doo very muche trouble me.

Reason.

Truely they are an importunate kynde of men, worthyly hated of all that are vertuous, not only as pestilent, but also as vyle persons. And knowe this, that it proceedeth of none other then a great base∣nesse of mynde, that any man is drawen vnto so vyle a wicked∣nesse. And therefore not without good cause Aurelius Alex∣ander, who was a young, but a vertuous Prince, fell so much in hatred of theeues, that as Helius Lampridius writeth of hym, if he had seene any such, he had his fynger redy to plucke out one of his eyes. Suche was his hatred agaynst those that were infamous for Theeuery, that yf by chaunce he sawe any of them, his spirite was so inuaded agaynst them, that immediat∣ly

he was prouoked to vomite out choler, his face being so en∣flamed, that he coulde not speake a woord. Truely a notable dis∣daine of a valiant mind, and a shameful filthinesse in the theeues. whiche was able so sodenly to moue the stomacke of so high and excellent a prynce, vnto lothsomnesse and vomiting. Yea more∣ouer, when as on a tyme, a certayne noble man being accused of theft, at lengh through great fauour of certaine Ringes that were his freendes, had obteyned to be sent foorth to warfaire, and was immediatly taken with theft agayne (for they that are geuen to that vice, through custome are neuer able to leaue it) Alexan∣der demaunded of the kynges which had preferred hym, what pu∣nishment there was for theeues in their countreyes? Whereunto when they answeared, hangyng, he caused hym forthwith by theyr iudgment to be hanged.

Sorowe.

I am molested with thee∣ues.

Reason.

Circumspection and diligent heede takyng, are good remedies agaynst theeues, but the best of al, is pouertie. As long as a man hath any thing that they do lyke of, he can not wel escape their handes, or eyes. Wouldest thou be out of the feare of theeues? be poore then.

Of robberies. The .lxi. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Am spoyled by theeues.

Reason.

Although, as I suppose, it be written in the ciuile lawe, that there is no theefe woorse then he that taketh away a thing by force, yet notwithstanding priuie pilferers be woorse in my opinion: These theeues do woorke by craft, but those by open violence. And therfore after the opinion of Cicero, these are likened to foxes, and those to Lions. And moreouer these theeues do spoyle men of their goods, but they leaue suspicion behinde them: But to be robbed by good felowes suffiseth in a maner, & they leaue no suspicion behinde thē.

Sorow.

I haue fallen into the hands of theeues who haue left me naked.

Reason.

Iulius Caesar fel into the hands of theeues also, by whom he was not onely spoyled, but also taken prisoner, and set at a great raunsome for his delyuerie, euen he that was after∣warde

lorde of al the world: although the reuenge whiche shortly folowed, comforted hym muche in this aduersitie, whiche is no smal aswagement of iniuries. Regulus, that was so often a con∣querour, fel into the hands of his enimies, who put him to a most cruel death, to the great and greeuous losse and daunger of your whole Empire. Likewise Valerianus the Emperour fel within the daunger of his enimies: who, to the great dispargement of the whole Empire, constreyned hym to leade foorth his olde yeeres in most silthy and shameful seruitude. Thou, yf thou be nothyng but robbed, geue thankes to fortune and the theeues that robbed thee, for leauing vnto thee thy lyfe and libertie. For theeues haue no greater benefite, then that which Cicero maketh mention of in his Philippikes, for that they can say they haue geuen them their lyues, from whom they haue not taken them. Take thou therefore this thy fortune in good part, which is common vnto these notable personages, and many other famous men, whiche yf it were compared with theirs, would appeare much more easie, and to be wished, and desire not to be more happie, then they that are called the most happie of al men.

Of Coosinage and deceit. The .lxii. Dialogue.

SOROW.

I Am deceyued by coosiners.

Reason.

Doest thou marueyle at it? I shoulde rather marueyle if by keeping company with men, thou couldest escape vnhurt. For what man is he that deceiueth not another? Trustinesse is bannished, and deceit beareth the soueraintie: and is this the first tyme that thou hast consydered this? Not with so great studie do the hunters lay suares for wylde beastes, nor the foulers set ginnes to take byr∣des, as craftie coosyners seeke meanes to deceyue the simple: Whiche if it were euer true, now is it most true in this your age. A man may poynt with the finger vnto maisters of craft, and he is counted the wysest, that is most cunning in deceyuing. Woul∣dest thou therefore not be deceyued? Dye then, or auoyde the companye of men.

Sorow.

I am craftily circumuented, whereas I neuer feared it.

Reason.

If thou haddest feared

it, perhappes thou haddest not been so easily deceyued: and now think? with thy selfe, whether thou also euer deceyuedst any man. For ye be al of you for the most part prone to deceyue, and rea∣son woulde thou shouldest take that with more indifferencie at another mans handes, whiche thou thy selfe hast done before to another. But you consider not what ye do to others, and cannot abide that which others doo vnto you, so that in al thynges ye be most vniuft iudges.

Sorow.

I haue suffered a losse through the deceite of my freende.

Reason.

Herein, as in many thinges els, thou art abused: for in freendshyp there is no deceit. And in this poynt also ye be commonly deceyued, supposing them to be freendes that are not, and by experiment ye easily fynde, that freendshyp is a most inestimable & holy thing: so ouer curious ye are in trifles, that by once banketting or communing togeather, you get a freende, whom so soone as you haue gotten, ye loose hym, yf that may be called lost whiche you neuer had: And then afterward ye complayne that ye are deceyued by your freen∣des, and bryng this slaunder vpon freendshyp, that is giltlesse of any suche deede.

Sorow.

I am damnified by deceyte.

Reason.

It hath done many good that they haue been decei∣ued, hereafter thou wylt be the waryer: some by the losse of a small thyng, haue auoyded the daunger of greater matters.

Sorowe.

A vyle coosiner hath deceyued me.

Reason.

Nay rather he hath awaked thee, and sharpened thy wyt, and hath taught thee to trust none but suche as thou hast tryed, and persons of credite. I woulde recite examples, whereby to comfort thy heauie chaunce, but that they are innumerable. For who lyueth, and is not deceyued? What euer myscheefe be∣falleth to man, is not so muche as one man suffereth by another: And for that it is not possible nor needeful to recken al, remember the historie of Caninius, in what sort he was once coosined by Py∣tius at Siracuse. Neuerthelesse Caninius hath wherewith to comfort him selfe, for that being a knight of Rome, he was decei∣ued by a stranger that was liuing, when as Augustus Caesar that was Emperour of Rome, was deluded by a meane ritizen that lay a dying. The history is wel knowen, how that a certayne man called Marius, who through the freendship of the same

Augustus had been aduaunced from the base estate of a common souldier vnto great honour and ryches, was woont commonly to geue foorth in speeche, that he would make him only his heire, and leaue al his goodes vnto hym, by whose meanes he had got∣ten al that he had: whiche thing when as in woordes he had assured vnto the Emperour Augustus hym selfe, the day before he dyed, he gaue vp his deceitful ghost, and at the length it was found, howe that in al his wyl he had not once made mention of the Emperours name. Truely he wel deserued to haue his dissem∣blyng carckase drawen with an hooke into the ryuer. Tiber, who at his very death was not afeard to deceyue his cheefe lorde and benefactour.

Of a streight and narow dwelling. The .lxiii. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Owel to straightly.

Reason.

A narrowe house is profitable for many thinges, and amongst other matters it is good a∣gaynst theeues, wherof thou complainedst erewhyle, for that they can fynde no lurkyng corners in it, as the contrary may be verified of large houses, that they deceyue their owner, and are conuenient for theeues. I take an house to be litle or large accor∣ding to the number of the inhabitantes, and thou seemest now to thy selfe to dwel in to litle an house. But how muche more nar∣rowly doth thy soule dwel, and howe muche more filchily among blood and matter, and other loathsome substance? and yet yf thou myghtest haue thy wyl, thou wouldest neuer haue hym depart from thence.

Sorowe.

My house is narrowe.

Reason.

The house of claye doth not pynche the heauenly soule with the nar∣rownesse thereof: many tymes a lytle house hath been capable of great glory, when as in the meane tyme a great house hath been replenished with great infamie. The house conformeth not the minde, but the minde conformeth the house: and therefore as the blinde cottagies of the poore may be merry and vertuous, so may the castles of princes, and palaces of the ryche, be sorow∣ful and dishonest. There is no house so narrow, but the greatnesse of the tenant maketh it larger, and meete to receyue a great ghest.

Sorowe.

My house is litle.

Reason.

Kyng

Enanders litle palace receyued great Hercules: Iulius Caesar that was afterwarde lorde of al the worlde, was borne in a sim∣ple tenement: Romulus and Remus, that were the first founders of so great a citie, were brought vp in a shepheards cottage: Cato dwelled in no sumptuous house: Diogenes soiourned in a rouling tub: and Hilarion vnder a simple shead: the holy fathers lead their lyues in caues vnder the ground: and great Philosophers in litle gardeins: mightie captaynes haue lyen in the open ayre, and vnder poore tentes: but Caius and Nero dwelled in gorge∣ous pallaces: chose thee nowe with whiche of these thou haddest leeuest dwel.

Sorow.

I haue a narowe, and homely, and euil-fauoured house.

Reason.

The walles are able to keepe out theeues and the wynde, and the tediousnesse of the people, which is woorse then any of them both, the roofe, colde and heat, sunneshyne and rayne: as for the loftie towres, they are dwellinges for foules of the ayre, a large house serueth for pride, a beautiful house for las∣ciuiousnesse, a stoared house for couetousnesse, but vertue thin∣keth scorne of no habitation, vnlesse it be possessed with vices.

Sorow.

I dwell very narrowly.

Reason.

Wouldest thou that any house may seeme very large vnto thee? Then thinke vpon the narrownesse of thy graue.

Of a prison. The .lxiiii. Dialogue.

SOROW.

I Am shut vp in an vnwoorthy pryson.

Reason.

Better is an vnwoorthy prison, then vnwoorthy libertie, and muche more better it is for a man vndeseruedly to suffer aduersitie for righ∣teousnesse sake, then through wickednesse to abound in pros∣peritie, although those ought not to be tearmed euilles neyther, nor these goodes, but I speake as the common people speaketh, who iudge payne to be the greatest euyl, and pleasure the greatest good thing.

Sorow.

I am shut vp in prison.

Reason.

Who is not shut vp in prison? or who departeth out of prison, but when he dyeth? This is thy destinye, and the common destiny of al men: why then should you commence peculier or newe complayntes.

For knowe this, since the first day thou wast borne, yea and before thou wast borne to, thou wast inclosed in prison, and hampered with fetters, by his commaundement vnto whom al the compasse of heauen is a litle house: and yf we wyl also beleeue the grea∣test Poet, euen in a darke and blynd pryson. The ende of whiche pryson, yf thou desire to be plausible and fortunate, thou shalt not abhorre the narrownesse thereof, neyther punishmentes, nor death, nor what soeuer may befall vnto man, vnto the pacient tollerating and contempt whereof, vnlesse the mynde be prepa∣red and armed at al poyntes in whatsoeuer fortune, he wandreth in a verie perilous path.

Sorowe.

I am shut vp in a filthy and narrowe prison.

Reason.

There is no pryson more filthy, none narrower then this pryson of the body, wherein thou takest so great delight, and from whiche thou fearest so muche to be dissolued.

Sorowe.

I am deteyned in an inconuenient pryson.

Reason.

Pryson hath delyuered many from instant daunger, and the handes of their enimies. Vnto many the very entry of their pryson hath stand in steade of a shielde, and that whiche was profitable vnto them at their entryng in, hath been hurtfull vnto them at their goyng out: insomuche that beyng cer∣tified by the departure, they haue confessed that to be profitable whiche they abhorred, and that to be miserable whiche they wysh∣ed.

Sorow.

I am holden in pryson.

Reason.

Howe knowest thou whether perhappes it be a pryson, or rather, as it is sayde, a place of safe keeping? Howe often hath eyther the enimies swoorde, or pouertie more cruel then any foe, consumed those that haue been loosed from pryson? Howe often haue they re∣pented of their escaping? and their imprisonment, which they complayned to be long, haue they afterwarde lamented that it was not perpetuall: we haue seene some that haue lyued in pryson sumptuously, but so soone as they haue been set at libertie, they haue finished their poore and wretched lyfe with a sorowful ende.

Sorowe.

I leade a miserable lyfe in pryson.

Reason.

Some haue written bookes in pryson, but thou framest complayntes there. Some haue learned good faculties in bandes, but thou learnest to forget pacience.

Sorowe.

I am kept fast in pryson.

Reason.

Some

within caues and dennes, and some haue enclosed them selues within the circuit of walles, choosing vnto them selues volunta∣rie imprisonment, eyther for the loue of God, or for hatred of the worlde, or for loathsomnesse of the common multitude, as dyd many holy fathers in the primitiue Churche. Thou, yf thou be not disposed that way, & desirest an end of thyne imprysonmēt, stay a while, eyther man wyl discharge thee, or els death, whiche caryeth a key of the pryson doore. There is one manner of en∣trance, but sundry sortes of departyng. Some haue been let goe vpon pitie, some by the course of lawe, some through their owne innocencie, some by negligence of the keepers, some for money, some by craft, some by breaking prison, or vndermining the walles, and some haue escaped out of pryson by the freendly darkenesse of the nyght, and also since the memory of your fa∣thers, some haue been set at libertie by earthquakes, and ouer∣throwing of the pryson: and last of al, they that coulde finde none other meanes, haue been released from imprisonment by death. And lykewyse no lesse dyuers haue been the euentes of them that haue escaped. Marius delyuerie from pryson, brought hym to the Consulshyp: Iulius Caesars imprisonment among the pyrates, transported hym to the Empire of the worlde. In this age certayne haue passed from pryson to lordshyps, and the cheynes whiche they haue shaken from them selues, they haue layde vpon other. Finally Regulus, and Socrates, and many moe were not extinguished in prison, as it was thaught, but rather by an honorable ende discharged out of pryson. To conclude, the pry∣son hath sent some vnto great glory, some vnto notable fortune, some to a kyngdome, and many to heauen, but al to the graue, for it neuer receyued any whom it hath not agayne restored.

Of Tormentes. The .lxv. Dialogue.

SOROW.

I Am vniustly tormented.

Reason.

What wouldest thou nowe say if it were iustly? For there is no torment greater then the torment of the conscience. If this be vpryght, contemne these outwarde thinges, for thou hast a comforter within thee.

Sorowe.

I am tormented very vnwoorthily.

Reason.

Take com∣passion vpon thy tormentour, he is more sharpely tormented then

thou: for although the world crye out agaynst thee, yet know this, that it is a lesse euil to suffer, then to offer an imurie.

Sorowe.

I am tormented.

Reason.

A newe lamentation for an olde greefe: wast thou neuer tormented before: Among tormentes thou wast borne, among tormentes thou hast lyued, & among tor∣mentes thou shalt dye: tell me now what newe thing is befal∣len thee? The kindes of tormentes are changed, but the tormentes them selues do not surceasse. Examine the whole course of thy forepassed life, & recount what euer day thou passedst ouer with∣out torment. Perhaps thou mayst finde somthinges shadowed with false ioyes, but al thinges full of true tormentes, wherof if thou iudge exactly, thou wilt confesse that there is no part of this life voyde. Wherby it commeth to passe, that some, not without iust cause, haue supposed this whole life to be a continual punish∣ment. But you neuerthelesse so demeane your selues, as though these Philosophical speeches concerned you not, they sticke in the enterance of your eares, they pearce not into the closet of your mindes: So that ye lament for euery small griefe of the bodie, but as for the euerlastyng and deadly punishment of the minde, ye do not feele it: in the first ye are impacient, but in the other without sense.

Sorow.

I am layde vpon the wheele.

Reason.

What skilleth it whether thou goe vp to the wheele, or to the bed to be tormented? The tormentours knot shal wring thee, and put thee to payne: but heare now one with the ague, another with the gout, another with a shrewysh wyfe, another with his sonne, another with his louer, another with his ryches, another with po∣uertie, another by the Phisitions hand, another with the schoole∣maisters ferula, another with a naughtie seruaunt, another with a proude lorde, another is vexed with an infinite hope and coue∣tous desire, another with feare, that is more greeuous then any tormentour. Search through the whole state of mankynde, and thou shalt scarse finde one man that lyeth not vpon the wheele: and beyng a thousand sundry sortes of tortures, doo you feare none but those that are made of wood?

Sorowe.

I am tor∣mented.

Reason.

In the middest of thy tormentes comfort thy selfe, eyther with thyne innocencie, or with iustice: for if thou be vniustly tormented, thou hast a cause to reioyce, whereby thou

hast purchased experience to thy selfe and others, and also a cer∣tayne bryghtnesse is added vnto thy vertue: the fame of hand∣led and aduaunced thynges is more renowmed, and spices the longer they be beaten the sweeter they smell, and most excellent wares are set a loft to the viewe, that they may be seene the better. But yf thou be tormented deseruedly, thou hast thy remedye in thy handes: but clottered fylth is purged by fyre and difficultie, and a desperate sicknesse muste haue a sharpe cure: who so is weery of his disease, wyl not refuse any bytter thyng, and he that is sory for his synnes, wyll not eschewe any punishment.

Sorow.

I am laide on the racke.

Reason.

If without desart, thou hast a meane to despise the crueltie of another from an hygh: But yf deseruedly, when thou art plucked from the earth, thou mayst the more euidently beholde thyne offence, and that which thou art now sorowful for the committyng, thou shalt not be grieued for the sufferyng of the punyshment.

Sorow.

I am tormen∣ted.

Reason.

Eyther thy vertue is tryed, or thy vyce pu∣nyshed: the one is often profitable, the other alwayes expe∣dient. It is a good tryall for the ryghteous to suffer punysh∣ment, but there is nothyng woorse then to suffer the gyltie to es∣cape vnpunished.

Sorowe.

I am tormented.

Reason.

Learne the way vnto patience, and death.

Of vniust iudgement. The .Lxvj. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I AM condemned by vniust iudgement.

Reason.

There haue been some ere nowe condemned by the sentence of one iudge, or by the testimonie of a fewe witnesses, who haue ben often tymes acquitted eyther by the voice of the common peo∣ple, or by theyr secrete iudgement, or, whiche is better, by theyr owne conscience, or whiche is best of al, by Gods owne iudge∣ment. For the best appealyng is vnto the eternall iudgement seate of the most iust and hygh iudge: and he it is that vseth to reuerse the false iudgementes of other by a wrytte of errour.

Sorowe.

I am condemned vniustly.

Reason.

As the vn∣ryghteous

are ouerthrowen by iustice, so are the ryghteous by iniurie. Then, whereas is vniust condempnation, there the partie condempned is innocent: and there is no man so foolysh, vnlesse he were starke mad, that would haue this be contrarie, and had ra∣ther be condemned iustly then vniustly. There is none so feareful, vnlesse he be too bad, but had rather be condemned by an vnrigh∣teous doome, then acquitted. Whiche is by so much the better, by how much oppressed iustice is better then reigning vngodlinesse, and a good minde to be preferred before good fortune, although the one abounde with payne, the other with pleasure: Yea, I wyll say more, by so much the better it is to be iustly condemned, then vniustly cleered, as it is woorse to let a crime escape vnpunished, then to punysh it. For in this there is wickednesse ioyned with iustice, a great good thing with a great euyl: in the other, wicked∣nesse matched with impunitie, whiche I knowe not whether it be woorse then the wickednesse it selfe, for truely it is the very eni∣mie of iustice, and the roote of many mischiefes.

Sorowe.

I am greeued with a most vniust iudgement.

Reason.

A minde that is founded vppon a sure grounde, and gouerned by an vp∣ryght conscience, hath inuincible shoulders: whereuppon what∣soeuer mischiefe be heaped, infamie or punishment, it wyll yeelde to no burden, but standeth vpryght by it owne strength, but spe∣tially sustayned by the assistaunce of GOD. There be some also with whose companie, in this respect, it may comfort it selfe, for lyke euent, companions not to be despised. At Rome Furius Camillus, and Liuius Salinator: at Athens Aristides and Melciades, with many other moe, among whom, whereat thou mayest marueyle, are Cicero and Socrates. Tel me now, whether thou haddest rather be lyke one of these, or be suche a fellowe as Publius Claudius was? There was none of al these, but he was a very good Citizen, & famous in the Common wealth where he dwelt, & yet they were condemned in iudgement, and eyther sence into banishment, or thrust into prison, or haled to death. But that most wicked varlet, who, amongst many other notable crimes, was conuicted of notorius whooredome, & for a bringer in of cor∣rupt religion, was by the general consent of al the Iudges acqui∣ted. Now, is there any man that standeth so much in feare of false

infamie, that wyll not rather preferre the condemnation and banyshment of his enimie Cicero, before his vniust acquiting? But these are humane and common matters. If thou cast thy eyes vp higher, thou shalt see the King of Heauen hym selfe, with his most dearely beloued retinue, who walked in the steppes of their so excellent a captayne, ouerborne with false iudgement: and as many also as afterwarde folowed hym, who beyng of so great innocencie and vertue as they were, yet fel they into the whirle∣poole and rockes of the same most corrupt sentence.

Sorowe.

I am offended at false iudgement.

Reason.

There is one that shall iudge thee, euen he that ministreth ryght to them that suffer iniurie, who also sayth, Reuenge is myne, and I wyl repay it. He also, where thou thinkest not, dwelleth within the hart of the Iudge and witnesse, where also soiourne great reuengers: for there is noe beaste that biteth so sharply, as doth a mans owne conscience.

Sorowe.

I am hurt by an vniust iudgement.

Reason.

To vse well offered iniuries, is no small discretion, by meanes whereof another mans wickednesse hath often profited an heedeful person, whereas euery mans vnrighteousnes alwayes hurteth him selfe, and neuer doth him good.

Sorow.

I am condemned vniustly.

Reason.

Haddest thou rather then be iustly condemned? For so did Socrates when he was a dying answere his wife Xantippa, when as she womanishly lamented that he should die an innocent. And although some be of a contrary opinion, yet is it farre better to be condemned without desart, then gyltie: For, in the one, the punishment only is greeuous: in the other, the cause of the punish∣ment only is greeuous: in the other, the cause of the punish∣ment also.

Sorow.

I am condemned by the vntust iudgement of the people.

Reason.

Lookest thou that the people should see that to be good in thee, which they could neuer see in them selues, nor in any other? It is a great argument of thine innocencie, that thou art condemned of y^t wicked.

Sorow.

The people condemne me vndeseruedly.

Reason.

The same people also condemned, not him that had deserued nothing, but y^t had deserued excellently wel, Canullus of whō I spake erwhile, & also Liuius himselfe, & more∣ouer Scipio surnamed Africanus, & the other Cornelij, with such like, being men of so great honour, whō they molested in such sort, that they draue thē into voluntary exile.

Sorow.

I am innocently

condemned by the kyng.

Reason.

And the determinations of Princes for the most part, are more tastyng of reuenge, then of iustice: For whosoeuer shall happen to speake any thyng freely agaynst the licentiousnesse of kinges, and seeme to take in yll part the losse of the subiectes libertie, he is by and by accused of treason.

Sorowe.

But I am condemned by the Iudges.

Reason.

There is no lyuyng creature more venen: ous, then an vniust Iudge. When men are hurt by a Serpent, they are sorie, but they doo not complayne: for the Serpent dyd but that which was his kynd, although not that whiche was pleasaunt to the suf∣ferer. Truly they were Iudges, who condemned those and also Socrates. of whom I spake erwhyle, and acquitted Clodius: of whom and them whiche was the most vnryghteous, it may be doubted. And therefore suche people as are gouerned by Kynges and Iudges, ought to propose with them selues in their mynde, to endure whatsoeuer hard fortune and iniuries shall happen vn∣to them, and not to lament for them when they are once hapned.

Of Banishment. The .Lxvij. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Am vniustly dryuen into vanyshment.

Reason.

What, haddest thou rather then be iustly banyshed? For, as touching the heape of iniuries whereof thou spakest, it is taken in the contrarie part: and nowe thou hast iustice to be thy compani∣on, whiche shall be a comfort vnto thee in thy vniust banyshment, whiche forsakyng thine vniust Countreymen, hath chosen rather to folowe thee into exile.

Sorowe.

I am banyshed vniustly.

Reason.

Hath the kyng banyshed thee, or a tyraunt, or the peo∣ple, or an enimie, or thou thy selfe? If the kyng, eyther thy ba∣nyshment is not vniust, or he hymselfe is not iust, and so by con∣sequence, no kyng. If a Tyrant, reioyce that thou art banyshed by hym, vnder whom good men are exiled, and Theeues are set in aucthoritie. If the people, they vse their olde maner, they hate the vertuous, among whom if this manie headed Tyrant had founde any lyke them selues, they woulde neuer haue banyshed hym. Thynke not therefore that thou art expulsed thy Countrey, but

remooued from the felloweship of wicked persons, and that thou art not driuen into exile, but receiued into the companie of good Citizens. If an enimie, acknowledge the lightnes of the iniurie, for he hath not dealt extreamely with thee: He that coulde take from a man all that he hath, and hath taken but his Countrey, hath left hym hope. But yf thou thy selfe, the cause is, that falling into mislykyng of the people or Tyrant, thou hast chosen to de∣part, not only because thou wouldest not be sorie, but also vaunte thy selfe for preferryng the honour of thy Countrey. So that now thou hast not a miserable, but an honest cause, not of exile, but of absence, hatefull to the wycked, and gratefull to the vertuous. Pythagoras voluntarily forsooke Samos, and Solon Athens, and Lycurgus Lacedemon, and Scipio Rome.

Sorowe.

I am condemned vnto exile.

Reason.

Many haue wonne cre∣dite by theyr banishment, not fewe there are whom some sharpe storme and iniurie of fortune hath made knowne and notable: and what letteth thee, but that thou mayest be reckoned in the num∣ber of them who haue gayned singuler fame by sufferyng trou∣bles, euen as by knocking Flintes together, fire is engendred?

Sorowe.

I am driuen into exile.

Reason.

In histories thou shalt perceiue that thou hast notable companions in this accident, whose most honourable felowshyp may not only deminish the fee∣ling of the griefe, but also bring forgetfulnesse. Camillus was no lesse regarded in his banishment, then if he had taried at home, as famous an exiled person, as he was woorthie Citizen, who had brought into the Capital house of Rome victories and triumphes, no lesse renowmed for iustice, then famous for felicitie, and being shortly after driuen into banishment, in reuenge of the iniurie whiche he receiued, he saued his vnthankfull Countrey from destruction. It is not easie, I confesse, to finde suche another example of so notable a banished personage: howbeit Rutilius and Metellus were so smally greeued with their banishment, that when Rutilius was sent for home, by hym whose commaunde∣ment not to obey was present death, rather choosing banishment, he refused to returne: eyther to the entent he would not in any re∣spect disobey the Senates decree and the lawes of his Countrey, though they were vniust, or els for doubt he might haply be bani∣shed

agayne. But Metellus returned, with the very same coun∣tenaunce wherewith he departed into exile. Vnto these may Marcellus be added, euen the same younger Marcellus that hap∣ned in the tyme of the last ciuile warre, who beyng dryuen out of his countrey, reteined not only his auncient constancie and studie of liberall sciences, but also applied them more earnestly then be∣fore, and beyng free from publique cares, with such feruencie pur∣sued the beautifying of his minde onely, that he seemed rather to haue been sent to the schooles of Vertue, then into banishment: which being much more eminent in Cicero, was by the woorthy∣nesse of his woorkes, and his great learning, made the more fa∣mous, whereby he found no smal comfort, not only in banishment, but also in pryson.

Sorow.

I suffer banishment.

Reason.

A short banishment wyll soone restore thee to thy Countrey, but a long banishment wil purchase thee another Countrey, so that they shal be banished from thee, that woulde haue banished thee from them, which is now alredy accomplished, yf thou haue respect to the nature of the thinges, and not to the opinions of men. For that is a very base minde that is so bounde to one sillie corner of the earth, that whatsoeuer is out of that, it thinketh it banishment: whoso bewayleth his exile, is farre from that loftinesse of mynde whiche was in hym vnto whom the whole worlde seemed to be a strayght prison. Socrates beyng demaunded what Countreyman he was, answeared, I was borne in the world. A ryght Socratical answere: some other peraduenture in that case woulde haue an∣sweared that he was an Athenian, but Socrates Countrey was that which is lykewyse all mens, to wit, the worlde, not only this part which you commonly cal the worlde, whiche in deede is but the lowest part of the worlde, but Heauen it selfe, which is more truely tearmed by that name. That is the Countrey whervnto you are appoynted, vnto whiche if your minde doo aspire, it wyll ac∣knowledge it selfe to be a stranger and banished in whatsoeuer part of the earth it remayne: For who wyl call that his Countrey, where he dwelleth but for a very short tyme? But that is truely to be called a mans Countrey, where he may dwell continually in rest and quietnesse: seeke for this vppon earth, and I suppose thy seeking wil be in vaine. According to the law of nature, as it was

geuen vnto men, and the limittes thereof prescribed, whilest you liue here, euery lande is your Countrey, wherein whoso maketh himselfe a banished man, is not so sicke in effect, as diseased in minde. We haue not here any perpetual Citie of abode, as sayth the Apostle S. Paul. Euery land is the natiue Countrey vnto a vali∣ent man, sayth Ouid the Poet. To a man, euery Countrey is his na∣tural soyle, sayth Statius. With these speeches I would haue thee armed, whereby thou mightest be alwayes one man, and eyther neuer or euer be in thine owne Countrey.

Sorowe.

I am com∣maunded to go into banishment.

Reason.

Goe willingly, & then it shall be but a trauayle, and no banishment: and remember that banishment hath ben vnto some in steede of a departure, and vnto other some, in steede of a returne: and there be some also that are neuer in woorse case, then when they be in their owne Countrey.

Sorow.

I am enforcedly dryuen into banishment.

Reason.

In couetyng to do that which thou art enforced, thou shalt seeme not to be constrayned. All violence is ouercome by patience, and that surceaseth to be violence, whiche is suffered willingly.

Sorowe.

I must needes goe into exile.

Reason.

See thou do willing∣ly, which thou must els do nillingly, and suffer al thyng meryly, that thou seeme to suffer nothyng heauily: so shalt thou escape the force of necessitie, and al the Adamantine nayles & chaines that are ascribed thervnto, and the loathsomnesse and vexation thereof. But you couet impossible thinges, and flee from the necessarie, but both in vayne.

Sorow.

I goe into banishment.

Reason.

Perhaps into rest, and peraduenture vnder pretence of false mi∣serie, lurketh true felicitie, at leastwise thou shalt now be safe from enuie: make haste, and take holdfast of glory that is entermedled with securitie. There is nothyng sweeter then honest and safe lurkyng, with whiche no streetes of Cities are comparable.

Sorowe.

I am dryuen out of my Countrey.

Reason.

Beyng dryuen away of the woorst, insinuate thy selfe into the companie of the best sorte, and make it euident by good proofes that thy Countrey was vnwoorthie of thee, and not thou of thy Countrey. Let it perceyue what it hath lost, and knowe thou howe that thou hast lost no∣thyng: Let the euyll Citizens want the weerisomnesse, and

also the hatred and suspicion of thy presence, and let the good pro∣secute thine absence with loue and desire, and with their eyes and mindes folow after thy departure: Let them be sorie for that thou hast forsaken them, and be thou gladde for that thou art departed with companie, and thinke not vpon thy returne, neither desire to be with them that desire to be without thee, and finally be not so∣rie that another hath done that vnto thee, whiche thou oughtest to haue done thy selfe: thou oughtest to haue geuen place to the enuie of the people, and therefore to auoyde the same, thou willingly wentest into exile. Of this deuice I was the first aucthour, neither are there wanting most famous ringleaders for an example, for thou knowest howe that the three most remowmed Scipioes dyd the lyke, and that with suche constancie, that some iudged theyr Countrey, whiche was dispoyled of their presence, then whiche it had nothing in it more honourable, to be vnwoorthy of their ashes when they were dead: and some likewyse thought that the Citie deserued to be girded with some infamous and taunting Li∣bel: howbeit their names remaine in euerlastyng memorie, so that they cannot be vnknowen to thee by report, and the faythfull testimonie of all histories, whose names are, Africanus, Nasica, Lentulus.

Sorowe.

I am sent into exile.

Reason.

Nay ra∣ther to trie thyselfe. Beware how thou behaue thyselfe in thine ex∣ile, yf thou faynt, then art thou a very banyshed wyght, yf thou stand stoutly, thy banyshment wyll ennoble thee, as it hath doone many other before thee, who passed inuincibly and honourably through difficulties, to the ende they might shew the right way to them that came after. Let Tyrantes rage, let the people chafe, let thyne enimies and fortune treat & fume: thou mayest be dryuen a∣way, taken, beaten, slayne, but thou canst not be ouercome, vnlesse thou yeelde vp thyne handes, nor yet be despoyled of thyne orna∣mentes, by meanes whereof whythersoeuer thou goest, thou shalt be a Citizen, and one of the Princes of thy Countrey.

Sorowe.

I goe into banishment.

Reason.

Goe a pace, and depart in safetie, thou knowest not howlong thy kinges armes be: there is no place too far of from hym, he can defende thee in euery place, who defended thee in thy natiue Countrey.

Of a mans country besiged. The .lxviii. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

MY countrey is besieged.

Reason.

Troy was besieged, syrus besieged, Carthage besieged, Hierusalem besie∣ged, Numancia besieged, Corinthus besieged, and all of them ouerthrowen, who then neede to be ashamed of be∣sieging? Yea, the citie of Rome it selfe was besieged, but at what tyme it had surceased to be Rome in deede. What shal I speake of Capua, of Tarentum, of Siracuse, of Athens, of the Vehij, and other petie cities and countreys? Cities haue also their pe∣culiar destinies, and fewe there are that haue escaped the destinie of besieging. But continuance of tyme is suche an hinderance to the knowledge of thinges, that the citizens them selues are ig∣norant of the chaunces that haue befallen to their owne cities: thou feelest the presente besieging, but canst not foresee that whiche is to come, nor remember that whiche is past: for this is your maner, ye alwayes bewaile that whiche presently aflicteth you ye are marueylously addicted to your senses, after the man∣ner of brute beastes.

Sorowe.

I am besieged in my countrey.

Reason.

I tolde thee thou bewailedst thy discommoditie, nowe might banishment seeme to be a wished thing, for that it is lesse hurtfull to libertie, howbeit neyther of them both is hurtful: for yf the libertie of the minde be true libertie, though he be shut in, yet can he get foorth, and though he be shut out, yet can he get in, and be wheresoeuer it please hym.

Sorowe.

I am besieged in my countrey.

Reason.

Priamus also, who was no subiecte, but a king, was besieged in his owne countrey, with al that his more famous then fortunate family. Antigonus Kyng of Macedonia was besieged at Argos, and Eumenes kyng of Pergamos. In this age Robertus kyng of Cicile was besieged within the citie of Ianua, who was nothing inferiour to any of the auncient kin∣ges, if so be true vertue maketh true kynges respected: and doest thou poore wretche lament for the case of Kynges and Prin∣ces? Saint Ambrose, and Saint Augustine were besieged both of them within the compasse of Millane. And lastly, the same Saint Augustine was besieged within the walles of his owne byshoppricke: at what time God takyng compassion on his

teares, transported hym from the earthly besieging, vnto the kyngdome of heauen.

Sorow.

I am besieged.

Reason.

And who, I pray thee, is not besieged? Some are besieged with sinne, some with sickenesse, some with enimies, some with cares, some with businesse, some with idlenesse, some with ryches, some with pouertie, some with infamie, & some with ouertedious renowne. Yea, this body whiche ye loue and make so muche of, as a most streight pryson, compasseth about and besiegeth euery one of you with a perpetual besieging. The whole worlde and circuit of the earth, wherein ye chafe and keepe a sturre, and continually runne foorth lyke mad men to warre, wherein ye enlarge the boundes of your Empires and kyngdomes with so great ambition, so muche of it as you inhabite, what is it other, as Cicero sayth, then in a manner a certayne smal Ilād, compassed about with that sea whiche vpon earth is called the Great, the Ocean, the Atlan∣ticum sea, whiche being so great in name, yet howe small in∣deede it is, thou seest. Ye are al of you besieged on euery side, & doest thou complayne that thou art besieged, as yf it were some newe matter? Prouide rather that asmuch as in thee lyeth, what through thy strength and counsel, thou procure meanes for thy countreies safetie. Do this rather of the twayne, and thinke vpon Siracusian Archimedes, that industrious olde man: as for com∣playntes, wyl neyther do thee, nor thy countrey good.

Sorow.

I am besieged within myne owne countrey.

Reason.

Had∣dest thou rather then be besieged in an other place? I confesse truely that thou haddest rather so, and that more duetifully, to wit, that thou being elswhere besieged, thy countrey myght be free. But as touchyng thy selfe, seemeth it vnto thee a smal 〈◊〉〈◊〉 comfort to abide whatsoeuer shal happen within thine owne countrey, that the place may aswage, asmuch as the aduersitie greeueth?

Sorowe.

I am pent vp within the walles of my countrey.

Reason.

Thou speakest this, as though there were no grea∣ter narrownesse or penning vp then within walles. Howe ma∣ny of those that dwel in cities do so ordinarily frequent the court and places of iudgement, that scarse so long as the whole yeere lasteth, they once beholde the citie gates? But geue this once the name of besieging, then wyl they long to issue foorth, and

thinke them selues shacled in most streight fetters, whiche effect is not wrought by the besieging, but by opinion, then whiche there is nothing of greater force in y^e wauering of this your mor∣tal lyfe. This place requireth that I resite a fable. It is reported, that at Aretium there was of late dayes a very olde man, that neuer had trauayled out of the boundes of his countrey: the fame whereof being brought vnto the eares of the gouernours, for pas∣time sake they called the olde man before them, saying that by good proofe they had founde that he vsed secretly to depart out of the citie, and to haue priuie conference with theyr enimies. Then beganne he to sweare by al the saintes, that not onely not at that tyme of the warres, but not so muche as in the tyme of peace did he euer passe without the walles of the citie, from his byrth vnto that present houre. But they on the other side feigned that they beleeued hym not, saying that they muche suspected his fidelitie towardes the common wealth: To be short, they cōmaunded him vpon a great penaltie not to passe out of the citie gates. Howbe∣it, they say, that he was in suche sort prouoked by the impaciencie of his forbidding, that the very next day folowyng, whiche was neuer seene before, he was taken without the walles of the citie. Thus though the pryde & stubbernesse of your mind, ye are alwayes carryed away vnto that whiche is forbidden. And nowe thou complaynest that thou art shut vp, and the whole citie is not bygge enough for thee, whom peraduenture some litle corner thereof, perhappes some one house, might suffise, yf thou were not besieged, as for the most part it hapneth vnto studentes. Moreouer, it fortuneth that al besieginges be but of short continuance. Ye haue comfort ministred vnto you both by the place and tyme, only ye lacke vprightnes of minde, which causeth you to lament and complaine, which runneth not by the nature of the thinges, but through your owne effeminatenesse.

Of a mans countrey destroyed. The lxix. Dialogue.

SOROW.

BVt what sayest thou to this, that my country is vtterly des∣troyed?

Reason.

Diddest thou not heare the fortune of

cities and countreyes which I named not long since, and the lyke also in other without number? Alexande•• kyng of Macedonie ouerthrewe Tirus, and Thebes, and Persipolis the chiefe citie of the Persian kyngdome, and that thou mayst marueyle the more, at the suggestion of one harlot: a great citie dependeth but vpon a tickle fortune. Agamemnon rased Troy, Hanibal Saguntum, Scipio the younger Carthage and Numancia, Titus Hieru∣salem, and lykewise other, others. Rome none wholy ouerthrew, but olde age battered it, beyng ayded by the ciuile dissenti∣ons. And what maketh matter who ouerthrewe it, for asmuch as we see it is ouerthrowen? The fame of the destruction of Millane is of later time, vnder Frederike, a barbarous and cruel emperour: & diddest thou thinke that thy countrey was priuiledged from the iurisdiction of fortune, vnto whom great cities and mightie king∣domes are subiect? Hath loue so blinded thee, that thou shouldest imagine one citie, because thou wast borne in it, to be immortall, when as the whole world it selfe is transitorie? Heauen and earth shal fayle, the mountaynes and seas shalbe mooued, and al thinges that were made of nothing, shal returne to nothing agayne: doest thou then woonder or complaine that thy countrey is come to nought? Cities aswel as men, as I noted a litle before, haue their dying dayes, but they chaunce not so often as they do to men, for that there are fewer cities, and they be of longer continuaunce, notwithstandyng subiect to death: for not men onely, but all other worldly thynges also are mortal, the soule of man onely excepted.

Sorow.

My countrey is fallen.

Reason.

Perhappes it may ryse agayne: for some are rysen agayne that haue fallen, and the fallyng of some hath been the occasion of their more fortunate rysing. For Saguntum and Millaine stande at this day in their auncient places: but the next neyghbout citie vnto Millaine, whiche was the last of Pompeius com∣mendation, chaunged place, as some say, by the same varbarous handes, and was destroyed about the same tyme: and so like∣wyse were Hierusalem and Carthage. Liue therefore in hope: but yf thy hope fayle thee, and thou seppose thy countrey be de∣stroyed, beware least thou also fayle and faint vnder fortune: For woorse is the ouerthrowing of mindes, then of walles. A

man ought to shew a manly courage, and not an effeminate mind: and although thou be sorye for thy countreyes ouerthrowe, do not thou semblably perysh with it, seeing that thy ruine wil nothing a∣uayle the common wealth: but rather endeuour to reserue thy selfe & the residue of thy country folke, if there be any remaining, vnto some more fortunate tyme: in this case deedes are more needefull then lamentations, where also flight it selfe is com∣mendable. Thou hast heard, howe that vnto Terentius Varro, through whose fault and rashnesse the whole Empire of Rome was almost ouerthrowen, thankes were commonly yeelded of al fortes of the people, for that he dispayred not of the common wealth, which his college or felow officer, a most noble gentle∣man who was in no part of the fault, seemed to doo. But if there be nothing els remayning, at the leastwyse with Bias carie thou al thy goodes with thee, although thou depart starke naked out of the walles of thy peryshing countrey: and hencefoorth seeke after that countrey whose kyngdome shal haue none ende. Wher∣vnto when as at last by the callyng of God thou art once ascen∣ded, thou shalt no more feare beseeging, nor destruction, nor any of those thinges which are commonly dreaded in your cities.

Of the feare of loosing in warre. The .lxx. Dialogue.

FEARE

I Feare to loose in war.

Reason.

Then seeke for peace.

Feare.

I very muche dread ouercomming.

Reason.

A mo∣derate feare procureth heedefulnesse, but that whiche is vehe∣ment engendreth desperation, then the one of which there is nothing better in war, and nothing woorse then the other in all thinges.

Feare.

I am shaken with great feare of battayle.

Reason.

What mischeefe feare bryngeth vnto them that are readie to fight, and also heauinesse, whiche proceedeth of feare, Flaminius at Thrasumenus, Craslus at Carras, and Pompe∣ius in Thessalia, haue prooued, in which places and often els∣where, that saying of the Poet hath appeared to true, Feare is an ••nluckie south sayer in matters of experience.

Feare.

I stande

in great feare of the euent of battaile.

Reason.

Delay then the tyme vntyl hope may come: it is yll to goe forwarde in that from whiche the minde and dread do will to absteyne. There is com∣monly in the minde a certayne foreseeing facultie, contrarie to the motion whereof I would in no respect perhappes geue thee counsel to attempt any thing. The examples that myght be al∣leaged in this case, aswel new as olde, are without number, wher∣of it sufficeth me to haue cited three onely of the most notable.

Feare.

I feare the euent of the instant battayle.

Reason.

Shake of thy timoriousnesse, which none knoweth better then thou thy selfe: take heede that it be not the nature of the thing, or the want of power, but rather cowardice that imagineth this abodyng of euyll successe, vnto whom there is nothing not fear∣full and difficult. Wherefore if the same be burtfull to thy glory, yf to thy safetye, by the assistance of vertue it must be re∣pressed, and the minde awakened, to whom it must be decla∣red, that oftentymes the dangers are far fewer and lyghter then the feare, and that many tymes false fancies of terrible matters doo flye before the eyes, wherewith some haue been in suche sort dismayed, that they haue yeelded vp the victorie to theyr enimies, whiche they themselues had alredie wun with their weapons. For false and vayne feare, is nothing slower then true feare, but in this respect many tymes the more vehement, by howe muche the errour of them that are afrayde, imagi∣nyng al thynges to be greater them they are in deede, dryueth them foorth headlong with sharper vehemencie: and thus as the same Poet sayth, Hastinesse euylly gouerneth al thynges. But yf with none of these neyther, thou canst lyft vp thy drou∣ping minde, but fearefulnesse ouercomme thy valiencie, keepe thee out of the fielde: it is seldome well done that is feareful∣ly done. If thou goe thus affected into the batrayle, there shalbe one within thee that wyll fyght agaynst thee, for the bet∣ter part of thy selfe rebelleth agaynst thee. Feare is alwayes an euyl ghest of the minde, but a muche more, woorse compa∣nion in warre.

Of a foolyshe and rashe felow in office. The .lxxi .Dialogue.

SOROW.

I Haue a foolyshe and rashe felowe officer.

Reason.

As thou hast cause, I confesse, to feare, so hast thou cause also on the other side to hope: for as this hath ministred, vnto some, mat∣ter of calamitie, so hath it vnto others, cause of great glorie. The rashnes of Terentius Varro, procured death vnto Paulus Emili∣us. But on the other side, y^e rashnesse of Lucius Furius & Minuti∣us, purchased singular glory vnto Marcus Furius Camillus, and Quintus Fabius Maximus: the histories are wel knowen.

Sorow.

I haue an hastie and vnconstant office felowe.

Reason.

Be thou constant and modest. Vertue neuer shineth more bright∣ly, then when she is compared with her contrarie. Why shoul∣dest not thou rather modestly rule hym, then he rashly dryue forth thee?

Sorow.

I haue a very insolent felow in office.

Reason.

Hast thou forgotten, how that vnto the same Camillus, of whom I spake erewhyle, being Tribune of the people, with the auctho∣ritie of the Consul, his fiue fellow officers that were equal in com∣mission with him, at one time willingly submitted them selues vn∣to his gouernmēt? This commoditie bringeth surpassing vertue, it purchaseth auctoritie to the possessours, reuerence and shame∣fastnes to the woonderers at it: For thou shalt by no means better represse the insolencie of thy colleagen, then by industrie & vertue. By that meanes thou shalt bring it to passe, that he wilbe ashamed to be called thy felow, as was Minutius ashamed, and wil either submit himselfe vnto thee, with more honourable consent, then if the people had made him inferiour vnto thee, or at leastwise all the world shal see, that though he be equal with thee in name, yet is he inferiour in valour, and what soeuer is well doone, shalbe counted thine, and what soeuer yll done, shalbe iudged his.

Sorow.

There is happened vnto me a foolyshe and stubberne colleagen.

Reason.

Some thinges are learned by their contraries. Scholemaisters are woont to propose some foolyshe trysle vnto their schollars that learne but slowely, whiche when the myt

of the learner refuseth, it is the more easily withdrawne vnto the thinges that are true and woorth the learning. There commeth into my minde a notable saying of an obscure fellowe, when as not long agoe the citie of Florence had changed the estate, which it doeth to often and willingly, and the gouerment of the com∣monwelth was committed to theauctority of the common people, one of that insolent companie which had long time continued in it, and at length with greife had lost it, despising the basenesse of his poore neighbour that was an handicraftes man: And thou, sayde he, whiche neyther art learned, nor euer passedst out of the boundes of thine owne countrey, leadyng foorth thy lyfe alwayes togeather with thy companions in tradyng of thyne occupation, howe wylt theu be able to gouerne this so great and noble a ci∣tie? But he beyng nothing mooued here with, What great matter wyl that be, quoth he? As for you, there is no man ignorant what course you keepe, and yf we do euery thing contrary, we can not do amisse. O woorthy answeare, meete to haue proceeded from the wit of some learned man. Do thou lykewyse propose vnto thy selfe a contrarie example in thy college, vnto whom thou woul∣dest be most vnlike.

Of an vndiscreet and hastie Marshal of the feelde. The .lxxii. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Haue an vndiscret and hastie Marshal of the feelde.

Reason.

This is somwhat a more dangerous matter, I must needes confesse. Aske of your legions that were slayne at Trebeia, at Thrasumenus, at Cannas, and in many other places moe. If thou looke for remedie, leaue vncertayne warfare. But yf thou mayest not do so, neuerthelesse apply thou thy callyng valiantly, and diligently, so that thy valure may appeare among the er∣rours of thy captaynes, and that the ruine of an other man op∣presse not thee, but that thou rather, yf there be any meanes at al, mayest beare vp the common losse vpon thy souldiers. It is a difficult matter, I confesse, but neyther impossible, nor

vnaccustomable, which I commaund. For as the dastardlinesse of one Captaine hath often times ben the destruction of many soul∣diers, euen so somtime the valiencie of one man, hath saued the Captaine & the whole army. But to the end I be not longer then I ought to be: seke thou euery matter in order accordingly, for me it sufficeth to haue recited the names & times. Publius Decius in the Samnitike warre, Calphurnius Flamina in the first punike warre, Africanus the younger in the thyrd punike warre, all the Tribunes of the Souldiers, the defenders of theyr Captaynes and armies. But such & so great may be thy prowesse and good hap, that the infamie of another, may turne to thy exceedyng re∣nowme. A doubtful matter truely, but yet the onely meane in exte ame necessitie. And therefore, howsoeuer fortune haue tossed and turmoyled other, yet yf thou wylt be ruled by mee, thou shalt not forsake to be gouerned by vertue, neyther in peace, nor in warre, nor in lyfe, no nor in death it selfe.

Of vnfortunate successe in battayle. The .Lxxiij. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

BVT I am ouercome in battayle.

Reason.

Now feare is vanished away, and here after thou wylt begin to hope, for as muche as this is the succession of these affections. For hope and feare, beyng of thynges to come, as there may be some thyng to come whereof thou mayest hope, so is that past now which thou fearedst.

Sorowe.

I am ouercome in a great battayle.

Reason.

Onely be not ouercome in minde: for yf that once quayle, all is marred. Thou remembrest, how Marcel∣lus the next day after he was vanquished in battayle, returned in∣to the fielde, and ouerthrewe his conquerour in a greater conflict then he had been foyled in the day before▪ And Iulius Caesar, be∣yng put to the woorse at Durachium, shortly after gat the vpper∣hand at Pharsalia in an hotte skirmishe. Many that haue been ouercome in battayle, haue gone away with the better in the warre: the courage of valient men is not daunted with one dayes mishap, for such haue not loftie only, but also long lasting valure.

If to day thou be ouercome, to morowe thou wylt fight more warily. Vnfortunate battayles, like sharpe and faithful Maisters, doo teach Captaines experience, and with stripes admonyshe them where they haue erred; euen so lykewyse are Husbandmen by barrennesse, and Carpenters by the fall of houses, and Horse∣men by the often founderyng of their Horses, and Saylers sharp∣ned by great and dangerous tempestes: thus by erryng, men gaine experience.

Sorowe.

I am vanquished.

Reason.

There is none vanquished, but he that thynketh hym selfe vanquished, whose hope is troade vnder foote and extinguished, whose minde hath layde downe the remembrance how to take aduersitie. Be∣holde the Romanes, and their inuincible mindes at all times, but specially in the seconde Punike warre, who notwithstandyng the treacherie of their felowe nations, and so many conspiracies of kinges and countreys, and so many vnfortunate battayles, and almost vtter destruction, yet were they not vanquished: there was neuer any mention of peace made among them, no signe of dis∣payre, and finally nothyng els was there among them, but alto∣gether hygh and inuincible consultation. Whiche thyng, what is it other, then by the vertue of the minde, to soften the hardnesse of Fortune, and to enforce it to be ashamed of it selfe, and to loue thee? But at length, as meete it was, they rose aloft, and beyng a thousande tymes ouerthrowen, they floryshed the more, so that prowesse and Fortune made not onely their enimies that were terrible vnto them, but also the whole world successiuely their sub∣iectes & vassals.

Sorow.

I am vanquished, I confesse.

Reason.

Now at length thou beginnest to knowe what Fortune is, & this commoditie hast thou learned by fleeing: none almost learneth great matters for nought. Many haue learned better by experi∣ence, then by going to schoole, & the dul head that could learne no∣thing of his schoole maister by the eare, hath ben taught by the eie. There is no schoolemistres of humane things more certaine, then aduersitie, none more conuenient to discusse and disciphre errours.

Sorowe.

I am ouerthrowen with a great wounde of Fortune.

Reason

Arise, lye not styll, greatnesse of the mind neuer more no∣tably sheweth it selfe, then in the woundes of Fortune. But nowe do thou know thy selfe, & hauing susteined so great a stroke, vn∣derstand

how great thine owne strength is.

Sorowe.

I haue lost my hoped victorie.

Reason.

If it were vnlooked for, thou hast won wisdome, but to say y^t there is no change in worldly things, it may not be hoped.

Sorow.

I am vanquished in war.

Reason.

He that is ouercome in battell, retaineth his libertie and lyfe, but whose is vanquished by vices, lofeth both, & he that yeeldeth ther∣vnto, is truely ouercome in deede.

Sorowe.

I am ouercome.

Reason.

How knowest thou whether that which was spoken vnto Pompeius the great, who was vanquished in battell in Thessa∣lia, do also agree vnto thee? It had ben woorse that he had ouercome: for as the more harme, so the lesse sinne hath he that is ouercome. A great gaine, which some, not only wishing to be ouercome, but choosing also to die, haue in hart preferred: and truely they make a good exchange, who by the death of their body, seeke for the health of their soules: but many reioyce in their owne harmes, and are greeued at their owne good, such blindnes possesseth the mindes of men.

Sorowe.

I am ouerthrowen.

Reason.

This might hap∣pen vnto thee, not for want of skil in the art of warfare, but by for∣tune. Fortune neuer sheweth herself any where more to be fortune, then in battel, as in other things she may do much, so in this, they say, she can do al.

Sorow.

Being vanquished in battel, I am come away.

Reason.

But thou art not therefore immediatly naked. Marciall weapons may be taken from the vanquished, but the true goodes, which are the weapons of the minde, they do styl re∣tayne that seeme to be ouercome. For they, as well as out of the fire & shipwracke, are brought away out of a lost battell: And not those alone, which being hyd vp in the minde can not be touched with any weapon, but they also that in the conflict seeme to be in the greatest daunger, and most exposed to the dint of the swoorde. And therefore not whosoeuer is ouercome in bat∣tell, is also spoyled of his Martiall honour, although loo∣syng his armour, and fleeyng out of the fielde, or that more is, leauyng his Carkas dead vppon the colde grounde, he carrie away with hym the name of a woorthie Captayne. For the Grecian histories report, howe that Leonides at Thermopylae, beyng not so muche ouercome, as weeried with ouercomming, was there slayne with his power, lying among the

great heapes and mountaynes of his enimies: whiche fame the Poet Virgil commendeth in Deiphobus: and in the Emathian sieldes, if we beleeue Lucane, the vnfortunate armie stoode in an vncertayne aray. And in the last battayle that was fought in A∣frica agaynst Hannibal, it was not possible that an armie should be more orderly marshalled, nor fyght more couragiously: which thyng, as he that was conquered confessed of the conquerour, so dyd the conquerour report of hym that was conquered, beyng ey∣ther of them men of singuler iudgement in those affayres. And what shal we say hath he lost, who hath lost neyther the true glo∣rie of his art, nor the assurance in conscience of his vpryght dea∣lyng in that he vndertooke?

Of Ciuile warre. The .Lxxiiij. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

WE are shaken with Ciuile warre.

Reason.

The name hereof is deriued of Citizens, and thou art one of the Citizens, take heede therefore, that thou be not one of the number of the sticklers in this mischiefe, and to thy power thou be not voyde of blame: For this is the ma∣ner of ciuile warres, one man enflameth and prouoketh another, vntyll all of them ioyntly haue raysed a publike outrage, whiche publique outrage at length pricketh foorth and thrusteth headlong euery priuate man forwarde. For this common mischiefe neuer commeth thus fyrst to ripenesse of it selfe, although by encreasing it infect, yea sometyme ouerthrowe an whole Citie: but yf thou wouldest fynde the fyrst original thereof, it is rooted in the errours of priuate persons. and this is that therefore whereof I exhort thee to beware, that thou also haue not ben one of those that haue mayntayned the ciuile flame, eyther by ministryng matter to the fire, or by blowyng the coales. For many doo thynges, whereof shortly after they complayne, and lament theyr owne deede, as yf it were some wound inflicted by another mans hand. Many haue perished in their owne fyre. But yf thou be gyltie vnto thy selfe of no suche matter, duetifull and godly is the sorowe of a Citizen

in the publique calamitie, but he may conceyue comfort of his innocencie. Of all the mischiefes that folowe man, there is none more lamentable then sinne, or rather as it seemeth vnto certaine notable men, there is none other mischiefe at al.

Sorow.

We are vexed with ciuile warre.

Reason.

In the rage of the multi∣tude shewe thou thy selfe a follower of peace, whiche though it be to small purpose, yet aduaunce thy selfe though alone in the de∣fence of libertie and iustice: whiche although perhappes shall doo thy Countrey but small pleasure, yet shall it redowne to thy com∣mendation: of eyther of these, one Citie shall gene thee an exam∣ple, to wit, Menenius Agrippa, and Portius Cato, euen the same that was the last.

Sorowe.

The Citizens are together by the eares in implacable ciuile warre.

Reason.

If thou canst doo nothyng thereto of thy selfe, labour others, reprooue them, entreate them, withstande them, chastice them, speake them faire, beate into their heades the vtter ouerthrowe of the Common wealth, whiche conteyneth in it the ruine of euery priuate person, and seemyng proper to none, appertayneth to all: To be short, seeke to appease theyr mindes, at the one syde with duetie, on the other with terrour. But yf thou profite nothyng that way, make thy prayers vnto Almightie GOD, and wyshe the witte and amendment of thy Citizens, and the safetie of thy Countrey, and in all poyntes fulfyl the duetie of a good Citizen.

Sorow.

The Common wealth is come to great extremitie by ciuile warre.

Reason.

To the ende that neither by ciuile nor external warres any thyng happen vnto thee vnlooked for, nor any chaunce op∣presse thee vpon a sudden, alwayes recount this one thyng in thy minde, that not men only, but al worldly thynges also are mortal, the soule of man onely excepted. And as in men, so lykewyse in Cities and great Empires, there be sundry diseases and maladies, some in the outwarde partes, and some rysing within the bodye, among which are mutinies, and fallinges away, and brawles, and discordes, and ciuile warres: and moreouer, that euery one hath a tyme prefixed whiche he can not passe, whiche euery day draweth nearer then other, and although it be deferred for a time, yet most sure it is that it wyll come. Where there stand now most famous Cities, there sometyme haue stoode rough and wilde wooddes,

and so perhaps shall doo agayne. It is a great follie for any Citie to hope for that of it selfe, whiche Rome, the Lady and Queene of all Cities, coulde not attayne. This is the difference betweene the endes and decayes of men, and of Cities, in that the ende of men, by reason of their innumerable and infinite multitude, and shortnes of lyfe, is dayly seene with the eyes: but of Cities, be∣cause of the rarenesse of them, and theyr longer continuance, it is scarce beholden once in many hundred yeeres, and then with great wonder and admiration. This meditation shall make thee more strong agaynst all chaunces, as well publique as priuate. And to conclude, the same shall lay foorth vnto thee, though not a pleasant, yet an indifferent way vnto pouertie, vnto exile, and vn∣to death it selfe, and teach thee how that this mischiefe is peculier to thy Countrey, which is common vnto you all that be Citizens.

Of the disagreement of a waueryng minde. The .Lxxv. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I AM troubled with the disagreeyng of my minde.

Reason.

There is no warre woorse then this, no not ciuile warre: For that is betweene Citizens, but this with a mans owne selfe. That is betweene factions of Citizens in the streetes of the Cities, but this is fought within in y^e minde, betweene the partes of the soule. And therefore, forasmuche as there is a kynde of warre, which is counted more then ciuyll warre, where not Citi∣zens onely, but kinsmen also fyght among them selues, as was betweene Caesar and Pompei, of whiche it was sayde, Heere brethren stoode, and there was shedde the parentes blood: Muche more truely may that be so called, where not the father agaynst the sonne, nor brother agaynst brother, but man agaynst hym selfe doth contende: duryng whiche stryfe, the minde hath ney∣ther quietnesse, nor securitie.

Sorowe.

My minde is at vari∣ance, and distracted with diuers affections.

Reason.

Away with that variance: begynne to minde one thyng. For tyll those contrary affections, lyke seditious Citizens, minde one and the same thyng, neuer shall the minde be quiete and at peace with it

selfe. But as the Ague of bodyes commeth through contrarie and corrupt humours, so contrarie affections engender the Ague of mindes, the whiche by so muche is the more dangerous, by how muche the minde is more noble then the body, and eternall death more terrible, then the temporall: in eche yf a meane be obserued, health may notably be maynteyned.

Sorowe.

My minde is at debate, and chooseth not what it woulde.

Reason.

Thou nowe tyest the cause of euyll, and euyll it selfe together, supposing the same to be at debate, because it chooseth not: But let it once begyn to choose, & the stryfe wyll quicklie ceasse, I say let it choose to wyll that good is, not euyll, for els it wyl be so far from finding quietnesse, that more and more it shal be disquieted. For vices can neuer agree together: but where vertues are, there is peace and concorde.

Sorow.

My minde is at dissension, being deuided into partes.

Reason.

Philosophers haue de∣stinguished the mind into three partes: the fyrst wherof, as the go∣uernour of mans lyfe, heauenly, blessed, & next vnto GOD, they haue placed in the head, as it were in a Towre, where quiet and honest cogitations and willes doo dwell: the second, in the brest, where anger and malice boyleth: the thyrd, in the neather partes, from whence proceedeth lust and concupiscence, the tempest of this sea is double: so thou seest now what thou hast to doo. Doo as Menenius dyd, of whom euen now I spake, he perswaded the common people to come vnder the gouernement of the Sena∣tours, whose profitable counsayle they followyng, were brought from dissension to amitie: so he counsayled them, but yf counsayle wyl not serue, doo thou compell thyne abiect and base partes to obeye the noble: For tyl that be brought about, neuer looke to be quiet in minde: And lacking quietnesse, surely mans lyfe is vn∣setled, and foolyshe, and tossed about, and vncertaine, and blinde, yea, altogether miserable. Many in all theyr lyfe tyme, knowe not what they woulde haue.

Sorow.

I am troubled in minde, and knowe not what I woulde.

Reason.

Thou hast moe compa∣nions, troubled not once or twyse, but, as last of all I sayde, all theyr lyfe tyme. And truely among all that thou hast sayde, thou hast not, and saye what thou wylt, thou canst not, almoste shewe a greater miserie.

Sorowe.

I am

tossed, and diuersly enclined.

Reason.

To be in suche a case, is a notable argument that the minde is not wel. For as a sicke bo∣dy tumbleth on the bedde: so a sicke minde knoweth not what to stycke vnto. Suche are in a most miserable case. For better doo I conceyue of hym which stoutly persisteth in wickednesse (for if he repent, happily he wyl be as constant in well doyng, as he was impudent in naughtinesse) then of a lyght brayne, which carelesly neglecteth al counsayle: for yf he at any tyme begyn to doo well, he is soone weerie, and wyll not persiste, but remayneth altogea∣ther ignorant, so that we may well apply that obscure saying of Seneca vnto hym: They which doo not that they shoulde, consume the tyme without profite, for dooyng nowe that, nowe this, and neuer continue in one, may well be sayde to doo that they should not: albe∣it that place may otherwyse be applyed.

Sorowe.

I am op∣pressed with cares.

Reason.

As though among the swellyng waues, the shyppe of thy lyfe, beyng voyde of counsayle, and desti∣tute of a Master, coulde escape shypwracke, if thou doo not whyle tyme serueth ride in some quiet and safe Port, and there lye at Anker, before the tempest of the minde doo ouerwhelme thee.

Sorow.

I am caried away, knowyng not what to doo.

Reason.

And so besides the peryls of the minde, whiche are incompre∣hensible and infinite, your lookes are diuers and strange, lyke the minde, whiche as Cicero wryteth, maketh the same, and beyng in such a state, now merrie, now sadde, now feareful, now secure, now swyft, now slowe in gate, thou art a notable garyng stocke for al men, through the varietie of such gesture, as was Catiline. But once settle thy selfe to wyll, and doo well: but otherwyse, yf thou wyll that yll is, styll shalt thou be as thou art: For vice is alwayes variable. Settle thy selfe, I say, to wyll that good is, and then shalt thou fynde, as thy minde quieted, so thy lookes stayed, and all thy gestures vniforme, vnchangable, eyther through hope, or feare, through ioye, or griefe, whiche is a speciall part of graui∣tie, seene in very fewe men, and hyghly commended among the Grecians in Socrates, and in Lelius among your Countreymen, and last of al in Marcus Antonius, and in Aurelius Alexander among your Princes.

Of a doubtful state. The .lxxvi. Dialogue.

SOROW.

I Am in a doubteful state.

Reason.

What is it I pray thee that thou doubtest of? Is it, whether mortall men must dye, or whether transitorie thinges are to be contemned, or that we must not depende altogether vpon prosperitie? or whether de∣stinie cannot be auoyded, and therefore must be tollerated, neither fortune bowed, but may be broken? To all these the answeares are certayne.

Sorowe.

Beyng in a doubtfull state, I knowe not what wyll become of me.

Reason.

In deede perhaps thou mayest doubt where, when, and how thou shalt dye, but that thou must dye: that he can not dye an euyll death, whiche hath ledde a good lyfe, or to soone, which alwayes hath played the honest man, thou canst not doubt. Agayne, that he can dye out of his owne countrey, who maketh the whole worlde his countrey, or but in exile, whiche desireth to be in his natiue countrey, except thou be vnwyse, thou canst neuer doubt. Whence therefore come these doubtynges? Perchaunce of fortune: but thinkest thou she wylbe faythful to thee, whiche with none keepeth fayth? Is it not more lykely that she wyll keepe her olde woont, lyke the troublesome sea, now deceitful with a fayned calmenesse, nowe with surging waues terrible, by and by dreadefull with shypwracke? And yet hadst thou any experience at al, no place should there remayne for doubting. For albeit the euentes be doubtful: yet vertue, which wyl make thee certayne in the greatest vncertaynetie, is alwayes certayne, vnto whom when thou hast geuen thy selfe, nothyng shalbe doubtful, but al thynges foreseene.

Sorow.

I haue a doubtful state.

Reason.

But the same is not doubtful to God, and therefore content thy selfe, and commit thee wholly vnto him, saying, In thy handes I am, do with me as it pleaseth thee: whiche thing spoken godly, laye feare aside, cast of doubting, be no more careful. He knoweth what to doo with thee, which know∣eth al thynges. With a litle, but sure with a trustie barke thou cuttest the mightie sea. He is a faythful, and most careful gouer∣nour of thy saluation. What skylleth it if the passenger know not

the way, so it be knowen to the maister of the shyp?

Of woundes receyued, The .lxxvii. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Am vexed with most greeuous woundes.

Reason.

O howe lyght shoulde they seeme, wouldest thou beholde the woundes of thy soule. But suche delicate bodyes haue most commonly insensible soules. Of one part nothyng, on the other ye are re∣dy to suffer al thynges, and, whiche is most wretched, ye neuer feele them.

Sorowe.

My woundes trouble me.

Reason.

The enimies swoorde pearseth the shielde, not the soule. For she can neuer be hurt, if so be she do not bereaue her selfe of her owne weapons. It was sayde of a certaye man in a litle, but sure a learned woorke, that no man can be hurt but of hym selfe, whiche I thinke to be a true saying, albeit many mislyke the same.

Sorowe.

I am mangled with most greeuous and manifolde woundes.

Reason.

There is no wounde more greeuous then that whiche is to the death, but there is but one suche wounde: and yf but one that is most greeuous, the rest must needes be lyght. Caesar being goared with twentie and three woundes, had but one deadly wounde: and yf we should graunt them al to be deadly, yet coulde he dye but once. And albeit many and deepe are the woundes, yet but one effect is there of them all: the often woundyng of a dead body, argueth a blooddie minde in the woun∣der, but encreaseth no payne in the wounded.

Sorowe.

With woundes I am weakened.

Reason.

Woulde to God pryde with al her sisters were brought lowe, and humilitie admitted for a companion of the woundes, that we myght finde it true whi∣che was written, Thou hast humbled the proude, lyke a wounded person. It is a good wounde and profitable, whiche is a medicine to heale other and greater woundes.

Sorowe.

I am ougly in sight through my woundes.

Reason.

Hast thou forgot that young man of whom twyse in this our communication we spake? Hereafter shouldest thou doo that of thyne owne accorde, which now thou doest lament to be done vnto thee by another.

Sorowe.

My face is disfigured with woundes.

Reason.

The wounde is not to be regarded so muche as the cause thereof. Woundes receyued in a lawful war, do woonderfully adorne the face. Fayre is the wounde whiche a valiant man hath gotten in a good qua∣rel, but muche fayrer is the death.

Sorow.

I am lame with∣all.

Reason.

Thou remembrest, I am sure, the answeare of Ho∣ratius Cocles, who after he had borne the brunt of the whole ar∣mie of the Tusca••e king vpon the brydge Sublicius, after a more valiant then credible maner, and escaped from his enimies, the brydge beyng broken by his owne countreymens handes, and leaping into the ryuer Tyber, though with some hurt vnto one of his legges, which thing, afterward suing for an office, was obiected vnto hym, thus stopped the mouth of his aduersarie: I halte not at al, quoth he, but suche is the wyt of the immortal Gods, that euery step whiche I make, shoulde bryng into my remembrance my glorious victorie: as noble an answere, as his exploite was notable.

Sorow.

I haue lost myne hande in fight.

Reason.

If it be thy left hande, the losse is the lesse: but if it be thy ryght hande, thou may∣est doo as dyd Marcus Sergius, a man of prowesse, who hauing in fight lost his ryght hande in the Punike war, made hym one of Iron, wherewith he went to many and blooddie battayles. But yf that be not so conuenient, make thy left hande to serue thy turne in steede of a ryght. Thou remembrest howe Attilius, one of Caesars souldiers in the Massilian warre, helde with his left hande the enimies shyp tyl he was drowned, when his ryght hande was cut of.

Sorowe.

I haue lost both mine handes.

Reason.

Where fortune hath most libertie, there greatest vertue is to be showen. The power of fortune may be withstoode by the prowesse of vertue. Which if thou hast, thou art valient, though thou haue neuer an hande. Cal vnto thy mind Ciniger the Athe∣nian, who when both handes were cut of, after the Marathoni∣an battayle, beyng a great argument of his inuincible cou∣rage, held fast his enimies shyp with his teeth, as wel as he could, whiche battayle was the immortal fact of captayne Melciades. Neyther do thou forget that Souldier of Cannas, who reuenged himselfe on his enimie with his teeth when his handes were may∣med. For beyng in his armes, & depriued of the vse of his handes,

he bit of his eares, and marred the fashion of his face afore he would let goe, and so dyed, as he thought, gloriously. These are examples of cruel mindes: but the remedies whiche nowe I prescribe are more comfortable, and meete for milde mindes: And that is, remember thy body is a frayle and mortal thyng, and speedyly also wyl forsake thee: when thou art wounded, or o∣therwyse troubled in body, be not moued, neyther maruayle thereat, but hauing lost the ministry of thyne outwarde limmes, conuert thy selfe into the inmost corners of thy soule, there shalt thou finde some great thing to be sayde and done, and that thou needest neyther handes nor tongue to helpe thee.

Sorow.

I am deformed with woundes.

Reason.

I sayde eare whyle that yf the quarrel were good, the wounde is faire whiche is got∣ten by fight, and the face is not deformed with filthy woundes, but adorned with glorious markes: Neyther are they scarres, but starres, nor woundes, but signes of vertue fixed in the face. Cesius Scena, a captayne of an hundred in Caesars armie, a man of a woonderful courage, but of no vpryghtnesse otherwise, was had in such admiration among his enimies, that they not onely kissed his woundes, wherwith he was torne and cut through a thousande fold, in respect of his valientnesse only, but also conueied his wea∣pons and armor into the temples of their Gods, as most excel∣lent ornamentes, and reliques. If he, beyng a wicked man, was so honored, in what price are they to be had, who are aswel vertu∣ous as valiant?

Sorow.

I am extreamely weake through my woundes.

Reason.

Heale, ye wretches, those woundes which wyl sticke by you for euer, yf in tyme they be not healed. Let earth looke to them, which shall both couer, and consume them, yea and make crooked bodyes, which it receiueth, strayght, when it resto∣reth them agayne.

Sorowe.

I am maymed, being so wounded in this, and in that parte.

Reason.

Thou stryuest about par∣tes, but thou shalt forgoe the whole.

Of a kyng without a sonne. The .lxxviii. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Haue a kyngdome, but I lacke a sonne.

Reason.

Hast thou not cares enough through the burden of thy kyng∣dome,

except thou haue the charge of a sonne also? The heauier your burden is, the lyghter your hart, and sweete it see∣meth to you when ye lye downe with your loade. There is no publike wayght so heauie, as a kyngdome, nor no priuate charge more waightie, though none so deare, as a sonne.

Sorow.

I lacke a sonne to whom I may leaue my kyngdome.

Reason.

Leaue to thy subiectes libertie, nothing is better for them to haue, nor meeter for thee to geue. There haue been some whiche in their lyfe tyme, and yet not without successours, haue thought hereupon, as Hiero Siracusan, and Augustus Caesar. Howe much better is it to do well vnto many when thou mayest, then yl vnto one? And what is sweeter, yea better, then to lyue in free∣dome? What woorser, yea more daungerous, then to be a kyng?

Sorowe.

I lacke a sonne to be heire of my kyngdome.

Reason.

Thou lackest matter to continue a tyrannie. For what els are kyngdomes, but auncient tyrannies? Tyme maketh not that to be good, whiche by nature is euyll. Adde hereunto, that good fathers, commonly haue vngracious chyldren, to succeede them. Exam∣ples hereof may be Hierome of Sicile, and Iugurth Tyrant of Numidia, whereof the one through ambition, the other through trecherie, both to their destruction, violated the auncient amitie whiche their forefathers had many yeeres kept religiously with the Romans. Hast thou not a sonne? Then thou hast not hym which shal ouerthrowe that whiche thou hast done: thou hast a people whiche wyl loue thee, honoure thee, remember thee, and alwayes thanke thee for theyr libertie. Thinke that God hath delt more graciously with thee, eyther in takyng away, or deny∣ing thee a sonne, then in geuing thee a kyngdome.

Sorowe.

I am a kyng without a sonne.

Reason.

Nowe raigne more ver∣tuously, and freely: many tymes the loue of chyldren, draweth a∣way the minde from the loue of iustice. Thou hast redde how in the great Ilande Taxrobane, which lyeth farre beyonde India with∣in the East Oceane, directly opposite to England, the kyng is chosen by the consent of the people, and they take vnto them the best man among al to be their kyng: neyther blood, nor good, fauour nor profite, but only goodnesse bryngeth to preferment. Truely an holy and blessed election. Wouldeto God it were

vsed in these partes of the worlde, then shoulde not yl succeede the good, nor the woorst the wicked: then shoulde not wickednesse and pride come from parentes to theyr chyldren in al posterities, as it doth. And though the best and most vpryght man with one con∣sent of al be chosen, yet is he neuer allowed for kyng, except he be both an olde man, and without chyldren, least eyther the heate of youth, or the loue of chyldren, carrie hym away from the execu∣tyng of iustice. So that he whiche hath a sonne, is neuer chosen: and after he is created kyng, if he beget one, he is immediatly remoued from his princely aucthoritie. For the wyse men of that countrey thynke it impossible, that one man should haue a dili∣gent care both of his kyngdome and of his chyldren.

Of a kyngdome lost. The .lxxix. Dialogue.

SOROW.

MY kyngdome is gone.

Reason.

Nowe it is a kynde of comfort to be without a sonne.

Sorowe.

I am cast out of my kyngdome.

Reason.

A good fal, thou sattest in a slypperie place, and now, beyng on the plaine, and beholdyng the perilous height behinde thy backe, thou wylt see howe that descendyng from the throne of royaltie, thou art aduaunced to the rest of a priuate lyfe. And if there can be no pleasure nor happinesse without securitie, thou shalt perceyue, that somewhat more pleasant and happie is the lyfe thou nowe leadest, then whiche thou dyddest heretofore.

Sorow.

I am driuen from my kyngdome.

Reason.

Thanke hym which was cause thereof: an harde thyng for the eare to heare peraduenture, but surely comfortable to the mind it is that I byd thee. For thou art dryuen from that, from whiche thou must needes depart, and that which wyllingly thou shouldest doo, thou art enforced to do. That force whiche should be wyshed, is not to be lamented. For who can eyther wyshe to be aboue men, as a kyng, or myslyke that he is made equal to others, as a man? If it be a goodly thing, and to be wyshed, to excell, then to excell in the moste goodlye thyng of all, is exceedingly to be desired. Wherefore, to be

free from all lawes and controlment, to excell in outwarde glory, to haue abundance of golde and precious stones, is to be a kyng, but vertue is the thing whiche maketh the prince, and this wyl any wordlyng easily confesse. For who seeth not, that among men superioritie is due vnto humanitie, not vnto riches, whiche onely make a ryche man, they cannot make a man ciuile, and so not better for vertue, neyther hygher for aucthoritie? But this, a∣mong other of your errours, aryseth from the desire of excellen∣cie, whiche being contented with it owne place, ye seeke where it is not, not beholdyng the true euent of thynges and causes. For as among ryche men, the rychest, among strong men, the stron∣gest, the fayrest among the fayre, & among orators the most elo∣quent: so certaynely among men, the most humane doth excel other.

Sorow.

I am fallen from the seate of royaltie.

Reason.

If thou dyddest fall without hurte, it is very woonderful: For commonly they whiche so fal, leese kingdome and soule togeather. But if thy soule be safe, mislike not, if thou be wise, thine ex∣change: For more quiet and plesaunt is thy life nowe, then it was then. And that knewe they full wel, which not constrained, but voluntarilie forsooke their Empire, left their dignitie of Pope∣dome, which some haue supposed to be aboue all other earthly dignities: among whom Diocletian is most famous, who be∣ing called agayne to the Empire, whiche of his owne accorde he had forsaken, contemned the wealth of the world, and the slippery place of principalitie, so greedyly sought after, and dearely bought with the blooddy murderyng of many, he abhorred, preferring his pryuate lyfe before the royaltie of prynces, and the base fruite of his owne poore garden, planted with his owne handes, be∣fore the delicious fare of the courte.

Sorowe.

I am thrust out of my princely pallace.

Reason.

Contente thy selfe, many secrete dangers thou hast escaped, among whiche ere∣whyle thou were helde captyue, with strong, though golden, and sure, though glorious fetters, and couldest not beholde thy miserie, beyng blynded in mynde: but nowe, through lyght of wysedome, mayest perceyue the subtile place of incon∣stant fortune. And what couetous carle is he, that would not choose a poore soundnes of the most noble sense, rather then

a rich blindenes? But no lesse noble, yea without comparison, more noble is the sight of the minde, then that of the bodie: reioyce therefore, that with a litle losse of a transitorie kyngdome, thou hast attayned for a smal price a great thing, yea not one thing onely, for not onely blyndnesse is departed from thee with thy kyngdome, but also thy libertie restoared, and thou thy selfe dis∣charged of thy publique function.

Sorowe.

I am put from my royaltie.

Reason.

Credite them whiche haue experience: the royal robes, crowne, and scepter, are most heauie thinges: be∣yng lyghtened of so mightie, and manifolde a burden, ceasse to complayne.

Sorowe.

I haue lost my kyngdome.

Reason.

Nay thou hast escaped, and swymming away naked, hast saued thy selfe from drownyng: suche men shoulde ceasse complaining, and beyng restoared to the land, ought to perfourme the vowes that they haue made.

Sorowe.

I haue lost the happynesse of a kyngdome.

Reason.

If thou call it eyther a miserable hap∣pinesse, or an happie miserie, a false felicitie, or a true miserie, I confesse thou hast done so.

Sorowe.

I haue lost my kyngdome, my aucthoritie, my welth and al togeather.

Reason.

Thou oughtest rather to reioyce thereat, for they woulde haue bereaued thee of al ••oy, and destroyed thee.

Sorowe.

I lacke princely aucthoritie.

Reason.

So doest thou the cares and troubles in∣cident vnto kynges, through the hatred and weerysomnes wher∣of, some woulde haue departed from their thrones, as Augustus though modestie, and Nero through feare, others dyd forsake them, as euen nowe I sayde. They whiche cannot wyllyngly, (as the affections of many are stiffe, and wyl not be bridled) when they must forceablie do so, ought greatly to thanke both God, and man, bringing them to that estate, whiche exceedingly they shoulde wyshe and desire. The first wishe of a good minde shoulde be, wyllyngly to embrace wyse counsell, the seconde, to doo so though constrainedly. That full wel knewe the myghtie kyng of Siria Antiochus, who beyng spoyled of al Asia beyonde the mountayne Taurus, sent great thankes vnto the senate and peo∣ple of Rome, because they had vnburdened hym of an ouer great charge, and brought hym to a meane estate: Pleasantly truely, though but from the teeth forward: but yf from the hart, prudent∣ly

and grauely was it spoken.

Sorowe.

I am come downe from my kyngly throne.

Reason.

I sayde it was the poynt of a shamelesse pride, I wyll now adde, the part of wretchlesse mad∣nesse, to forget our estate, to loath that we are, to long to be suche as we can neuer be. All men cannot be Kinges, let it suffise that we are men. They that greedyly embrace their kingdomes, doo loath their owne humane estate, and woulde be counted as they are not, as it shoulde seeme, whiche so desyre their earthly king∣domes. Quiet your selues, ye wretches, let them thynke them sel∣ues in good case, whiche haue lefte of to be Kinges. For as the state of all men is hard, so most miserable is the condition of Kinges: their innocent life to labour, their wicked to infamie, ech to daunger is subiect, turne they how they wyll, they shall fynde extremities to ouerwhelme them, and shypwrackes of theyr sub∣staunce. To escape these thynges thou iudgest it a misfortune, but sure neuer came suche good lucke vnto thee, as when thou wast most vnluckie in thyne owne iudgement.

Sorowe.

It gree∣neth mee, that another hath my kyngdome.

Reason.

It was not thyne truely, but Gods, and yf he gaue it, why eyther may he not, yf he wyl, take it away? or can he not, yf he please, geue it vnto another? But, besydes the wyl of the bestower, whiche alone may suffise, consyder whether in thy selfe there were not causes why thou were berefte thereof, as those whiche a certayne wyse man doth expresse, saying, A Kingdome is transported from one nation to another, through vniust dealyng, and iniuryng, and reprochfull woordes, and diuers double dealynges.

Sorowe.

I am no more a King.

Reason.

Nowe art thou a man. For suche is the pride of Princes, that they blush to be called men, whiche our Sauiour was not ashamed of.

Of Treason. The .Lxxx. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

MY freendes haue betrayed me.

Reason.

Nay thyne enimies, I trowe: For if they had been freendes, they had neuer betrayed thee.

Sorow.

My very familiers haue betrayed me.

Reason.

The name of a familer,

is a doubtful woorde: For there is a familiar freende, and a fa∣miliar enimie, then whom, a greater mischiefe is not among men.

Sorowe.

They haue betrayed me, whom I trusted most.

Reason.

Seldome is he deceyued, that neuer trusted. The greater of power a man is, the lesse trust shall he fynde, and the more treacherie. The myghtie man must trust moste, and ma∣nie: Whereby it falleth out, that as it is a common thyng to all men, so especially to Kynges, to be betrayed, and none so soone as they. Priamus was betrayed by his owne subiectes, so was Minos, Nysus, Oethes, Agamemnon, Alexander, and before hym, Darius: all these were betrayed, I say, by suche as they put most affiance in. Among the Romans, Romulus, Tarqui∣nius. Priscus, Seruius Tullus, African the lesser, and Pompey the great, and Iulius Caesar, and a thousande moe, eyther kinges, or in dignitie hygher then kynges, were betrayed in lyke maner. And what doo I speake of suche as haue been betrayed, as though nowe there were none suche to be founde? Who is there, whiche both in great and lyttle matters, is not dayly be∣trayed, yf he haue any dealynges with men? Last of all, Christe was betrayed, and the Kyng of Heauen was not without the miserie of earthly kynges.

Sorowe.

Those whom I trusted, haue betrayed me, I am touched neerer with their treacherie, then with mine owne discommodities.

Reason.

That is wel sayde, and godly: For so African also, whom very latelie I men∣tiond, as Cicero doth report, sayth, That not so muche the feare of death, as the flatterie of his freendes, dyd trouble hym. And yet with neyther shouldest thou be too extreamely touched. For in∣asmuche as it falleth out, that the betrayer getteth gayne, with the losse of credite, and he that is betrayed, damage with a good name: choose whether thou wouldest haue of these twayne.

Sorow.

The traytor hath deceyued me.

Reason.

The grea∣ter hurt is not thyne, but his. He hath betrayed thee, but hath cast away hym selfe: he hath pricked thee, but hath wounded hymselfe: in spoylyng thee, he hath slayne hym selfe. For perchaunce from thee he hath plucked, eyther thy kyngdome, or thy wealth: but from hym selfe hath he plucked his soule, his fame, the quietnesse of conscience, and companie of al good men. The Sunne shyneth

not vpon a more wicked thyng, then is a Traytor, whose fylthy∣nesse is suche, that they whiche neede his crafte, abhorre the craftesman: and others, whiche woulde be notorious in other sinnes, shunne the shame of this impietie.

Sorowe.

I am be∣trayed.

Reason.

Happilie it wyl cause thee to beware against another tyme: For so it falleth out. Many admonished sometimes by lyght matters, learne howe to deale more wyselie in greater affayres.

Of the losse of a Tyrannie. The .Lxxxj. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Haue lost my Tyrannie.

Reason.

If it be a gayning losse, to haue lost a kyngdome, how muche more profitable to haue lost a tyrannie? For albeit, as we sayde before, speakyng of a king without a sonne, all kyngdomes well nygh were go∣uerned by Tyrantes, yet through continuance of tyme they haue gotten through, and forgetfulnesse of men, haue put on the bayle of iustice, so that the vnryghteousnesse of a tyrannie, and Tyrantes, are odious nowe a dayes.

Sorowe.

I haue layde away my tyrannie.

Reason.

A burden to the Common weale greeuous, to thy selfe dangerous, to no good man profitable, hurtfull to many, odious vnto all men, hast thou layde away.

Sorowe.

I haue put of a tyrannie.

Reason.

Be not naked: put on ryghteousnesse, modestie, thryftinesse, honestie, godlynesse, mercie, and loue, whiche are most goodlye ornamentes, and may be atrayned with∣out anye money, onely with a wyllyng mynde: garmentes they are for good men, eyther vnknowen, or abhorred of vngratious Tyrauntes, who, beyng bedecked with Pearles and Purple, are altogeather naked, in respecte of humani∣tie and vertue.

Sorowe.

My Citizens haue dryuen me out of my tyrannie.

Reason.

They haue taken vnto them theyr lybertie, whiche was due vnto them, and haue geuen thee thy lyfe, whiche thou oughtest to haue loste for vsur∣pyng the same. Thou owest thy lyfe vnto them, who owe nought

vnto thee but malice. And thus vnkindly thou complaynest, when reason woulde, thou shouldest geue thankes. But this is an olde wonte, that he complayneth, whiche hath doone the miurie, and he whiche sustayned the same, doth holde his peace.

Sorowe.

I am berefte of the tyrannie, which along whyle I haue enioyed.

Reason.

They were thy subiectes, whiche myght peraduenture better haue been thy gouernours. Thou countest it an iniurie to haue thy long tyrannie to be cutte of: when in very deede the ende of thy tyrannie, is the begynnyng of theyr prosperi∣tie, and the entraunce of iustice, the expulsion of iniurie. And yf it were shamefull, that many shoulde peryshe for the pleasure of one: it shoulde be ioyfull to consyder, but extreame impudencie to complayne, that suche miserie is come to an ende.

Sorowe.

I am throwen downe from the tyrannie, whiche I haue possessed this many yeeres.

Reason.

If thou haddest voluntarily come downe, it had been better: but yf thou haddest neuer assen∣ded thereunto, it had been best of all. Notwithstanding, by any meanes to come downe, it is good, because it is expedient and iust: and better is a forced equitie, then a voluntarie crueltie. Har∣ken I pray thee, how an vngodly Tyrant, beyng in Hell, exclay∣meth vnto the tormented soules, Learne to doo iustice, when ye are warned. Harken also vnto me alyue, exhortyng the lyuing, Learne to doo iustice, though with compulsion. Let not this my most neces∣sarie and profitable admonition, vttered in due tyme, be contem∣ned: the other was out of tyme, and made too late: For in vayne is it to learne that, whiche cannot be put in practise. Asswage now your swellyng mindes, and put away your proude and cruel desyres to raigne, though not before, yet now at the length, after that you haue lost your aucthoritie, ceasse to be Tyrantes, and wyshe not that which ye cannot attaine. Shew foorth thus much shame, yf you cannot iustice, that, hauing changed your manners, and put on a newe habite of the minde, and made rycher through the losse of ryches, the worlde may see, that as muche as ye haue forgonne of goodes, so muche ye haue gotten good∣nesse. Haue ye neuer hearde, howe that not onely the Kyng of Kynges, and Lorde of Lordes, GOD Almightie, from whence is all power both in Heauen and Earth, dooth,

at his good pleasure, both extende, and restrayne his lyberall hande, for causes iust alwayes, though secrete sometyme: but one earthly Kyng, contrariwyse doth put downe another, and one Tyrant oppresse another, and one nation destroy another. And neuer came this saying of the Prophets complaynyng vnto your eares, He shall geather the captiuitie togeather lyke Sande, and shall triumphe ouer the Kinges, and laugh Tyrants out of coun∣tenaunce? Frame your mindes to Fortune, or accordyng to the diuine pleasure of Almightie GOD rather, and take heede of that ridiculous and fylthy example of Dionisius, of al Tyrants the most detestable, of whom it is reported, that beyng banyshed from his natiue Countrey, he kept a schoole, and so exercised his crueltie vppon chyldren, when he coulde not vppon men. A cru∣ell nature, obstinate in wickednesse, voyde of vertue, and farre from reason.

Sorowe.

It greeueth me greatly, that I haue lost my tyranical aucthoritie.

Reason.

How woulde it trouble thee, to haue lost a lawfull possession, now that thou art so gree∣ued that thyne vsurped aucthoritie is gone? How woulde it vexe thee, to haue forgonne thyne owne: whiche takest it so heauilie, nowe that thou art berefte of that, which was not thyne?

Sorow.

I can not choose but take it greeuously, that I am throwen downe from my tyrannie.

Reason.

Way the cause, and it wyll trouble thee the lesse. The very name of Tyrantes, hath made many to fall: notwithstandyng, it is well knowen by experience, that the most part haue deseruedly been, and are dayly throwen downe from theyr dygnities. In the Politikes of Aristotle, thou mayest reade, howe that many Tyrantes haue peryshed through the abuses of theyr wyues. Whiche beyng vnderstoode, eyther actiuely or passiuely, is true, that is, through the iniu∣ries offered, eyther by Tyrantes vnto other mens wyues, or by the wyues of Tyrantes to others. Of the fyrst, thou hast for example, not onely Tyrannies, but also the Troiane, and Ro∣mane Kyngdomes. Of the seconde, thou hast Agis, a Tyrant among the Lacedemonians, who hauing hymselfe made a praye of the men his subiectes, set his deere wyfe to spoyle theyr wyues, which was not the least cause of hastenyng his destruction. But Aristotle, who florished in the dayes of Alexander the great,

and lyued not tyll this Tyrant raigned, coulde neuer knowe hym: albeit in those bookes, not without woonderfull admira∣tion, I fynde the names of Hiero, and Gelo, but consyderyng the course of tymes, I cannot conceaue howe he shoulde knowe them.

Sorowe.

Neyther haue I oppressed other mens wyues, nor my wyfe iniuried any, and yet am I dry∣uen from my tyrannie.

Reason.

Some tyme the moste hurtfull, thynke them selues innocent. But many causes be∣sydes, as great, there be, wherefore Tyrantes are put downe: as pryde, whiche Historiographers obiecte to Iulius Caesar, for that he rose not vp to the Senate, when with great obey∣saunce they approched vnto hym: but that, in these dayes is counted no cause. Crueltie also is another, whiche caused Merentius, as it is wrytten in Virgil, to be punished, and brought Caligula, Nero, and Domitian, to theyr death. Enuie lykewyse, whiche was the greatest torment, sayth Ho∣race, that euer the Tyrantes of Sicile founde: whiche yf it were so in his dayes, I warrent thee, at this present it is no lesse. Last of all, the greatest decay of Tyrantes, and most common, is couetousnesse. And therefore other thynges touche but cer∣tayne, and this all: The other trouble certayne Citizens, but this the whole people. Pryde and Enuie, raigne among Ty∣rantes them selues, crueltie rageth among fewe: but coue∣tousnesse among all. Crueltie sometyme ceasseth and is dimi∣nisheth, but couetousnesse encreaseth alwayes, and watcheth. Therefore, they whiche desire to beare rule ouer the people, ought aboue all, to shunne this vice, together with the shame and suspition thereof. For nothyng maketh a Tyrant so odi∣ons, nothyng is more vnseemelie for a Lorde, or Gouernour. Other vices many tymes hyde them selues vnder the cloake, eyther of magnanimitie, or of iustice, but this one vice putteth not of the basenesse and miserie of the minde. And contrarie to the common custome of mans errour: as nothyng is in deede more vile and miserable, then couetousnesse: so nothyng is to be deemed more vile and miserable. And therefore, they whiche are gyltie hereof, are iudged most vnmeete of all men to beare ho∣nour, and aucthoritie. Men disdayne to be vnder the gouerne∣ment

of hym that is subiecte to couetousnesse, and that he hath no ryght ouer the bodye, they thynke, whiche can not vse well the rule that he hath ouer his owne coyne, who thyn∣keth it also lawfull to bereaue men of theyr lyues, I say not of theyr money, and yet dareth not so muche as touche his owne treasure. Therefore the most redie and ryght waye to secu∣ritie and quietnesse is, not onely not to wyshe to beare domi∣nion as a Tyrant, but also not to desyre to rule as a kyng. For what is more foolyshe, more paynefull, or more perilous, then for a man to heape the burdens of the whole people vp∣pon his owne and onely backe, who is too weake peraduenture to beare his owne? But the familiaritie with the mortall enimie, and the peruersenesse of opinions, doth not permitte to choose that whiche is better. The next is, to haue in mynde the lesson of Aristotle, whiche is, that a man shewe hym selfe to be not a Tyrant, but a fauourer of the Common wealth. He must, sayth he, seeme to gather the incomes, and offerynges, the better to dispose, and vse them, yf neede doo require, for the defence of his Countrey in the tyme of warre: generally he must behaue hym selfe, as the keeper and Chamberlayne of common thynges, not of his owne: And agayne, He must repayre, and adorne the Citie, as a Steward, not spoyle it as a Tyrant: And againe, He must behaue him selfe not as a Tyrant, but as a King, carefull of the publique welfare, and loue a meane estate, not sumptuousnesse. By these, and suche lyke (as Aristotle would, and I doo like of) the aucthoritie continueth: this onely I adde, that he be suche a one in deede, as Aristotle sayth he shoulde seeme to be: For dissimulation, be it neuer so cunningly and wittilie vsed, can neuer be long hyd from the syght of some among manie whom it toucheth. En∣ter now into the consyderation of thy selfe, see whether thou haue offended in any of these poyntes, and ceasse both to complaine, and maruel. For that a Tyrant being subiect to these vices shoulde be cut of, it is not, but that it should continue, it is maruell. To con∣clude, both Kinges, & al Tyrantes, and as many as are of power, yf they desyre to raigne a long tyme, shoulde diligently haue in minde that saying of Cato in Liuie, Auarice, and riotous∣nesse, haue brought al great Empires to destruction.

Sorow.

Now

my dominion is gonne, I am no better then a priuate man.

Reason.

Thou were an enimie of Citizens, thou art now made a fellow citizen, learne ciuilicie, & confesse the benefite of a meane estate. Both more honestly, and more safely, among good Citi∣zens, then aboue all Citizens, thou mayest lyue. Now thy state is more quiet, thy lyfe more secure, without feare, without suspi∣tions, without watches, without swoord: among which euylles, I knowe not what sweetenesse of lyfe can be hoped for.

Sorowe.

My tyrannie beyng lost, I must lyue as an other common and inferiour person.

Reason.

Choose, whether with lamentati∣ons thou wylt exasperate thy fotune, or asswade it with patience: for verily, yf thou wouldest demaunde of thyne owne minde, and not of the confuset noyse of the multitude, and consider thynges past in silence, thou shouldest fynde, that thou art released, and es∣caped from many euylles. Nowe mayest thou lyue insafetie and quietnesse, and dye in peace, neyther imbrewed with blood, nor drenched in poyson.

Of Castles lost. The .Lxxxij. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

MY strong Castles are taken from me.

Reason.

Tyl now, some seede of tyrannie remayned: which is vtterly gon, thy Castles beyng lost. It is not enough to cutte of a poysoned bough, vnlesse it be plucked vp by the roote. He that trusteth to his Towers, reasseth not to be a Tyraunt.

Sorowe.

My Castle on the Hyll, is taken from me.

Reason.

In all places, Castles are the fetters of freedome: but on Hylles, they are after a sort as Cloudes, out of whiche, your pryde may rattle and thunder downe vpon your Subiectes: therefore, to be spoyled of these, is no lamentable thyng, but rather to be wyshed. For among those thynges whiche the common people call goodes, some thynges there are, wherewith good, and modest mindes also woulde be detayned, and prycked vnto vnlawful∣nesse. Whiche motions, yf thou canst not withstande with the

assistaunce of vertue: it were better to be without the causes of euyls, then by hauing suche thynges, to be allured vnto wicked∣nesse.

Sorowe.

I haue lost a most strong castle.

Reason.

Thou callest it most strong, but the euent proueth it to be but weake. But to speake as it is, in deede thou hast lost a thyng for vse vayne, for keeping troublesome, vnprofitable for thy selfe, and to al thy neyghbours hurtful. Nowe shalt thou begyn both to sleepe quietly thy selfe, and to suffer others to take their rest by thee.

Sorow.

My safe Toure is ouerthrowen.

Reason.

Howe that coulde be safe whiche is destroyed, thynke with your selfe. But I wyl shewe thee a wel fenced and most safe Castle, and yet it hath neyther wal nor turret, nor troublesome prouision of thynges: wouldest thou lyue safely? Then lyue verteously, for nothyng is more safe then vertue. And to lyue wel, I count not to lyue proudely, daintyly, galantly, but iustly, soberly, and mo∣destly. Thou hast neede neyther Castle, nor Towre, whiche make thee not secure, and quiet, but careful, terrible, and trou∣blesome. And what pleasure is it to be feared, and not to be lo∣ued? Neuer heardest thou of that saying of Laberius, common in euery mans mouth? Needes must be feare many, of whom ma∣ny stande in feare. This did he vtter agaynst Iulius Caesar, but more ryghtly may it be spoken agaynst others, both inferiour to hym for power, and more horrible for their crueltie? I see no∣thyng, why so many shoulde desire to be feared. For gratis no man is feared. For both he standes in feare hymselfe, and more dangerous is it for one to feare many, then for many to be afraid of one. It it not better that none do feare thee, and thou no bodie, then for many to feare thee, and thou many? For these thynges cannot be seuered, and alwayes by feare is engendred feare. Wouldest thou haue a reason hereof? Ouid the Poet geueth it thee: Whom a man doth feare, sayth he, he woulde haue come to destruction: and Ennius before his tyme sayde, Whom men doo feare, they hate, whom any doth hate, he wysheth to be destroy∣ed. Many feared thee in thy Castle, and so dyddest thou feare ma∣ny. But thou wylt say, whom dyd I feare? But who is he that feareth not al men, when he begynneth to be feared, espe∣cially them whiche feare hym? For Cicero folowyng Ennius.

Doth saye, They which wilbe feared of them, whom they should feare, must needes be in great feare. I many tymes repeate one thing, for so doth the matter requyre I should, neyther do ye marke, being blynde in this, as in other thynges, that whyle ye contende to be aboue al, ye are vnder al. What is more vile then feare? So al your endeuour endeth on the contrarie part.

Sorow.

I haue lost my Castle whiche I loued so wel.

Reason.

Loue another whiche thou shalt not leese. Wal thy minde about with good intentions, thy lyte with good actions: Place prudence and fortitude before thy gates, iustice and modestie in the turrets, humanitie and clemencie about vpon the walles, set faith, hope, and charitie in the middes of the castle, let prouidence be planted on the top of the hiest towre, a good name in the circuite of God and men, embrace loue, banyshe feare, reuerence the woorthy, ouerpasse the rest without eyther honoring or abhorring them: so neyther shalt thou feare any, nor any feare thee, and more safe∣ly shalt thou lyue in the house of humilitie, then in the towre of glory. This Castle wyl none inuade, this wyl none, neyther can they bereaue thee of, by this shalt thou drawe the wicked to ad∣miration, the good to loue, and to imitation. O howe easie a matter were it to leade a quiet and good lyfe, yf ye woulde not disquiet and make the same troublesome, both to the de∣struction of your selues and others? For al that ye do, is to the ouerthrowe of your selues and your neighbours. And tell me, to what ende serue these your Castles, but to the disquietyng of your selues and others, that neyther you at any tyme can be quiet, but that also, lyke spiders that lay wayte for flyes, ye may insulte ouer them whiche passe by you. All other creatures content them selues with their caues and nestes, man alone, then whom nothing is more proude, nor feareful, seeketh Castles, and buyldeth bulwarkes.

Of olde age. The .lxxxiii. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Am waxen olde.

Reason.

Thou desirest to lyue, and yet art sorie that thou hast lyued, is not this the matter?

Sorowe.

I am olde.

Reason.

Thou wentest euery day forward, and art thou amazed that thou art nowe come to thy wayes ende. It had been more strange, yf thou haddest neuer come to the place whyther thou wast alwayes goyng.

Sorow.

I am olde.

Reason.

Howe can it be otherwyfe, but that by lyuing thou must waxe olde, and by going forward thou must goe on a good way? Diddest thou thinke that thyne age woulde goe backewarde? Tyme, as it is swyft and tarreth not, so is it also irreuocable.

Sorow.

I am become an olde man very soone.

Reason.

I tolde thee that tyme passeth a way, and nowe thou begynnest to beleeue it. It is strange to heare, not onely what difference there is betweene the opinions of diuers men, but also of one man onely. The young man when he thinketh vpon his age to come, iudgeth it very long, whiche the olde man when he looketh backe in∣to it, thinketh to haue been very short. Thynges to come seeme alwayes longer then the present, beyng eyther in deede as short or shorter: whiche the nearer they drawe to an ende, the more vehement alwayes, natural motion groweth to be.

Sorowe.

I am olde.

Reason.

Thou mayest reioyce yf thou art not waxen olde among vices, or yf thou art amended nowe at the last: for then thine olde age is good and profitable, and no small argument of Gods fauour towardes thee. Thou remembrest the communication whiche Caesar had with the olde Egyptian, and prooueth by his olde age, that he had not lyued vnthankeful to the goddes.

Sorowe.

I am become an old man.

Reason.

A very fewe among many are able to say so: for of so many thousand thousandes as are borne, howe many are there that atteyne to olde age? And of them that do, howe many lyue out the lawful tyme that they may be called old?

Sorowe.

I am very olde.

Reason.

It is a myracle to meete with a verie old man, specially if a man

thinke with hym selfe, with how many dangers on steppes he hath passed to that age. The great rarenesse of olde folke, is a great argument of the manyfolde chaunces of this mortal lyfe.

Sorowe.

I am olde.

Reason.

Thou hast runne an hard and daungerous race, it were marueyle but that by this tyme, beyng weerie and desirous to rest, thou were glad to see the ende so nigh.

Sorowe.

I am soone waxen olde.

Reason.

The course of your lyfe is sometyme short, sometyme very short, neuer long, al∣wayes hard, rough and vncertayne, the last part whereof is olde age, and the ende death: what cause hast thou here to complayne alone? Art thou waxen old? By this time then thou oughtest to haue fulfilled the dueties of life, and now rest thy self, seing thou art come to the end thereof. That traueiler were worse then mad, that being weerie and weakened with his long iourney, woulde be content to goe backe agayne. There is nothyng more acceptable to them that are weerie, then their Inne.

Sorowe.

I am aged.

Reason.

The toyles of thy lyfe haue been pleasant vnto thee belike, if thou be sorie thou hast passed them.

Sorowe.

I am an olde man.

Reason.

If thou haddest a delyte to lyue, loe thou hast lyued: what needes thou must do, thou hast fulfilled. And who is so mad that wylbe sorie for the doing of that whiche he wyshed, vnlesse he perceyue that he wyshed a misse? or reioyceth not, y^t that is done alredy, that might not be left vndone, nor be done, without great trauayle? And therefore on euery side thou hast cause to reioyce, whether thou hast obteyned thy wyshed desire, or accomplyshed thy necessarie and payneful duetie.

Sorow.

I am in yeeres, and olde age hath chased away the delites of the body.

Reason.

Enioy the pleasures of the minde, which are as many, and truely more permanent, and do neuer depart but when the soule departeth, to her they cleaue, her they folowe. But bodilye pleasures, when they come they bring offence, and when they depart they leaue behinde them cause of repentance, shame and sorowe Reioyce that thou art dis∣charged and free from them, and geue thankes to thy deliuerer for bringing thee out of the handes of thine enimies, and causing thee do folowe thy duetie, which thou haddest deferred and neglected.

Sorow.

I am olde, and want mine accustomed pleasures.

Reason.

Accustome thy selfe then to new, for olde age hath it proper plea∣sures, whiche when thou hast tasted, thou wylt loath those whiche thou hast lost, & if thou mightest, euen rufe to returne vnto them.

Sorow.

I am olde, and gray headed.

Reason.

The reue∣rende hoarie heares of a vertuous olde man, carie with them not onely more aucthoritie, but also honest delite, then al the filthy pleasures of young men, neyther be thou greeued at the chang∣yng of their colour. For whose senses are so corrupted, or iudg∣ment blynded, that he woulde not rather beholde baskets ful of white Lilies, then hutches full of blacke coales? And yf he were to be transfourmed, had not rather be made a whyte swanne, then a blacke crowe?

Sorowe.

I am olde, and the filthy wrincles haue furrowed my face.

Reason.

The forrowed lande bryngeth foorth the ranker corne, and the lyfe that hath been wel instruc∣ted, yeeldeth the ryper and pleasanter fruite in olde age. If the wrincles of thy face offende thee, frame the countenance of thy minde vnto more comlinesse, whiche wyll neuer be deformed with wrincles, nor altered with yeeres, but rather encrease by continuance, and to be short, wyl do thee more honour, if thou neg∣lect it not.

Sorowe.

I am olde, and become so wrincled and euyl fauoured, that I scarce knowe my selfe.

Reason.

I tolde thee at the begynning of this: Nowe thou wylt haue lesse desire to looke in a glasse, & lesse please thine owne (perhaps) but much lesse the eyes of wanton women, whom to haue a desire to delite, I cannot easily determine whether it tast of greater vanitie, then lasciuiousnesse. But they that séeke for trustinesse, for constancie, for grauitie, for wysedome, do hope more assuredly to fynde them among these wrincles, then where the forehead and cheekes be playne, and smoath, and soft.

Sorow.

I am aged, and the swee∣test part of my lyfe haue I left behynd me.

Reason.

Nay sure∣ly the sowrest: for those thynges that are most wyshed for, are not alwayes best. Many haue desired their owne hurte, which they would not do were not the saying of the Satirike Poet true, There are but fewe that can discerne the true goodes.

Sorowe.

I am olde, and my pleasant dayes are past.

Reason.

The dayes in al tymes are muche one and lyke, but mens mindes do varie, yea one minde disagreeth from it selfe. Hereof it commeth, that

the madnesse of youth on the one side, and the impaciencie of olde age on the other, haue in such sort disturbed the iudgement of this lyfe, that that is counted good, whiche is euyl, and that most ex∣cellent, whiche is woorst of al. As for the dayes, they are of them selues al good, for asmuch as the kyng and creatour of al worldes is good. And although some dayes be hotte, and some cold, some drye, and some moyst, some cloudy, and some cleare, some trou∣blesome, and some calme, yet yf thou haue a respect vnto the beau∣tie of the whole worlde, and the course of nature, they be al good. But yf they be referred vnto you and your iudgement, they are almost al of them euyl, sorowful, doubtful, heauie, troublesome, careful, bitter, plaintile, lamentable, ful of aduersitie. Among these thou tellest me a tale of certayne pleasant ones, I knowe not what, whiche whiles they were present were heauie, and not without their complaintes, and nothing maketh them now seem: pleasant, but that they are past, and the desire thou hast that they shoulde returne, maketh them deare vnto thee, and the rather, for that perhaps they haue caried away with them some thyn∣ges whereby thou settest no small store. A foole commonly lo∣ueth nothyng but that he hath lost.

Sorowe.

I am waren old, but O that my young dayes woulde returne agayne.

Reason.

O no lesse foolyshe then vayne wyshe, as thou meanest: but yf thy vnderstandyng were of hygher matters, then were it not voyde, for it wyl surely come agayne one day, and according as it is writ∣ten. Thyne youth shalbe renewed, as is were the youth of an Eagle.

Sorowe.

I am olde, and my good tyme is past.

Reason.

As euery age is good to the good, so is it euyl to the euyll liuers, vn∣to both sure it is, but short, and very neare to the ende, when as the godly shalbe rewarded for their vertue, and the wycked puni∣shed for their sinnes. Which is then this good tyme wherof thou speakest, whiche is euermore hard and fleeting, but onely in re∣spect that it leadeth to eternitie? Otherwyse yf there were any thyng sweete in it, the swyftnesse thereof in passing away may seeme to abate it: for who can tast a thing wel as he is running? When Darius was in flyght, a draught of foule and stinking water seemed most sweete vnto hym: Thirst, as Cicero thinketh, but as I iudge, feare, had corrupted his tast. Alexander that ban∣quished

hym, folowed hard at his heeles: and swift tyme likewise pursueth you apace. The yeeres runne away, the dayes folow headlong one vpon another, the houres haue wynges, and slyt swyftly, & death standeth before your eies, neyther can ye returne when ye are staied, nor stay when ye are driuen, nor passe further when ye are preuented. Of this way then that is beset with so ma∣ny dangers, and subiect to so many terrours, what part thereof, I pray thee, can be good? But I vnderstand your meanyng: you call that a good age whiche is most apt vnto shame and licentious∣nesse: For this is your manner of speaking, to tearme that good whiche is most agreable to your affections, be those your affecti∣tions neuer so euyll. So doth the theefe cal the chaine good, which he prepareth for the trew mans necke, and the Tirant his citadel, whiche he buildeth to bereaue his subiectes of their libertie, and the witche her pestilent poysons. whiche she mingleth to infect poore innocentes, and the murtherer his blade, wherewith he en∣tendeth to commit slaughter: and so likewyse do you cal that age good, whiche is most conuenient for the thynges that you desire. And therefore, among al them that lament the losse of their fore∣passed dayes, ye shal not finde one to lament his childhood or in∣fancie, which in deede were the best parts of this lyfe, if to be best, were to be farthest from olde age: as ye holde opinion. No not the middle age, nor olde age, which beginneth but nowe, & is yet to be counted greene old age: but it is youth, youth, that ye require, the most dangerous and woorst part of al your life O say ye, the plea∣sant dayes of fyue and twentie yeeres, where are ye become? which ye speake, that your aunciēt filthinesse may be knowen vn∣to al men, how wel ye like of them without repentāce, secking for nothyng els then a conueniēt tyme for them.

Sorowe.

I am old, why should I not sigh with that king in Virgil that sayde, O that Iupiter would restore vnto me my forepassed dayes?

Reason.

But we heare not that euer Socrates, Plato, Fabius, or Cato, samen∣ted for any such matter, and yet they were old men: but I confesse that it is a more rare thing to finde a wise man, then a king. And therefore if king Enander had been a wyse king, that same sigh of his, should not be doubtlesse so cōmonly frequented of our old men now adayes. Foolish old men do sigh, & with heauinesse of minde

cal backe for their youthful dayes, but al in vayne: which they goe about to reuoke, not onely with their secrete wyshes, but also with bootelesse medicines, and cunning woorkemanshyp, to al∣ter the course of vnbridled nature. In whiche poynt Hadriane the Emperour, very pleasantly skoffed at a certayne grayheaded sire, vnto whom he had denyed a sute. And when he sawe hym come agayne to renue his former request, and in the meanewhile had dyed his hoarie haires into a blacke colour, he repelled hym with this answeare: No, goe thy wayes, quoth the Emperour, for I haue denyed the same alredie to thy father.

Sorow.

I am aged, O that I coulde waxe young agayne.

Reason.

Ere∣whyle I tolde thee, that thy youth woulde returne, and nowe I say it is returned. If thou mightest so casily obteyne thy wysh in al thynges, thou shouldest wyshe for nothyng in vayne. The poore man wysheth for ryches, the bondman for freedome, the defor∣med person for beautie, the sicke man for health, the weerie for rest, the banished, to be called home: but he that deserueth the true name of an olde man, cannot wyshe for his youth agayne, for that is a very chyldishe desire.

Sorowe.

I am waxen olde, alas why hath my pleasant youth so soone forsaken me?

Reason.

It is soone gone that is pleasant, and that commeth alwayes to quickely that is payneful. But it is a vayne thyng to wyshe for that which cannot be had, and annoye in the hauing, and would hurt if it returned agayne. Leaue of now thy sighing, for whilst thou continuest in this minde, thou mayst soone become gray∣headed, but neuer an old man: For the desire to be young man old man, what is it other then the verye chyldishnes of old age?

Sorowe.

I am old and crooked.

Reason.

Beholde the earth, and thinke from whence thou camest, and whyther thou shalt: For from thence thou camest, and thither thou must goe agayne. Nature putteth thee in minde both of thy beginning and ending. To the intent thou shouldest not goe astray, the common passage is shewed vnto thee, into which since thou art entred, looke downe vpon it diligently: the manner is, for blynde men to be lead on their way by the hand.

Sorowe.

I am soddenly waxen olde.

Reason.

Nay rather by small and smal, creepingly, slow∣ly, softly, but that whē men thinke vpon nothing, al thynges seeme

to happen sodaynly vnto them, as contrariwyse, when they mind all thynges, nothyng commeth vnlooked for. And yf olde age were a thing to be lamented, then should men lament al the dayes of their lyfe, for through them, as steppes, they trace vnto that.

Sorow.

Alas, I am olde.

Reason.

O vnconstancie of de∣syres, vnto this dyddest thou specially endeuour to attayne, vnto this dyddest thou most couet, and that thou shouldest not reache thereunto dyddest thou much feare, and now that thou art come to it, thou lamentest, which were a monstrous and incredible matter, but that it is now vsual among you. All would fayne come to olde age, but none wyl be content to be olde: but rather ye count olde age miserie, and to be called olde, an iniurie, as yf it were a re∣proch to be aged, which none may iudge so, but they that thinke it a shame to haue lyued: of which sort, I confesse, the number is not smal, from whom notwithstanding, I would haue thee exempted, to the ende thou mayest be the better for our communication. Otherwyse, good counsell can neuer sinke into the hart, although it be abundantly poured into the eares.

Sorowe.

I am waxen aged at length.

Reason.

They that haue susteined losses on the land, on the sea, in warre▪ and by gaming, immediatly perceiue their harmes: but thou onely awakest in the ende, and beginnest to complayne, when as the ende of all complain••es is at hande.

Sorowe.

I am olde.

Rea on.

It is the part of a ••oole, neuer to thynke vpon olde age, but when it is come: For truely, if thou haddest foreseene that it shoulde haue come, or perceyued it com∣myng, thou shouldest with lesse greefe behold it present.

Sorow.

Alas, I am now an ag••d wyght.

Reason.

Lament not for it: thou hast fulfilled an hard charge, thou hast passed through a rough and ragged iourney, and finished an vnpleasant Comedie. And therefore now after the maner of such actions, thou shouldest clap thy handes, and crie plaudite.

Sorowe.

I am an olde man.

Reason.

Hast thou forgotten, how that of late dayes, one that was very familiar with thee, expressed the effect hereof ex tempore, not as a new saying, but as comparable vnto any in tymes past? For when a certaine freende of his sayde vnto hym, I am sory for thee, for I perceiue thou waxest olde, I woulde thou were in as good estate as when I knewe thee fyrst: he answered suddenly,

Seeme I not vnto thee foolysh enough, but that thou must wysh me more foole then I am? Take no care for me, I pray thee, for that I am olde, but rather be sorie for me y^t euer I was young. O how much vnderstanding is there conteined in this short answere, whiche none can conceiue, but he that hath tasteth the commodi∣ties of this age, and remembreth the miseries of y^e other? Reioyce therefore in thine owne felicitie, although it be also true, that often tymes good hapneth vnto men against their wylles, and euyll vn∣wished for. Doubtlesse, vnto a good man that loueth veriue & ha∣teth fond affections, one whole day of this age, which thou misli∣kest of, is more acceptable, then an whole yeere of retchlesse youth.

Sorow.

Alas, I am aged.

Reason.

If thou continue in this mind, it may be truly sayd of thee, which is verified of y^e com∣mon people, that thou art not so much wretched now thou art old, as that thou liuedst miserable, that so fondly thou complaynest thereof, now at the very ende of thy life. Leaue of your complaints now at length, you whining generation, and willingly yeelde to the necessitie of nature, since there is nothing to be lamented, that her immoueable lawe hath determined. For what is more natu∣ral for a man that is borne, then to lyue vntyl he be old, and when he is olde to dye? But you, being forgetfull of your estate, doo es∣chew them both, and yet of necessitie you must taste of the one, or of the both. And yf ye woulde escape them both, then must you haue abstained from the third, and beleeue me, not haue ben borne at all. As soone as your bodyes are growen into yeeres, let your mindes waxe olde also, and let not the old Prouerbe be euermore verified in you, to wit, That one minde, is able to consume many bo∣dyes. Suffer without grudging your body and your mind to con∣tinue together to the ende: as they came in, so let them depart out of the worlde together, and when the one draweth forwarde, let not the other drawe backwarde. Your dallying is but in vayne, you must needes depart, and not tarrie heere, and returne no more, whiche may seeme vnto you but a small matter, in con∣sideration of the immortalitie of your soules, and resurrection of your bodyes, whiche you looke for, aboue suche as eyther looke for but the one, or for neyther. In vayne, I say, ye stryue agaynst the streame, and goe about to shake of the yoake of mans frayltie,

whiche ye vndertooke when ye were borne.

Sorowe.

I am olde, and the strength of my body is decayed.

Reason.

If the force of thy minde be encreased, it is well, and thou hast made a good exchange: For there is no man ignorant, vnlesse he lacke a minde, that greater & better exploites may be atchieued by the strength of the minde, then of the body. But yf the strength of the minde, as oftentymes it hapneth, be deminished through slouth∣fulnesse, then hast thou, I confesse, lyued vnprofitably, whiche is thine owne fault, and not thine ages.

Sorowe.

I am olde, and I cannot follow my businesse.

Reason.

Yf there be any thing to be done by the minde, by so muche the better an olde man may doo it, by howe muche he hath the more experience and knowledge in thynges, and is lesse subiect to passions, and his minde more free from all mischiefes and imperfections: as for other matters, olde men can not deale in them, neyther becom∣meth it them to busie them selues that way, who haue alredie layd all bodyly labour asyde. But yf they continue in it, and wyl not be withdrawen, then doo they renue the auncient rid: culus exam∣ple of a Romane olde man, who beyng commaunded by the Prince to surceasse from labour, for that his impotent olde age at the one syde, and his great ryches on the other, requy∣red the same, he was as heauie and sorowfull, as yf he had mour∣ned for some freende that was dead, and caused all his housholde semblably to mourne: A strange old man, that abhorred rest as a certaine resemblance of death, when as in deede there is nothyng more conuenient for an olde man, then rest, and nothyng more vnseemely, then a labouryng and carkyng olde man, whose lyfe ought to be a patterne of all quietnesse and tranquilitie. Thou mayest learne moreouer of the Philosophers, what, and howe pleasaunt a thyng it is, for vertuous olde men to lyue, as they tearme it, in the course of theyr forepassed lyfe, whiche notwithstandyng, the greatest number neuer accompli∣she••h, but dyeth before.

Sorowe.

My yeeres are quickly gone, and I am become old.

Reason.

Your beautie, health, swiftnesse, strength, yea all that euer ye haue, passeth away: but vertue re∣mayneth, neuer geuyng place to olde age nor death. In this most assured good, ye ought at the beginning to haue stayed your

selues, whiche at the ende to doo, I confesse, is more difficult, but there is no age that refuseth the studie of vertue, whiche the har∣der it is, so muche the more it is glorious. Many haue scarce lear∣n••d of long tyme, in their olde age to be wyse, and knowe them selues, and yet better late, then neuer whiche although it be but smally profitable now at the last cast of the lyfe, and at the very poynt of death, yet doo I iudge it well bestowed vppon that one houre, to be passed without horrour and fearefulnesse, yf so be it were not exerc. sed in all the whole lyfe tyme before. For neyther was he borne in vayne, that dyeth wel, nor liued vnprofitably, that ended his lyfe blessedly.

Sorowe.

I am olde, and at deathes doore.

Reason.

Death is at hand alike vnto all men, and ma∣nie tymes nearest there where he seemeth furthest of. There is none so young, but he may dye to day, none so olde, but he may lyue another yeere, yf nothing els happen vnto him, but old age.

Sorowe.

I am throughly olde.

Reason.

Thou art rather throughly rype. If Apples coulde feele and speake, woulde they complayne of theyr ripenesse? or rather, woulde they not reioyce, that they are come to the perfection for whiche they were made? As in al other thinges, so likewise in age, there is a certayne ripe∣nesse, whiche is tearmed olde age: the same that thou mayest see truely to be so, the age and death of young men is called bitter, and is bitter in deede: contrary vnto this bitternesse is ripenesse, which being commended in Apples, and al mauer fruites, is most commendable in man. Not that I am ignorant, that many fruites do wither before they waxe ripe, but that is not the fault of the age, but the peru••rsenesse of nature, not of all, but of many, I meane in men, who beyng borne to that whiche is good, doo stoutely en∣deuour to the contrarie. And therefore, yf there be any droppe of noble iuyce in thee, thou oughtest now to be ripe, and withour all feare, to attende vntyll the hand of the mower cutte thee downe to the ground. That is not death whiche thou fearest, but the ende of troubles, and begynnyng of lyfe: not death, I say, but an hard ende of lyfe, whereunto fewe arriue in a calme tyde, but all for the most part naked, weepyng, and wrecked on the sea. In the middes of thyne olde age, takyng in hand an easie vtage towardes thine ende, thou shalt be brought by a prosperous gale, through the

troublesome surges of worldly affayres, into the calme porte of securitie. Now is it tyme for thee to run a ground, and moare vp thy weerie barke vppon the shore, and whyther so euer thou tur∣nest thee, to thynke vpon thine ende. This shalt thou fynde more profitable for thee, then as fooles vse to doo, to blame good age, and nature, which is a most gracious mother.

Of the Gout. The .Lxxxiiij. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Am vexed with the loathsome Gout.

Reason.

Knowest thou not the nature of old age? It commeth not alone, but most tymes bryngeth an armie of diseases and sicknesses with it.

Sorowe.

I am greeued with the paynefull gout.

Reason.

Thou art troubled in the extreamest and most vile partes of thy body: what if it were neere thy hart, or head?

Sorowe.

The gout so greeueth me, that I cannot goe.

Reason.

The wande∣ring minde of man, needeth to be restrayned with a bridle. One man is kept vnder by pouertie, another by imprisonment, another by sicknesse. Fortune playing with thee, hampereth thee by the feete: This is not the gout, but rather fetters, and therefore learne to stand styll.

Sorowe.

The gout maketh me vnfyt for af∣fayres.

Reason.

Vnfyt I thinke in deede to run, to leape, to daunce, to play at tennice: doest thou thinke that thou wast borne vnto these pastimes? But yf thou be so ignorant, know this, that thou wast horne vnto greater matters, whiche thou mayest very wel accomplysh, if thy head do not ake, nor thy hart be sicke. Thou mayest applie the studie of the liberall sciences, ensue godlinesse and vertue, keepe floelitie and iustice, contemne this frayle body, and the transitorie worlde, hate vices, loue vertues, honour freend∣shyp, helpe thy Countrey by counsell and aduice: These are the dueties of a good man, and herein what can fetters hynder thee?

Sorowe.

I am weakned with the gout.

Reason.

Perhaps thy disease wyl not suffer thee to fight agaynst thyne enimies, but it wyl against vices, which is as paineful and common as warre. And what knowe we, whether this bodily payne, agaynst whiche thou fightest, be layde vppon thee, for the exercise of thy minde?

Sorowe.

I can not stand vpon my feete.

Reason.

See then what hope thou hast to conceiue of the residue of the buyldyng,

when thou perceiuest the very foundation to be so weake? watche and take heede, that the fall oppresse thee not at vnwares: make redy thy packes, and prepare thy selfe to flight.

Sorow.

I am marueilously troubled with the gout.

Reason.

This disease, as it is commonly reported, vseth to accompany rych men. Loe, thou hast an other remedy, be of good comfort, for either the sweetenes of thy riches shal asswage the sharpnes of thy griefe, or y^e bitternes of thy pouertie driue it away: and so thou shalt eyther find comfort, or an ende. If these faile thee, that wyl come at length, which shall not deceiue thee, which is also the ende of al troubles & aduersiue.

Sorow.

I am oppressed with the paine of my feete.

Reason.

If thou wylt haue remedy, thou must eyther be poore in deede, or at least wise liue poorely. Pouerty, which is y^e true purifiyng of mens bodies, as some say, hath deliuered many from this infirmitie: and some haue been cured by frugality or sparing, whiche by an other tearme I may cal volūtary, or fained, or imagined pouerty. Thou hast seene some cured by perpetual abstinence from wine. Thus it hapneth, that payne with payne, and one nayle is driuen out with an other, as sayth the olde Prouerbe. There is no payneful malady cured without payne. And moreouer, yf thou wylt be at one with this sicknesse & many other, thou must proclaime open warre; not only against wine, but also venerie. But what doo I? I promised remedies for the mind, & not for the body, & yet notwithstanding, I suppose, I haue taught thee the only cure of this disease. If thou like it, vse it: yf not, the vse of fomentations otherwyse framed, wyll not deceyue thee: For pacience is the most effectuall, and present, and many tymes the only remedie in aduersitie.

Sorow.

The paine of the gout hath made me crooked.

Reason.

Then art thou vnable to goe, and lesse meete to take payne: but not vnfitte to doo other thinges, not onely apparteyning to thy pri∣uate householde, but also concernyng the Common wealth, yea, & if neede so require, of a Kingdome or Empire. Wherfore, this onely saying of Septimus Seuerus, Emperour of Rome, is very famous and notable: who beyng an olde man, and muche subiect to the gout, when he had bewrayed the conspiracie of the nobili∣tie, that woulde haue made his sonne Emperour, whyle he was yet lyuing, the aucthours of this sedition, and also his some,

beyng apprehended, and standing all dismayde, trembling & sha∣king before his seate, looking for nothing but present death: Se∣uerus lyfting vp his hand to his head, At length, quoth he, Ye shal vnderstand that it is my head, and not my feete that do gouerne.

Sorowe.

I am marueylously, poore wretch, tormented with the gout.

Reason.

Do not be wayle only the greefe and sharpnes of thynges, but if there haue any pleasure or sweetenesse hapned vnto thee by them, thinke vpon it, whereby thou mayest comfort thy selfe in this aduersitie. Among all the euyll conditions of the common multitude, this is not the least, that as they are whining and impatient in aduersitie, so are they forgetful and vnthankfull in prosperitie, then which there is nothing more iniurious. For why? for example sake, who is able with indifferent eares, eyther to heare the Emperour Seuerus, of whom we spake erwhyle, complayne of his gout, or Domitian of his baldnesse, whiche he tooke very greeuously, or Augustus when he was olde, of the weakenesse of his left eye, or Iulius Caesar of his feare in the night season, and troublesome dreames, or, to be short, other very happie & honourable men, in such sort complayning of one default of na∣ture or other, yf a man may so tearme it, or iniurie of fortune, that they myght seeme to be vnmindfull of their Empire, and ryches, and conquestes, and so many and great commodities, and yet to remember that they were men, for whom in this lyfe to looke or hope for perfect and sounde felicitie, is but a meere madnesse. To mingle the sweete with the sowre, is a peculiar medicine agaynst the gout, and a common remedie agaynst all diseases, which thou shalt fynde to be very effectuall, and wylt confesse to be good and vertuous counsayle, if thou followe the aduice of that godly olde man, who once attayned vnto great prosperitie, and afterwarde tasted extreame aduersitie: who by meanes of the benefites which he receyued at Gods handes, learned to take all affliction in good part, although that same hand can neyther make nor geue any euyl: but he had only a respect vnto the common opinion of men.

Sorow.

The gout keepeth me downe in my bedde, as yf I were bounde with knottes that can neuer be vndoone.

Reason.

Whyle thou lyes, thy minde may stande vp, and suruey the whole heauen, earth, and sea.

Of Scabbes. The .Lxxxv. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Am greeued with paynefull Scabbes.

Reason.

I maruel now no longer, if thou take in yl part those that be greefes only, seeing thou also bewailest that wherewith there is some sweete∣nesse mingled.

Sorow.

I am vexed with the greeuous scab.

Reason.

Some say, that it is holsome to be scabbed. But for that I wyl not cal so woful a thyng by so good a name, I tearme it a token of health, or the way leading to health. It is but a gentle thing, for that it is not long in comming foorth, whose issuing is somtime ioyned with no small tickling.

Sorow.

The dry scab molesteth me.

Reason.

Thou needest now no clock nor watch, for the same wyl awake thee in the night, and cal thee vp vnto thy necessarie & honest affayres. For there is none so slouthful, whom the payneful scab wyl not styr vp, and make wakeful.

Sorow.

I am vexed with scabbes.

Reason.

A base disease, but which hath a noble cure: labour, paine, heate, bathes, watching, diet, these are medicines against scabbes. If these wyl do no good, thou must flee to the remedie of pacience, which in al diseases is the most profi∣table salue.

Sorowe.

I am troubled with the paynefull and fyl∣thie scab.

Reason.

I denie neither of them. And whereas Publius sayd, that the sore feete of one that had the Gout, were a paynefull rest, so on my woorde mayest thou say, that a payre of scabbed handes, are a greeuous businesse. But what wylt thou say to this? The loathsommer the disease is, the comlier is the pa∣tience? And how yf out of a small discommoditie, thou reape great profite? This is one of the thinges, that especially engender a con∣tempt of this body, then whiche is nothing more necessarie for mankind.

Sorow.

I am al ouer infected with scabbes.

Reason.

That thou art al scabbed, I thinke it be too true, and I stande in great feare thereof: But perhaps this is more then thou wouldest haue sayd. For thou meanest it of thy whole body, but there is an other kind of inuisible scabbe in your mindes, to wit, couetousnesse and sensualitie, and a certaine vehement uching to reuenge and complaine, which the more it is scratched, the more it rageth. This itche ye neyther feele, or craue to haue cured, so muche is your care lesse ouer your soules, then ouery our bodyes.

Of watching. The .lxxxvi. Dialogue.

SOROW.

I Cannot sleepe.

Reason.

Watch then, and reioyce that the ryme of thy lyfe is prolonged: For betweene sleepe and death there is small difference, but that the one lasteth but for a tyme, the other is perpetual. And therefore I cannot tel whe∣ther it be not sayde properly enough, that sleepe is a short death, and death a long and euerlasting sleepe.

Sorowe.

I haue lost my sleepe.

Reason.

It must be prouoked agayne, not by force, but by fayre meanss. If thou thinke to procure it, it wyl not be constrained. Goe some other way to woorke, geue rest to thyne head, and trouble not thy minde with cares, and it wyll come vnlooked for: when the minde is loose, and the body weerie, sleepe wyl came stealyng on.

Sorowe.

My sleepes are often broken of.

Reason.

Do as it is sayde Augustus Caesar was woont to do: when thou wakest out of sleepe, haue some about thee to re∣nue it agayne by readyng or tellyng of tales. But if it be long of earnest and vrgent cares, lay them aside, and sleepe wyl come: of whiche sort of cares Virgil speaketh where he sayth, that good cares do breake sweete sleepes.

Sorowe.

I can take no rest in sleepe.

Reason.

Neyther shalt thou then be terrified with dread∣fuldreames, nor surprised with suddeyne feare in the night. And al∣though Aristotle hold opinion, that the visions whiche wyse men see in their sleepe, be good, & true in deede it is: Neuerthelesse, the one of these, who was nothing inferiour vnto hym in wit, but of greater aucchorine, & the other in al respectes his equal in holinesse and pacience, whom I mentioned erewhyle, endured great extre∣mitie and trouble in their dreames. What others haue fealt and suffered, euery one is priute vnto hymselfe, and can cal his owne bed to wytnesse, of the illusions and troubles whiche he hath sus∣teyn••d. Truely the one of these was woont in his latter dayes to be terrified in his dreames, as it is wrytten of hym. The other I made mention of not long since, where I entreated of rest and quietnesse: who among other troubles of this lyfe, complayneth of his suddayne frightyng in sleepe, and the terrour of his visions

and drcames.

Sorowe.

I slepe not so wel as I was woont.

Reason.

Then thou lyuest longer then thou wast woont: for thus the learned say, that as sleepe is death, so watchyng is lyfe.

So∣row.

Sickenesse hath dryuen away my sleepe.

Reason.

Then health wyl bryng it agayne.

Sorowe.

Loue hath banni∣shed my sleepe.

Reason.

Thou speakest one thing twyse: For loue is a sickenesse, and the greatest sickenesse that is.

Sorowe.

Feare hath bannished away my sleepe.

Reason.

Se∣curitie wyl reuoake it.

Sorow.

Olde age hath taken away my sleepe.

Reason.

Death approchyng wyl restore it.

Of the vnquietnesse of dreames. The .lxxxvii. Dialogue.

SOROW.

I Am disquieted with dreames.

Reason.

If that be true whiche a certayne wyse man sayth, that dreames doo folow great cares, whiche is also confirmed by your wryters: then cut of the cause of the mischeefe, abandon cares, and dreames wyl vanish away, To what purpose serue your manyfold cares, whiche are to none effect in so short a lyfe, whereof in the begyn∣nyng I promised to entreate, and to declare that it is bootlesse to forment it, and make it troublesome, and through your owne follie to disquiet your rest with dread••full dreames? Wyl ye ouercome gods prouidence with your owne counsel? and do ye not perceyue howe your madnesse and cousultations of that tyme, whiche is not onely beyond your iudgement, but also your knowledge, are laughed at from an high? Ney∣ther do ye hacken vnto Horace, exclayming and crying out, that God of purpose doth close vp and hyde the issue of the tyme to come, with the darkenesse of ignorance, and doth laugh hym to scorne, yf mortal man make hast and runne beyonde that whiche is ryght and lawfull. Ye spend all your tyme vpon your owne destruction, beyng sorowful for the tyme past, carefull for the tyme present, and fearefull and tremblyng for the tyme to

to come, and ye gather vnto your selues your handes ful of these superfluous and vnnessary cares, worthy of your desertes: by watchyng ye bryng vnto your selues labour and paynes, and by sleeping, dreames. But yf peraduenture, that be true, that ey∣ther the nature of man, or els sinne constrayneth the mynde, be∣yng free and voyde of cares, to be disquieted with dreames: is it not also as true, that when a thousand dreames are seene, yet per∣haps not one of them is true? Sins that we are then deceyued with eyther of them, it is better to be disquieted with dreames, then to be pleased and delighted with them, and to dreame of hurtful and vnpleasant thynges, then of sweete and pleasant. For the deceite of a sorowful dreame is ioyful, and the appearance of a merie and a cheareful dreame, sorowful.

Sorow.

I am wee∣ried with dreames.

Reason.

Despyse al this foolyshnesse, and thou shalt take thy rest. If thou canst not do that, then comfort thy selfe with those companions whiche haue suffered the lyke: name∣ly with these twayne of whom I tolde thee euen nowe, when thou dyddest complayne of watchyng.

Of Importunate renowme. The .lxxxviii. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Am more famous and better knowen then I would.

Reason.

Doest thou despyse that, whiche the greatest captaynes, and Prynces, the Philosophers and Poetes haue wyshed for? For what is ment by so many labours, what is pursued with so great warres and studies? And the most excellent Artificers do intend nothyng els. This doth Phidias shewe in the image of Minerua, the whiche woorke of al that euer were wrought with the handes of men, I haue placed and accompted as cheefe, or surely amongst the cheefest, vpon the which when he was forbydden to wryte any thyng, he dyd so ingraue his owne countenaunce vpon the buckler of the

image, that it myght both be knowen of al men, and also coulde by no deuise or policy be plucked from thence, vnlesse the whole woorke shoulde be dissolued. He onely wyshed to be knowen for the rewarde of his labour, for yf any man shoulde say, that artificers do not intende and thynke vpon their renowme, but only respect their money, I would peraduenture graunt it in the common sort to be so, but in the most famous and best, I deny it. There are many tokens and argumentes of this thyng, for they do so persist and continue at their woorke, yea with the losse of tyme and other hindrances, and they dispyse gayne, to the ende that nothyng may deminishe their credite and good name. The noble constancie of these foure Artificers, hath espe∣cially proued this to be true, who beyng called to come to that most renowmed woorke, whiche Artemisia Queene of Caria with great cost and charges caused to be set vp in the memorial of her husbande, when as the Queene her selfe dyed in the meane whyle before the woorke was finished, at whose handes the re∣warde and pryce thereof was looked for, yet they continued and went forward on their woorke with one consent vnto the ende, intendyng nothyng els nowe but their owne fame and reputati∣on, and a continual remembrance of the deede. Therefore al men desire honoure and renowme: and doest thou then looke aboue al other, to purchase them with smal trouble and greefe?

Sorowe.

Yet truely, I also desire to be famous amongst my posteritie, but I refuse it of those whiche are of my tyme and age.

Reason.

Why so, when as this is greater, and by so much the harder mat∣ter, since enuie doth interrupt and infert the fame of those that are present.

Sorow▪

Because amongst those that are absent, there is true and perfect glory, none stirreth or striueth agaynst them, no man withstandeth them: but amongst those that are pre∣sent, there is both gaynesaying, and hartburnyng, and labour: For great labour is the preseruer of great same, as one very aptly and fitly sayeth.

Reason.

Thou art eyther to nice or els to sluggyshe, which wouldest hope for any great and notable thing, without laboure and paynes, when as for the least and smallest thynges, so many labours are to be susteyned.

Sorowe.

I true∣ly do not refuse labours, but it is weerisonmesse, and loathsom∣nesse,

that I hate. For who can abyde dayly to be visited, to be wayred vpon, and compassed about of the multitude, to be sued vnto, and to be disquieted and troubled, and in the meane tyme carelesse and necligent of hym selfe, to spend whole dayes, and a great part of a short lyfe, vpon other, and to let his owne necessary affayres lye vndone, and so to serue another mans pleasure, and not his owne turne? The whiche inconuenience and trouble, yf it had hapned at the first, I had neuer atteyned vnto this fame whiche doth now muche molest me. But nowe it is tyme for me to restrayne the notable indeuours of my mind, and to stay my excellent affayres it were not nowe inconueni∣ent and out of season.

Reason.

Truely I do not deny that to be so as thou sayest, and though it be harde in deede, yet is it tolle∣table, yea to be enuyed, and yet to be wyshed for. But howsoe∣uer t•• shalbe taken in thine opinion, it is almost ineuitable: For what way is there to eschewe it, vnlesse it be eyther by pryde or slouthfulnesse? Whereof the one shal dryue away the honest desire of those that gladly secke vnto thee, and the other wyl vt∣terly extinguish it. If there be any other remedy at al, it is the fliyng of cyties, albeit yf it be true renowme, flight wyl not serue, for fame foloweth her possessor whyther soeuer he shal goe, and wheresoeuer he shal remayne, she wyl be with hym. He that hath been famous in the cities, shal neyther in the countrey, nor in the wooddes, leaue of to be renowmed, the brightnesse of fame cannot be hidden, it shyneth in the darkenesse, and draw∣eth the eyes and mindes of men vnto it euerywhere. Hast thou not hearde of Dandanus, a most famous olde man of the Brach∣mans, howe he was often visited by Alexander of Macedo∣nie, euen in the farthest desattes of the Indians? and lykewyse of Diogines Ciuicus, who was frequented also by the same kyng, euen vnto his tubbe, whiche he vsed for an hospital, to be remooued and tumbled at his wyl? Haue ye not heard that Sci∣pio Africanus was visited, in his filthy, forsaken, and baren vil∣lage of Literne, by those quiet and gentle theeues, for the ho∣nour and reuerence of his vertue, and that he was accompanyed by the cheefe captaynes of his enimies beyonde the seas? Hast thou not heard also, how Titus Liuius was folowed vnto the far∣thest

partes of Fraunce, & far from the vttermost confines of Spaine. vnto the cytie of Rome. Lastly, hast thou not heard howe that the holy fathers were resorted vnto as farre as the innermost and feareful dennes of the wyldernesse, by the Romane Empe∣rours? I speake nothyng of Solomon, but rather demaund what visitations any famous man euer wanted? Freendes and ac∣quaintance are delighted with mutuall communication and talke togeather: and strangers are recreated only with the sight, and beholdyng one another. For the presence of noble and renow∣med men, is a pleasant and delectable thyng, the whiche none tasteth, but he that enioyeth it: this do not thou call payneful, but I graunt it to be difficult, marie therewithal to be also glorious.

Sorow.

I am worne and consumed away with renowme.

Reason.

If thou wylt cast away this fame, vertue also is for∣saken, from whose roote it spryngeth: But yt thou wylt not do so, then is it needfull that thou beare this burthen with a patient mind, vnto the which many could neuer aspire with al their study, cost, and charges, al their life long: And thou peraduenture hast attayued thervnto. Suffer therfore thy selfe to be seene of those that would not desire to see thee, vnlesse they did loue thee, & thy good name.

Sorowe.

Many bring me into renowme euery where, euen vnto my greefe and loathsomnes.

Reason.

What then, haddest thou rather to be despised, and counted an abiect?

Sorow.

Innumerable men do honour me, euen vnto my great payne and greefe.

Reason.

Acknowledge then the gyft of God: he doth honour thee, to the ende he might both prouoke thee to honour hym, and also that it myght repent thee that at a∣ny tyme thou dishonouredst hym: For al honour, and euery good thyng, what soeuer is done of man to man, is of God.

Sorow.

Immoderate honour, and continual visitation, is a very trouble∣some thyng.

Reason.

I graunt this also: but loue and re∣uerence, whiche are the rootes of this trouble, are very sweete and pleasant: yf thou wylt apply the tast of thy minde vnto these, they wyl beginne to sauour wel, whiche nowe do thus disquiete thee. Temper therefore the bitter with the sweete, and not in this only, but in al thynges whatsoeuer this present lyfe bryngeth, wherein thou shalt not easily fynde honye wherewith gal is

not myngled, and more often the bitter exceedeth the sweete in quantitie.

Sorowe.

I am weeried with to muche renowme.

Reason.

That truely often tymes hapneth, whereof we haue also knowen, that woorthy and diuine Vespasian, triumphing to haue complayned, when as he was greeued with the solem∣nitie of the glorious shewes, blaming hym selfe whiche had so baynely desired a triumph in his olde age, whiche was ney∣ther due to hym, nor of his auncetours hoped for. And although renowme it selfe, be not to be wyshed for of it owne nature, yet it is to be borne withal, and loued, the causes whereof are ver∣tue and industry: neyther are those to be forsaken at any tyme, to the ende thou mayest want this: for honest labour, is a thyng muche more glorious, then sluggysh rest and quietnesse.

Sorow.

I am muche offended with those that salute me by the way.

Reason.

Thou hast the Philisopher Crispus a partaker also of this greefe. Nay rather, whom canst thou finde at al, besides those that take pleasure and delight in the common blastes and flatteries of the people, as the Poet Maro speaketh? Yet that noble man hath complayned hereof, I beleue, for that he sawe how the common and sudden salutation of the peop•••• did trouble his mynde, beyng alwayes most earnestly geuen to studie: for suche a one he is reported to haue been, and as he hym selfe saith, was therwith welnigh brought to his death. But there is nothing whereof thou shouldest now complayne, that whiche thou diddest wysh for, hath hapned vnto thee, that is, that thou mightest be knowen vnto the common people, otherwyse thou shouldest not lye so open to the meetinges of those that salute thee. Thou migh∣test haue hydden thy selfe, thou mightest haue taken thy rest, thou mightest haue reioyced and delighted thy selfe in thyne owne bo∣some, as they say, the which some do define to be the best kinde of lyfe. But you would faine be knowen & famous in great cities, and therwithal be both idel, free, & quiet, which is nothyng els then to wi••h that ye might remayne vnmooueable in a ship, in the greate tempest & waues of the sea. Lastly, it is the part of a proud & arro∣gant person, not to be able to suffer paciently y^e speech of his freen∣des that reuerence & obey him, seeing that the reproches of your enimies are to be suffered paciently.

Of sorowe conceyued for the euyl maners of men. The .lxxxix. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Am sorie for the eu••l maners and conditions of men.

Reason.

If t••••u be moued with loue tow••rdes them, I prayse thee, but yf with anger and indignation, I prayse thee not. For what apparteyneth it vnto thee, what other men; manners are, so that thou thy selfe be good? Doest thou nowe first of all perceyue the conditions of the common people? Or els doest thou thinke that thy lyfe hath prouided to lytle businesse for thee, vnl••sse thou haue a care ouer the lyues of other men, and so thou take that in hande, whiche neyther art, nor nature hath been a∣ble at any tyme to bryng to passe, wherein thou mayest hope for nothyng, but paynes and greefes? Yet these haue been the studies & cares of certaine philosophers, of whom one going foorth into the common assemblyes, dyd alwayes weepe, and the other on the contrarie part, euermore laughed at mens manners, and neyther of them without a cause: howbeit, that whiche the one dyd, tasted of compassion and godlynesse, and that whiche the other dyd, of pryde and insolencie.

Sorow.

Who can abyde these vnruly and deceitfull dispositions, and qualities of men?

Reason.

I had rather that thou shouldest be dishonested by force, thou wouldest then abyde them if it were necessary. Thou that canst not suffer others to be deformed, and out of order, yet suffer them to be apparelled as it pleaseth them, and be thou apparelled as it liketh thee best, and so thou shalt well reuenge thy selfe. For honest qual••tyes do no lesse offend wanton eyes, then vnhonest behauiour, the sober and modest beholders. Let them therefore ioyne pleasure with their affayres, but mingle thou honestie with thy matters The lyght is no where more ac∣ceptable then in darkenesse, and vertue in no place bryghter then amongst vices. Why therefore doest thou complayne, seeing o∣ther mens filthinesse shal increase thy coomlinesse?

Sorowe.

Who can endure paciently these diseases of mans minde, and cheefely these that are enuious?

Reason.

Leaue the enuious

men to them selues, thou needest require none other formentor for them, for they sufficiently afflict them selues, both with theyr owne aduersitie, and are consumed away with others prosperitie. Men ought not therefore to pittie those that faynt and languyshe of theyr owne free wyll, seeyng the diseases of the mynde are not so infectious, as those of the bodye, for they goe not vn∣to those that woulde not wyllyngly haue them: but a noble harte, is rather inflamed vnto vertue, with the mislykyng and hatred of vices.

Sorowe.

Who coulde suffer so muche pryde and insolencie?

Reason.

Humilitie is so muche the more acceptable, by howe muche it is besieged with grea∣ter pryde.

Sorowe.

Who could suffer so many deceiptes, so many craftes of couetousnesse? or who coulde beare with so many kyndes of lustes and desyres?

Reason.

Eschewe those thynges that doo displease thee woorthyly, and take heede that others doo not condemne that same in thee, whiche thou myslykest in them.

Sorowe.

Who coulde abyde this kyngdome of gluttonie?

Reason.

Sobr••etie is most beautifull amongst those that are moderate: Where all are of equall goodnesse, there none excelleth other.

Sorowe.

Who coulde abyde patiently so many lyes?

Reason.

Yf thou be offended with lyes, endeuour thy selfe to speake the trueth.

Sorowe.

Who coulde beare with so many tyrannies euerie where?

Reason.

Neyther weapons nor ryches, can de∣lyuer thee: onely vertue is free.

Sorowe.

I hate all the worlde.

Reason.

It behoueth thee rather, to haue pittie on the miserable, then to hate them, vnlesse, as I haue sayde be∣fore, they are miserable of their owne accorde. But leaue vnto the worlde the manners thereof, and doo thou studie to reforme thyne owne, and cause mens eyes that are fastened vpon others, to be turned vppon thee: so shalt thou both escape griefe, and also, when thou canst not amende the worlde, at leastwyse thou shalt redresse thy selfe, whiche is a thyng that thou canst, and oughtest to doo. Thus is there then no cause wherefore thou shouldest thynke thy selfe to haue ben borne in vayne.

Of small greefes of sundrie thynges. The .XC. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Vtterly hate the troublesome noyse & cryes of diuers thinges in Cities.

Reason.

Then make muche of the wooddes, and quietnesse of the countrey: those thinges which cannot be esca∣ped, why shouldest thou goe about to auoyde?

Sorowe.

I am weery with the strife and contentions of the common people.

Reason.

As long as thou doest geue eare to the common sorte of people, thou shalt neuer be at rest.

Sorow.

I am much trou∣bled with the noyse of the common people.

Reason.

Esteeme not the woordes of the commonaltie, for almost whatsoeuer it speaketh, it is eyther nothyng, or els false. But yf thou canst not auoyde al their noyse and disordered voyces, heare them notwith∣standyng, though none otherwise then as the bellowyng of Oxen, or the bleatyng of Sheepe, or the roring of Beares: for what are they other, then the voyces either of came or wild beastes?

Sorow.

I am sore troubled with the terrible outrage of the common peo∣ple.

Reason.

Imagine in thy mind, that thou hearest the sound of ouerflowing waters, which fal vpon rockes: perswade thy selfe, that either thou art besyde the Well Gorgia, where a most cleere Riuer floweth out of a most horrible denne with woonderfull noyse: or where as the gulfes of Reatis, whiche the Riuer Nar carieth into Tyber, doo fal downe from an hygh hyl: or whereas the Riuer Nilus powreth downe violently, to those places which are called Catadupa, as Cicero sayth: or where as Hister, as in lyke maner it is reported, rusheth into the Sea ••uxinum: or to be short, where the steepe rockes of Liguria doo accorde to the flowynges of the Mount Aetna, when as the South winde waxeth fierce: or as the crooked and wrested Charibdis, agreeth with the barkyng Silla in Sicill whyr••epooles. Eustome wyll bryng to passe, that thou shalt heare that with a certayne pleasure, whiche thou nowe iudgest to be most tedious.

Sorow.

I am vexed with the barkyng of Dogges.

Reason.

He that hath learned to suffer quietly the brawlyng of the common people, can not myslyke the barkyng of Dogges, for there are

neyther so many other kyndes of Dogges, neyther are they so madde and furious.

Sorowe.

An vnrulie Horse, that is al∣way neyghing, an vnfaythfull Seruaunt, that is euermore fro∣warde, are not onely greeuous and troublesome vnto me, but also dangerous.

Reason.

I haue tolde heretofore, what I dyd thynke of both those kyndes of creatures, and I am styll of the same opinion: I adde hereunto somewhat, to the ende therefore thou mayest auoyde the greefe and trouble of thy Horse, yf no∣thyng els can helpe thee, then become a foote man: and that thy Seruauntes may agree and yeelde vnto thee, thou shalt bryng it to passe, when thou accountest hym not woorthy to be lamen∣ted, whom thou art well able to lacke.

Sorowe.

I am annoy∣ed with Flyes.

Reason.

Take heede, least that through the annoyance of Flyes, thou be made a Flye in deede, and that thou thynkyng a Flye to be created of any other then of GOD, thou come into the power and iurisdiction of hym that is called the prince of Flyes: the whiche we reade to haue hapned vnto one that was greeued with the lyke distresse, the aucthor whereof is S. Augustine, who expounding that most famous and nota∣ble begynnyng of Iohns Gospel, sayth, That the Flye, the Gnatte, the Caterpiller, the Shearnbub, and the Caterpiller, and all suche tyke Vermine, were not created without iust and good cause of hym, who sawe all thynges whiche he had made, that they were verie good. And yf so be there were no other cause, yet this one woulde suffice to abate the pryde and hautinesse of mens mindes, as it were with these weapous. For GOD coulde haue sen: vnto the Aegyptians, Lions, Tygers, or Serpentes: but he sent rather these small and base creatures among them, to the intent both his heauenly power, and theyr earthly frayletie & cor∣ruption, myght be the more manifestly knowen.

Sorowe.

I am disquieted with Fleas.

Reason.

Take thy rest in holsome and good cogitations, thynke that no euyll can happen to a man besides ••inne: For not only these gentle thinges, but also those that seeme most hard and greeuous, haue profited many. What dooest thou know, whether if the Fleas should goe their way, too much sluggishnesse or euil lustes would succeede, & set vpon thee? Beleue that it is wel with thee in al thinges, and it shal be so.

Sorow.

I

am ouercome with the continuall battell that the Fleas make with me in the nyght.

Reason.

Why art thou then proude, thou shadowe and dust? Why art thou then hautie and loftie, thou base clay? For being ouercome with Fleas, thou contendest agaynst GOD, thou vntamed and most foolyshe creature.

Sorowe.

I am tormented with Fleas.

Reason.

Wylt thou offende men, to defende thy selfe from Fleas? Thou beyng the most noble creature, and far superiour, settest vpon that most vile and base beast, and being the meate of Fleas, thou deuourest men, the king of al creatures.

Sorow.

I am tormented with Fleas.

Reason.

Al earthly thinges, were made to obey and serue man, some to feede him, and some to apparrel hym, some to carry him, and some to defend hym, some other to exercise and teache hym, and some also to admonish him of his estate, and last of all, some to delight him, to ease & recreate his minde, being weeried with af∣fayres, and certaine also to rule & bridel his harmful & dangerous delightes, & with holsome grieffes and troubles to woorke within hym a contempt of this lyfe, & also a desyre of a better. If this life were voyde of cares and troubles, how much, I pray thee, would death be feared? or how much would this lyfe please mortal men, when as, beyng ful of sorowes & afflictions, it so delighteth them, whiche then it woulde muche more doo, yf nothyng were to be feared? For neyther the sweetenesse of lyfe is alwayes profita∣ble to hym that lyueth, nor the pleasure of the way to the trauel∣ler: and it is expedient sometymes, that some harde and payne∣full accident happen by the way, that the ende may be the more desyred.

Sorowe.

The nyght byrdes, with their mournyng tunes, are odious vnto me.

Reason.

As I suppose, it is not the Nyghtingale, which as Virgil sayth, weepeth all the nyght, and sittyng vpon a bough, beginneth her sorowful song, and fylleth all the places abrode with her careful and greeuous complayntes. For mour∣nyng is sweete, and verses are delectable, and complayntes are pleasant. Peraduenture the mourneful Shrychowle disturbeth thee, or els the imfamous Owle, which is not only yll spoken of, by meanes of his owne most hatefull song, but also by the wry∣tynges of the Poetes: which notwithstandyng, howe much they haue been esteemed for ioyfull diuination and coniecturing of

thyngs to come here in fore tymes. Thou mayest reade in Iose∣phus, although they be both ridiculus, that is to say, either to con∣ceiue hope or feare thereby. For the sadde countenaunce of this byrd, & of many others, and also his sorowful song, which are both naturall, they doo not so vtter, to the ende to declare or foreshewe any thyng thereby, but because they doo not knowe howe to syng otherwyse. Geue vnto them the voyce of a Nyghtyngale, and they wyll mourne more sweetely: but nowe they obeye theyr owne nature. As for you, ye endeuour by dotyng, to con∣strayne your nature vnto your superstitious desyres.

Sorowe.

The Owle that sytteth al the nyght long in the next Turret, is very offenciue vnto me.

Reason.

Thou hast hearde, howe that there was an Owle that woonted to disquiet Augustus in the nyght: And whom, I pray thee, wyll he feare to trouble, whiche disquieted the Lord and ruler of all the worlde?

Sorowe.

The Myse disturbe me in my Chamber.

Reason.

What canst thou tell whether they were bred in the same Chamber, wherein thou nowe lyest as a stranger? and therefore they may more iustly complayne of thee, who beyng a newe come gheast, disturbest them in their natiue soyle. But to leaue iestyng, there is one reason of them all. This is the cause that your lyfe is trou∣bled by them, that you myght learne to wyshe for the lyfe to come: and that your mindes myght be setled there, where there are neyther Myse, nor Rattes, nor Theeues, nor Spiders, nor Moathes, nor losses, nor any other tediousnesse of lyfe to molest you.

Sorowe.

The croakyng Frogges, and chirping Gras∣hoppers, disquiet me.

Reason.

Imagine that they prepare comfort for thee, and then it shalbe comfort. A mans opinion alte∣reth any thing as it lust, not changing that which is true, but go∣uerning the iudgement, and rulyng the senses. There was a cer∣taine man of late dayes, who dwelling in the countrey, vsed to go abrode with as many stones and libbets as he coulde beare, both in the day tyme, and also rysing in the nyght, to dryue away the Nyghtingales from singing: but when that way he profited no∣thyng, he caused the trees about to be cut downe, to the entent that beyng disappoynted of their greene and pleasant harbours, they myght be enforced to depart: but when they notwithstan∣dyng

continued their singing there, he hym selfe at length was constrayned to forsake the place, for that he coulde not sleepe, nor take any rest there. Neuerthelesse, he coulde abyde to lye vppon the bankes of the Brookes that ran hard by, to heare the nyghtly croaking of the Frogges and Toades, in the fennes and moores, whose most vncertayne noyse, he vsed most greedily to listen vnto, as it had been the most delicate harmonie of Vialles or Virginalles: truely a very strange and sauage nature in men, and scarce woorthy to be reekoned among the number of men, beyng also in other manners answerable perhappes vnto these whiche thou hast hearde, yet not so mad in other vulgare af∣fayres: whiche example is nowe come to my remembraunce, that thou mayest perceyue howe great a stroke opinion beareth in all thynges.

Sorowe.

I am greeued with the noyse of Frogges and Grashoppers.

Reason.

They doo it not truely to greeue thee, but they vse the common benefite of nature. But the same offendeth your proude impatience, as all other thynges doo, whatsoeuer is doone or sayde otherwyse then is pleasaunt vnto your eyes and eares. But that I may referre the follie of your errour vnto the auncient fables, thynke nowe, eyther that the Frogges doo renewe theyr olde complaynte, and call vppon Latona their reuenger, in their hoarse voyce, or that the Gras∣hoppers doo with ioy repeate the name of Titonus, in theyr schriching tune, and therefore thou mayst suffer them to plie theyr businesse, and plie thou thyne owne. Why are ye offen∣ded with the innocent lyuyng creatures, beyng alwayes iniu∣rious to nature, and in the meane whyle, perceyue not howe muche more greater the greefes be, wherewith ye torment one another? I speake nothyng, neyther of the spoylers of Cities, nor of a thousande other meanes of iniuryng, of dooyng violence, and of deceyuyng, whereof all the streetes and feeldes are full. I speake nothing of Theeues, that are dis∣persed ouer all quarters of the worlde, nor of murtherers with theyr rough and craggie bywayes, by meanes of whom the greater part of the earth lyeth voyde from trauaylers, and the most beautifull syghtes of the worlde lye hydden

from mens eyes, whiche is nowe a matter winked at, and growen to strength through a most wretched custome. Who is able with condigne complayntes to set foorth, or with con∣uenient woordes to vtter the heauie weyght of humane slouth∣fulnesse, for that also euen in ciuile and quiet countries, as a man woulde saye, lawfull Theeues be founde euery where, who spoyle and robbe the carefull wayfaryng man, that is broken with trauayle, and weeryed with greefe, both of all his wares and money, I knowe not vnder the colour of what most vniust ryght? Whereby it is nowe come to passe, that that whiche was wont to be most pleasaunt, to wander ouer all the worlde, the same in some places is nowe a most dan∣gerous matter, and in all places chargeable and paynefull. Thus your Princes, and Fathers of theyr Countrey, yea, your patience, and your publique libertie, are for a small price become contemptible. What shall I speake of your vayne watches, of your priuie walkynges, and all other thynges full of sundrie kyndes of suspition, and howe the vse of learnyng, whiche is the onely comfort in a mans absence, is forbydden? Whiche thyng, for that it can not be remedied, must be suffered with a valiant minde. Howbeit, as he doth not refuse to suffer the woorkes of nature, who by this tyme ought to haue lear∣ned to suffer so many insolencies, so many cruelties, so many cruell outragies, so many rapines committed by men: the same man also shall soone perceyue howe iniuriously dame nature is dayly torne in peeces for small tryfles, seeyng that one man is constrayned to suffer so manye bytter and greeuous touches at anothers handes.

Sorowe.

I am plagued with extreame heate.

Reason.

Stay a whyle, for the sharpnesse of Winter is commyng apace, whiche wyl aban∣don this tediousnesse.

Sorowe.

I am sore vexed with c••••de.

Reason.

Behold, Summer maketh haste, that wyll take away the bytternesse thereof.

Sorowe.

I am gree∣ued with colde.

Reason.

There is scarce any discomm••ditie to be found, for whiche nature hath not prouided a remedie. And many tymes there be sundrie remedies founde for one greefe:

these thynges followyng keepe away colde: the house, clothes, meate, drynke, labour, and exercise. There is seldome any ouer∣come with colde, vnlesse before he be ouercome by slouthfulnesse. I am ashamed to recken vp fyre among the remedies agaynst cold, which is a great argument of humane idlenes. It is nothing so easie a matter, with a wet lynnen cloath to drawe away water that is mingled with wine in an whole Hoggeshead, as it is to separate sluggardes from good husbandes at a good fyre in the Winter season, thyther run all they that haue neyther blood, nor courage of minde: a man may then beholde, yf he haue a delyght to see it, our youth, to the intent they would seeme fayre, to deforme them selues agaynst the fyre, by making their bodyes naked from the nauell downwarde: for whom how much were it more honest and seemely to couer their priuie partes, then by scorching their thyghes and buttockes agaynst the flame, to annoy the senses of the standers by, with their loath some stynke.

Sorowe.

At one tyme I quake, and at another I sweate.

Reason.

I easily beleeue thee, for I knowe thy manners, and whyles thou art spea∣kyng, I wyll tell thee what commeth into my minde. The histo∣rie is but new, and short: In Fraunce there was a father and his sonne apprehended for treason, and iudged to be executed, accor∣dyng to the manner of the countrey, by standyng in a Caudron wherein they shoulde be boyled to death. Now it was winter, and when they were both put naked and bounde into the colde water, the young man began to quake, and chatter his teeth for colde: but when once the water began to waxe hotte by meanes of the fyre that was made vnder it, then began he also by greeuous lamentation and weepyng to declare his impacience of the heate. But on the othersyde, the olde man persisting vn∣moueable in both, and lookyng vppon hym with a sterne countenaunce, Thou sonne, quoth he, of a most vyle whoore, canst thou abyde neyther colde nor heate? A saying truely, per∣happes of an euyll, yet of a constaunt and valiant minde, and well deseruyng that the speaker thereof, shoulde leape vnhurt out of the deadly Caudron: But most conueni∣ent for your youth to learne, then whom there is nothyng more effeminate nor tender, who in the Summer doo curse

the sunne lyke the Atlantes, and in the wynter season woorshyp the fire as do the Caldees.

Sorowe.

The snowe molesteth me.

Reason.

Those that be nice do also loath delicate thynges: How∣beit some haue counted it a most beautiful matter to see snowe fall without wynde, and truely if there be any thyng fairer then snowe, yet verily there is nothyng whyter.

Sorowe.

We are troubled sometyme with to muche heate, and sometyme with to muche colde: at one tyme with ouermuch drought, and at another with to much rayne.

Reason.

Some say that Alexander was most impatient of heate, and no marueyle, for he could not endure prosperitie nor aduersitie: and contrariwyse, they say that Hannibal could indifferently away both with heat and colde: Why doest not thou also take vnto thy selfe some one part, though it be of vnlyke prayse? He coulde suffer both wel, & canst thou en∣dure neyther? This good doth pleasure bryng you at the begyn∣nyng, whiche doth soften you, and make you effeminate, and as I may truely say, geld your myndes, so that you dare not onely not abyde your enimies swoordes or death, but also not so muche as the ayryal impressions. I crye styll, but alwayes I crye in vayne vnto you, for that I crye vnto deafe folkes. Leaue vnto nature her owne office: she dooth nothyng without the counsell of the most hyghest. You ignorant fooles, there is not one drop of water that falleth vpon the earth more or lesse then is expedi∣ent: and although that euery particuler mans lust be not satisfied, yet is there generall prouision made for the safetie of all men.

Sorowe.

I am greeued on the one side with durt, on the o∣ther with dust, here with cloudes, there with windes and thun∣der.

Reason.

The diuersitie of the earth foloweth the di∣uersitie of heauen: moyst ayre breedeth durt, and drye ayre dust, so lykewyse by moouing of the ayre come wyndes, of va∣pours cloudes, of windes and cloudes, tempestes and thun∣der are engendred. Who so knoweth the causes of thynges, and sheweth hym selfe obedient vnto nature, shal not bewaile the consequence of effectes. And although there be great questi∣on among some, concernyng the wyndes: neuerthelesse doth not the ayre (that is mooued with no wynde) seeme vnto thee in a manner halfe dead? in so much that some (not vnaptly,)

haue tearmed the wynde a soule, or a spirit? As for dust, thou seest how that among men of valure, it is counted sweete: which also vertue onely hath by dyuers operation, caused that as much may be beleeued also of durt. Thunder and lyghtnyng, with suche other lyke forcible motions of heauen, what be they other then the threates and warninges of the most mercyful God? Who truely vnlesse he had loued man, woulde not threaten hym, but stryke hym, seeing that he neuer lac∣keth many and iust causes to stryke hym in deede. That these thynges apparteyne vnto the terrif••yng of men, but specially of those that rebell agaynst God, not onely the Po∣et, who was skylfull of the secretes of nature, doth signifie, but also the Prophetisse, whiche seemed to be priuie of Gods counsel sayeth: The aduersaries of the Lorde shal feare hym, and he shall thunder vpon them from heauen. O ye the aduersaries of the Lorde, stande in feare of the true thunderer, labour to come into his fauour, that beyng reconciled into freendshyp with God, ye feare nothyng but to displease hym. Doo ye this rather, and leaue complaynyng.

Sorowe.

I am sorie for this darke and cloudie weather.

Reason.

No tempest continueth long, and after fayre weather come cloudes, and after cloudes fayre weather commeth agayne, and one of them immediatly foloweth another, and that which is so short, should be suffered without complayntes.

Sorowe.

I am offended with the cloudes.

Reason.

This offence is a certayne kynde of warnyng, namely that hereby thou mayest make prouision agaynst darkenesse, whiche is nowe but transitorie, since thou takest it in so yll part, least haply thou be constrayned to endure euerlastyng darkenesse.

Sorowe.

I am troubled with fyre from heauen, with hayle and stor∣mes.

Reason.

These and suche lyke, make vnto an whole∣some feare, or yf ye contemne them, vnto reuenge. Heare this one thyng: Fyre, Brymstone, and the breath of stormes, are the portion of their cup. Heare also another saying: Fire, hayle, famine, and death, al these make to reuenge.

Sorow.

I am frighted with tempestes of the sea.

Reason.

Doo not herein accuse nature, but eyther thyne owne follie, or

couetousnesse: for who constrayneth thee thereunto?

Sorow.

I am molested with darke cloudes, and contrarie windes.

Reason.

Thou wast borne in darkenesse, and in darkenesse shalt thou dye, and lyuest betweene the wyndes of contrarie tempestes: learne to suffer that at length, whiche thou alwayes sufferest perforce.

Sorowe.

I am shaken with thunder and lyghtnyng.

Reason.

Herein there is more then weerisomnesse. In the first truely a great feare, contemned of none but of some fooles: but in the seconde, is death. And there∣fore some haue iudged, that none complayne of lyghtnyng but suche as want experience. And, who is so mad, I pray thee, vnlesse he be to farre gone, that standeth not in feare of them both, seeing that among the auncient Romanes, whiche were a most valiant kynde of people, it was prouided by an auncient sta∣tute, that there should be no assemblies of the people holden to choose officers, or otherwyse, whyles Iupiter thundred from heauen? Howbeit vnlesse this feare tende to the amendment of lyfe, it is vnprofitable. For what can feare auayle, where there is no redresse of the thyng feared? Wherefore, the matter must be thus applyed, that although it thunder and lyghten by natu∣ral causes, neuerthelesse it must be iudged to be a warnyng from hym, who beyng tyed vnto no causes, is hym selfe the fountayne and cause of al causes. To this ende therefore doth he thunder in heauen, that thou shouldest lyue well vpon the earth, and dri∣uyng away forgetfulnesse, acknowledge the wrath of God, and do that at leastwyse for feare, which thou oughtest too do for loue. Complayne not a lyke of good and euyl thinges, it is expe∣dient for you, beleeue me, that it thunder often, and it is left in wrytyng vnto posteritie, that it thundreth very often the same yeere wherein the assured aduersarie of God and al godlinesse, (Domitian the Emperour) died: not that ye should cry out as he dyd, Let him now strike whom he lust: but that ye may appease the wrath of God with penitent teares, & humble prayer.

Sorow

I am greeued with the conuersation & mirth of drunkardes.

Reason.

That wine maketh glad the hart of man, & that Bacchus is the geuer of mirth, although Dauid & Virgil had neuer spoken it, very experience maketh it knowen. And although y^t likewise be true,

whiche not so eloquent, but a more holy Poet spake, The flowyng of a ryuer cheareth the citie of God: yet is there more feruent ioye and ioyful gladnesse, as the Philosophers terme it, in a fewe caskes of strong wynes, then in many streames of running water whiche are conteyned within the ryuers: and I confesse, that there is nothyng more lamen∣table then the mirth of drunkardes, and nothyng more vayne then typlers and Tauerners, whom Cicero very wel cal∣leth the dregges of cyties: whiche notwithstandyng a man must suffer, or els he must forsake cities, or otherwyse flye from the market and place of iudgement, or at the leastwyse from the streetes and haunt of Tauernes, euen as he woulde doo from so many rockes.

Sorow.

I am oppressed with re∣sort and importunate concurse of citizens.

Reason.

It is a sauage and vnnaturall wyshe, to seeke thy countreyes desolation, that thou thy selfe mayest lyue at lybertie: For the very same cause, as thou knowest, in the olde tyme was the sister of Appius Claudius punished, & shee that was last celebrated a∣mong writers for an innocent: and truly as this is an vngodly wish, and deserueth punishment, so to auoyde the weerisomnes of thronges and cities, and it (occasion so require,) to depart a∣while out of the way, is a poynt of modestie, and frequented of the wise.

Sorowe.

I am greeued with a long suite, and slow iudgment.

Reason.

To what ende was daying of matters de∣uised, but to ende strife, and to remedie the slacknes of iudgment?

Sorowe.

I am worne with wofull and troublesome strife.

Reason.

Thou hast vsed apte and conuenient tearmes for thy selfe: For where strife and contention is, there can be nether ioy, nor quietnesse. Thou, if thou wylt liue out of stryfe, auoyde the cause of stryfe. Couetousnesse engendreth contention, and nouri∣sheth it when it is engendred.

Of an earthquake. The .xci. Dialogue

SOROWE.

I Am afrayd of an earthquake.

Reason.

This is, I confesse, a great discommoditie of dame nature, and not without cause a∣bandoned of al parentes, which although it be more greeuous, yet

for that it happeneth but seldome, the rarenesse thereof may stand in some steede of a remedie. Many tymes the sorowful counte∣nance of heauen foretelleth an earthquake at hande, but precisely there is no token nor forewarnyng thereof, although it be repor∣ted that Pherecydes foretolde of one to come by drynkyng a draught of water out of a well. Moreouer agaynst the threat∣nynges of heauen, caues vnder the ground perhaps doo yeelde some succour, the lyke whereof we reade was Augustus Caesars denne, into whiche he fledde for feare of thunder, whiche is yet seene at Rome in the way Flaminia, and keepeth the aucthours name vnto this day: but from an earthquake no flight can serue, no lurkyng places can preuayle. For poore man (that is made of the earth) whyther shal he flye out of the earth? or what shal be∣come of hym yf the heauen thunder ouer hym, and the earth trem∣ble vnder hym, vnlesse perhaps some wyl aduise hym to goe to the sea, whiche is also partaker of the varietie of heauen & earth, and also vnquiet by it owne motion?

Feare.

Thou tellest me no remedies as thou wast woont to do, but amplifiest the daun∣gers.

Reason.

I supposed thou wouldest thinke so, and doubt∣lesse so it is in deede. There be some thynges that may be dissem∣bled, and extenuated in woordes, that although by report they haue seemed greeuous, yet in effect they may appeere at one tyme tollerable, at another contemptible: and truely this where∣of I now intreate is such a one, as by it owne force it refuseth the argumentes of mans eloquence, but one comfort, as I haue sayde, is the seldomenesse thereof. Thou hast seene welnygh an whole age without any earthquakes, duryng whiche tyme there is no doubt but that there haue dyed innumerable, who in al their lyfe tyme, though they haue hearde the name of so terrible a mat∣ter, yet neuer were made afearde with the sight thereof. But who is not mooued when he heareth or reedeth, eyther those auncient histories, or these of latter tyme, the memorie whereof is extant, eyther in the bookes of histories, or yet ryfe in the mindes of men that sawe them, when as long sence vpon one and the selfe same day, both the citie of Rhodes was shaken with an horrible earth∣quake, and also newe Ilandes rose vp from the bottom of the sea, and moreouer twelue auncient cities in Asia were ouerthrowen,

and some also swallowed vp into the earth. After that, the same mischiefe raged also in Achaia and Macedonia, and last of all in Campania, the most bewtiful part, I say not of Italy only, but also of al the world, much about Senecas time, who maketh men∣tion therof among his naturall questions, when as by the same most cruell outrage Herculaneum and the Pompe••j, which are most famous cities of those quarters, yea and Naples it selfe, was not a litle molested, as thou mayest reade. Shall I prosecute all examples touching this matter? Truely that were an infinite woorke Of late dayes thou mightest haue seene the Alpes, which reach vnto the cloudes and deuide Italy from Garmanie (who as Virgil saith, do neuer mooue) to stirre and quake, and in many places to be ouerthrowne, and immediatly after, the queene of al cities greeuously shaken, euen to the vtter subuerting of the to∣wers and churches therof, and also some layde flat with the ground. And not long after this, as it were for a continuance of the miserie, it is wel knowne how that the best and most fertile part of al Germany, namely the whole valley of the Rhine was shaken, and vpon the shoare therof standing the citie of Basile, and also castles and fortresses, to the number of foure score and vpwarde, vtterly ouerthrowen. Truely an horrible matter, were it not that death were the most terrible of al terrible thynges. Who so hath learned not to feare that, wyll feare nothyng, & as the Poet Ho∣race sayeth excellently well, If al the worlde shoulde fall, though the peeces thereof strake hym, he woulde not be a fearde. For what skilleth it whether a litle stone fall vpon thee and brayne thee, or the most mightie mountayne Apeninus crushe thee, to death, so thou be slayne by any of them? or the whole worlde breake and fall vpon thee, seeing there is but death in neyther? Vnlesse perhaps some wyl count that death to be the more honorable, whiche is procured by the greater instrument. Wherefore to conclude, this is the summe of myne aduice, forasmuch as we haue also set downe some remedies agaynst lyghtnyng, and all o∣ther mischeefes are releeued eyther by resistyng or geuing place vnto them, and it falleth out contrariwyse in this, that ney∣ther flyght auayleth, neyther wyt nor force can preuayle, it were good aboue al thynges to lay away the feare of death,

whiche onely maketh al thynges dreadeful: whiche thyng to do, I confesse, is very harde in deede to speake, but yet not impossi∣ble to doo. And forasmuch as there is no tyme nor place free from this heauie chaunce, men ought to prepare and arme their myndes with al patience agaynst whatsoeuer may happen, eyther by course of nature, or by fortune, at al tymes and places, whiche cannot possibly be done, vnlesse there be also adioyned the loue of vertue, and feare of vice. To conclude, seeing that not only the heauens are in continuall motion, and the elementes threaten you round about, but also the earth, vppon which you treade, which also was hoped to be without al danger, and a most assured rampire, is sometime shaken, deceiueth, and putteth in feare her inhabitantes, I exhort you to flee with your mindes vp to heauen, and among al these shakinges and quakinges of thinges and men, to repose al your hope in him, who looketh downe vpon the earth, and maketh it to quake, of whom it is writen, I am the Lorde, and I am not changed. Whosoeuer fa∣steneth vpon him the footestepes of a deuout minde, is safe and sound, and shal neuer be moued himselfe, nor stand in feare of any earthquake.

Feare.

I cannot choose but be mooued and feared with earthquakes.

Reason.

Canst thou remoone al thy hope and mynde from the earth? Do so, and thou shalt lyue out of feare, and stand vpryght whether that shake or fal. For, to repose assured trust in a quaking and vnconstant thyng, is a great follie.

Of the plague farre and wide raging. The .xcii. Dialogue.

FEARE.

I Am afrayde of the plague, which rageth farre and wyde.

Reason.

In this also is nothyng els but the feare of death, whiche being cast of, thou hast purchased perfect securitie, whiche feare ought not onely to be layde downe of valiant mindes, but also neuer be admitted: for what is lesse the part of a man, then to feare common thynges?

Feare.

I am afeard of the plague.

Reason.

Forasmuch as thou must needes dye, what shalt thou loose or gayne by dying of the plague, but that thou shalt dye with more company? but if thou escape, that thy life be the sweeter vnto thee, since that thou art deliuered out of so great a

danger, if so be it be danger, and not nature to dye: for the plague sweepeth not away al, whiche if it had been so, there should none haue escaped this last great plague, a more sorer then which there was neuer any since the begynnyng of the worlde. But many escaped, who it had been better they had dyed: whereof it com∣meth, that as thou now seest, the worlde is pestred with these kyndes of dregges as it was woont to be, whiche neuer any plague nor death is able to consume, they are so clodded and ba∣ken.

Feare.

I feare the plague.

Reason.

Say rather as the trueth is, thou fearest death, wherof, for that I see thee so prone vnto complaintes, I purpose to entreate before I make an ende of this booke: For, this only exepted, wherefore should∣est thou abhor the name of the plague, seeing (as I haue sayd) it is rather a kinde of comfort to die with many?

Feare.

I stand in dread of the plague.

Reason.

If it be a certayne kynde of loue and charitie towardes mankynde that draweth thee hereun∣to, I haue cause to commend thee: for there is nothing more be∣settyng a man, then to take compassion vpon the miseries of men. But if it be for thine owne sake onely, I may iustly blame thee: for wherein can the plague hurt thee that art a mortal man, but to bryng thee to that whereunto thou must needes come? vnlesse perhaps thou count this among the discommodities thereof, not to be solemly mourned for, whiche hapneth vnto them that dye so, and thou count them more happie, who are recited by Virgil to assend most bewayled of their freendes vp into heauen.

Of sadnesse and miserie. The .xciii. Dialogue.

SOROW.

I Am sad.

Reason.

A man must consider for what cause he is sad or merie. These, as many thynges els, may be tearmed indifferent matters, whiche vpon smal occasion may be made good or bad. For sadnesse for sinne is good, so that it ioyne not handes priuily with desperation: and ioy for vertue and the re∣membrance of good woorkes doone, is commendable, so that it set not the gate wyde open to pryde: and therefore the causes of

these affectes must be fyrst consydered, least haply disprayse pos∣sesse the place of commendation: and therefore weygh thou nowe what cause thou hast to be sorowfull.

Sorowe.

I am heauie for the miserie of this lyfe.

Reason.

The felicitie of the lyfe to come shall make thee merie: for this lyfe is not so miserable, whiche in deede is most miserable, as the other is happie and glorious.

Sorowe.

I am heauie.

Reason.

Of this mis∣chiefe there are as many rootes, as there are thynges which you tearme aduerse and miserable, of many of whiche sort we haue al∣redie entreated, and for that I perceyue thee to be redy to com∣playntes, we haue lykewyse hereafter much to entreate of. Some tymes a man shall perceyue no apparent cause at all, neyther of sicknesse, nor losse, nor iniurie, nor shame, nor errours, nor of any sudden rumor of suche lyke matter, but onely a certayne plea∣sure to be sorie, whiche maketh the soule sadde and heauie. Whiche mischiefe, is so muche the more hurtfull, by now muche the cause is the more vnknowen, and the cure more difficult. And therefore Cicero wylleth men to flee from the same with all theyr myght and maine, yea with all their sayle they can make, as from a most dangerous rocke of the Sea: whose counsayle in this, as in many other thynges, I lyke wel of.

Sorowe.

The thinking of the present miserie, maketh me heauie.

Reason.

That the miserie of mankinde is great and manifolde, I doo not denie, whiche some haue bewayled in whole great volumes: but yf thou looke to the contrarie part, thou shalt also see many thinges, whiche make this lyfe happie and pleasant, although there be none hytherto, so farre as I knowe, that hath written of this matter, and some that haue taken it in hande, haue geuen it ouer, for that whiles they haue been in the very course of their wry∣ting, they haue perceyued howe wrong a matche they haue vn∣dertaken, and that the argument hath fallen out to be muche more barren then they fyrst supposed: and the rather, for that the miserie of mankynde appeareth to be euident, and the fe∣licitie thereof seemeth to be verie small and hydden, so that in discourse of disputation, it requireth a deeper display∣ing and examination, then that the incredulous sorte are a∣able to conceyue. And nowe out of many matters to gea∣ther

one summe togeather, haue not you great cause to reoyce? Fyrst, for that you are the image and likenesse of GOD your Creator, whiche is within in the soule of man, your witte, memorie, prouidence, speeche, so many inuentions, so many artes attendyng vppon this soule of yours: and next, howe many necessities doo followe this your bodye, whiche all are comprehended vnder the most singular benefite of GOD: also so many opportunities, so many sundrie shewes and kindes of thynges, whiche by strange and marueylous meanes doo serue to your delyght: moreouer, so great vertue in rootes, so manie iuices of hearbes, suche pleasaunt varietie of so many sortes of flowres, so great concorde of smelles, and colours, and castes, and soundes rysyng of contraries, so many lyuyng cre∣atures in the ayre, vppon the lande, and in the sea, seruyng onely to your vse, and created onely to doo man pleasure. And vnlesse you had of your owne accorde voluntarily fallen vnder the yoake of sinne, you had nowe been gouernours ouer all thynges that are vnder heauen. Adde herevnto moreouer, the prospect of the Hylles, the opennesse of the Valleys, the shadowie Wooddes, the colde Alpes, the warme Shoars. Adde also so many holsome Streames of water, so many sul∣phurious and smookyng Lakes, so many cleare and coole Fountaynes, so many Seas within and rounde about the earth, so many confines and boundes of Kyngdomes, whiche are eue∣rie day changed, and some most assured for theyr immoueable stabilitie. Adde lastly some Lakes, as bygge and brode almost as the Sea, and Pondes lying in bottomes, and Riuers fal∣lyng downe headlong from the toppes of Hylles, with theyr brinkes full of flowres and pleasaunt hearbes: And the bed∣chambers of the shoares, and Medowes greene, with runnyng Streames, as Virgil sayth. What shall I neede to speake of the foming Rockes that lye vpon the soundyng shoare, and the moyst Dennes, and the Fieldes yellowe with Corne, and the buddyng Vineyardes, & the commodities of Cities, & the quietnesse of the Countrey, and the libertie of Wildernesses? And also the most glorious and bryght spectacle of all, whiche is the circumference of the starrie Firmament, that continually turneth about with

incomprehensible swiftnesse, wherein are fastened the fixed Starres? Lykewyse the wanderyng lyghtes, whiche you call the seuen Planettes, And especially the Sunne and Mone, the two most excellent lyghtes of the worlde, as Virgil tearmeth them, Or the most glorious beautie of Heauen, as Horace speaketh of them? By these consist the fruites of the earth, by these the strength and force of lyuing creatures, of these also de∣pende the varietie of seasons, by these we measure the yeere, the monethes, dayes, nyghtes, and spaces of tymes, without whiche this lyfe coulde not be other then weerisome and tedious. Here∣vnto moreouer, there is geuen vnto you a bodye, whiche although it be frayle and transitorie, yet notwithstandyng in shewe is im∣perious and beautifull, fashioned vpryght, and conuenient in contemplation to beholde the heauens. Agayne, the immor∣talitie of your soule, and a way prepared for you vnto heauen, and an inestimable merchandize bought for a small pryce, with other matters also, whiche of purpose I haue deferred to the ende, for that they are so great, that of my selfe I was not able to comprehende them, but onely through the benefite of fayth: lykewyse, the hope of rysyng agayne from death, and takyng vp of this bodye, after that it is rotten and consumed, to be quickened agayne, and made lyuely, and bryght shynyng, and impassible with great glorie and maiestie: and moreouer, that whiche surpasseth not onely the dignitie of man, but also of the Angelles, the nature of man so vnited to the nature of GOD, that GOD hymselfe became man, and beyng made but one person, comprehended perfectly in hymselfe the two natures, and was both GOD and man, to this ende, that beyng made a man, he myght make man a GOD. An vnspeakable loue and humilitie in GOD, exceedyng felicitie and glorie vnto man, all manner of wayes an hygh and secrete misterie, a woon∣derfull and comfortable societie, whiche I knowe not whether any heauenly tongue canne expresse, but sure I am, no mor∣tall mouth is able to vtter. Dooeth the state of mankynde seeme vnto thee by this meanes but smally aduaunced, and the miserie thereof but a lytle relieued? Or what, I pray thee, coulde man, I say not hope, but wyshe or imagine bet∣ter

for his owne commoditie, then to be made GOD? And be∣holde he is GOD. What remayneth there more that you myght wyshe for, or desyre, or inuent, or thinke vppon yet grea∣ter then you haue alredie obteyned? Truely, at what tyme the diuinitie and Godhead humbled hymselfe to woorke your salua∣tion, although he coulde, yet woulde he not take vppon hym any other then the body and soule of man, neyther woulde he impart the vnion of his Godhead vnto the shape of the An∣gelles, but of men, to the ende that thereby thou myghtest vnderstande, and reioyce, howe deerely thy Lorde and GOD loueth thee. For by this meanes, as S. Augustine sayth no∣tably, hath he reuealed vnto those that are in the fleshe, whiche are not able in mynde to discerne the trueth, and are altogether lead by the bodyly senses, howe hygh a place mans nature possesseth among al creatures: Yea, ouer and besydes al this, he, who by this marueylous and mercifull vouchsafeing preferred you before the Angels, set Angels also ouer you, to keepe and de∣fende you, that by all meanes he myght declare your excellencie aboue all other creatures. For S. Ierome sayth, That your soules are of suche estimation, that euery one at theyr first creation, hath an Angell appoynted vnto hym, for his defence and safegarde. Truely GOD hath a fatherly, and more then a fatherly care ouer you: and a litle to wrest the saying of the Satyrike Poet, He loueth man more dearely, then his owne selfe. What place for sadnesse and complayntes is there lefte among these bles∣singes? Wherefore, it is not your nature, but your fault, that ma∣keth you heauie and complaynyng.

Sorowe.

The basenesse of my byrth, the frayltie of my nature, and nakednesse, and po∣uertie, and hardnesse of fortune, and shortnesse of lyfe, and vn∣certentie of my ende, doo make me heauie.

Reason.

Of purpose ye seeke matter to make your selues sadde, when as ye ought otherwyse to endeuour to the contrarie, that ye myght reioyce in honest gladnesse: But I knowe your custome, ye be verie dilygent to procure your owne harmes. And there∣fore, concernyng the basenesse of thy byrth, or deformitie of thy bodye, whatsoeuer is amplified vppon that ground by the witte and inuention of any, when as the generall resurrection

shall come, whiche men of vpryght fayth doo vndoubtedly looke for, shall not onely be taken away, by the woorthynesse of the gloryfying of the bodyes, but also be diminished by the present beautie, and the singuler Maiestie wherewith GOD hath en∣dued man, aboue all the woorkes of his handes: For, wherein can the basenesse of byrth disparage the dignitie of man? Doo not tal and spreadyng Trees whiche growe vppon filthy rootes, couer the greene fieldes with their pleasaunt shadowe? Doo not the rankest Corne spryng from most filthie dunge? and yet so vile an encrease of so excellent a thyng is not contemned? You are the corne of GOD, that must be clensed vppon the floore of his iudgement, and be layde vp in the barne of the great Maister of the housholde, although your originall come from the earth, and in some part it be excellent, and of an heauenly na∣ture: but let it be what euer it wyll, and be the encrease neuer so difficult, yet the last restyng place thereof is Heauen. What shall we say vnto the nakednesse and imbecilitie of the bodye, and the pynchyng want of many thynges, whiche are ascribed vnto the reproche of mans estate? Are they not supplyed by the assistaunce of sundrie artes, and manifolde prouisions, so that they may be rather applyed vnto the glorie of man, then to his miserie? Whiche appeareth to be true, in that dame Na∣ture hath prouided for all other lyuyng creatures that want the vse of Reason, a thycke hyde, clawes, and hayre to couer them withall: but vnto man, she hath geuen onely vnderstandyng, to be a meane to fynde out all other thynges withall, to the ende that the bruite beastes myght be in safetie, by meanes of an outwarde defence, but man by his owne inwarde purueyance: and the fyrst shoulde haue as muche as was borne with them, and no more, but man, as muche as he coulde by experience of lyuyng and meditatyng with hym selfe, com∣passe by his witte. In lyke manner, yf a Maister geue any vaintie meate vnto his Seruantes and Hindes, he deuideth vnto euery one his portion by hym selfe, but vnto his wyfe and chylde he geueth none, so that the Seruauntes must haue no more then that whiche was geuen them, but the other may take as much as they lyst: thus is the one sort stinted, and the other

are at theyr libertie. Thus then, when these other creatures waxe bald, eyther by meanes of olde age, or manginesse, or haue sore eyes, or fall lame, we see they haue none other remedie, but that which is mnistred vnto them by men: but man, beyng of himselfe naked, is clothed and beautified, and yf neede require, is also ar∣med with his witte: and yf he chaunce to fall lame, or be weake, then he rideth vppon an Horse, or sayleth in a Shyp, or is carried in a Couche, or leaueth vpon a Staffe: To be short, he assayeth all meanes to helpe and ease hym selfe, yea though he haue lost some lym, he practiseth to make him selfe legges of Wood, handes of Iron, nose of Waxe, and prouiding against all mishaps, yf he waxe sicke, he helpeth hym selfe with medicines, and with diuers sauces he quickneth his dull taste, with medicines for the eyes he cleareth the dulnesse of theyr syght, in whiche thyng ye haue deui∣sed more wysely then dyd your forefathers, who, Anneus Seneca writeth, vsed to occupy vessels of Glasse full of water, whiche is a game very delectable vnto nature, who is a pleasaunt and sweete mother, in that she restoreth that vnto her chylde, whiche she tooke from hym, and when she hath made hym sorie, she com∣forteth hym agayne. Yea, ouer and aboue this, the Horse, the Oxe, the Elephant, the Camel, the Lion, the Tyger, the Parde, and all other beastes, of what strength so euer they be, when they are once olde, are no longer regarded, and when they be dead, they are no more hearde of, they yeelde vnto olde age, and geue place vnto death: onely vertue, whiche is proper vnto man alone, maketh hym that is indued therewith, honourable in his olde age, and gloryous at his death, and not beyng able to extynguyshe hym, transporteth hym ouer vnto felicitie. To be short, there are some lyuyng creatures stronger then man, some swyfter, some quicker of sense, none more ex∣cellent in dignitie, none in lyke sorte regarded of the cre∣ator. Vnto the head he hath geuen a Sphericall figure, and as it were the forme of a Starre. And whereas all other ly∣uyng creatures looke downe towardes the grounde, he made man to turne his face vpwardes, and to behold the heauens, and to lyft his countenance towardes the starres, as it is notably sayd of Ouid. although it were spoken before by Tully, He gaue hym

eyes, he made hym a foreheade, in the whiche the secretes of the minde shoulde shyne, he hath geuen also reason, and speache, he hath geuen weeping, he hath geuen laughing, whiche are significations of secrete and hidde affections, although some doo drawe them to an ar∣gument of miserie, because hastie weeping, is late laughing. For as soone as he is borne, he weepeth by and by, and laugheth not be∣fore fourtie dayes are expired: that thing especially this wise cre∣ature doth proue, which is skylful of thynges to come, not the end, whiche I accompt happie through the gouernance of vertue, but rather difficult, for that he is entred into trauel and the garboyle of present paynes. To conclude, whatsoeuer strength is in all other creatures, whatsoeuer swiftnesse, whatsoeuer oportunitie, what∣soeuer commoditie, it wholly serueth to the vse of man. He bring∣eth the wilde headed Oxen to the yoke, & forceth the fierce Horse to be bridled. The Beares, that are to be feared for their clawes, Boares for their tuskes, and Hartes for their hornes, he hath made them to garnyshe mans Table. The Linx, the Foxe, and an infinite number moe creatures of that sort, because they were not to be eaten, he hath reserued for the vse of their skins and hide. He searcheth the seas with nettes, the wooddes with Dogges, and the skies with foules, and with whom hath man nothing to doo? He hath taught such beastes to vnderstand mans voyce, & to be o∣bedient vnto hym. Thus of euery naturall thyng, there is some commodity gotten. Thou hast not the strength of an Oxe, yet thou makest hym to drawe. Thou hast not the swyftnesse of an Horse, and yet thou makest hym runne. Thou canst not flye so well as a Gosehauke, and yet thou makest hym flye for thee. Thou art not so bygge as an Elephant or a Camell, yet thou ma∣kest the one of them to beare a Turret, and the other a burden. Thou hast not the skynne of a Bucke, nor the pelt of a Lambe, nor the case of a Foxe, yet these haue them for thee. Is this answeare then of a certayne Romane Captaine, improper vnto them that say you are destitute of these thynges, to witte, That a man would not haue these thinges, but had rather gouerne them that haue them? And thus muche haue I spoken breefely, partly like a Philosopher, and partly like a Catholike. Touching the greefe of the minde, for so the Philosophers doo tearme it,

the better to expell it, and purchase tranquilitie thereunto, it a∣uayleth to knowe what Tullie hath disputed of the fyrst, in his disputations vppon the thyrde daye in his Tusculans: and of the seconde, Seneca in his booke whiche he wrote, of the tran∣quilitie of the minde. For whilest I make haste vnto other mat∣ters, and drawe towardes an ende, I shall not haue tyme to comprehende all thynges that I woulde: For the present, it is sufficient that I haue bounde vp the wounde, and shewed thee the Phisitions of the minde, whose helpe thou mayest vse, yf these thynges be not sufficient. Nowe as touchyng those three thynges, whereof thou complaynedst laste, I haue not thought them woorthie the answearyng, for as muche as of the roughnesse of Fortune, wherein the greater part of this our seconde booke of talke hath been, and shal be spent, both the very shortnesse thereof ought to mollifie and diminishe the sharpenesse it selfe, and nature also doth appoynt an vncertayne ende of lyfe, that it may seeme alwayes to be at hande, or not verie farre of.

Of the Toothache. The .XCiiij. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Am tormented with the Toothach.

Reason.

Thou mayst see what trust there is to thy intrayles, when as thy bones doo fayle thee.

Sorowe.

My teeth beginne to be loose.

Reason.

What hope is there in the softe, since that thy harde and strong limmes doo quaile?

Sorowe.

I am sicke in my teethe.

Reason.

Man is a feeble and frayle creature, in whom suche thynges as seemed to be most strong, are weake.

Sorow.

I am troubled with a great payne in my teeth.

Reason.

And those thynges whiche are appoynted for the ornament and cheefe strength of the mouth, thou seest them to be turned into a cause of greefe, that thou mayest perceyue howe long the conioynyng of this mortall frame wyll remayne.

Sorowe.

I haue nowe loste a toothe or twayne.

Reason.

Now mayest thou then consyder, howe muche thou art bounde vnto GOD for so many great good gyftes, since to lacke the fewest or the least thereof, thou wouldest thynke it a great greefe and a lamentable losse: a right woorthy punishment for thine ingratiude.

A seruant that hath refused his maisters present lyberalitie, when the tyme is once past he is sorowful, and that whiche he would not perceyue for his gayne, it is meete he vnderstand to his losse.

Sorowe.

I am quite vnarmed of my teeth.

Reason.

Beyng nowe vnarmed, thou shalt wrestle with pleasure, thou shalt eate lesse, thou shalt laugh lesse, thou shalt byte more bluntly at an o∣ther mans good name. The closure of the teeth beyng broken, wyl cause thee to brydle thy tongue being redy to speake. And if chas∣titie cause not thy olde wanton affection to restrayne from vn∣lawful kisses, then let shame restrayne it.

Sorowe.

Nowe hath olde age broken my teeth.

Reason.

She hath vsed her libertie: geue now thankes vnto nature, who hath suffered thee to vse that her gift tyl thou were olde, for that she taketh it away ma∣ny tymes from them that are young: as from one amongst you of late dayes, the myghtiest of al kynges, who euen in his lustye youthful yeeres lacked almost al his teeth: but though he suf∣fred this great infirmitie of youth, yet afterward as he reported hym selfe, he was comforted with a notable sharpenesse of sight in his olde age, and also (whereof he maketh no mencion) with a wonderful quickenesse of wyt and courage: whiche is a profitable example vnto al men that are affected with any discommoditie eyther of nature or age, that they lament not al thynges, or terme euery slackenesse of gods lyberalitie an iniury, but aswage the greefe of benefites lost with them that art saued, sharpe thynges with the gentle, sower with the sweete.

Sorowe.

Olde age hath taken away my teeth.

Reason.

If age should not take them a∣way, death would. Looke into y^e graues ful of dead bones, where thou shalt see teeth sticking in drye rotten skulles, whiche at the first do shewe terrible pale, & gryn fearefully, but yf thou plucke them a litle, thou shalt finde them loose and easie to fal out, and in this case neyther the number, nor the strength, nor comlinesse of them, auayleth any whit at al. We reade that y^e daughter of Mi∣thridates king of Pontus, had double rowes of teeth aboue & be∣neath. Prusias sonne to the king of Bithinia, in steede of the rowe of his vpper teeth, had only one tooth (that is to say) one bone y^t was matche with his neither teeth, reachyng from the one side of his iawe vnto the other, which strange thing was neither vncom∣ly,

nor vnprofitable. But Zenobia y^e queene of the East amongst al other commendations of her beautie, is commended exceeding∣ly for the surpassing comlinesse of her teeth, for that when she ey∣ther spake or laughed, it seemed that her mouth was ful rather of bright pearles, then of white teeth. But yf thou searche nowe the graues of these also, thou shalt finde no special thyng at al there, for death, whiche is indifferent vnto al men, hath dispersed and con∣sumed al. Ye loue your bodyes and mortal members ouer muche, & ye despise your immortal soules and vertue more then ye ought, being blynd and vnequal discerners of thynges.

Sorowe.

Now I am quite without teeth.

Reason.

Now then art thou without toothache, yea and without any succoure of them, thou hast no vse of them at al. Thou must grinde thy meate paynefully without teeth, & vnlesse thou wylt dissemble with thy selfe, thou oughtest to remember that thou hast a iourney shortly at hande, to goe thi∣ther where as there is nothyng at al eaten, but where men liue onely with ioy and the euerlastyng foode of the soule.

Of payne in the legges. The .xcv. Dialogue.

SOROW.

I Am troubled with a payne in my legges.

Reason.

In al buil∣dynges, that is the most daungerous fault whiche happeneth in the foundations. For as touchyng al other defaultes howe euer thou repayre them, this bryngeth ruin: & therefore at this present there is nought els for thee to do, but immediatly to depart out of this ragged Inne.

Sorow.

I am troubled with the payne of my legges.

Reason.

The cause of this sickenesse, as also of many other moe, for the most part ryseth from no whence els but from your selues: and therefore that whiche came from you, by good ryght commeth backe vnto you agayne, seeing thou hast forgotten the counsel of the wyse man, whiche sayth, Let thyne eyes goe before thy feet: and I suppose that that first argument of an o∣ther wyse man may wel agree hereunto, and be accordyngly ap∣plyed, Ye cannot stay your selues, nor looke vnto your feete, but lyke blynd men ye runne headlong hither and thither, groping after your way. What marueyle is it then, yf thou stumble sometyme, at a stone, and sometyme at a blocke. This sure is very strange, that you wil lay your faultes vpon giltlesse nature. Yea moreouer,

ye haue a great delight to be thrusting in amongst a company of madde iades, so that oftentymes ye bryng away the print of a horse showe vpon you. Doest not thou thinke that that whiche is spoken by Tullie vnto one, belongeth welnigh vnto al men? These mischeefes (saith he) thou foolish felowe, hast thou brought wholy vpon thy selfe. And so it is truely: deceyue not your selues, the harme which you suffer for the most part, is of your owne do∣ing, for whiche afterward ye be sorie. Thou, yf thou hadst remay∣ned at home, that is to say, with thy selfe, thou perchance ne hadst this greefe, ne found any cause of these thy complayntes. It is no∣thyng iniurious that a wandryng lyfe & an vnstable, should be mo∣lested with dyuers discommodities.

Sorowe.

I am tormented with the payne of my legges.

Reason.

If thou hast geuen the occasion to haue payne, reioyce to be punished for the fault: yf not, comfort thy minde that is innocent. And if thou be sory that thou hast a greefe, yet reioyce that thou art without blame. Howsoe∣uer the matter goeth, in al thy greefe set the shielde of pacience a∣gainst the sharpe dart of payne, which is a perpetual document in al matters of perplexitie, then the which there was neuer yet any medicine more wholesome.

Sorowe.

I am woonderfully gree∣ued with the payne of my legges.

Reason.

The phisitions wyll geue thee counsel that thou shalt lye styl, and moue thee from thy bed: and truely they do wysely therein, to geue thee counsell to do that after thou hast taken harme, whiche thou shouldest haue done before, but I wil speake no more of their counsels, thou thy selfe shalt learne to thy owne cost, how their counsels are to be estemed of. Notwithstanding, I wil geue thee that aduice which they vse to geue, but in another respect: For they suppose that they are able to restore thee easily to thy health when thou art sicke, by applying fomentations & other remedies, whiles they endeuour to defend y^e part affected from the confluence of spirites & humors, whyther thou stand or goe. For my part, I would wish thee while thou ly∣est in thy bed, setting al other cares aside, & aswaging thy greefes by laying thy selfe easily in thy couche, after that thou hast taken order for thy bodily health, to thinke some thyng of thy graue, and howe, and where thou shalt lye hereafter: and to examine the condition of thy present estate,

and to make thy selfe so familiar with death before he come, that when he is come, thou do not feare hym. For it is death only, that is able to delyuer this mortall carckase from al infirmities.

Of Blyndnesse. The .xcvi. Dialogue.

SOROW.

I Haue lost myne eyes.

Reason.

O howe many loathsome thynges of lyfe also hast thou lost? Howe many foolyshe toyes of fonde sight shalt thou not see?

Sorow.

I haue lost myne eyes.

Reason.

Of the face perhaps, not of thine hart. If they remayne good enough, al is wel.

Sorowe.

I am blynde.

Reason.

Thou shalt see the sunne no more, but thou hast seene it, and thou remembrest what manner thyng it is: or yf thou hast not seene it, as it hath chaunced vnto thee the more hardly in that respect, so the desire of a thing vnknowen, shal greeue thee y^e lesse.

Sorow.

I lacke eyes.

Reason.

Thou shalt not see heauen nor earth, but to see the Lord of heauen and of earth, abilitie is not ta∣ken from thee: this sight is much clearer then that other.

Sorowe.

I am condemned to perpetual blyndnesse.

Reason.

Thou shalt not see from hencefoorth the wooddie valleyes, the ayeriall mountaynes, the florishyng costes, the shadowy dennes, the siluer sprynges, the crooked ryuers, the greene meddowes, and that whiche they say is of al thynges most beautiful, the portraiture of mans countenance. Thou shalt neyther see the heapes of dunge, the ouerflowyng Iakes, torne carkases, nor whatsoeuer els by filthinesse of sight offendeth the stomacke and senses.

Sorow.

I am depriued of myne eye sight.

Reason.

If there were none other commoditie in this discommoditie, in that thou shalt not beholde these games of enormious and deformed ie∣stures, blindnesse were to be wyshed: whiche although I haue oftentymes confessed before to be a wyshed thyng, yet doo I deny that it is to be wyshed, for as muche now, as in tymes past, there is no hope left thee to runne away: whyther soeuer thou turnest thy selfe, the kyngdome of madnesse is a lyke, and a like exile of vertue: in whiche state to lose a mans eye sight, is a kind of flight & comforte.

Sorow.

I haue lost my sight.

Reason.

And the beholdyng of womens faces. Reioyce therefore that those wyndowes be shut vp at the whiche death entred in, and that the passage to many vices is closed vp: couetousnesse, gluttony, ryotousnesse, and diuers other plagues, haue lost thereby their seruantes and retinue, for looke howe muche of thy soule was taken away by these enimies, so muche perswade thy selfe that thou hast gayned.

Sorow.

I haue lost myne eyes.

Reason.

Thou hast lost euyl guydes, whiche lead thee into destruction. It is a wonderful thyng to be spoken: oft times it chaunceth that the lyghtest part of al the body, bryngeth the whole soule into darkenesse? Endeuour thy selfe to folowe the spirite that cal∣leth thee vnto better thynges, and harken vnto the trueth, that cryeth in thine eare. Seeke not for the thynges that are visi∣ble, but for the inuisible, for the visible thynges are temporal, but the inuisible euerlastyng.

Sorowe.

I lacke myne eyes.

Reason.

Thou hast lacked many faultes, if thou haddest lac∣ked thyne eyes euer: but nowe let vertue and blyndnesse stoppe many mischiefes to come, and those that are past alredye, let them be done away by sorowe and repentance: and mourne not because thy blyndnesse shal open the eyes of thy minde, but perhaps thou mayest racher mourne for that it is deferred.

Sorowe.

I haue lost the lyght of myne eyes.

Reason.

Re∣tayne the true lyght of the soule. They whiche haue lost one of their eyes (as they say) do see the better with the other. Whiche if it be so, what should I thynke but that yf thou hast lost both, thou shalt see very cleare with thyne other two, and then shalt make that saying of Tirecias the blynde Poet to be thyne owne, God hath blynd folde the face, and turned al the lyght into the hart. Thou mayest accompt thy selfe vnhappie and blynde in deede, yea quite without eyes, yf thou hast lost this lyght also, whiche that it is so in deede, thy complayntes make me to suspect, for it greeueth a man most to lose that, where of he hath no moe.

Sorow.

I haue lost the eyes of my head.

Reason.

Purge then and make cleane those which thou canst not loose, and see∣ing thou hast lost the outwarde eyes, turne thee vnto the in∣warde: There, beleeue me, & not in the outward eyes, remayneth that filicitie whiche ye seeke for.

Sorowe.

I see no lyght with

myne eyes.

Reason.

Learne to reioyce, yea euen in darke∣nesse. H••st thou quite forgotten the answeare of Antipater the philosopher, some thyng wantonly, yet properly spoken? Whose blyndnesse when certayne freendly wenches dyd lament, he an∣sweared merily: That sleepe whiche ye haue a nyghtes, seemeth it no pleasure vnto you? Truely this was pleasantly and breefely answeared. For there are many ioyes and pleasures in the darke, as wel as there are great paynes and greefes in the lyght. But I am onely to exhort thee vnto honest matters.

Sorow.

I com∣playne for the losse of myne eyes.

Reason.

If thou were to put them to an euyl vse, thou oughtest rather to reioyce that the instru∣mentes of mischeefe are taken from thee: but if thou meanest to vse them wel, there is no cause why thou shouldest so lament for a thing comely to sight only: for thou hast lost that whiche was no∣thyng at al needeful, eyther towardes godlynesse, or any holy pur∣pose. God looketh not into the members, but into the minde: offer vnto hym thy soule pure and whole, whom when he hath recey∣ued, whatsoeuer remayneth he wyl take in good part, for he that gaue the soule, hath kept backe nothyng vnto hym selfe.

Sorowe.

I haue lost my bodyly eyes.

Reason.

If thou endeuour to come to heauen, be of good comfort with Didimus, whom, being blynd from his infancie, and continuing in his blyndnesse euen vnto the ende, the holy man Antonius comming to visite, and perceiuing hym now being olde, stil to exercise him selfe in vertue and godly∣nesse, byd him be of good cōfort, & not to be moued any thing at al, in y^t he had lost his eies, which were cōmon to flies, mice, & lizer∣des, as wel to hym, but rather to reioyce, for that those eyes which are common to him with the angels, were safe & sound. A notable saying of Antonius, worthy to come from the scholar of y^e heauen∣ly schoolemaister. But if thou aspire vnto y^e fame of liberal studies, then behold Homer & Democritus, of whom the one, as the re∣port goeth of hym, while that he spake those his wonderful & di∣uine oracles, saw nothing with his mortal eyes, but in mind was as quicke of sight as Linceus. The other, because he would not see many thinges, which (is he thought) did hinder his eyes from seeing y^e trueth, plucked out his owne eyes: whose fact, whether it were prayse worthy or no, I wil not dispute, but surely he had folo∣wers.

But if perhaps thou conceiuedst in thy mind to behold some picture or sculptare of Apelles, or Phidias woorkemanship, I can not then deny but that thou hast lost something: vnlesse it be a∣gaine, from a lowe beginning to be constrained to aduaunce thy mind aloft to higher matters.

Sorowe.

I am made poore, & vn∣profitable through blyndnesse.

Reason.

Why doest thou, blynd man, forsake thy selfe? For Tiresias, of whom I spake before, be∣ing blinde of sight, was famous for prophesiing. Did not Diodo∣rus the stoike, better knowen by meanes of his familiaritie with Cicero then for his owne sect, aswage the greefe of his lost sight by the benefit of hearyng: when as day and night, as the same Ci∣cero wryteth of hym, there were bookes read vnto hym, in whiche kinde of studie he had no neede of his eye sight? He applied at one tyme both the studie of philosophie and musicke, and that which a man woulde scarse thinke could be done without eyes, he exercised the practise of geometrical descriptions, and causing lines to be drawen by other mens handes, he discoursed on them by his owne vnderstandyng. Caius Drusus had no eies, but he had such skil in the ciuile lawes, that his house was euery day ful of troupes of ci∣uilians: they could see better the way to y^e court then he could, but he could see better the way how to carie away the cause, & therfore they sought the asistance of the blinde guide. But the most famous of al that euer were renowmed for blindnesse, was Appius Clau∣dius, blind in deede, & so called by name, who being oppressed with blindnesse & age, was not only cōmonly knowen of the people by geuing of counsel when there happened any doubt in law, but also by his aucthoritie & wisedome ruled the senate, and gouerned the whole common wealth. Thou, as soone as thou art depriued of one sense, by & by castest away al the residue, yea & which is more, thy minde also: none otherwyse then if one that is moued with im∣pacience for a smal losse, should cast away desperatly both his life & the instrument belonging to the same.

Sorow.

I am blind, & I cannot tel where I goe.

Reason.

But thy guide doth see, whe∣ther he be the mynde, or some one that vseth to direct the steppes of the blynd, by whose leadyng thou shalt not only find y^e ryght way, but also attayne vnto the cheefe degree which concerneth the noble despising of lyfe, and the most excellent actes of woorthy

vertue: and vnlesse the strength of the mynde do fayle, the losse of sight cannot hynder any notable exployte. Thou remembrest what Sampson in the scriptures, and in the ciuile warres descri∣bed by Lucan in Massilia, what Tirrhenus doth vpon the sea, wherein yf there be lesse credite to be geuen to poetical report, yet remember that, whiche is more assured and fresher in memo∣rie, whiche beyng done in thy tyme, thou myghtest haue seene it with thyne owne eyes: to wyt, howe Iohn kyng of Boheme, beyng sonne vnto one kyng of the Romanes, and father to an∣other, who raigned immediatly one after the other, had alwaies weake eyes, and at the latter ende of his age fell blynde. Now since the warre which was betweene the King of France, whose part he toke, and the King of England, are more then. 42. yeeres, when as being in that most sharpe conflicte in which both the Princes were in person, and vnderstanding that the woorse be∣ganne to fall on the side whereof he was, he called vnto his cap∣tayne with a loud voyce, sayeng, Direct me quickly towards that part of the armie where the kyng of our enimies standeth, and the greatest force of his whole armie. Whiche when they sorow∣fully and fearefully had done, settyng spurres to his horse, he pricked thyther with al his force, whyther as they that had eyes durst not folowe hym that was blynde not scarse with their sight: Whereas encounteryng the most valiant front of his enimies, fighting not onely valiantly, but also terribly, he was there flayne, they that ouercame hym both wondryng at his valure, and com∣mendyng his manhood. I tell you of a thyng knowen vnto all men, and which (except it be wrytten) is lyke to peryshe through obliuion. And I pray you, what dyd it hinder the glory and re∣nowme of this valiant gentelman, that he lacked his sight? but that whom vertue and nature had made woonderfull, blynd∣nesse shoulde make men to be amased at hym.

Sorowe.

I am blynde.

Reason.

I wyl beginne to iest, vnlesse thou leaue complayning: for what els coulde blyndnesse bryng vnto thee, yf so be thy strength remayne, then that whiche Asclepia∣des (beyng blynde) sayth of hym selfe, to wyt, that thou walke with one boye waytyng on thee more then thou wast woont?

Of the losse of hearyng. The .XCvij. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Haue lost my hearyng.

Reason.

Beholde, thou hast one passage for tediousnesse stopped. Many thynges that are tedi∣ous, are drawen in at the eyes, and many at the eares, and ma∣ny lothsome thynges pearce into the minde by both wayes, for the auoydyng whereof, blindnesse and deafenesse are to be desired a lyke. Notwithstanding, these haue their discommodities, as al∣most al other mortal thynges: neither doo I denie, but that there is some painefulnesse in them, but more daintie then pacience, and not comparable to vertue. Where, what the proportion is be∣tweene these discommodities, it is no easie ma••ter to g••e••sse, sa∣uing, that the fyrst is more dangerous, and this other more ridicu∣lus. For they that are thicke listed, seeme in•••• maner to be out of their wittes, but they that are blinde, are reputed more miserable, and therefore we saugh at the deafe, and pittie the blinde: but a wyse man contemneth both, and weigheth not what other thinke, but what the thing is in deede.

Sorowe.

I haue lost my hea∣ryng.

Reason.

Then hast thou escaped flatterers whyspe∣ryng, and slaunderers gyrdes, a farre differyng, but a lyke euyll: sauyng that it is somewhat more manlye to geue care vnto foule speache, then vnto flatterie: For in the one, so metyme is a mediume, in the other, is alwayes poyson. Wherefore, the fyrst cureth often by bytyng, but this enfecteth alwayes by tyckelyng: and truely, woorse is faigned loue, then open ha∣tred.

Sorowe.

I haue lost my hearyng.

Reason.

Now that Arte whiche is reported to haue auayled Vlisses, eyther nature, or some chaunce hath geuen vnto thee, in that thou hast safely passed the singyng of the Sirenes with deafe eares, whereby thou oughtest to accompt thy selfe happie. For howe many daungers that wayes myght haue passed into thy minde? Howe many errours, and finally, howe many troubles myght haue entred into thy head?

Sorowe.

I haue lost my hearyng.

Reason.

I beleeue thou shalt not heare the

Nyghtingale, neyther the harpe, nor any other kynde of instru∣ment: Nay that more is, thou shalt not heare the braying of Asses, the gruntyng of Swine, the howlyng of Wolfes, the bar∣kyng of Dogges, the rooryng of Beares, the ragyng of Lions, the crying of Chyldren, the chyding of olde Wyues, and last of all, that whiche is woorse then all these, the immoderate loude laughing of Fooles, and their vnmeasurable weepinges and out∣cries, and the sound of their most confused voyces, then the which there can not possibly a more vnpleasant noyse be heard.

Sorow.

I lacke my hearyng.

Reason.

Thou art deliuered from mani∣folde deceytes. Men are deceyued by nothing more often, then by woordes: and a deafe man is out of al daunger thereof.

Sorow.

My eares are waxen dull.

Reason.

That part of the bodye is a dangerous part, and especially to Princes, who thereby be∣yng puffed vp with the vayne blastes of flatterers, doo burst ma∣nie tymes therewith, to their vtter destruction, to the no small laughter of the whole people.

Sorowe.

My hearyng is dull.

Reason.

If thou be restrayned from talkyng with other, then talke with thy selfe, being mindfull of the saying of Tully. He that can talke with him selfe, hath no neede of communication with an other: Although a dumbe man also may talke with other, to witte, by readyng and writyng. For he that readeth, talketh with his auncetours: and he that wryteth, speaketh to his posteritie, Moreouer, he that readeth the bookes of heauenly Philosophie, heareth GOD speake vnto hym, and he that prayeth, speaketh vnto GOD. In both these kindes of communication, there is no neede eyther of tongue or eares, but onely of eyes, and fingers, and a deuout minde. Herein therefore, as in many other thinges els, let vs embrace the counsell of our countrey man Cicero, to the entent, that as the blinde may comfort himselfe with the vse of his eares, so may the deafe with the helpe of his eyes. Thou therfore, yf thou canst not heare men speake, reade the bookes which men haue written, and wryte thou bookes, whiche other men may reade: beholde moreouer the heauen, the earth, and seas, and lyue in silence in contemplation of the creator of them all. Here∣vnto this thy deafenesse wyll not hynder thee, but perhappes auayle thee much.

Sorow.

My hearing fayleth me.

Reason.

By what tunes of numbers Diapente, or Diapason consisteth, or by what other proportions they are handled by the Musiti∣ans, a deafe man may vnderstande well enough. And although he haue not with his eares the tune of mans voyce, or the melo∣die of the Vialles or Organnes, but vnderstande well in his minde the reason of them, doubtlesse he wyll preferre the delyght of his minde, before the pleasure of his eares. Imagine that he doo not knowe these musicall proportions, and that a deafe man be vnskylfull in Musicke: yet yf he knowe the proportions of Vertue, and exercise hym selfe in them, it is well, herein his deafe∣nesse wyll not hurt hym. For it is muche better to be good, then to be learned: and yf a man be aboundantly learned and wyse, he is aboundantly good: but he that is euyll, is also a foole and vnlearned, although in booke learnyng he be the most skylfull vnder the Sunne.

Sorow.

My hearing fayleth.

Reason.

It is well that this chaunced not vnto thee before thou recea∣uedst thy fayth, whiche is gotten specially by hearyng, whiche fayth nowe thou possessest. Whereof complaynest thou nowe, or what seekest thou more? If thou hearest not the singyng of men, nor of byrdes, then encline thyne harte vnto heauenly songues, and applye thyne inwarde eare to GOD wardes.

Sorowe.

I heare not.

Reason.

Then thynke and speake to thy selfe, If I heare not what men say, eyther to me, or of me, I shall heare what the Lorde GOD sayth vnto me. They oft tymes talke of discorde: but he euer speaketh of peace.

Sorowe.

I heare no∣thyng at all.

Reason.

Many beyng very desirous of silence, haue been weeried with long iourneys and trauayle, to the entent that in some secret places, and bye wayes, they myght finde that whiche they sought for. That whiche is paynefully sought for by others, thou hast it with thee in euery place wheresoeuer thou goest. Nowe learne to vse thyne owne commoditie, and remembring the noyses and tumultes that are past, begynne at the last to be delyghted with silence.

Of the lothsomnesse of lyfe. The .XCviij. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Am wonderfull weery of my lyfe.

Reason.

A mischiefe sprynging out of the premisses, then whiche, I know not whe∣ther there be any othermore daungerous: for, it is most gree∣uous of it selfe, and the next neyghbour and redie way to des∣peration. Agaynst whiche mischiefe by name, there hath been order taken in your Churches, to pray for assistaunce vnto the blessed Sainctes of heauen, who beyng discharged of this earthly weerisomnesse, and bandes of the bodye, doo now rest in the ioyes of heauen in euerlastyng felicitie. I doubt not, truely, but that some of them are at rest in deede: but as for those your prayers vnto them, I compt them vayne and foolyshe.

Sorowe.

I am compassed about with muche lothsomnesse of lyfe.

Reason.

All thynges that are lothsome, ought to be abandoned with glad∣some thoughtes, with good hope, with the comfort of freendes, with readyng of bookes, & with varietie of honest delyghtes, and pleasaunt exercises, and expellyng of sluggishnesse, but especially b•• pacience in all thynges, and long sufferyng, whiche is inuinci∣ble. Ye ought not to preuent the naturall ende of your lyfe, eyther for the hatred of the present state, or the desire of the future, neither (to be breefe) for any feare, or hope, whatsoeuer: whiche certayne fooles and miserable wretches haue doone, who whyle they haue sought meanes to auoyde pouertie, the troubles of this lyfe, and paynes temporall, haue fallen into eternall: Let our coun∣treyman Cicero speake what he lyft, who in his booke of Offices excuseth the death of the latter Cato. Let Seneca say what he wil, who woonderfully extolleth and commendeth the same, and also disputeth in many places, howe that in certayne cases a man may violently destroy hym selfe. But the other opinion of Cicero is muche more true, and commendable, wherein he sayth, That both thou, and all godly men, ought to retayne theyr soules within the prison of theyr bodyes, neyther to depart out of this humane lyfe, without his commaundement, by whom it was geuen, least haply ye shoulde seeme to refuse the callyng whereunto

he hath assigned you. Yea moreouer, thynke that this was spoken vnto thee from heauen, to witte, that vnlesse God, whose temple is all this whiche thou beholdest, shall discharge thee out of the wardes of this bodye, thou canst haue no entraunce hyther. And to conclude, take heede, lest that through any weerisomnesse of this lyfe, thou so thynke of death at any tyme, that thou suppose it lawfull to thee to hasten it, or so esteeme of any ioye, that it be able at any tyme to ouerthrowe thy heedelesse mynde vppon a sodden.

Of heauinesse of the bodye. The .XCix. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I AM heauie of bodye.

Reason.

Thou mightest complaine hereof, yf thou haddest been borne to flye lyke a byrde, and not rather as a man vnto manhood.

Sorowe.

My body is hea∣uie, and vnwyldie.

Reason.

Leaue this complaynte to Roscius and Aesope. Thou, yf thou canst neyther bende thy selfe rounde in a lytle compasse, or slyde downe out of the toppe of the ayre by a rope, what matter is it? Walke thou soberly with honest men, contemne gesticulation and dauncyng, whiche be∣longeth to players. As grauitie becommeth a wyse man in all his deedes and woordes, so also is it conuenient that he vse it in his gate, with great modestie.

Sorowe.

I haue a heauie body.

Reason.

This heauinesse was wont to be one of the compani∣ons of olde age, lest haply he that had lost the fyrst, shoulde ex∣clude the seconde: although many tymes, this heauinesse be founde not to be so muche the companion of olde age, as of na∣ture, whereof it commeth, that we see young men dull and hea∣uie, and olde men quicke and nimble. But oftentymes vnder a heauie bodye, is contayned a lyght minde, and vnder a lyght bo∣dye, abydeth a heauie minde: but yf a certayne proportion and equalitie, both of bodye and minde doo meete together, that is not to be despised.

Sorowe.

The weyght of my bodye is exceedyng great.

Reason.

Though inuisible, yet no lesse is the weyght of the mynde, and firmenesse thereof: set the one agaynst the other, and there shal be nothing heauie.

Sorowe.

I

am drowned with the weyght of my bodye.

Reason.

Fleete then agayne by the lyghtnesse of thy mynde, and dryue it away, and in laboryng studie, takyng in hande many and harde mat∣ters, both to the exercise of thy mynde and bodye, and the bani∣shyng of all pleasures. Dryue away idlenesse, procure thy selfe businesse, despise lustes, bate slouthfulnesse, loue carefulnesse, caste away tendernesse, followe hardnes, haue a delyght in difficult thynges, and with continuall persistaunce, vse thy selfe to mode∣rate diet in meate and drynke, and to short and carefull sleepe, litle sittyng, and seldome lying.

Sorowe.

I am payned with the weyght and greatnesse of my body.

Reason.

Another is trou∣bled with the contrary, some with one thing, and some with another. No man leadeth his lyfe without traueyle, but euery man knoweth his owne, and eyther despiseth, or is ignorant of an others griefe.

Sorow.

My body is much growen vnto mole.

Reason.

If mans name, for that he is a mortal creature, be deri∣ued from the woord Elumus, which signifieth the earth, the must man needes be oppressed with muche earth. Notwithstandyng, his earthly nature cannot so ouerwhelme the heauenly, but that it wyll aryse, vnlesse it shewe it selfe deafe to vertue, and quicke of beleefe vnto euyl, perswadyng pleasure.

Sorowe.

A heauie bodye oppresseth my soule.

Reason.

Plucke vp thy mynde, and with great endeuoure sustayne this greeuous burden, and thynke with thy selfe, that heauenly myndes doo oftentymes breake foorth out of the burden of the bodyly mole, and attayne vnto woonderfull hyghnesse.

Sorowe.

I am ouerborne with the burden of my bodye.

Reason.

Although nature cannot be ouercome, endeuour neuerthelesse with all diligence, that thou en∣crease thy strength euery day somewhat, and abate thy burden.

Of great dulnesse of witte. The .C. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

BVT I am heauie and dull witted.

Reason.

This griefe is something troublesome, but it may be muche diminished, yf thou applie thy selfe diligently therevnto.

Sorowe.

But I am of a slow and dul witte.

Reason.

What, thyn∣kest thou that thou art able to helpe this griefe with repynyng

and mournyng? this matter is to be remedied farre otherwyse. Thou must abstayne from too muche sleepe, from letcherie, from meate, from wine, from vayne fables and tales, from takyng oc∣casion of excuses, and yeeldyng too muche vnto sluggyshnesse, which thorowe thy faulte is nowe growen into nature. But thou oughtest rather to watche, to muse, to sigh, to blowe, to stryue, to contend, to ryse, to styrre vp the strength of the mind, to aduaunce thy courage, to put away heauinesse, to abandone stouth, to ab∣stayne from pleasures, and earnestly to applye thy booke. There is nothyng so heauie, but that earnest applying wyll lyfte it vp, nothyng so harde, but it wyll make it softe, nothyng so dull, but it wyll make it sharpe, nothyng so slowe, but it wyll pricke it forwarde, to be short, there is nothyng so deepely hydden nor so secretely layde vp, but it wyll fetche it foorth, nor so deadlye a sleepe, but that it wyll make it.

Sorowe.

I am slowe of witte.

Reason.

Suche as say that quicknesse of witte is a commendation, I am sure wyll affirme that slowenesse of vn∣derstandyng is an infamie. Yet had I rather haue a slowe witte and a modest, then one that is hastie and furious: for as in the one there is no hope of great glorie, or of abundance of ryches, so in the other there is daunger of greeuous errours, and feare of shamefull reproche: For it is a great deale more tollera∣ble for a man to become inglorious, then infamous.

Sorow.

I am slowe of witte.

Reason.

That whiche men wont to com∣plaine of in rydyng of dull Horses, prouide thou for thy selfe, to witte, spurres and reignes, and herein thou shalt take no occasion of excuse, but rather thou hast matter ministred vnto thee of la∣bour. There are some that thynke a thyng shoulde be left of, yf it wyll not come to passe by and by: but doo thou stay, be earnest, and doo thy endeuour. Difficultie doth prouoke a couragious mind, and labour nourisheth it: therein doth it contende cheefely, & esteemeth of that thyng most, wherein it findeth most resistance. Thou readest how Socrates was made wyse by studie, and De∣mosthenes eloquent by industrie, & the lyke hath chaunced vnto many: there are not many that attaine to a notable name: report of thinges done, commonly is lesse then the desart.

Sorow.

I am dul of wit.

Reason.

Therefore thou hast no hope left thee

of profityng, but hast founde the neede of diligence. It is so muche the more glorious to be aduaunced by learnyng, then by nature, by howe muche it is better to doo good of sette pur∣pose, then by chaunce.

Sorowe.

I am altogether dull and weake witted.

Reason.

If thou canst not studie for learnyng, yet applie vertue. There is none but haue wytt enough to at∣tayne vnto her, wherein there is no sharpnesse of vnderstandyng required, but onely a good wyll: To the gaynyng whereof, some haue supposed that learnyng profiteth nothyng, yea, some holde opinion that it hyndereth not a lytle. And therfore certayne, forsakyng theyr studies, haue withdrawen them selues into Wyl∣dernesses, and their ignoraunce in learnyng, hath stande them in the steede of excellent knowledge, of whose sentence, it is harde to geue iudgement. But of this whereof we are assured, accept this my last counsayle: Let no man deceyue thee, neyther the woonderyng of the common people, nor the voyces of fooles mooue thee: for it is a hygher matter and of more safetie to be ennobled by vertue, then by learnyng. And therefore experience teacheth, that the one of these is alwayes to be wyshed, and the other most tymes to be feared. But when the lyght of learnyng is added vnto the vertue of the minde, that truely is an absolute and perfect thyng, yf there be any perfection at all to be accounted of in this worlde.

Of a slender and weake memorie. The .Cj. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

BVT I haue a slender and weake memorie.

Reason.

This is also an other infamie of olde age, as false as the residue, which thou mayest correct by the meanes of studie.

Sorow.

My memorie fayleth.

Reason.

Take heede lest it decay vtterly, and helpe it whyle it is faylyng with continuall exercise: Vse it as men doo Walles that are readie to fall downe, make Buttresses in places where there is neede, and defende the weake sides, by adding plentie of strong shores.

Sorow.

My memorie is slippery.

Reason.

Binde it fast with diligence and cunning:

industrye helpeth al defaultes of wyt and memorie. Diligence suffereth nothyng to peryshe, nothyng to be diminished. This is that whiche can preserue Philosophers and Poetes (beyng very olde men) in a freshe floryshyng wyt and stile: this is it also which manteyneth in the auncient Orators a strong voyce, and valiant sides, and a firme memorte: Whiche, yf it were not so, Solon had neuer waxen olde, and yet learned somethyng daylye: and beyng at the very poynt of death, when as his freendes sate talkyng about hym, seemed in a manner vnto them to be rysen from death to lyfe: Neyther had Chrisippus finished in his extreame olde age, that wyttie and profound volume whiche he began be∣yng but a very young man: Neyther had Homer at those yeeres set foorth that same his diuine and heauenly woorke: Neyther yet Simonides, of the age of fourescore yeeres, with suche youth∣iy feruencie of mynde, but with aged rypenesse of discretion, des∣cended into that his Pyerial contention: Nor Scocrates in the fourescore & fourteenth yeere of his age, accomplished that his feruent and wonderful woorke: Nor Sophocles wel neare an hundred, beyng the flower of all tragicall wryters, had finished his tragidie called Oedipus: Nor Cato, that was aboue foure∣score and tenne yeeres olde, with no change of voyce, or alte∣ration of strength, or default of memorie, eyther would haue defended hym selfe in an haynous accusation, or accused most famous Orators of his owne accorde in open iudgment.

Sorowe.

I haue an vntrustie memorie.

Reason.

Then trust it not, call it often to an accompt, whatsoeuer thou hast committed vnto it, requyre it speedely, and that which thou shouldest doo to morowe, doo it to day, it is not good to defer: and thus yf thou canst, wrest good out of euyl. The fayth of a felowe brcedeth flouthfulnesse, and falshood procureth diligence.

Sorow.

I haue almost no memorie at al.

Reason.

Suche is the state of mans condition, that he whiche remembreth fewest thinges, hath the lesse cause of complayntes, in whiche case there is no amendment nor place of profitable repentance, what els remayneth then, then the helpe of obliuion?

Of lacke of eloquence. The .cii. Dialogue.

SOROW.

I Lacke eloquence.

Reason.

Thou lackest one of the in∣strumentes to get hatred, acknowledge the benefites of nature, whiche instrument as it hath taken from thee a great power ouer doubeful suters, so hath it taken no smal prerogatiue of fortune from thy selfe, for many haue perished through eloquence. If thou doubt of this, aske of the princes of both eloquence: for as touchyng the briefer sort of Oratours, al histories are full that for this cause they haue peryshed in euery place: Among whom he is most nearest vnto danger, that is most excellent of fame, and best knowen. There are some vnto whom the obscurenesse of their name, hath been the castle of their defence. But admit that they whiche are eloquent be out of danger, yet neuer want they trauayle. In al the worlde there is nothing so vayne, for whiche so many labours, so long watchynges are willyngly vndertaken: this flickering breath so exerciseth mens mindes, as though there were some vertue in their wordes.

Sorow.

I haue no elo∣quence.

Reason.

But thou hast much securitie, whiche per∣happes thou shouldest not haue, yf thou hadst muche eloquence: for many had lyued more safely in their lyfe, yf so be they had lyued not so eminent in fame.

Sorow.

I haue no eloquence at al.

Reason.

Then see that thou haue some wyt, some inno∣cencie, some vertue: For eloquence belongeth but to a fewe per∣sons, but vertue vnto al. Let not the notable rarenesse of Poetes, or of Orators, which is more geason, drawe thee away: yea ra∣ther beholde howe sodenly I change my mynde, yf rarenesse allure thee, folowe this, for it is the way vnto it. It is a beauie case, that as there is nothyng more better then vertue, so there is nothyng more rare. Eloquence it selfe, whiche I sayde belon∣geth vnto fewe, is muche more frequented then vertue: so stan∣deth the case, that that whiche al may vse, al doo neglect, and that whiche very fewe can atteyne vnto, all men desire, all men do practise.

Sorow.

I am voyde of wordes.

Reason.

Apply thy mind vnto deedes: For in toordes there is breath, & la∣bour, and speeche, and in deedes, quietnesse, vertue, and felicitie.

Sorow.

I cannot speake.

Reason.

Many that knowe lytle in a matter, wyl take muche vpon them. Set a foole on horse∣backe, or one that hath no skyl to ryde, and thou shalt haue muche a do to get hym downe a gayne: let shame at the length put thee to silence, yf nothyng els wyl cause thee to holde thy peace: and though thou knowest not howe to speake that other may heare thee, yet learne to heare other men when they do speake. There is no lesse cunning to hold a mans peace then to speake, although to be silent it be a more safe and easie matter.

Sorow.

I cannot expresse that whiche is in my hart.

Reason.

If thou haue a good vnderstandyng and art endued with an high & mag∣nifical sense of the mynde, and haue not thereunto a pleasant voyce and reedie tongue, be contented: Assaye not often to do that which hath but euyl successe with thee. What is there then to be done? Vse that good whiche thou hast, not onely indifferently, but also merily: leaue that vnto another man, whiche is another mans, and spende not thy speeche, nor weery not thy tongue in vayne. Suffer, I say, other men to speake, & vnderstand thou, forsomuch as there is a more secrete, and delicate pleasure in the meditation of the minde, then in the vtterance of the tongue, beyng both of lon∣ger continuance, & also hauing in it more quietnesse, & lesse enuie.

Sorowe.

Shame restrayneth me from speaking before many.

Reason.

It is wel knowen, that this hath chaunced vnto men of great estimation, for want of audacitie, & not by the default eyther of y^t tongue or wyt. That which thou refusest to speake before ma∣ny, do it before a few, & in the presence of one: & although I con∣fesse y^t the open speeches be most famous, yet canst thou not deny but that priuat talke is more sweete. If thou canst not do so ney∣ther, then returne to thy selfe, common with thy selfe, as I haue ad∣monished thee before, & awake y^t domestical talking cōpanion: for he is alwaies presēt with thee, he wil not lye in wayte for thee, he wyl not mocke thee, he wil not enuie thee, he wyl not loath thee, he wil not looke for any exact or laboursome eloquence of thee, he is pleased with familiar talke, and enterrupted speeches, yea & ofttimes when thou hast said much, he is contented that thou hold thy peace. Learne thou to content thy selfe with his presence only, who taketh no regard how, but what thou speakest, or rather

what thou wouldest speake. Learne to build vp a most honest thea∣ter, euen in the middest of thine hart. Learne, not to seeke after the pompe and glory of men, but of the trueth, and to reioyce ofte∣times without any noyse of the people, and let modestie despyse that, whiche perfect eloquence doth most tymes cleane extin∣guishe. To be short, learne not to lyue to the shewe, learne not to speake with pryde, then the whiche there is no greater mischeefe in the whole lyfe of man to be founde.

Sorowe.

I haue an im∣pediment in my speeche.

Reason.

Doest thou lament that thou hast some thyng lyke as Moyses had, beyng so woorthy a man as he was, and so familiar with God? But yf thou looke in∣to old hystories, or marke the examples of latter tyme, and in these dayes, howe many good men shalt thou finde that had impedi∣mentes in their speeche, and howe many wycked that were very eloquent? So are there very fewe vnto whom both these haue hap∣pened, to wit, singuler eloquence, and excellent vertue.

Of losse of the tongue and speeche. The .ciii. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

WHat sayest thou, that I haue lost both my tongue & my speeche also?

Reason.

What if thou haue founde securicie & rest? How many doth the tongue beate downe and ouerthrowe that are gyltlesse of do∣ing any harme? It is a foolyshe pleasure, but truely very common of some that would seeme to haue done that whiche they neyther do, nor can doo. He lyed that sayde he had stayne the kyng of the Israelites and his sonne, and yet being innocent of the deede was punished for his lye, when he had escaped the danger of the battel. How great labour it is to speake, to answere, to faigne, to lye, to smooth vp wordes, to wey sentences, to bethynke howe and what to speake, and sweetely to beate the ayre, for so they desire a voyce, and after what sort thou oughtest to moue, not ouly thy tongue, but also thy whole body, for euen vnto this poynt there is one part of Rethorique doth reache: howe when thou musest, thou must looke downe on the grounde, whiche

hande, and also whether thou must thrust it foorth, with whiche foote thou must stampe on the ground. Is not (thinkest thou) this finenesse troublesome inough, and to take the paynes to learne some indifferent sight in musicke, that thou mayest thereby sound thy woordes the more sweetly? is it not in very deede then a labour to speake, and a quietnesse to holde a mans peace?

Sorow.

I can speake to no purpose.

Reason.

Those thynges which I sayde in the lacke of eloquence, may more aptly be repea∣ted in the losse of the tongue. Then since thou canst not speake, hold thy peace, and that whiche necessitie byddeth thee to do, do it wyllyngly. Whiche thyng, they that can speake myght do many tymes more profitably, and repeate them often that they haue not donne so. Holde thy peace, I say, and thinke not that thou sustaynest any losse: thinke with thy lelfe secretly, and speake with thy selfe in priuitie, whiche to be better then to speake in o∣pen assembly, they that are eloquent cannot deny.

Sorowe.

I am fallen dumbe.

Reason.

If Cicero and Demosthenes had been dumbe, they had lyued longer, and dyed a more gentle death.

Sorow.

I haue quite lost the vse of my tongue.

Reason.

And the custome of lying, and the artes of deceyuing, and the instrument of purchasing enmitie and infamie: for many are be∣come more infamous for their tongue, then for their deedes. There is no part of the body reedier to hurt, and harder to bridle. Therefore, not without cause (as some great and rare matter) vttered he those woordes, who sayde, I wyl looke vnto my wayes that I offende not with my tongue. Whiche when a certayne holy man, who came to the studie of diuinitie had hearde, is reported to haue departed away, and that he would heare no more thereof. And when as, after a long season, his maister marueylyng, de∣maunded of hym why he had been so long absent from his stu∣die whiche he had begun: he ausweared, that the very first worde had geuen hym enough to do, and that he could not fulfyl that one poynt by any his labour or traueyl whatsoeuer. See thou despise not this gouernment nor bridle, whiche is offered vnto thee ey∣ther by nature or fortune, but wyllyngly yelde thy selfe to be ru∣led, and spurne not agaynst thine owne destinie.

Sorow.

I haue lost my tongue.

Reason.

Nowe kepe thou with al di∣ligence

that which the wyse man wylleth thee, to wyt, thyne hart, and beyng called from two careful watchynges vnto one, and dis∣charged from the one moitie of thy labour, thou mayest the more easily keepe a fewe, and more warely guard precious thynges.

Sorow.

I haue lost my tongue.

Reason.

In a certayne fewe men this is a noble and excellent member, but in the greater sort of the people, very pestilent and noysome, and a great deale better that many had wanted it. Whiche is not only seene to be true in a seruant, in that the Satirike Poet sayth, The tongue is the worst part of an euyl seruant, but also in many free per∣sons, vnto whom nature hath geuen nothing woorse then their tongue. Warres, deceites, adulteries, and al kynde of abuses (for the most part) should surceasse, dyd not the tongue cast abrode and nouryshe their euyl seedes.

Sorow.

I haue lost my tongue.

Reason.

If an euyll one, thou hast gayned much: For it is great ryches, to be poore in wyckednesse. Who so hath not these, is borne ryche, but who so looseth them, is made ryche, and his lyuing beyng encreased with a newe re∣uenewe, hath founde that by loosing, whiche he had lost by find∣yng. But yf thou haue lost a good tongue, I say agayne keepe thy hart. Thou hast lost that wherewith thou mightest please men, keepe that wherewith thou mayest please God: vnto whom yf thou canst not speake with thy tongue, yet talke vnto hym with thy hart. For yf it be written of the wycked, Lying lyppes are in their hart, and with their hart they haue spoken: why are not godly lyppes in the hart of the ryghteous, that they also may speake in their hart, where∣as are the eares of God? And that is true, whiche the same man wrytech in an other place, My mouth is not hydden from thee, whiche thou madest in secret. For there is no thought, be it neuer so secrete, that is hidden from God, neyther hea∣reth he lesse them that speake softly, then those that crye a∣loude: yea, he heareth no clamour, be it more or lesse, before the clamour and crying out of the hart, for he harkeneth vn∣to none but that, and he is delited with silence. This cla∣mour, dyd he that was first a keeper of sheepe, and afterwarde

a most famous shepheard of the people of God, restrayne within the closure of his lyppes, who deserued to heare the voyce of God saying vnto hym, Why cryest thou vnto me? He spake not, but he cryed, yea he spake, but it was with the hart. And lyke as he that heareth God is not deafe, so he whom God heareth is not dumbe.

Of want of vertue. The .ciiii. Dialogue.

SOROW.

BVt I am without vertue.

Reason.

An hurt in deede, a iust sorowe, sauing that al other wantes may happen to be eyther natural, or casual, or violent, but this doubtlesse is voluntarie. For other are eyther in the body, or in the wyt, or in the memory, or in the speech, or in some outwarde thyng one or other, al which happen not accordyng as a man woulde wyshe, but as euery mans fortune chaunceth: but this onely consisteth in will, whiche euery one guydeth and disposeth at his owne plea∣sure. For a man can require none other good wyll of an∣other man, then he is disposed to shewe whose wyll it is, wher∣by he wylleth this thing or that thyng. Otherwyse, as de∣fectes happen vnto men, of strength, or of speeche, or of ryches agaynst their willes, so shoulde of their wylles also: neyther shoulde vertue deserue rewarde, nor vice merite punishment. But nowe, not a wyl vnto you to do this or that, but a libertie to chose this or that was geuen you at your byrth, whiche beyng applyed vnto that whiche is good, maketh you good, but conuerted vnto euill, maketh you euyll. The same may you vse as you lust, and yf you lust ye may vse it well, whiche doubtlesse is the gyft of God, as yf ye abuse it, it is a great peruersitie of the wyller: but it cannot be otherwyse cho∣sen, but that a good wyll is the roote of vertue, as an euyl wyll is the roote of vice. And thus there is none that suffereth a

want of vertue, but he that wyl, for that the greatest & cheefest part of vertue consisteth in y^e wil.

Sorow.

Yea I would haue ver∣tue, but I cannot get it.

Reason.

Many there be, that thinke they woulde haue that whiche they wyl not, and that they woulde that whiche they wyl: thus euery one deceiueth hym selfe, and ende∣uoureth to perswade not onely hym selfe but others, that he is de∣sirous of good, neyther perswadeth any more easily how delecta∣ble true vertue is, since that the false opinion of vertue so muche deliteth, that it is pleasant vnto hym to deceyue the people, and his freendes, and moreouer by them to be deceyued.

Sorow.

I knowe that I would fayne, but I cannot be good.

Reason.

Admit it be so, it sufficeth not to haue a will, vnlesse thou haue also a desire, and that not indifferent, but vehement. But you most greedily desire your owne harmes, and coldly your commodities: whereby it commeth to passe, that there be many ryche, but very fewe good. For what marueyle is it, yf your feruent intention at∣tayne sooner to the thing ye wyshe, then your slowe wyl?

Sorow.

I woulde be good yf I coulde.

Reason.

Endeuour, for thou mayest, and yf thou wouldest vnfainedly, begyn now, but eschewe slouthfulnesse. For yf the smallest thinges be not ••••gotten for nought, what mayest thou hope of vertue, then whiche there is nothyng greater, nor hygher among the affayres of men? Ima∣gine not of her as of a step out of the way from cares, but as of the redie and onely passage vnto felicitie. Be at leasure vnto her, and folowe after her with al thy force and possible myght of thy mynde, and applye not some part of thy leasure vnto her, as yf it were vnto some certayne exercise, but as vnto that whiche is the ordinarie duetie of lyfe, whiche wyl make thee blessed, and that thou shalt want nothing. Employ al thy time, and thy whole study, which thou hast often bestowed vpon most vyle thynges, and cal to thy remembrance that more holesome & effectual (then fine) saying of Marcus Varro in his booke of Satires: If thou haddest sayth he, bestowed the twelfth part of thy payne in the stu∣die of Philosophie, whiche thou hast employed in ouerseeing thy ba∣ker that he myght make thee good bread, thou haddest eare this tyme been good. Whiche I would haue thee to vnderstande thus, not that thou acknowledge thy selfe to be indebted for thy health vnto

the earthly Philosophie, whiche promiseth a continuance by fre∣quentation of the actions, which howe muche it is to be credited, they that haue experimented doo knowe: but rather vnto the hea∣uenly wysedome, whiche is a most excellent preseruer, and also the counsayles and aydes of vertue, and the health whiche thereby is purchased: and thou must also acknowledge with duetiful con∣fession, and a thankefull minde, that to be true whiche is written, No man can lyue continually, vnlesse it be geuen hym of God. And this is a poynt of wysedome, to knowe whose gyft it is, whiche, thynke to be spoken vnto thee by name, and it may be lykewyse applyed vnto all vertues.

Sorowe.

I desyre very much to be good, but I am not.

Reason.

Whether thou doo earnestly desyre or not, the effect wyll prooue: Continuance is a token of a feruent good wyll. For whether vertue be the free gyfte of God, (and truly that heauenly geuer scarsly bestoweth it vpon any but suche as constantly desyre it, and earnestly require it in hartie prayer:) or whether in so great a matter any part of humane wysedome be of force, truely so weyghtie a thyng requireth both earnest intention, and long and continual exercise. For that which is gotten by studie, commeth not suddenly, so that, which way so euer thou turne thy selfe, thou oughtest to haue a perseueryng minde. Wherefore, omitting and neglecting all other thynges, applie these matters, whiche thou shalt the more couragiously, yf thou beare in minde, and haue alwayes written before thine eyes, that to this ende, and none other, thou camest into this earthly ha∣bitation, and that this one thyng is required of thee, that by the steppes of vertue, thou clymbe vp to heauen, and that whatsoe∣uer thou doo els, is eyther needelesse, or hurtfull.

Of couetousnesse. The .Cv. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I AM troubled with the prickes of couetousnesse.

Reason.

Thou namest them well prickes: for there are certayne prickes of desyre in the gettyng of ryches, and goodes when they are gotten are verie thornes, for so he tearmeth

them who cannot lye: Woorthie ryches, whiche trouble men both in the gettyng of them, and when they be gotten. But yf thou consyder thyne owne carkas, yf thy nature, yf the shortnesse of thy lyfe, thou shalt perceyue that thou art greeued with vayne cares, and couetest muche, but lackest lytle. And moreouer, howe that whylest thou gapest after gettyng more, thou hast no regarde of that whiche is alredie gotten, and so after a man∣ner, leesect that whiche thou shouldest seeke after, then whiche, there is nothyng more foolyshe.

Sorowe.

I am vrged with the desyre to get muche.

Reason.

And yet thou perceyuest not, howe that the tyme wasteth, and thy lyfe also passeth away, whyle muche is gotten. And thus a great perplexitie hapneth, whyle ye seeme to abounde in lyfe, and to want wealth, and whyle that want passeth away, there commeth another, and when ye abounde in wealth, ye want lyfe. Of this was not that wyse man ignoraunt, whereas he speaketh of the sparer that sayde, I wyl seeke rest vnto my selfe, and wyl nowe eate alone of my goodes: And he perceyueth not howe the tyme passeth away, and how he leaueth al that he hath, when he dyeth, vnto other. And in another place he sayth, He that heapeth vp ryches together vnrighteously, gathereth for other, that shal riotously consume his goodes. O terri∣ble saying, whiche we see yet to be true euery day before our eyes, but notwithstanding nothing profiting the mindes of the coue∣tous. And againe he sayth, There is nothyng more wicked, then a co∣uetous person, nor more vngodly, then to loue money. And to the en∣tent thou mayest perceiue how all thinges agree in the trueth, as Aristotle sayth, beholde how the Heathen Philosopher, agreeth with the Ecclesiastical wyse man, Men ought, sayth Cicero, to eschewe the desire of money: for there is no signe so great of a base and a vile minde, as to loue money.

Of enuie and malice. The .Cvj. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Doo beare enuie.

Reason.

The aboue named affection wyshed well vnto thee, but this meaneth euyll vnto other, and by so muche is this woorse then that, and malice more discommendable then couetousnesse Verie well therefore

sayth the same wyse man, of whom I spake euen nowe, The eye of the malitious is wicked, but the eye of the couetouse is neuer satis∣fied.

Sorowe.

I am tormented with enuie.

Reason.

Ty∣rantes of Sicile, founde no greater torment then enuie, as sayth Horace the Poet: whiche is nowe translated, by meanes of a pestilent Southerne winde, vnto your Tyrantes and Princes.

Sorowe.

I am vexed with enuie.

Reason.

Thou dooest both offende, and art also punished by present and redie iustice.

Sorowe.

The prosperitie of my neyghbour, breedeth enuie within me.

Reason.

Truely I beleeue thee: But there is none of you that enuieth at the king of the Parthians or Persians, nor any of them that enuieth at you. The tyme hath been, when ye enuied one at another, for that your Empire was so great, that you were borderers one on another. But suffiseth it ye not to be greeued with your owne euylles that are so many, but that other folkes prosperitie must also afflict you, and make you alto∣gether mad and miserable?

Sorowe.

I spite at my neygh∣bours.

Reason.

A common matter, malice is bleare eyed, and can not see farre of: Neyghbourhood and prosperitie are pa∣rentes vnto enuie.

Sorowe.

I enuie at other mens good estate.

Reason.

If thou be enuious, thou must needes also be base minded: of all vices, there is none more sluggyshe then en∣uie, it can not ascende into hygh mindes, neyther is there any more wretched, and therefore all other presuppose some good thyng, although it be false, but this is onely nourished with euyls, and greeued with good, and suffereth that euyll it selfe, whiche it wysheth to others. And therefore I lyke well of the saying of Alexander Kyng of Macedonie, to wit, That malicious men are nothyng els, but their owne tormenters: Truely, a graue saying, of so lyght a young Prince.

Of wrath. The .Cvij. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

BVT I am angrie.

Reason.

I haue promised comfort a∣gaynst aduersitie, and not agaynst vices: as for these, they are not casuall, but voluntarie, and in your owne power,

who then shall constrayne thee to be angry?

Sorowe.

I am angrie when I am offended.

Reason.

Perhaps he whom thou blamest for offendyng thee, complayneth that thou hast offended hym: the offences are not so great, as is your insolencie maruey∣lous.

Sorowe.

I burne with wrath.

Reason.

Then art thou mad: And wrath, sayth Horace, is a short madnesse; but many (through euyl custome and impatience) doo make it a long madnesse. For Ennius sayth, That anger is the beginning of mad∣nesse, seeyng that vnto many that geue them selues ouer vnto it, it maketh an ende both of their madnesse and lyfe also. For as the plague (whereof we disputed before) euen so this lykewyse, al∣though it trouble other, yet doth it most torment the possesser thereof: so that I marueyle the more for what cause it shoulde seeme vnto some, to be (I knowe not howe) sweeter then hony: reuenge perhappes may haue in it some tast of cruell and sauage pleasure, but surely anger hath nothyng in it but bitternesse.

Sorow.

I am angrie for iniuries.

Reason.

There was neuer any almost so hastily disposed, that woulde be angrie for nothyng, vnlesse perhaps it were Caelius the Senatour, the angriest man that euer lyued, who when as his client agreed with hym in all poyntes, & confessed whatsoeuer he required of hym, yet cryed he out (being angrie) saying, Say somewhat contrarie, that we may disagree. A wylfull man truely: howe woulde he haue borne in∣iuries, that coulde not beare gentle speeche?

Sorowe.

I am angrie, for that I am prouoked by offence.

Reason.

On this syde men commonly offende very muche: they picke quarrelles, and seeke occasions, and in those causes, for which they may iustly be angrie, their wrath exceedeth measure. In all offences there is some excuse alleaged, and the excuse it selfe is an offence: but thou, because thou art not obeyed as a God, art wroth, and GOD him selfe is euery day prouoked in woordes and deedes, but is not al∣wayes angrie. As for you, ye drawe euery ouerthwart woorde, be it neuer so small, vnto some haynous crime of lyfe and death, wherein you shewe your selues to be an impacient generation.

Sorowe.

I am angrie with them that haue deserued it.

Reason.

If of thee, it is yll doone, yf of the Common wealth, and it be not doone in anger, but for the loue of Iustice, it is very well: and

to speake breefely, that saying of Tully is precisely to be kept, to witte, that anger be farre of, with which nothyng can be ryght∣ly and discreetely handled. And therefore the saying of Archy∣tas Tarentinus is woorthyly commended, and also the deede of his freende Plato, of whom the one, when beyng wholy occu∣pied in the studie of learnyng, he sawe his goodes destroyed and wasted through the negligence of his Baylife, turnyng hym selfe towardes hym: truely (quoth he) I woulde punyshe thee accor∣dyng to thy desart, vnlesse I were nowe angrie with thee. The other beyng offended with his seruaunt, dyd not let hym goe freely as Archytas dyd, but committed hym vnto one of his freendes to be punished, fearyng lest that the vehemencie of an∣ger shoulde enforce hym farther then reason woulde require. These and suche lyke examples, ought to moderate mens anger, lest haply, as commonly it chaunceth, it dryue them headlong in∣to infamie, and destruction.

Of Gluttonie. The .Cviij. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I AM molested with gluttonie.

Reason.

I sayde erwhyle, that I take those thynges in cure onely, that happen vnto men agaynst theyr wylles: for who wyll heale them that are wyllyngly sicke and diseased?

Sorowe▪

I am vexed with gluttonie.

Reason.

Properly spoken in deede: for there is nothyng so vyle, that maketh you so carefull. It is woonder∣full and sha••••efull to thynke, wherevnto the disposition of man∣kynde, whiche was created vnto hygher matters, doth encline it selfe, since that forsakyng the coastes of the lande, ye goe a∣bout to searche out the see••e••e tractes of the Sea and Ayre. Ye haue veuised Ne••••es, and Hookes, and Byrdlime, and Snares, and Hawkes also ••e ••aue ••aught to come and goe at your com∣maundement, and to pray for your pleasure, and for nothyng els, but to serue your throtes, whiche you cloy not onely with fyllyng, but also with ouerburdenyng, and by sundrie meanes you oppresse your slender bellie, by too muche followyng the greedinesse thereof, for whiche hunger were muche more con∣uenient,

but sobrietie most profitable aboue of all other thynges: when as ye ought rather to geue some rest vnto that filthie and miserable paunche of yours, and to leaue some quietnesse vnto the Wooddes, Cloudes, and Riuers. But thus goeth the worlde, and this is the maner, specially among Noblemen, these are the arces whiche sometyme beyng liberall, are nowe become Handi∣craftes, whiche ye applie: and they that were wont to be Gene∣ralles of Armies, and Philosophers, and Gouerners of Cities, and Fathers of theyr Countrey, are nowe become Hunters, and Faulkoners, that thou mayest vnderstande, howe that there is nowe no hope of saluation remainyng. That is ascribed vnto Nobilitie, whiche is gluttonie, or rather playne vanitie. This mischiefe is by noneother meanes better beaten downe, then by a certayne noble disdayne and indignation, and by vpryght consideration of the thyng it selfe, eyther by lytle and lytle, as Ci∣cero lyketh it, or suddenly, as Aristotle thynketh it good. It auayleth very muche to thynke vpon the ende, which beyng a ge∣nerall rule in all vices, yet is it most effectuall in this vice, and also in letcherie.

Of sluggyshnesse of the minde. The .Cjx. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Am sluggyshe in doing of businesse.

Reason.

What mar∣ueile, yf after so diligent studie of gluttonie, sluggyshnesse of the minde do followe the heauinesse and ouerburrdening of the bodye?

Sorowe.

I am greeued with dulnesse of minde.

Reason.

This dulnesse springeth from an imperfect wyl, but so soone as thou shalt beginne to bende thine endeuour, it wyl growe to an earnest desire and courage, which being very yll vnto many thynges, is most commendable vnto vertue.

Sorowe.

I am slouthful, and sluggysh to ryse vnto any good woorkes.

Reason.

There is a certayne dulnesse in the minde, and also a couragious feruencie engraffed in a part of the minde, whiche feruencie wyll be set on fyre, and dulnesse shaken of, by consyderyng the swyftnesse of tyme in passyng away, whiche is so great, that

there is no minde, be it neuer so swyfte, that is able to measure it: and also the surpassyng beautie of vertue, whiche is so loue∣lie, that yf it coulde be seene with the bodily eyes, as Plato sayth, it woulde rauyshe men woonderfully with the loue thereof. Therefore, let loue on the one syde, and feare on the other styrre thee vp, for both of them are very effectuall: for neyther he that loueth, neyther he that hateth, can commonly be dull and slug∣gyshe: and yet notwithstandyng, ye ryse in the nyght tyme vnto diuine seruice, wherein ye pray that hurtfull sleepe and sluggyshnes oppresse you not: there is no place for sleepe nor sluggyshuesse, when as death frayeth you on the one syde, and vertue on the other. For who coulde euer be slouthfull and care∣lesse in great dangers, or great aduauncementes? Whensoeuer thou haft respect vnto these, courage wyll resort to the minde, and sleepe wyll flye from the eyes, when ye thynke with your selues, howe muche imperfection remayneth within you, and howe muche tyme ye haue spent in idlenesse: whereof when men haue no consyderation, we see howe they spende long ages vn∣profitably, and heare olde men wonderyng and amazed to say: What haue we doone heere these many yeeres? We haue eaten, drunken, and slept, and nowe at last we are awaked too late. The cheefe cause whereof is this sluggyshnesse, whereof thou complaynest, whiche in tyme ought to be dryuen away by the prickes of industrie, and the brydle of foresyght, least that by ouer∣long staying, thou be caried away with the multitude, vnto a dishonourable ende.

Of Letcherie. The .Cx. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I AM shaken with the vehemencie of Letcherie.

Reason.

Letcherie is begotten by slouthfulnesse, and brought foorth by gluttonie: what maruell is it then, yf the daughter fol∣lowe her parentes? As for gluttonie and letcherie, they are common vnto you with beastes, and that they make your lyfe more beastly, then any other thyng, wyse men haue so iudged: and therefore although there be many mischiefes

more greeuous, yet is there none more vyle.

Sorowe.

I am carryed away with Letcherie.

Reason.

Whyther I pray thee, but vnto death, both of the bodye and soule, and infamous ignominie, and too late, and perhappes vnprofitable repentance? Goe thy wayes nowe, and followe her that carrieth thee away vnto suche endes. Thynke vppon the miserable and notorious chaunces of innumerable, not onely priuate men, but also Cities and Kyngdomes, whiche partly by syght, and partly by heare∣say, but specially by readyng, ought to be very well knowen, and then I suppose thou wylt not geue thy hande vnto this vice to followe it. Heare what the best learned haue iudged, and writ∣ten concernyng this matter, Pleasures, sayth Cicero, beyng most flatteryng Ladyes, doo wreast the greater partes of the mynde from vertue. To this ende, sayth Seneca, they embrace vs, that they may strangle vs, whiche none otherwyse then Theeues that lay wayte for traueylers vppon the way, and leade them aside, to murther them, ought to be auoyded. Wherein it shall muche a∣uayle, yf whosoeuer shall feele hym selfe infected with this mis∣cheefe, doo imagine that most excellent sayeing of Scipio Afri∣cane in Liuie, whiche he spake vnto king Masinissa, to be spo∣ken vnto hym selfe: Vanquishe thy minde, quoth he, and take heede thou doo not deforme many good giftes with one vice, and corrupt the beautie of so many desartes, with a greater faulte then the cause of the faulte is. The whiche shalbe doone the more easily, yf a man doo thynke earnestly vppon the vilenesse, fylthinesse, shortnesse, and ende of the thyng, and also the long reproche, and the short time, and howe perhappes the pleasure of one breefe moment, shalbe punished with the repentaunce of many yeeres, and peraduenture with euerlastyng damnation.

Of Pryde. The .Cxj. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I AM lyfted vp with pryde.

Reason.

Earth and ashes, why art thou proude? Canst thou that art oppres∣sed with the burden of so many mischiefes, be lyfted vp with

pride? Who yf thou were free from them al, and were lyfted vp by the wynges of al vertues, yet were al thy good gyftes defiled with this vyce only: For there is nothing more hateful vnto God, then pryde. By this fel he that was created in most excellent es∣tate, by which thou beyng a sinner thinkest to aryse. If it hap∣ned so vnto hym for this one thing, what doest thou thinke wyl befall vnto thee, in whom this wickednesse is ioyned with other vices? Thou hast heaped a naughtie weight vpon thy burden.

Sorow.

I am carried with pryde.

Reason.

Why shouldest thou be so, I pray thee? Doest thou not remember that thou art mortal, that thou wearest away euery day, that thou art a sinner, that thou art subiect to a thousand chaunces, and in danger euery day to vncertayne death, and finally, that thou art in wretched case? And hast thou not also heard the most famous saying of Homer, The earth nourisheth nothyng more wretched then man? I woulde fayne knowe whiche of these doth most cheefely pricke thee foorth vnto pryde, whether the imbecilitie of the body, or the whole armie of sickenesses, or the shortnesse of lyfe, or the blyndenesse of the minde, whiche continually waue∣reth betweene most vayne hope and perpetual feare, or the for∣getfulnesse of that whiche is past, or the ignorance of that whiche is to come and present, or the treacherie of enimies, or the death of freendes, or continuing aduersitie, or flytting prosperitie? By these and none other ladders ye ascend vnto pryde, by these ye ryse to ruine. All other dangers wherein men do walter, haue some excuse, although it be vniust: but pryde and enuie haue no coloure at al.

Sorow.

I am sorie that I am proud.

Reason.

To be sorie for sinne, is the first degree to saluation. And as it is the nature of pryde to lyft vp, so is it of humili∣tie to be sorie and submit it selfe, whiche thou shalt do the more easye, so soone as thou turnest thyne eyes earnestly vpon thy selfe: whiche being so, I am not mynded, neyther ought I to heape vp vnto theeaucthorities wrytten in bookes agaynst vices: This only shalbe sufficient, that thou knowe, that so soone as euer thou be disposed vnfeignedly, al these matters wyl surceasse immediatly, and whensoeuer, as they say, thou shalt blowe the retreate, & retire to thyne ensignes, as touchyng

this present mischeefe. This one thyng I wyl say moreouer: that pryde is a sickenesse of wretches, and fooles: for doubtlesse they be suche that be proud, otherwyse I am sure they woulde neuer be proud, neyther is it written without cause in the booke of Wisedome: That al that are foolysh & vnfortunate, are proud about the measure of their soule. And truely, yf they were wyse for their soules health, their meane were to abase their estate, knowyng their owne imbecilitie. For so thou readest it written in the same booke: He that is a king to day, shal dye to morow. And when a man dyeth, he shal haue serpentes, and beastes, and woormes for his inhe∣ritance. The begynning of pryde is to fal from God, for that he forsaketh hym that made hym, and forasmuche as pryde is the beginnyng of al sinne. Thou knowest al other thynges, which be∣ing diligently weighed, thou shalt perceyue howe foule a monster a proude man is.

Of Agues. The .cxii. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Burne with Agues.

Reason.

This heat wyl ende in pro∣cesse of tyme, or els with colde: whiche euer of the twayne it be, it is well.

Sorow.

I am greeued with agues.

Reason.

All this motion agaynst nature, is of more vehemencie then continuance, and of these twayne it alwayes doth the one, eyther it clenseth the body, or setteth the soule at libertie.

Sorowe.

I am holden with Agues.

Reason.

Stay a whyle, thou shalt not long be holden: for eyther thou shalt soone be discharged thereof, or set at libertie: and eyther of them is very good.

Sorowe.

I am sicke of an Ague.

Reason.

Thou shalt be at quiet anon: nature striueth with death, attend the ende of the battayle, for the houre draweth nygh, which shal eyther free thee from thy sickensse, or discharge thee from al.

Sorow.

I burne with the Ague.

Reason.

It is lesse harme for the bodye to burne then the foule, whereof thou madest thy last seuen complayntes: and howe yf the scort∣ching of the one, be medicinable for the other? Finally, how much more better is it by a short cast of the euyles of this present lyfe, to be put in mynde of the euerlastyng punishment, to the ende that

men may study to auoyde infinite bitternesse, who so greeuously susteyne the sharpenesse of a fewe houres, and by these troubles learne to flye them, from whiche neyther the Phisition, nor her∣bes, nor the critical day, nor death can delyuer them?

Sorowe.

I trye with the Feuer.

Reason.

The woormes meate is ro∣sted: suffer thy selfe to be burned for other, for whom other meates haue been so often tymes burned, and take aduisement of the pu∣nishment. Many euyles haue stoode in steede of remedies: a smal greefe in the present tyme hath often geuen men occasion to pro∣uide for greater to come, and that whiche was paineful becom∣meth profitable. Happie is that short burnyng, whiche is the cause of eternal ioy.

Sorowe.

I am molested with the Ague.

Reason.

Nowe shalt thou be an vpryght iudge of prosperous health. For you men beyng an vnthankeful generation, cannot acknow∣ledg the giftes of God, vnlesse they be lost, or surceasse.

Sorow.

I am sore vexed with a greiuous ague.

Reason.

Ye cannot long continue togither. No man can burne long: For either thou wilt shortly forsake thine ague, or else thine ague wil leaue thee.

Of the payne of the guttes, and Traunce. The .cxiii Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Suffer the payne of the guttes.

Reason.

Begyn to hope, for there can happen now nothing more greeuous vnto thee. For lyke as it is the begynning of sorowe, to come to the vt∣termost degree of pleasure, so lykewyse the extremitie of so∣rowe must needes be the begynning of pleasure. This is the lawe of contraries, that the one spryngeth from the ende of the other.

Sorowe.

I am tormented with the Iliake passion.

Reason.

It is, I confesse, an hard kynde of comfort, that a man can suffer nothing more bitter.

Sorowe.

I am vexed with the Iliake passion.

Reason.

Who so is sorie and feareth, is in wretched case: but feare, which is the one halfe of miserie, is taken from thee on euery side: for whereof, I pray thee, neede he to be afeard, who hopeth for death whereof aboue al thynges men stande

most in dreade?

Sorowe.

I am martyred with the payne in the gu••tes.

Reason.

Whyle thou lyuest learne to dye, and that which must be done but once, assay thou to do often, & then at length thou shalt do that more safely once, whiche thou hast assay∣ed to do so often: for that whiche thou doest then, shalbe no strange thyng to thee. The payne in the guttes, is muche lyke vnto death, sauing that death is shorter and easier, so that he that can beare that payne valiantly, vnlesse some other feare come be∣tweene and alter the case, shal much more valiantly endure death.

Sorowe.

I am torne in peeces by the iliacke passion.

Reason.

The vehemencie of the payne promiseth an ende: for there is no man long a dying.

Sorow.

Yea, the very payne dri∣ueth me into a sounde.

Reason.

The long paynes of feauers thou passest ouer with one breathyng.

Sorowe.

I feele howe I am fallen into a traunce.

Reason.

A man shall scarce perceyue when it is comming: for it commeth sodenly, and when it is come, it presently depriueth the vnderstandyng of all force.

Sorowe.

I begynne to faint.

Reason.

O, happie art thou, that shalt passe ouer so assured and hard a thyng without sense.

Sorowe.

I fall oft tymes into a traunce.

Reason.

Thou returnest often from death to lyfe.

Sorowe.

I fal very often into a deadly traunce.

Reason.

Thou canst not fal into that twyce. For none dyeth more then once: and whiche shoulde be the best kynde of death, there was somtyme disputation among certayne learned and notable men, at whiche was Iulius Caesar in presence, for empire and learnyng a most excellent personage: who also in his latter tyme, as some wryte of hym, vsed many tymes to faynt suddeynly, which question he in this manner determined, concludyng, that a suddeine and vnlooked for death, was of al the most commo∣dious. Whiche opinion, although vnto godlynesse and true re∣ligion it seeme very harde, notwithstandyng euery one that wyse is, but specially godly, and studious of true religion ought so to lyue, that nothyng may befal vnto hym soddenly and vnlooked for, and yf any suche thyng happen to the minde, that the soddennesse thereof hurt it not, but profite also the body.

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.

Of Madnesse. The .cxv. Dialogue.

FEARE.

I Am afeard least ouermuch payne make me mad.

Reason.

Withstande it by wholesome and pleasant thoughtes. Some through manifold passions and affections that are not good nor sounde, do open the way vnto madnesse, and at length fal into perfect furie, lyke as the Philosophers holde opinion that contrariwyse an assured habite or custome of vertue is

gayned by often frequentyng the actions thereof.

Sorowe.

I am afeard of a frenzie.

Reason.

If it be lyke to come through some vice of the minde, arme it with vertue which is the proper armour therof: but yf of the body, thou must aske coun∣sell and succour at the handes of the Phisitions, whiche are the gouernours of mens bodyes. But yf so be that thou haue none neere vnto thee, or yf they that professe that science be vn∣skylfull in thy disease, then wyl I prescribe thee this one rule, to vse abstinence, and flee all excesse. It is no lesse well knowen then auncient, howe that the holy fathers buylde their bodyes with vertue, wherein it muche auay∣leth both the body and minde to brydle Leacherie and Glut∣tonie. Many haue been ouerthrowen by leacherie, many oppressed by surfeite, many consumed with sleepe, many drowned in drunkennesse, and many through the feruen∣cie and outrage of their lyfe, and the furious lycentious∣nesse of their mynde, haue fallen into starke madnesse.

Feare.

I doubt, least naturally I fall into a frenzie.

Reason.

That whiche nature bryngeth may be hard, but not mise∣rable: for why, it wanteth offence, whiche is the roote of mi∣serie. And seeing thou hast the grace to foresee it, folowe this aduice, that yf madnesse cannot be eschewed, yet at the leastwyse it may finde thee in good and perfect estate of soule. For yf thou begyn to wax madde beyng an inno∣cent and without sinne, then shalt thou dye an innocent, or recouer an innocent. There is no age, no holinesse, no wakefulnesse that so wel preserueth innocencie as mad∣nesse doth, looke in what case it taketh a man, in the same it lea∣ueth hym.

Feare.

I am afearde to be mad.

Reason.

Art thou a fearde to haue great personages, Kinges and Queenes to be thy companions? Doest thou disdayne Hercules and Aiax, Hecuba and Cassandra: and in another kynde, Lucretia and Empedocles?

Feare.

I am afeard to be distraught.

Reason.

That dis∣traught persons haue vsed to prophecie of many thynges to come, we haue hearde say, in suche sorte

that no wyse man coulde do the lyke, to suche excellencie hath this vagarant and furious frenzie atteined. And this was the cause, why the Grecians termed that Mantice in their tongue, that is to say, furie, which you in yours cal Diuinatio prophecie.

Feare.

I abhor the force of madnesse.

Reason.

We haue seene the sober sorowful, and the mad merie, although deceiued in their o∣pinion: yea errour also hath it peculiar delites.

Feare.

The feare of beyng mad, molesteth my minde.

Reason.

Some haue sought after rest from labour by counterfeit madnesse, but true furie indeede wyl procure true rest and quietnesse.

Of Poyson. The .cxvi. Dialogue.

FEARE.

I Feare poysonyng.

Reason.

Abstayne from eating and drynkyng commonly abrode, or thou carest not with whom, vse the diligence of thyne assured freendes about thee, suspicious persons expel out of thine house, drynke no thicke wynes, nor troubled drinkes, eschue puddinges, sausages, froyses, and al man∣ner confected and mingled meates, be warie in thy feedyng, vse temperance, and eate not to hastily. Flee greedie deuouryng, whiche hath cast away many both by this way, and by other kyndes of death. Whyle thou sittest at the table let thy hande be slowe, thy eye quicke, thy mynde swyft, and mindeful of the danger, and let not thyne owne eyes, and mynde onely be at∣tentiue, but vse also the dilligence herein of thy freendes and seruantes. Great circumspection preuenteth great dangers, and he that is carelesse may soone be ouertaken.

Feare.

I stand in feare of poysonyng.

Reason.

I haue taught thee a busie medicine: but wylt thou heare the easiest of al? Be poore, and thou shalt not neede to stand in heare of poysonyng. For the meane degree is not in danger to this mischeefe, but is the mother of securitie, and expulser of al terrours, and the most effectual and present remedie, whiche being denyed vnto none, is enforced vpon some agaynst their wylles:

The same is of no lesse vertue, then easie to be had, and doubt∣lesse very safe to be vsed, although in the woorkyng somwhat rough and vnpleasant. The vertues hereof are these: It represseth the swellyng of the mynd, it clenseth malice, it purgeth anger, and cureth the vnsatiable dropsie and desire to drynke and haue, the the more aman hath and drynketh, and the causes of al dangers it plucketh vp by the rootes. Your ryches are ful of deceitful∣nesse and feare, they feare cuppes aswell as swoordes, and dishes no lesse then dartes: there is neyther your table, nor your house, nor your chamber, nor your bed voyd of danger. Al thynges a∣bout you are vncertayne and suspitious, and threaten vnto men pre∣sent death: as Virgil speaketh in a tempest, and may be veri∣fied of you in a calme, and al this is long of your sweete ryches whiche ye loue so entirely. As for pouertie, sauing that it is slaun∣drously reported of by the common people, and for the very name odious vnto them, al thynges are safe in it, and yf euer the vayne glorious desire to be magnified by the multitude shoulde fayle, altogeather pleasant, sweete, quiet, and be wyshed. But learne at length, you earthly creatures, to eate and drynke in glassen and earthen vessels, yf ye wyl eate and drynke in safetie, for poyson is mingled in cuppes of gold and precious stone. O co∣uetousnesse, how farre wylt thou proceede? Yea, poyson is in loue with gold and precious stones, agaynst whiche most wret∣ched plague, neyther the electuarie of Mithridates kyng of Pontus, nor of any other, be he neuer so cunnyng, is more effec∣tual then is pouertie.

Sorowe.

I haue drunken poyson, death swymmeth nowe in my entrailes.

Reason.

When thou hast once perswaded thy selfe that thou must dye, whiche al men must needes determine that remember them selues to be mortal, what skylleth it whether thou dye by thirsting or drynkyng, or whether imbrued with thine owne blood or with wyne? In this kynde of death thou shalt haue great personages that haue been dryn∣kyng fellowes with thee of this confection, to wyt, Alexan∣der, Hannibal, Philippomenes, Mithridates, Claudius hym selfe, Theramenes, and Socrates.

Of the feare of death. The .cxvii. Dialogue.

FEARE.

I Feare to dye.

Reason.

Herein thou oughtest not to feare, but to muse: which musing of thyne, yf it began nowe first in thee, then hath it not growen vp with thee from thine infancie. But if it come vpon thee but by fittes, and is not continuall, then hast thou lyued vnwysely. For this most excellent and profi∣table aduice of the Poet Horace, ought most firmely to be engraf∣fed within the very marrowe of thy bones. Betweene hope and care, and betweene feare & anger, thynke euery day to be the last that thou shalt lyue: that thou mayst be such an one as he speaketh of in an other place. He shal leade his lyfe merily and vnder his owne go∣uernement, who is able to say euery day, I haue lyued: Let to morowe be fayre or foule whyle I am busie, I do not care. And this forsooth is that, whiche the Philosophers do so muche commend, to lyue the forepassed lyfe, whereof I haue spoken in an other place.

Feare.

I feare to dye.

Reason.

Thou shouldest haue feared also to be borne, & to lyue. The entrance into lyfe is the begynning of death, and lyfe it selfe is the passedge to death, or rather more truely a very death in deede. By lyuing eyther thou wentest to∣wardes death, or rather, accordyng to the iudgement of the wyse, thou beganst euery houre to dye. Why shouldest thou then be a∣feard of death, yf death haue eyther dayly accompanied thy lyfe, or of necessitie do folowe it? The first of these the learned only do vnderstand, the other the common people do perceyue: for what soeuer was borne, dyeth, and what soeuer dyeth, was borne.

Feare.

I am afearde to dye.

Reason.

Fearest thou to dye, that art a reasonable mortal creature, as the Philosophers do dif∣fine thee? But yf thou were veryly the first, I suppose thou woul∣dest not feare the second, for that these two natures beyng ioyned in one, do fully accomplysh the substance of man, to wyt, reason, and death. The one concerneth the soule, the other the body, but want of reason, hath brought in the feare of death.

Feare.

I feare death.

Reason.

Nothyng ought to be feared, which the ne∣cessitie

of nature importeth. Who so hateth or feareth the thinges that are naturall, must needes hate or feare nature it selfe. Vnlesse perhaps it be lawful to commend and embrace the one part there∣of, and to condemne and despise the other, then whiche there is nothyng more insolent, not only in men towardes GOD, but also in one man towardes another. And therefore, eyther thou wholy receyuest or reiectest thy freende, least yf thou reape that only whiche is sweete, thou seeme to be a partial iudge and louer of friendshyp.

Feare.

I abhorre death.

Reason.

If there be any euyl in death, the same is encreased by the feare of death. But yf there be no euyl in death, the feare thereof is a great euyl: and it is a great follie for a man to procure, or encrease his owne harme.

Feare.

I detest the very name of death.

Reason.

The infirmitie of mankynde, hath made the name of death infamous. But yf men had any courage of minde, they would no more feare death, then they woulde al other thynges that come by course of nature. And why shouldest thou more feare to die, then to be borne, to growe vp, to hunger, to thirst, to wake, to sleepe. Wherof this last is so lyke death, that some haue termed it the cousin, and some the image of death. And that thou mayest not cal this manner of speeche eyther a poetical colour, and a Philosophical quirke, Iesus Chryst the truth it selfe called the death of his freend, a sleepe: and art thou afeard to do that once, wherin thou takest plea∣sure euerie day? This inconstancie do the learned woonder at, and also reprooue.

Feare.

These thinges are common and vsuall among the Philosophers, and bring delite while they are heard: but when they leaue soundyng, feare returneth.

Reason.

Nay rather it remayneth: for if it were once gonne, it would not re∣turne agayne: and moreouer there is a certayne feare of death naturally ingraffed within the hartes of the common multitude. But it is a shame for a learned man to haue the feelyng but of the vulgare sort, whom it becommeth, as I sayd erewhyle, not to folowe the steppes of the greater part, but of a fewe. And concernyng that whiche thou speakest of Philosophers, I muche merueyle, that since you learne the preceptes of saylyng of saylers, and of husbandrie of husbandmen, and also of warfare of warriours, ye refuse to take aduice how to direct your

lyfe of the Philosophers? And seeing you aske counsel of Phi∣sitious for the cure of your bodyes, why do you not resort also to Philosophers for the saluing of your mindes, who if they be true Philosophers in deede, they are both Phisitions of your mindes, and the instructours of this lyfe? But yf they be coun∣terfeites, and puffed vp onely with the bare name of Philoso∣phie, they are not only not to be sought vnto for counsel, but to be auayded, then whom there is nothing more importunate, nothing more absurde: of whom this age is muche more ful then I coulde wyshe, and much more destitute of men, then I woulde it were. And therefore, seeing there is nothing els to be expected at the handes of them that are nowe present, but meare toyes and tri∣fles: yet yf there be any thyng alleaged by them, whiche eyther they haue founde out them selues, or borowed of the auncient wryters, that may aswage thy greefe, do not reiect it, nor say as do the vnlearned, this thou haddest out of the Philosophers. For then wyl I answere thee with Cicero: I thought thou wouldest haue sayde, of whores and bawdes. And to say the trueth, where shoulde a man fishe or hunt, but where fishes and wylde beastes are, in the waters and wooddes? Where is golde to be digged, or precious stones to be gathered, but where they growe? For they are to be founde in the veines of the earth, and vpon the shoares of the sea. Where are marchandizes to be had, but of mer∣chantes? Where pictures and images, but of paynters and ker∣uers? And last of al, where wylt thou expect Philosophical sawes, but at the Philosophers handes? Whiche, although they lye hyd vp by them in their treasuries and were first founde out by them, neuerthelesse the same are set open and expounded by o∣ther, and that paraduenture more playnely, or more pithily, or more breefely: or lastly disposed in some other order and methode promising lyke hope vnto al that heare them, but bringing suc∣cesse vnto fewe. For such is the force of order and good ioyning, as Horace very wel declareth in his Poeticalles, that one matter being diuersly told representeth a greater grace vnto y^e mind of the hearer, yea though it be a common thing that is told, such nouel∣tie may be added vnto that which is old, and such light vnto that whiche is euident, and suche beawtie vnto that whiche is fayre:

whiche I haue not nowe vttered, as lackyng some other place more conuenient therevnto, but because thou ministredst occasion at this present. For I woulde not haue thee, doo, as it is the ma∣ner of blinde and ignorant pryde, to disdayne vulgare and vsuall thynges whiche thou hast heard once, and neuer vnderstoode.

Feare.

I yeelde vnto thee, for I see that thou art very redie in these admonitions, although far from effect to me wardes: for I feare death yet neuerthelatter.

Reason.

There be certayne thynges in name and opinion of men greater then in effect: cer∣tayne afarre of, haue seemed terrible, whiche at hande haue been ridiculous. It were no wysedome to beleeue the vnexpert: there is not one of these defamers of death that can speake any thyng to the purpose, for being vnexpert, he can learne nothing at all, ney∣ther can he be instructed in any matter by one that is vnexpert al∣so. Aske a question of a dead man, & he wyl answere nothyng, and yet it is he that knoweth the trueth. They wyl babble most, that knowe death least, and prophecie most vaynely of it, wherein they haue least skyll. Whereby it commeth to passe, that by some, death is made the most manifest thyng, and of othersome, the most hydden secret, and this coniecturall case is diuersly tossed in suspition. But in doubtfull matters, it is good to cleaue to the best opinion, and to holde that, whiche shall make the minde rather merrie then dumpyshe.

Feare.

My soule fea∣reth death.

Reason.

If in respect of it selfe, that feare is vayne, for that the soule is immortall: But yf in respect of the bodye, it is a thanklesse pittie, to be careful of it enimie. But if it feare to be dissolued, it is to much in loue with it owne prison and bondes, whiche were but a verie foolyshe affection.

Feare.

I am troubled with the feare of death.

Reason.

All fooles are afearde to dye: and noe marueyle, for all their felicitie is in theyr bodye, whiche doubtlesse is by death extinguished. And therefore, not without cause, good men are sorie to heare of theyr ende, and heauie to beholde it. For this is the nature of man, that he can not lyue without desyre not to be vnhappie. It becommeth a learned man, who maketh no other accompt of his bodye, then of a vyle Drudge and fylthie Carkasse, whose dilligence, and loue, and hope, and studie, is wholy re∣posed

vpon his minde, to esteeme of the death of this bodye none otherwise, then as of his departure in the morning, out of some vnpleasant and noysome lodging.

Feare.

I can not choose but feare death.

Reason.

Thou mayest refuse to feare the de∣parture out of this lyfe, yf thou canst hope or wyshe for the en∣trance into an other: For hereof it is that the same feare ryseth. And although there be commonly diuers causes alleaged of the feare of this departure, neuerthelesse they vanishe away, when the hope of that other life is laide before the eyes.

Feare.

I dread death.

Reason.

The dread thereof is specially engendred by the lacke of meditating thereon, and the sudden necessitie of dy∣ing, whiche in a learned and wyse man is most shameful, but spe∣cially in an olde man, whose whole course and order of lyfe, yf he be learned and wyse indeede, ought to be a continuall meditation of death, Whiche if it seemed so vnto the auntient Philosophie, what may it nowe appeare vnto your new deuotion, which is the hygh Philosophie, and the true wisedome? Consider the maner of them that are commaunded vpon a sudden to goe some far iour∣ney, how sadde and careful they are to make vp their carriage, and how they complaine at their departure, and in a maner, repine that they had no longer warning before: so that as soone as their backes are turned, they thinke vpon necessaries, which they haue forgotten, and are discontented therewith. Now, there is no way longer, then to dye, none harder as they say, none more noysome for Theeues, none more obscure, none more suspicious, nor more vncertaine, which though it wanted al these, yet is it vnreturneable. By meanes whereof ye ought to be the more diligent, least haply ye forgette any thing, for that when ye are once departed from hence, ye can no longer doo as they that occupie other trades, or vndertake whatsoeuer other iourney, that is to say, commit suche thynges by their letters or messengers vnto their freendes to see vnto, as they them selues haue left forgotten. For ye are not able to sende any message backe, nor to stay in the place where ye were, nor to returne agayne. Ye must needes goe hence, it is not possible for you to returne: ye must needes goe thy∣ther, Souldiers, from whence it is not needefull that ye come backe agayne. Thus in Seneca sayde the Romane

Captayne to his men, and thus also sayth your Captayne to you. And therefore seeyng ye must needes depart and come no more, and that the necessitie of your iourney is very certayne, but the houre of death vncertayne, this is your onely remedie, to be al∣wayes readie in mind, to answere when ye are called, and to obey when ye are commaunded, and when all thinges are disposed in good order, at your Captaines fyrst commaundement, to goe foorth on you iourney couragiously, which ye must needes take in hand eyther willingly, or in spite of your beardes. This mee thin∣keth, should very muche abate your feare and payne of death, and make you not onely carelesse, but also desyrous to depart hence. Otherwyse, yf ye be vnprouided and take no regarde, the same may befall vnto you, whiche Cicero once truely in his Epistles prophecied vnto his freende Brutus: Ye shalbe suddenly oppressed, beleeue me freende Brutus, quoth he, vnlesse ye foresee and make prouision. And so truely it hapneth in deede, I say, vnto all that vse no forecast in that which is lyke to happen vnto them hereaf∣ter. And seeyng prouidence in all thinges is very necessarie, yet is it specially to be regarded in those thynges whiche can be done no more but once, wherein one errour sufficeth: for whereso∣euer the foote slyppeth, there is an ende.

Sorowe.

Now doo I verie muche abhorre death.

Reason.

Thynges deepely rooted, are not easily plucked vp. I knowe well, as I sayde, that the feare of death is engraffed within the mindes and senses of men, specially of the vulgar sort. As for the Philosophers, they account death neyther good nor bad, for that they recken it a thyng of it selfe neyther to be wyshed nor feared, but number it among thynges indifferent, whiche in respect of those that enioy them, some tyme they tearme good, and some tyme euyll. Which thyng I perceyue well to be lyked of one of your religion, who sayde, that the death of sinners was euyll, but of the Saintes and vertuous men most precious.

Sorowe.

I feare death, I hate death.

Reason.

From whence this feare and hatred of death commeth vnto men, verily I shoulde muche merueyle, were it not that I knewe the daintinesse of your mindes, where∣by ye nouryshe and encrease this and suche lyke degenerate

kindes of feare. Dooest thou not perceyue, howe that the greater part of men are afearde of the very name of death? Whiche, what is it other, then to abhorre your owne nature, and to hate that whiche ye are borne to be, then whiche, there is nothyng more vayne among men, nor more vnthankefull towardes GOD. Howe many are there whiche with greefe doo heare that name, whiche ought alwayes to beate vppon the inner eare? Without the whiche, there is no man that can thinke vppon him selfe: for what should he thinke him selfe to be other then a mortal creature? As often as a man turneth backe into the consideration of him selfe, doth not the name of death presently come into his minde? But ye abhor that, as though death would force in at the eare, and ye turne away your mindes, & striue to forget that, which wyl by and by compel the most vnwilling of you al, to haue it in remem∣brance. For loe, ye refuse to thinke vpon death, which not long af∣ter, ye must of necessitie both thinke vpon, & also suffer, the insult whereof, would a great deale the more easely be borne, yf it were thought vpon before: but now that both of them are brought to a narrowe poynt together, the one of them exasperateth y^e other. For euery thing that is vnthought on & sudden, shaketh the soule. It is as much follie to couet a thing in vaine, as to be desirous to auoyde that which thou canst not, & they are both of them the more foolish, by how much it had ben the more hurtful that thou haddest obtey∣ned that, which thou desirest. But there is nothing more hurtful amongst al the mischiefes of this worlde, then to forget GOD, a mans owne selfe, and death, which three thynges are so vnited and knytte together, that they may hardly be plucked asunder: but ye wyll seeme to be mindfull of your selues, and vnmind∣full both of your begynnyng and ending. Thou mayest marke them, that vpon some occasion set all thinges in order in theyr houses, howe there is scarce any that dare say, when I am dead, but yf I dye, as though that were in doubt, then the which there is nothyng more certayne. Neyther is this saying, If I dye, plainely pronounced, but rather yf any thyng happen vnto me otherwyse then well: whiche what I pray thee can it other be, then the selfe same thyng that hath hapned vnto all men, or shall happen both vnto them that are nowe alyue, or that shall be borne

hereafter? Vnto whom as there hath hapned sundrie kindes of lyfe, so shall there lykwyse befall diuers kindes of death, but one necessitie of dying. The same doest thou couet to escape, whiche neyther thy Fathers, neyther the Kinges of nations coulde euer escape, nor euer shal. Deceiue your selues as much as ye lyst, euen so shall it happen vnto you, as it doth vnto them that winke a∣gainst the stroke of their enimies weapon, as though they should not feele the danger which they see not: ye shal be stroken, ye shal dye, ye shall feele it: but whether it shal happen vnto you eyther blinde, or seeing, it lyeth in your handes. Therefore desire to dye well, which thing also, vnlesse ye doo lyue well, is in vaine. Wysh therefore, I say, and endeuour your selues, and doo what lyeth in you: commit that whiche remayneth vnto him, who vnto those whom he brought into this lyfe of his owne accorde, not being therevnto required, wyll not stretch foorth his handes when they depart out of it agayne, vnlesse he be called on and desyred. Wyshe not, not to dye: for it is not onely an impudent and an arrogant, but also an vnfruitfull and a vayne desyre. Accustome your selues, O ye mortall men, vnto the lawes of nature, and yeelde your neckes to that yoke which can not be auoyded. And yf ye loue your selues, loue that whiche ye are borne, not because ye woulde that ye had not been borne: for it is not meete that Nature shoulde obey you, but you her.

Feare.

I haue long assayed in vayne, to cast away the feare of death.

Reason.

I muse thou shouldest so long assay a matter, wherevnto thyne owne voluntarie thinking ought to bring thee. To thinke so much vpon so small a danger, is a great shame, if so be it may be called a danger, or not rather an ende of all dangers, to dye: a great shame, I say, it is, for a man so long to continue in the feare of so small and peeuishe a peryll, and so many yeeres to lyue in feare and suspense, for the euent of breathing one poore houre. But wouldest thou haue the most present remedie agaynst this euyll, and be delyuered from the perpetuall feare of death? Then lyue well: a vertuous lyfe despiseth death, and many tymes desireth it: and to be short, it is the ende of all terrible thynges. For la∣bour, payne, sorowe, aduersitie, infamie, imprisonment, exile, losse, warre, bondage, lacke of chyldren, pouertie, oldeage, sick∣nesse,

death, all these vnto men of valure, are nothyng els, then the schoole of Experience, and the feelde of Repentaunce, and the ex∣ercise place of Glorie.

Of Voluntarie murthering a mans owne selfe. The .Cxviij. Dialogue.

FEARE.

I AM determined to doo violence vnto my selfe.

Reason.

At one tyme to feare a thyng, and at another to wyshe for it, this is al the constancie that you haue. Erwhyle, womanishly thou fearedst death, and now vnmanly thou seekest the same: tel me, I pray thee, what sudden chaunce hath chainged thy mind?

Feare.

I am enforced to do violence vnto my selfe.

Reason.

If thou be enforced, then is it not voluntarie violence, although it be sayd, that a constrained wyll, is a wyll: yet truely it is no free wyl, neither that wyl which properly taketh the name à volendo, of willing. But I would fayne know, by whom thou art enforced. Whoso is vnwilling, may haue violent handes layde vpon hym, but thou canst doo thy selfe no violence, vnlesse thou were willing thereunto.

Feare.

There are great causes that enforce me to be willing to die.

Reason.

They be great in deede, I coufesse, yf they enforce thee, but they coulde not enforce thee, yf thou were a man. But there is nothyng so weake, that it can not ouer∣throwe the delicacie of your mindes: and hearken now whether I can not directly gheasse these causes: anger, disdaine, impati∣encie, a certayne kynde of furie agaynst a mans owne selfe, and the forgetfulnesse of his owne estate. For yf thou dyddest remem∣ber that thou were a man, thou wouldest also knowe that thou oughtest to take all worldly chaunces in good part, and not for the hatred of one small euyll, or rather no euyll at all, to be wil∣lyng to fal into the greatest euyll of all.

Feare.

By reason of extreame miserie, I am constrayned, to lay violent handes vpon my selfe.

Reason.

It is not extreame miserie, neither are they the greatest euylles that oppresse thee, but this is the most ex∣treame of al other which now enrageth thee, to wit, desperation: agaynst which onely, when as all other euylles haue their pecu∣liar

remedies, there is no medicine that can preuayle. And which be these that thou callest ex••reame euylles, but onely labour per∣haps, and trouble, and pouer••ie? For these are they, whereof the Poet Virgil intreateth, saying: These without cause procured their owne death, and hating this lyght, powred out their owne soules. Of whose too late repentance, he addeth immediatly: Howe glad woulde they now be, returnyng into this worlde agayne, to abyde po∣uertie, and suffer all troubles and aduersitie? Are these so great euyls, whereof the fyrst all good and vertuous men endured with a valiant and indifferent minde, and some more ouer dyd wylling∣ly choose it, and thereby became glorious and riche in the euerla∣styng riches? That the worlde is meete for men, we reade in Sa∣lust, and that man was made for that intent, we finde it written in the holy and afflicted good old man. But you, beyng of al crea∣tures the most vnquiet, yf thinges fal not out according to your co∣uetous desyre, or letcherous lust, ye thynke that ye haue iust cause to kyll your selues? So delicate and hastie headlong is your lasci∣uiousnesse, that vpon the least cause that may be, ye are not onely angrie with Fortune, but also with your selues; & farther ••icking against GOD hymselfe, ye scoure your blasphemous•• ••••ithes agaynst him, as though euery thing wherein your Lord and God fulfylleth not your minde, were an haynous iniurie agaynst you.

Feare.

I am so oppressed, with great euylles, that to choose A woulde dye.

Reason.

For the loathsomnesse of thy lyfe, per∣haps, which is a familiar fault among all fooles For vnto the wyse, euery kynde of lyfe is pleasant: the happie lyfe they accept willingly, the miserable lyfe they indure patiently, and although in the thinges themselues they take final comfor••, yet are they de∣lyghted in the exercise of patience: for there is nothing more ac∣ceptable, nor more s••••e••e, then veritie. The same is that which asswageth greefes) amendeth what is anusse, mo••••fieth that whiche is harde, mit••igateth th••ir whiche is sharpe, si••••otheth that whiche is rough, and l••uellech that whiche is vne••••en. In consyderation hereof complainte or 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and hastie head∣longnesse hath an ende, and to be breefe, there is nothing more glorious nor quiet, then a wyse mans lyfe. As for these teares, and greefes of the minde, these cloudes and troublesome

stormes whiche driue the barke of this lyfe vpon the rockes, they spryng from follie onely.

Feare.

Impaciencie of sicknes maketh me desirous to dye.

Reason.

Thy desyre is fond and proude. Let the Lorde alone, to dispose of thy bodye, accordyng to his owne determination and good pleasure. Wylt thou looke to haue more aucthoritie ouer thine owne buyldyng, whereof thou hast made neyther Timber nor Stone, and wherein there is no∣thing thine, but only y^e buylding, and wylt thou not geue lykewyse sembleable libertie vnto the Lorde and maker of all the worlde, who in the same hath not onely created the spirite, the fleshe, the blood, and the bones, but also heauen, the earth, the seas, and all thynges that are therein, of nothyng? Say not within thy selfe, My bodye is greeuously tormented with payne. For thou hast receyued no dominion euer thy bodye, but onely a vse thereof for a certayne short tyme. Thynkest thou thy selfe to be Lorde and Maister ouer this thyne house of Clay? Verily, thou art but a stranger, he that made all, is Lorde of all.

Sorowe.

With ex∣ceeding payne I am constrayned to be desyrous to die.

Reason.

Perhaps this payne is layde vpon thee for thine experience, whiche yf it be troublesome and greeuous vnto thee, then may it be profitable: but yf intollerable, then can it not long continue. Attende the commaimdement of the Lorde that detayneth thee, and answeare when thou art called, and not before. Thy daye is appoynted, whiche possibly thou canst not preuent, nor yet prolong. Howheit, many haue preuented it in deede, and goyng about to auoyde a smal & short greefe haue cast them selues head∣long intoirreuocable & euerlasting tormentes. This opinion hath had great defenders. Fyrst Anneus Seneca, who so constantly and often falleth into the mentionyng thereof, insomuche that it seemeth vnto me that he feared, least it shoulde not ap∣peare to be his ••••b••e, and maketh me sometyme to won∣der, bowe so cruell a•• opinion coulde enter into the hart of so woorthie a man. And to ••et that passe, whiche it were too long to recite, in a certayne Epistle vnto Lucilius: If, sayth he, the bodye be vnfytte for the ordinarie and conuenient acti∣ons▪ why shoulde not a man set the greened soule at libertie? And immedialy after a fewe woordes betweene: I wyl leape, quoth he,

out of this rotten and ruinous buyldyng. But O Seneca, thou sayest not wel, and with one euyl saying hast disgraced a great many good sayinges. For thou oughtest to abyde, and not to de∣part: let thy buyldyng fal downe, that thou be driuen out of doores before thou depart.

Sorowe.

I cannot suffer the thynges that are lyke to happen vnto me, I had rather dye.

Reason.

Per∣haps for some death whiche shalbe inflicted vpon thee by an eni∣mie, whiche beyng valiantly vndertaken can not be shameful, but voluntarily procured by thine owne hand, cannot but be re∣prochful and ignominious, for that it is contrarie to the commaun∣dement of the most hygh Lorde, agaynst whiche nothyng can be wel done.

Sorowe.

I had rather dye, then to see the thynges that are lyke to happen shortly.

Reason.

It is not the part of a man, not to be able with open eyes to behold both faces of for∣tune: it is the part of a woman, to turne away the eyes in feare. What is the thyng that troubleth thee so muche, that nothyng can helpe thee but death only? Is it thine owne, or thy freendes, or perhaps the aduersitie of thine afflicted countrye? As for the first two, they are but gentle: for fortune is not so strong, but ver∣tue is able to withstand it the thirde is godly, but the loue thereof is fainte and slouthful. For the bondage and captiuitie of a mans countrey, and the gouernement thereof in manner of a Tiran∣nie, is rather to be repelled by death, then auoyded by steppyng a side. For the first is the part of a man, but this tastest of wo∣manyshe imbecillitie. Whiche thyng notwithstandyng the same Seneca doth woonderfully extol in the death of Cato in that same his peculiar opinion, whereof I spake erewhyle. But Cicero thinkyng it sufficient to excuse him only, abstaineth from com∣mending him. For he sayth, that vnto Cato that was a man of such wonderful grauitie, and perpetual constancie of nature, it was better to dye then to looke the Tyrant in the face: whom Brutus notwithstandyng behelde, and thought it better to make hym away by kyllyng hym, then by kyllyng hym selfe. Whiche how wel or ill it was done, I do not now dispute. But so in deede he did. As for Cicero, whyle he excuseth Cato, he forget∣teth his owne more commendable opinion, whiche long before he had set downe in his sixth booke De republica, of a common∣wealth,

whiche is after this manner folowyng: whiles that he bringeth in Publius Scipio Affricanus the younger drea∣ming, howe that he talked in heauen with his father and graund∣father, and hearyng them speake of the immortalitie of the soule, and the felicitie of the other lyfe, made hym desirous to dye, and brought in his father by and by reprouing the same his fonde and vnprofitable desyre, in these woordes. It may not be so, quoth he: for vnlesse God, whose churche al this is which thou beholdest, doo loose thee out of these bondes of thy bodye, thou canst haue none entrance hyther. For men were created for this cause, that they shoulde beholde the globe whiche thou seest in the middest of this temple, whiche is called the earth. Where∣fore, good sonne Publius, both thou, and also al vertuous men, ought to keepe your selues within the custodie of this your bodye, and not to depart out of the lyfe of man contrarie vnto his com∣maundement, by whom that lyfe was geuen vnto you, least happely ye seeme to forsake the vocation whereunto God hath called you. Doo not these woordes of Cicero sufficiently reprooue Cato. that is excused? And truely, yf thou were appoynted by some earthly Prynce or Captayne to keepe a place by defence of armes, thou wouldest not dare to depart from thy charge without his lycence, whiche yf thou shouldest doo, doubtlesse he woulde take it in ill part. Howe then woulde the heauen∣ly Emperour take it, thynkest thou, vnto whom so muche the more obedience ought to be geuen, by howe muche God is greater then man? There was of late dayes one Stephanus Columnensis, a gentleman of auncient vertue, who yf lie had lyued had not onely been famous in this age, but also in remem∣brance of al posteritie. The same Stephanus beyng besieged by a mightie enimie of his, vnto whom he was in power far vne∣qual, committed the defence of one turret, wherein there seemed to be most danger, vnto one of his captaynes, of whose trust he was assured. This turret being vndermined and secretly shaken by the enimies, so that it was in danger of fallyng, when as the residue of the garison perceyuing so much forsooke it, and perswaded hym also to come downe and prouide for his safety, since it was boote∣lesse to tarrie, but vnto him selfe very dangerous or rather present

death: I wyl not come downe, (sayde he) vnlesse he cal me away who set me here. Which being reported vnto Stephanus, who al∣so was very careful for the gentleman, & came running in bast to cal hym away, the turret beyng shaken at the very foundation, fel downe immediatly with great noyse. Thus that trustie defen∣dant was miserably slayne, whom his lord and maister beyng scarcely able to finde out among the rubbishe and ruynes of the turret, buryed hym with great sorowe and lamentation, and whyle he lyued had a dutiful care ouer hym, and in his com∣mon speeche alwayes aduaunced his fayth with worthy commen∣dation. What I meane by these wordes, I thinke thou knowest. Suche a keeper oughtest thou to be of thy body, whiche is com∣mitted vnto thy keepyng by God, as he was of his turret, which was commended to his charge by his lorde and maister. Not∣withstandyng, I am not ignorant, howe that the death of Cato was muche commended by many of that age wherein he lyued, and very glorious in the common opinion of men. And that say∣ing of Iulius Caesar is wel knowen, who beyng conquerour and making hast vnto Vtica, where Cato had slayne hym selfe, and hearyng report of his death: Cato, quoth he, enuyed my glo∣ry, and I enuie his death. Doubtlesse it seemed some excellent thyng, whiche so great and glorious a personage enuied at.

Sorow.

Then what shoulde let me to folow the death of a wyse man that was enuied at by so great a person, and excu∣sed, and commended of the wyse, and to eschewe the innumera∣ble distresses of lyfe by a voluntarie death? Truely I had rather dye.

Reason.

Beware that thou be not caryed away with the vayne hope of hynges. For there be some infe∣riour in eloquence but superiour in sense, whiche neyther com∣mend nor excuse this death of Cato, but sharpely repre∣hende it. Among whom Sainct Augustine, a most sharpe searcher after the truth, disputeth, that this was not the cause of the hastenyng of his owne death because he woulde not lyne vnder the empire of Caesar, togeather with his sonne: foras∣muche as he hym selfe was the cause that his sonne fledde to Caesar, and in hope of safetie submitted hymselfe to his mer∣cy, wherein he was not deceyued. Whiche yf he had thought to

haue been a shameful thyng, would he not haue delyuered his sonne from it as wel as hym selfe, eyther by poyson, or by sword, or by some other kynde of death whatsoeuer? Seeing that Man∣lius Torquatus is commended for killyng his owne sonne, for that he had geuen battel to his enimies and vanquished them, but contrarie to his fathers commaundement. Neyther can it be sayde, that it is a more shameful thing to be conquerour ouer a proude enimie, then to be subiect to an arrogant conquerour. Why then dyd he thinke Caesar woorthy to graunt lyfe to his sonne, who thought hym vnworthie and enuied at hym that he should graunt lyfe vnto hymselfe? And to conclude, he findeth that only enuie was the cause of his death, whiche Caesar hym selfe did not dissemble, as we sayde erewhyle. For what coulde he other feare, or why could he not abyde hym to be his prince, by whom not long before he was banyshed the senate, and committed to pryson? So that he that slue not hym selfe in so great and pre∣sent an iniurie, why shoulde he nowe slaye hym selfe for a vayne feare, or false opinion of pryde, or crueltie? What ter∣ror was there expressed in Caesars face, that he shoulde seeke to auoyde the same by death, who not only of all men, but of al Tirantes and Prynces was the most gently and mercifull? For although Cato had neuer seene any more myghtie, yet truely in that age had he seene many more cruel, but truely neuer sawe he any more merciful. And therefore ryghtly sayeth an∣other excellent wryter, famous both for credite and eloquence: It seemeth vnto me, sayth he, that Cato sought an occasion to dye, not so muche to escape Caesars handes, as to folowe the de∣crees of the Stoykes whom he immitated, and by some notable deede to leaue his name famous vnto posterytie. What harme woulde haue happened vnto him if he had lyued, I do not perceyue, For suche was the clemencie of Caius Caesar, that in the greatest heate of the ciuile warres, he would seeme to do nothing els but to de∣serue wel of the common wealth, prouiding alwayes for the safetie of Cicero, and Cato. Loe, behold another cause of his death beside enuie, to wit, a vayne follie, both which were farre vnwoorthy of the person of Cato, and yet neyther of them sufficient to preuent

a mans owne death.

Sorowe.

I had rather dye, then lyue thus.

Reason.

Howe knowest thou, whether this lyfe whiche seemeth greeuous vnto thee, be desired of many, or enuied of the most? But your impatiencye maketh all thynges more greeuous.

Sorow.

I desire to dye.

Reason.

As from the feareful to force the feare of death, so to wreast from the desperate the hatred of lyfe, is a hard matter. Neuerthelesse this is the effect of our remedie, to beare this lyfe with indifferencie, and to looke for death valiantly.

Of Death. The .cxix. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Dye.

Reason.

Now thou art come to the last cast: nowe canst thou neyther feare death nor wyshe for it, of both whiche thou hast alredie wearied me in many discourses next before written. Hereafter thou shalt neyther be in sorowe nor in paine, neyther be subiect to the defaultes of the body, nor minde: neyther shalt thou be wearied with the tediousnesse of any thing, nor with sickenesse, nor with olde age, nor with deceites of men, nor with the varietie of fortune, al whiche yf they be euyl, then is the ende of euyl, good. Not long since thou complaynedst of al these, and nowe thou findest fault with the ende of them: beware that thou seeme not iniurious, for beyng sory for the begynning of a thing, and the endyng of the same.

Sorowe.

I dye.

Reason.

Thou shalt walke the way of thy fathers, or rather the broade and worne way of thy predicessors: haddest thou rather that there shoulde happen vnto thee some peculiar accident, I wote not what? Goe forward on thy way, thou needest not be a frayde of goyng amisse, thou hast so many leaders and companions of thy iourney.

Sorowe.

Alas I dye.

Reason.

If there be any that hath cause to weepe when he dyeth, he ought to be ashamed to haue laughed when he lyued, knowyng that he had cause at hand and alwayes hanging ouer his head ful soone to make hym weepe, whose laughter, doubtlesse, was not farre disioyned from weeping.

Sorowe.

I dye.

Reason.

He is not to be suffred,

that be waileth the estate of his owne kynde. Thou shouldest not dye vnlesse thou were mortal. But if thou be sorie because thou art mortal, thou hast no cause to complayne, when thou surcea∣sest to be that which thou wast agaynst thy wyl. Thou shouldest haue lamented at the begynnyng when thou beganst to be that whiche thou wouldest not: but now thou oughtest to reioyce, for that thou begynnest to be immortal.

Sorowe.

I dye.

Reason.

Al these that lately stoode about thy bed, and moreouer al that euer thou hast seene, or heard or read of, and as many as euer thou wast able to knowe since thou wast borne, as many as euer heretofore haue seene this lyght, or shal hereafter be borne in al the worlde, and to the worldes ende, either haue or shal passe through this iorney. Beholde in thy minde as wel as thou canst, the long troupes of them that are gone before, or of those that shal folowe hereafter, and also the number not small of thy com∣panions and coequales in yeeres, who dye with thee euen at this presente: and then I thinke thou wylt be ashamed to be∣wayle a common case with thy pryuate complayntes, when as among so many thou shalt not finde one whom thou may∣est enuie at.

Sorowe.

I dye.

Reason.

This is to be impassible, and to goe about to shake of the yoake both of for∣tune, and death: a double great good, whiche no prosperitie can geue vnto any lyuing creature. Thinke with thy selfe, howe many and howe great cares, howe many paynefull tra∣ueyles there were remayning yet vnto thee yf thou lyuedst I say not an infinite lyfe, but the space of a thousand yeeres, when as there is alotted vnto thee a lyfe but onely of one dayes space: wherein yf thou make an indifferent estimation, thou shalt perceyue the toyles and wearisomenesse of this short, transitorie, and vncertayne lyfe, and also thine owne greefes and vexations whiche thou hast susteyned.

Sorow.

I dye.

Reason.

In suche forte ye bewayle death, as though lyfe were some great matter, whiche yf it were, then were the flyes, and emmotes, and spyders, partakers of the same. If lyfe were alwayes a commoditie, then were death euer∣more a discommoditie, whiche sometyme is founde to be a great benefite when as it delyuereth the soule from intolle∣rable

euyles, or dischargeth or els preserueth the soule from sinne that is to come, whiche is the greatest euyl of all. But as vertue is onely a great thyng among you, so yf this lyfe be con∣sidered by it selfe as it is, it is the stoare house of innumerable miseries: for the shuttyng vp whereof whoso is sorowfull, the same taketh it not well that euyles doo surcease, and ha∣teth quyetnesse: and he that coueteth the same, it must needes be that he couet the ende of a payneful and troublesome lyfe. Then yf there be noneother ende of toyles and euyles, why doest thou weepe for it? That day is nowe at hande, which yf it were prolongued, thou wouldest wyshe for it, and perhaps suche is the worlde, the power of fortune so great and her chaunces so variable, that thou hast oftentymes alredie wish∣ed for it.

Sorowe.

I dye.

Reason.

Nay rather thou departest out of an earthly and transitorie house, vnto the heauenly and euerlastyng habitation, and thy foote beyng vpon the very thresholde thou art sorowfully and vnwyllyng∣ly plucked away, and carefully thou lookest behynde thee, I wot not wherefore, whether forgettyng thy fylthynesse which thou leauest behynde thee, or not beleeuyng the great good vn∣to whiche thou art goyng. And truely, yf as I sayde before, whiche notable men haue also auerred, this whiche you cal lyfe be death, then it foloweth that the ende thereof whiche is death, be lyfe.

Sorow.

I dye.

Reason.

Thy kyng setteth thee at libertie, nowe the bandes and fetters are broken, whiche it pleased your louyng father to make mortal and transitorie. Whiche I knowing to be specially apper∣teyning vnto his mercie, as Plotinus holdeth opinion, and it is confirmed by your wryters, I see not whereof thou hast cause to complayne.

Sorowe.

I dye.

Reason.

Thy kyng calleth thee: an happie messenger. But thus it is, it commeth vnlooked for, and vnluckely, that happeneth vnto men agaynst their wylles. Consent thereunto, and then shalt thou begyn to perceyue howe wel thou art dealt withall. Then shalt thou, reputyng with thy selfe thy departure out of this prison, & the other euyles of this lyfe which thou fearest, & prophe∣cying

of the commodities whiche death bringeth, after the man∣ner of Socrates swan that coulde diuine of heauenly thynges to come, and was therefore consecrated to Apollo, die singing, though not with thy voyce, yet in thy minde. And vnlesse, whiche God forbid, y^e heauie weight of thy sinnes not clensed nor forgiuen do ouermuch presse thee downe, do thou that in thy minde, which it is read that the emperour Vespasian did in bodie, rise vp when thou art a dying, and thinke it vnmeete to dye lying, neither in this respect ascribe thou lesse vnto thee then he did to himselfe, al∣though thou be not a prince as he was. For death respecteth no auctorytie, it knoweth not princes from other men, and is a no∣table meane to make al estates of one calling after this life. There was nothing that Vespasian might doo, but it is lawful for thee to do the lyke, yea and I trust thou hast somewhat more of the grace of God then he had if thou do not refuse it: not for that thou art better then he, but because thou art more happie in respect of y^e free goodwyl & loue of God, who hath graunted to the litle ones, and reuealed to the vnlearned, those thynges whiche he denied to the mightie, and hyd from the wyse. Adde moreouer, that it is more profitable and easie for thee to aryse. For his endeuour re∣quyred bodily strength, which sicknesse weakeneth and death quite extinguisheth: but thou hast neede of noneother then the strength of the minde, which oftentymes encreaseth the neerer that death is at hand.

Sorow.

I dye.

Reason.

Why doest thou tremble in safetie, and stumble in the playne, and stay vpon the side of a sheluing downefall? I wyl not here bryng into thy remembrance what the Philosophers do dispute in this poynt. For there be many thynges which the troublesomnesse of hym that lyeth a dying, and the shortnesse of the tyme wyl not suffer to be done, and therefore it ought deepely to be engraffed and rooted in thy mynde whatsoeuer the auncient Philosophers haue disputed concernyng this matter. For as they hold opini∣on, rare prosperitie specially towardes a mans ende, is able to make al remedies agaynst aduersitie and hard fortune, voyde & to no purpose: but as touchyng those thynges whiche are alleaged agaynst death, they be alwayes profitable and necessarie, whiche no casual but the natural and inuincible necessitie of dying maketh

to stande in ful force and effect. Among diuers other, truely Cice∣ro gathereth together many sounde reasons and perswasions, in the fyrst dayes disputation of his Tusculan questions, whereof I made mention a litle before: whiche vnlesse thou hast alreadie learned in times past, I haue no leasure now to teach thee, where∣in he concludeth, that whether he that dieth, seeme to be in pros∣peritie or aduersitie: neuerthelesse, forasmuche as generally the whole state of mankynde is equally subiect to the dartes and in∣sultes of Fortune, it is to be supposed, that by death he is not de∣lyuered from good thynges, whiche doubtlesse he shall fynde to be true, whosoeuer shall geue hym selfe to the deepe considerati∣on of worldly affayres. Wherefore, by death he findeth him selfe aduauntaged and not hyndered, and thynking continually there∣on, when it commeth he maketh account thereof, as of the mes∣senger and seruant of his delyuerer: and when he is once past it, and looketh backe vpon it, he beholdeth, as it were out of a Win∣dowe, how he hath escaped the deceites of the worlde, and the prison of this fleshe. The very same sense doth Cicero followe in his disputation, that whether the soule dye with the body, or be translated to some other habitation, that either there is no euyll at al, or very much good in death. Sharply truely among his owne Countreifolke at that time, but among your Philosophers now adayes, yea and your common people, a thing nothing doubted of: and truly I beleeue, neither vnperswaded vnto Cicero himselfe, of whom we haue so much spoken: which opinion most frankly he hath declared in many and sundry places, although he applied him selfe vnto the want of fayth in him, with whom he communed, or the distrustinesse of the time in which he liued. But in few wordes, thus perswade thy selfe, that thy soule is immortal, which not only the whole consent of your na••ion, but also the most excellent of al the Philosophers do, & haue defended. Repose no trust in the death of the soule, whose nature is such, that it cannot die, and thinke not that there remaineth no euyl after death, because there shalbe no soule to suffer it. But forasmuch as the creatour of the soule is gen∣tle, and louing, and merciful, he wyl not despise the woorke of his owne handes, but wyl be neere vnto them that cal vpon him faith∣fully. Vnto hym let your prayers, vnto hym let your vowes be

directed: let the vttermost of your hope depend vpō him, & let your last gaspe ende, in callyng vpon his name. Depart quickly, feare nothing, dame Nature that is the most louing mother of al other mothers, hath made no horrible thing, it is the errour of men, and not the nature of the thing, that ought to be prouided for, that cau∣seth death to seeme dreadful. If thou harbour any great attempt in thine hart, or go about any excellent & high matter, despise the base and low speeches & deedes of the raskal multitude, but haue them in admiration, whom to imitate is the perfect path vnto true glo∣rie. Among our Countreymen truly, of such as haue dyed merely and happily, there are innumerable examples. But yf we searche rather after such as are of more antiquitie, we shal finde many that haue not onely taken their death valiantly, but also hastened it: which deede in Marcus Cato, Marcus Cicero blameth, & Seneca commendeth, as we sayd erewhile. As for you, ye lyke wel of nei∣ther, but woorst of the seconde, for that it is more tollerable to ex∣cuse an errour, then to commende it. But I reiecte them both, be∣cause, as for to answere when a man is called, & to obey with reue∣rence, is prayse woorthie: euen so, without licence of the General, to depart from the watch & keeping of the body, is to be counted hygh treason, & woorthie to be punished, eyther with cruel banish∣ment, or with extreame torment. Of purpose I repeate some thynges againe and agayne, to the ende they may take the deeper roote: for all these matters, as I suppose, are sufficiently discour∣sed in our communication going immediatly before.

Sorowe.

I dye.

Reason.

Rather thou payest tribute of thy fleshe, and yeeldest thy duetie vnto Nature, and anon thou shalt be a free man: and therefore, doo that willingly, which of force thou art constray∣ned to doo, and as one that is a verie good exhorter vnto death sayth: Haue a desire to doo that, which thou must needes doo. There is no counsayle more profitable, yea, there is none other counsayle at all in tyme of necessitie: Whatsoeuer a man doeth wyllyngly, is made the more easie and tollerable, and yf a wyll be adioyned, it surceasseth longer to be a necessitie.

Sorowe.

Loe, I dye.

Reason.

Loe, the Lorde tarrieth for thee. Make hast vnto hym, doo neyther stumble nor stay, lay away all dread & suspition, thou art not more deere to thy selfe, then thou art to him: and who wyl

distrust when he is called by his freende and louer? Perhappes hereafter thou wylt merueyle, why thou fearest that, whiche ra∣ther thou oughtest to haue wyshed for. Now when thou art at libertie, thou shalt knowe many thynges, which when thou wast in prison, thou couldest learne by no studie. Insomuche, that vnto them that are desirous to knowe the secretes and misteries of thynges whereunto your eyesyght can not pearce, by meanes of the mortall vayle wherewith you are compassed round about (for such verily is the naturall desyre of man, but woorking most fer∣uently in the studious and learned sort) there is nothing, as I iudge, better then death, nor that bryngeth a man more compen∣diously vnto his wyshed purpose.

Sorowe.

I dye.

Reason.

Nay rather thou sleepest, and beyng wearie of this lyfe, as I sup∣pose, thou takest now thy rest.

Sorow.

I dye.

Reason.

Depart into euerlasting rest, for now thou beginnest to lyue. A good death is the beginning of lyfe.

Of Death before a mans tyme. The .Cxx. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

BUT what sayest thou vnto it, that I dye before my tyme?

Reason.

None dyeth before his tyme: but all haue not one tyme limitted them alyke, but rather as the noble Poet wri∣teth: Eche mans day stands prefixt: vnto which when he is come, then hath he attayned to the ende. And because men can nei∣ther returne agayne, nor stay where they are, they must needes passe away.

Sorow.

I dye before my time.

Reason.

That myght be true, yf thou dyddest owe a death agaynst a certayne day, but the good and pure detter oweth it euery day: and there∣fore let hym looke euery day for his creditours callyng vpon hym, and alwayes haue that in a redinesse which he oweth. For he is continually in det as long as he hath a mortal bodye, he neede not to borowe, nor to take vpon vsurie, he hath that at home whiche he must pay. Yea whyther so euer he goeth, he carrieth with hym, and hath that as it were in his hande, wherwith to discharge hym selfe, whiche when he hath payde, he is then no longer indetted to Nature, nor to any of the hea∣uenly bodyes, as the Poet Virgil sayeth. Therefore leaue of this complaynte: that can not be required before the

day, which is due euery day: but rather geue thankes, for that for the payment of this det thou needest neyther intreating, nor yet to haue great riches of thine owne, nor pawne, nor vsurie, which were the last woordes that euer that valiant vnknowen Spartane is reported to haue spoken, most woorthie in deede to haue been knowen, euen at that time when he was led to execution, wherevn∣to he went without feare, and couragiously, by the losse of his lyfe to satisfie Lycurgus lawes.

Sorowe.

I dye before my tyme.

Reason.

I vnderstand not what it is to dye before your time, vn∣lesse it be ment, as the common speech is, before it be lyght, or be∣fore the day breake, which is a time most fit for the exercises of the minde & soule, which now thou art geuing ouer. But in any other signification, who is he that dyeth before his time, when as in deede that is euery mans day wherein he dyeth, and none other?

Sorowe.

I dye before my tyme.

Reason.

Neyther before thy tyme, nor after thy tyme, but euen in thy very tyme shalt thou dye: vnlesse thou take that for thy tyme which thou thy selfe, not Nature nor Fortune, hath prescribed. But in trueth, as thou canst not dye before thy tyme, so canst thou not lyue after it.

Sorowe.

I dye before my tyme.

Reason.

Who is he, vnlesse he were madde, that wyll complayne that he is loosed from his fetters, and discharged out of prison, before his tyme? Truely he had more cause to reioyce, in mine opinion, yf this hapned sooner then his expectation, but certaynely it hapneth not, nor it can not happen so, for euery thyng hath it owne tyme. This was the ap∣poynted tyme of thyne ende, there dyd he constitute thy boundes, who brought thee into the race of this lyfe: If thou complayne of this ende, thou mayest lykewyse as well complayne of any o∣ther.

Sorowe.

I dye soone.

Reason.

Thou wast soone borne: he dyeth not soone, that hath lyued tyll he is olde. And yf thou haddest not lyued vntyll thou wast olde, then re∣mayned there another part of complaint. Howbeit, yf olde age be the last portion of a mans lyfe, he must needes be fyrst olde whosoeuer dyeth. But when I speake of olde age, I meane it as the common people vsually take it, for an hea∣pyng vp of many yeeres together, whiche, not as other ages, hath no ende but death onely. Concernyng the beginnyng

whereof there is great varietie of opinions, but in consideration of the strength of those that growe olde, and in respect of their bodyly health, and the abilitie of their mindes, easie enough to be reconciled. To be short, this is the conclusion of all, that eyther thou surceasse to fynde fault with the hastinesse of death, or to mislyke the troubles of a long lyfe, whiche come by the deferryng of death. But you beyng at contention with∣in your selues, are neyther willing to dye, nor to waxe olde, when as ye must needes doo both of them, or at the leastwyse one of them.

Sorowe.

I myght haue lyued longer.

Reason.

Nay truely, thou couldest not: for yf thou myghtest, verily thou haddest lyued longer: but thou wouldest say, I woulde fayne, or I hoped to haue lyued longer: for the mindes of mortall men are so desirous of lyfe, and so readie to hope, that in eyther I easily agree with thee. But if thou wylt say, I shoulde or ought to haue lyued longer, for that perhappes thou seest some that haue lyued longer in deede, as though of duetie thou mygh∣test claime longer continuance also, I can not yeelde vnto thee. For some dye late, and many moe soone, but none at all that dye neuer: betweene these there is no meane appoynted, but all men are generally subiect vnto one lawe, and all owe obey∣saunce to the soueraingtie of death, albeit some are taken away by one meanes, and some by another, and that at diuerse tymes and ages: thus of one thyng, there are manyfolde meanes, and sundrie tymes. And therefore, let euery one with indifferencie attende his owne kinde of death and dying day, and not through the greedinesse or lothsomnesse of lyfe, doo as the vnskylfull and ingratefull sort are woont, complayne and be disquieted about the lawes of Nature.

Sorowe.

I haue lyued but a smal time.

Reason.

There was neuer any lyued so long, that thought not that he lyued but a small tyme, and truely it is but a short tyme in deede that men lyue heere. And therefore, yf ye be desirous to lyue long, seeke after that lyfe, wherein ye may lyue for euer, which although it be not heere, yet is it purchased heere.

Sorowe.

I haue lyued but a short tyme.

Reason.

Admit thou haddest ly∣ued longer, haddest thou then lyued any more then a short tyme? The tearmes of this lyfe are vnequall and vncertaine, but this

one thyng is common to them all, that they be al short. Put case a man haue lyued eyghtie yeeres, what hath he more, I pray thee, then he that hath liued but eyght yeeres? Examme thy selfe dili∣gently, and looke into thine owne estate, and let not the madnesse of the common multitude deceiue thee: what more, I say hath he that hath lyued longer, vnlesse perhappes ye account cares, and troubles, & paynes, and sorowes, & weerisomnesse for a vantage? Or what more should he haue, yf he lyued eyght hundred yeeres? There is somewhat more in deede, I confesse, in hope and expec∣tation: but when both tymes are expited, beleeue mee, thou shalt fynde nothyng, whereby thou mightest make account that thou hast lyued more happily.

Sorowe.

I dye, when as I thought to haue done good.

Reason.

What, dydst thou thinke to haue done somethyng, which thou hast not done? So perhappes thou wouldest alwayes haue thought, haddest thou liued neuer so long. There be some that alwayes thinke to doo well, but they neuer begin. But yf thou haue begun once to doo well, doubt not to goe forward, although death preuent thy woorke before it be brought to a wished ende: which although peraduenture in the blinde iudgement of men, it may seeme to be some preiudice vnto thee, neuerthelesse it is to be despised, for that in the syght of the vnfal∣lible surueyer of all thynges thou loosest nothyng, but thy reward shalbe full and whole, as well of thy deedes, as of thy thoughtes.

Sorowe.

In the middes of all my preparation, I dye.

Reason.

This fault is not in death, but in them that dye, who then begyn to weaue the most short web of their lyfe, when it is a cutting of: which vnlesse it were so, men should not so often be preuented by death, not hauing fyrst accomplished the dueties of lyfe, but ra∣ther when they had fulfylled and accomplished them, woulde then begin to liue, than which truely there were no lyfe more sweete. Which sweetenesse notwithstanding, not so much the shortnesse of lyfe, as the slouthfulnesse of them that lyue, taketh away from men: who therefore count no lyfe long, because how long soeuer the tyme be, they neuer lyue, but are euermore about to lyue. And when they be once come to be olde men, wauering among newe deuices how to lyue, with a swift ende they preuent their slow be∣ginning.

Sorowe.

I dye, euen whyle I am preparing great

matters.

Reason.

This hapned vnto many greatmen, and al∣most to all. Men are deceyued in many thinges, specially in death, which there is none but knoweth that it wyll come, but they hope of the deferring of it, and imagine that to be farre of, which, God knoweth, is hard by them: which both the shortnesse of lyfe, and swyftnesse of tyme, and the power of fortune, and the varietie of humane chaunces wherewith they are beset round about, needily constrayneth to be so. And O most woonderfull blindnesse, for that what ye ought to hope of your selues, at leastwyse ye learne at length by others. But thus the case standeth, your mindes hardly can enter into bitter cogitations: and therefore while eue∣ry one promiseth him selfe very long lyfe, and either the age of Nestor or as Cicero sayth, the fortune of Metellus. and finally whyle euery one supposeth him selfe to be dame Natures whyte sonne, whyle they be busie about the beginning, the end commeth vpon them, and while they are in consultation of many thinges, death setteth vpon them at vnwares, and cutteth them of in the middes of their endeuours.

Sorowe.

I dye in my greene age.

Reason.

If there be none other commoditie herein, at leastwise there is prouision made hereby, y^t thou shalt not languish in thine old yeeres. For although that old age be not greeuous, as Lelius sayth in Cicero, and we also haue disputed before, neuerthelesse it taketh away that greenesse, wherein he sayth, that Scipio flou∣rished at that time, and thou likewise reportest now the like of thy selfe. Hereafter perhaps many shal wish for thee, but none shal be weery of thee: which thing in a long life although it be gouerned by vertue, is an hard matter to be found.

Sorowe.

I die a young man.

Reason.

Thou knowest what thou hast suffred alredy in thy life time, but what thou were like to suffer hereafter, thou knowest not: and beleeue me, whoso in this so variable and rough king∣dome of Fortune dyeth first, deceiueth his companion.

Sorow.

I am hyndered by death, so that I can not ende the thynges that I beganne.

Reason.

And tustly in deede. For ye be euer∣more a dooyng the thynges that ye ought to haue doone, and yet there is nothyng finished: this is the cheefest thyng that ma∣keth your death greeuous and miserable vnto you: but yf the thynges that thou begannest were suche, that without any

negligence in thee thou couldest not finishe them, it suffiseth thee that thou hadest a good wylt hervnto. But if through slouthfulnes thou hast put them of from time to time, let it displease thee that thou hast neglected them. If this peraduenture be the pretended cause of thy lamentation, yet in trueth there is nothyng but a vayne lengthening of lyfe, and a deferryng of death wyshed for thereby, although it wyll not be long, but at length, though late, thou wylt be ashamed of this vulgare wyshe. But, O ye mortall men, how greedie soeuer ye be of lyfe, hearken vnto mee: I de∣maunde of you, the exercise of Vertue beyng layde asyde, what is this lyfe other, then a slack and vnprofitable tariance, which how long so euer it is, can not be other then very short? Wherefore I lyke wel of the saying of a certaine good fellowe, of whom S. Au∣gustine maketh mention: whom beyng in extremitie of sich∣nesse, when as his freendes comforted hym, saying that he should not dye of that disease, he answered: Though I shal neuer dye wel. yet because I must dye once, why shoulde I not dye nowe?

Sorowe.

I dye, my businesse beyng vnperfected.

Reason.

If thou cal to minde those that haue been most famous for wisedome, or other notable exploites, the most part of them haue dyed, leauyng theyr woorkes vnfinished: vnto verie fewe it hath hapned in this lyfe, to bryng to perfect ende theyr conceyued and vndertaken at∣temptes. But thou, since that after the common manner of men, thou hast throwen thy selfe into these difficulties, and that which is past can not be called agayne, take holde of this onely way and meane, eftsoones to aduaunce thy selfe: not lamenta∣bly and vaynely to looke backe vpon many imperfecte thynges, but manly to goe through with that onely which remayneth, that is to say, to dye well.

Of a Violent death. The .Cxxj. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

BUT I dye a violent death.

Reason.

Euery death is violent vnto thee, yf thou dye vnwillyngly, but yf thou dye wyllyngly, there is no death violent.

Sorowe.

I dye a

violent death.

Reason.

If the strength of life be taken away, what skylleth it whether it be by an ague, or by the swoord? And so that thou depart freely, what maketh it matter whether the doores of thy bodily dungeon do open alone, or be broken open?

Sorow.

I dye violently.

Reason.

There are many kyndes of deathes, and but one death only, whiche whether it be violent or not, it ly∣eth in his handes that dyeth: the greater force ouercommeth the lesser, and consent quite extinguisheth it. A wyse man commeth thus instructed, that looke what he cannot withstande, he consen∣teth vnto it. But perhaps thou wylt say: doest thou counsel me then to consent vnto hym that kylleth me? Verily, some haue not onely consented vnto them, but also geuen them thankes: yea, there was suche an one founde, as wyllingly excused the igno∣rance of his murtherers, and at the very giuing vp of the ghost, prayed for them. But I am not she that commaund thee to agree vnto the fact of the bloudie butcher or cruel executioner, but on∣ly vnto the inuincible necessitie of destinie, whiche who so obey∣eth not willyngly, shalbe brought thereunto by force.

Sorowe.

I dye by myne enimies hande.

Reason.

What, didest thou suppose then that thou couldest dye by thy freendes hande, whiche cannot possibly happen, but vnwittingly?

Sorowe.

I dye by mine enimies hande.

Reason.

So shalt thou escape thine eni∣mies handes. For whyle he pursueth his wrath, he prouideth for thy libertie, and abateth his owne power, and hath aucthoritie ouer thee no longer.

Sorowe.

I perysh by the hande of myne enimie.

Reason.

It is better to peryshe vnder an vniust enimie, then vnder a iust Prince. For in the one the murtherer is cul∣pable, and in the other the murthered is not gyltlesse.

Sorow.

I am slayne by the hand of myne enimie.

Reason.

What, doth it touche thee more with what hande, then with what swoorde thou art dispatched? We speake not of the hande, but of the wounde. Howbeit, Pompeius in Lucane seemeth to wyshe that he might be slayne by Caesars owne hande, as a comfort in his death: and also in Statius Capaneus comfor∣teth Ipseus, and in Virgil Aeneas Lausus. and Camilla Or∣nithus. for that they wer slayne by their handes.

Sorow.

I dye by the swoord.

Reason.

This fortune is common vnto thee with

the greatest men, forasmuch as most part of the worthiest men that eyther haue lyued in most blessed estate in this world, or are nowe most holy fainctes in the euerlastyng kyngdome, haue dyed by the sworde: whom al yf I would vndertake to rehearse, I should play the part rather of a long historician, then of a short admonisher.

Sorowe.

I peryshe by the swoord.

Reason.

Dyuers diuersly haue come to their ende: some by the halter, some by a fal, some by the Lyons clawes, some by the wilde boa∣res teeth: many haue wanted a swoord, beyng desirous to haue ended their lyues with a weapon.

Sorowe.

I am slayne with a swoord.

Reason.

Howe knowest thou whether thou shoul∣dest escape to fal into greater destruction, and that this death whiche thou thinkest to be most miserable, be the eschuyng of a greater miserie? I tolde thee before, howe that Plotinus, who next vnto Plato was the seconde glory of Philosophie, was strooken with a pestilent leprosie. But I recited not vnto thee, hoowe that Euripides, who immediatly after Homer was the seconde light of Greece for poetrie, was torne in peeces by dogges. Lucreti∣us, who among your countrey Poetes was next to the chiefe, of whom Virgil was not ashamed to borowe so muche as he dyd, drinking of a slabbersauce confectioned amorous cup, fel into a sickenesse and extreame madnesse, and in the ende was enforced in dispatche hymselfe with a swoord for remedie. Herod kyng of Iudea, dyed beyng beset with an armie of foule and loathsome diseases, so that the more compendious and short way of diyng might be by hym enuied at, as doubtlesse I thinke it was. Hadri∣an that was Emperour of Rome, beyng ouercome with the payne and tediousnesse of his sickenesse, was wylling, if it had been lawful, to shorten the extremitie of his greefe, by dynt of swoord. It is reported, howe that in our age there was a great personage consumed by woormes, that issued out of al the partes of his body, and another in lyke manuer deuoured by myse. A∣mong so many mockeries and infirmities of mans body, who is so weake, that yf he might haue his choyce, woulde not rather desire to dye by the swoorde?

Sorowe.

I peryshe by fire.

Reason.

Some that supposed the soule to be of a firie force and ••atur••, haue thought that to be the most easiest kinde of death.

Sorowe.

I am consumed with fire.

Reason.

Thy body by this meanes beyng delyuered from the wormes, wil not putri∣fie.

Sorowe.

I am euer whelmed in water.

Reason.

A feast for the fishes, and for thy selfe a place of burial, large, cleere, and notable. And what maketh it matter, whether thou render vp thine earthen carcase to the earth, or to the sea?

Sorow.

I dye in the sea.

Reason.

Not where, but howe a man dyeth, ma∣keth to the purpose: euery where a man may dye wel, and euery∣where yll. It is not in the place, but in the minde that maketh the death happie or wretched.

Sorowe.

I peryshe in the sea.

Reason.

I knowe that many are perswaded that it is miserable to be drowned in water, for that the ethereal and burnyng spi∣rite seemeth to be ouercome by his contrarie: but as I sayde be∣fore, the place maketh nothyng, but it is the minde that maketh all vnto the miserie. And therefore I lyke very wel of the an∣swere of a certayne sayler I wot not what he was: of whom when on a tyme one demaunded, where his father dyed: he an∣sweared, vpon the sea. Then demaundyng farther the lyke of his graundfather, and great graundfather, & great great graund∣father: receiuing the same answere concernyng them al, at length he inferred, and art not thou afearde then, quoth he, to goe to sea? The sayler answeared dissemblingly: I pray thee, quoth he, tell me also where thy father dyed? In his bed, answeared the other. And where lykewyse thy graundfather? Euen he, sayde the ocher, and my great grandfather, and great great grandfa∣ther, and al my auncetours dyed in their beddes. The sayler an∣sweared: art not thou then afeard, quoth he, to goe into thy bed? Trimly answeared truely, and somewhat more then say∣lerlyke. Concernyng the death therefore, let nature looke to that whiche made men mortal, and as touchyng the kynde of death, the place, and tyme, let fortune vse her discretion.

Sorow.

I dye by poyson.

Reason.

I tolde thee whilere, what nota∣ble companions thou hast herein, whereas I entreated of this matter onely. The swoord is a princely death, but most of al, poyson. And to conclude: it is a very ridiculus matter, when thou hast determined of the death, to be carefull of the instrumentes.

Of a shameful death. The .cxxii. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

BUt my death is shameful.

Reason.

It is not the kynde, nor qualitie of the death, but the cause of the punishment that maketh it shameful.

Sorow.

I dye reprochefully.

Rea∣son.

No good man dyeth yll, no euyl man, well. It is not the pompe of buryal, nor the attendance and waiting of seruantes and officers, nor the ryche garmentes, nor the spoyles of the eni∣mies, nor the shieldes and swoordes turned downe and dragged after, nor the whole family mournyng for their maister, nor the howlynges and outcryes of the common people, nor the wyfe drenched in teares, nor the chyldren with duetiful compassion re∣solued in sorowe, nor the cheefe mourner, who soeuer he be, hol∣dyng downe his head, and walkyng before the corpes attired in blacke, and wofully be dewing his face with stoare of bitter tea∣res, nor lastly the oratour or preacher in commendation of hym that is to be buryed, nor the golden images and pictures where∣with to furnyshe the sepulcher, nor the titles and stiles of hym that is dead, whiche beyng engrauen in marble shal lyue vntyl suche tyme, as though it be long first, death also consume the stones themselues: but it is vertue and the famous report of hym that hath deserued well, and needeth not the brute of the com∣mon multitude, but whiche sheweth it selfe in it owne maiestie, and not whiche the headelong and blynde fauour of men, but rather a long continuance in doing wel, and an innocent lyfe hath procured, and also the defence of trueth and iustice vnder∣taken euen to the death, and moreouer a valiant minde and no∣table bouldnesse euen in the middes and thickest of deathes shar∣pest threatninges, that maketh the death honest and honourable. Agaynst which most honourable death, what place remayneth there for reproch? Or howe can he die shamefully that dyeth in such manner: yea, though there be prepared agaynst the body in slauish sore whippes & roddes, & tormentes, & halters, & axes, yea, high gallowetrees & wheeles set vpon the toppes of postes, & car∣tes with wild horses to teare the limmes of the body insunder: adde

moreouer, fire & fagot, & gridirons set vpon glowyng coales, and caudrons sweatyng with hot scaldyng oyle, & the sharpe teeth of cruel wylde beastes whetted with hunger: and lastly hookes and other engins to drag withal the mangled carcases about the streetes, or whatsoeuer other villanie or reproche may be deuised, or the lyuing or deade body be put vnto: the death, I say, may happely seeme cruel, but shameful it cannot be: but rather many tymes the crueller it is, the more glorious it is. And therefore neyther the outward preparance for execution, nor the thronging of the people, nor the trumpets, nor the terrible lookes of the hangmen and tormentours, nor the wrathful voyce of the Tirant, are any thing to the purpose. But turne thee into thy selfe, there seeke and awake thy selfe, and with al the force of thy mynde that remayneth, arme thy selfe agaynst the present extremitie: with∣drawe thyne eares from the odious noyse, turne away thine eyes from the pompe and preparation for the execution, and secretly gather togeather thy spirites and comfort thy soule within thee, and examine the thinges themselues and not their shadowes. And yf thou be able with ful sight to beholde death in the face, I suppose thou shalt feare neyther swoord, nor axe, nor halter, nor poysoned cuppes, nor the hangmen dropping with goare blood: for why, it is a vayne thyng when thou contemnest thine e∣nimie, to be afeard of his furniture or ensignes.

Sorowe.

I am condemned to a shameful death.

Reason.

It hapneth many∣tymes that the accuser is infamous, and the wytnesses dishonest, and the iudge obscure, and the partie accused very noble: and of∣ten the death is commonly accounted reprochful, and he that dyeth, honourable and glorious. And to speake nothyng of any other, for that there haue been to many suche alreadie and to much vnwoorthy of that ende, what death was there euer more shame∣ful then the death of the crosse? Vpon whiche the most excellent and glorious lyght both of heauen and earth was hanged, to the ende that thenceforth no state or condition of men whatsoeuer, shoulde iudge it to be reprocheful. And forasmuche as there is no∣thyng higher then the highest, in this example onely I make an ende. Vertue alone is able to make any kinde of death honest, and there is no death that can blemishe vertue.

Of a suddayne death. The .cxxiii. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

BVt I dye to suddeynly.

Reason.

It is not long since, yf I forget not my selfe, that thou sayest thou wast olde: I meruayle then howe there can be any death suddayne to an olde man, who vnlesse he doate or be mad, hath death euer∣more before his eyes. For, since there is this wholsome counsel geuen to al ages, that they perswade themselues that euery day is the last that they shall lyue, it is most specially conuenient for olde age to thynke euery houre the last of their lyfe. And not on∣ly not to hearken vnto that which is wrytten by Cicero: There is no man so olde, that thinketh not to lyue one yeere longer: but not so muche vnto that which Seneca sayeth, one day longer.

Sorow.

I dye suddaynly.

Reason.

In this case what shal I answere thee other, then repeate that, which that most mightie personage, no lesse in wyt then great in fortune, answeared, scarse one whole day, when he disputed thereof, before his death, as prophecy∣ing of the trueth thereof by reason of the neerenesse of the expe∣rience. Who pronounced, that a suddayne and vnprouided death was most to be wyshed. Whiche iudgement seemeth to be disso∣nant from that religion whiche teacheth to pray with bowed knees vnto GOD euery day, to be delyuered from this kynde of death. Neyther do I lyke of this opinion, where there is other∣wyse choyse and libertie: but thou must in other manner perswade thyselfe, for I say not that it is such a death, as thou oughtest to wyshe for, but suche an one as thou mayest wel endure. For this is a cleare case, that vnto a wyse man and one that foreseeth a far of al thynges that are lyke to ensue, there can nothyng happen vnlooked for. Whereupon it foloweth, that death cannot come vnto hym vnprouided for, whose lyfe was alwayes prouident: for how should he be negligent in the greatest thinges, that was wount to demurre in small, yea, the least thynges? And in al worldly thynges, what canst thou shewe me that is greater then death, or comparable vnto it?

Sorowe.

I dye most speedily.

Reason.

So that the death be not vnthought

vpon, the speedier, the easier it is: and yf there be any payne in it, it is very short, and the speedinesse thereof preuenteth the feelyng of it, and so that is taken away from death, whiche is most greeuous in death, to wyt, the feare of death.

Of one that is sicke out of his owne countrey. The .cxxiiii. Dialogue.

SOROW.

I Am sicke in a strainge countrey.

Reason.

What skylleth it whose countrey it be, the sickenesse thou art sure is thine owne.

Sorowe.

Thou mockest me, I am sicke out of mine owne countrey.

Reason.

He that is out of his owne coun∣trey, is surely in some other: for none can be sicke or whole out of al countreyes.

Sorow.

Thou seekest delayes in wordes, but I am sicke out of my countrey.

Reason.

In this miserie thou gainest this one commoditie, that thou hast none to trouble thee, nor to lye vpon thy bed, not thine importunate wyfe, nor thy sonne, who woulde both be careful for them selues, and carelesse of thee. Howe often thinkest thou, hath the wyfe to her husband, and the sonne to the father, and one brother to another, when they haue lien in extremitie of death throwne a pillowe ouer their mouthes, and holpen to set them packyng, whiche a stranger would not haue done, nor haue suffered to be done by others? Ma∣ny tymes there is most loue where it is lesse looked for: and there none that are about thee wylbe glad of thy sickenesse, or wyshe for thy death. And shall I tel thee the cause why? There is none there that looketh for thine inheritance: none commit any wic∣kednesse, but they are moued thereunto by hope or desire, which quietnesse wherein thou art nowe, would not haue hapned vnto thee in thine owne countrey. For many vnder the colour of good∣wyl woulde flocke about thee, and gape after thy burial: whiche conceit, vnlesse I be much deceiued, is a seconde sickenesse to him that is sicke alreadie, when he shal perceiue himselfe beset rounde about, at the one side with woolfes, and at the other with rauens

whiche in their mindes come to pray on the carcase.

Sorowe.

I am sicke out of my countrey.

Reason.

Howe knowest thou that? Perhaps thou returnest nowe into thy countrey: for the rea∣diest and shortest way for a man to returne into his countrey, is to dye.

Sorowe.

I am sicke out of my countrey.

Reason.

O the needelesse alwayes and vayne cares of men, and fond com∣playntes: as though out of a mans owne countrey his ague were fiercer, or his gout more intollerable? Al this whiche seemeth euyl, consisteth in your owne wyl, and lyeth in your owne power, lyke as other plagues and mischeefes do, whatsoeuer a false o∣pinion hath engendred in your mindes.

Of one that dyeth out of his owne cuntrey. The .cxxv. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Dye out of my natiue countrey.

Reason.

Doth this happen vnto thee, beyng a traueiler, or a banished man? For whether thou madest thine aboade in this countrey for studie sake, or for religion, thou hast cause to reioyce that death hath taken thee in an honest deede, or in a iust condemnation, and thou oughtest to take it not onely valiantly, but also willingly. For the wyckednesse of an vnryghteous person is by no meanes bet∣ter purged, then by wyllyng and patient suffryng of punishment. But yf it be long of the iniurie of some mightie enimie, neuer∣thelesse thou must not be sorie for it: and as for banishment, I sup∣pose, we haue disputed sufficiently of it alreadie.

Sorowe.

I dye out of my countrey.

Reason.

This I sayd euen nowe, is to returne into thy cuntrey, there is no streighter path, nor readier way. Hast thou forgotten hudemus of Cyprus that was fami∣liar with Aristotle, of whom Aristotle hymselfe and also Cice∣ro wryteth? Who, on a tyme beyng very sicke in Thessalia, dreamed that he should recouer very shortly, and after fiue yeeres expired, returne into his countrey, & that the Tyrant of the same citie, where at that tyme he soiourned, whose name was Alex∣ander Phaereus, shoulde dye shortly. But when after a fewe

dayes, beyng restored vnto his despaired health, and the Tyrant slayne by his owne kinsfolke, thinking his dreame to be true in al poyntes, at the tyme limitted he looked also to returne into his Countrey, at the ende of the fyfth yeere he was slayne in fyght at Syracuse: and this sayd the Interpretours of dreames, was the meanes of the returnyng into his Countrey, that there myght be no part of the dreame false. What myne opinion is concernyng dreames, I haue declared elsewhere alreadie, and nowe I haue vttered what came into my mynde of this retur∣nyng into a mans Countrey.

Sorowe.

I am compelled to dye out of my Countrey.

Reason.

When I entreated of ex∣ile, then sayd I, which nowe I repeate agayne, that eyther none or all dye out of theyr Countrey. The learned holde opinion, that euery part of the worlde is a mans Countrey, specially to hym that hath a valiant minde, whom any priuate affection hath not tyed to the liking of this place or that: and othersome call that a mans Countrey where he is wel, and lyueth in good case. And contrariwyse, some say, that a man hath heere no speciall Coun∣trey at all. The fyrst is a common doctrine, but this last a poynt of hygher Philosophie.

Sorowe.

I dye farre from my Countrey in which I was borne.

Reason.

But that is more truely thy Countrey, where thou dyest. The same shall possesse thee longer, and not suffer thee to wander abroade, but keepe thee within it for a perpetuall inhabitaunt for euer. Learne to lyke of this Countrey, that wyll enfranchize thee into it selfe, wheresoeuer otherwyse thou were borne.

Sorowe.

I must dye, and be buried farre out of myne owne Countrey.

Reason.

Those heauenly and diuine men lykewyse, whom one age, and the selfe same middle part of the worlde brought foorth, are dis∣persed ouer all partes of the worlde, as well in theyr deathes as burialles. Ephesus keepeth one, and Syria another, and Persis another, and Armenia another, and Aethiopia another, and India another, and Achaia another, and Rome othersome, and the farthest part of Spayne another: neuerthelesse it is reported, that some of them after theyr death, were carried away and translated from the places where they dyed, vnto certayne Cities of Italy: I speake of the earthly part of them, but as for theyr

spirituall part, doubtlesse it is long since that they possessed the kyngdome of heauen.

Sorowe.

I must needes dye out of my Countrey.

Reason.

What shall I speake of men of a meaner degree? One that was remooued fyrst from Stri∣don, Bethleem and afterwarde Rome receyued, Fraunce ano∣ther from Pannonia, and Parris another from Athens, and Rome another from Greece and Spayne, and Millaine another from Rome lyuing, and the same when he was dead Sardinia from Africa, and shortly after Ticinum from Sardinia: two most bryght shining streames of the East, march in merites, and ioyned in minde, and neere in bodye. Who they be that I speake of thou knowest, and therefore in makyng hast, I ouer∣passe many thynges. But that thou mayest not want also an example of the thyrde sorte: Cyprus receyued one from the land of Palestine, and Campania another from Nursia: Spaine this one, and Italie that other, and Bononie one, and Padua an∣other.

Sorowe.

I vnderstande well all that euer thon mea∣nest, notwithstandyng vnwillingly doo I dye farre from my Countrey.

Reason.

And truely I vnderstande the very cause hereof: to wit, for that the most sacred spirites and mindes which alwayes haue their affections fixed in heauen, haue no care at all of their earthly Countrey, which care thou hast not yet layd aside, but truely beleeue mee, yf thou hope after heauen, thou must needes lay it asyde indeede. Neuerthelesse, I wyll entreate of o∣thers that were louers of vertue, and mindfull of heauen, and yet not through their loue of heauen, altogether forgetful of the earth. The boanes of Pythagoras of Samos, Metapontus dyd couer. Cicero, whom Arpine brought foorth, and Rome dyd nourysh, the bay of Caieta sawe dead. Plinie, whom the riuer Athesis washed when he was an infant, the ashes of the mount Veseuus couered when he was olde. Mantua brought Virgil into the worlde, Brundusium, or as other some write Tarentum pluc∣ked hym away, and now Naples holdeth hym. Sulmo framed the Poet Ouid, but his exile in Pontus disolued him. Carthage, as it is reported, brought forth Terence the Comike Poet, but Rome taught him, and Arcadia buried him. Apulia sent foorth Horace the Poet, and Calabria Ennius, and the Prouince of Narbona

Statius, and Vasconia Ausonius, & Corduba the three Annei, or as some say, foure, to wit, the two Senecaes, and Gallio, and the Poet Lucan. And al these, & ouer & besides Plautus of Arpine, and Lucillus of Arunca, and Pacuuius of Brundusium, & Iu∣uenal of Aquinum, and Propertius of Vmbria, & Valerius of Antium, and Catullus of Verona, and Varrus of Cremona, and Gallus of Forli, and Actius of Pisaurum, & Cassius of Parma, & Claudianus of Florence, & Persius of Volaterrae, & a thousand moe hath Rome receiued, and for the most part buried, only Ti∣tus Liuius of Padua, with muche adoo was restored vnto his Countrey to be enterred: and so contrariwise, Rome hath bread many that haue dyed, and ben buried in other places. The whole world is in manner of a narrow house fouresquare, wherein men passe from one extremitie to another, and in the one is life, and in the other death. Men of valiant courage esteeme of it for none o∣ther cause, then for the varietie of the vse thereof, as it were to goe out of a cold bath into a stone, or to chaing out of a winter cham∣ber into a summer lodging. This chaing and varietie, namely, to be borne in one place, and buried in another, is common among al men, specially the more noble fort.

Sorowe.

I knowe it is so, yet I dye sorowfully out of myne owne Countrey.

Reason.

Thou shouldest dye no more merily in that Countrey, which thou callest thyne: but ye geue your selues ouer to teares, and seeke causes to lament and be sorie, as yf ye tooke pleasure in them. But yf the examples of holy, learned, and discrete pouertie can not discharge thy minde hereof, which is infected with the er∣rours of the vulgare multitude, I wyll alleage them that haue been more fortunate, in proouing that this which troubleth thee hath hapned to the most famous Captaynes, Dukes, Kynges, and Emperours, so that I wyll see whether thou wylt refuse that fortune which may befal to a man.

Sorowe.

Whom thou wylt speake of and alleage, I knowe well enough: but what neede many woordes? I am sorie to dye out of my Countrey, & the place encreaseth the greefe of my death.

Reason.

I per∣ceiue thou refusest to be cured, yet wyll I proceede, but with how good effect, that looke thou vnto: as for me, it shall suffice to vt∣ter the trueth, and geue thee faythfull warnyng. Alexander

was borne at Pella, slayne at Babylon, and his ashes buried at Alexandria, a Citie called after the name of the founder. The other Alexander was brought vp in the Princes Palace of Epirus, and drowned in the Riuer Lucanus. Kyng Cyrus was borne in his Kyngdome of Persis, and slayine and man∣gled in Scythia. Rome, and the whole Romane Empire had in admiracion Marcus Crassus, and Pompeius the great: which as it was able to beare the greatnesse of them whyle they lyued: so yf Fortune had so suffered, it had been sufficient to haue receyued theyr ashes: but the one was couered with earth in Assyria beyonde Euphrates, the other ouerwhelmed in the Channell of the Aegyptian streame. Vnto the latter Cato, the Citie of Rome gaue both begynnyng and name, but Vtica brought both ende and surname. The Cornelii Scipioes, Rome procreated, most noble and profitable members of the Common∣wealth, by whom it had been often saued and adorned: whom notwithstanding their destinies so dispersed, that those two which are called the great, were entombed both in Spanish moulde, and the elder Africane at Linternum, and Nasica at Pergamus, and Lentulus within Scicil, dwelling al in seuerall and disioyned graues. Of all this number, only Asiaticus and Africanus the younger lye buried at Rome, who perhaps had lyen better in any banishment whatsoeuer: for the fyrst was punyshed by impri∣sonment, the other by death. And thus many tymes it happeneth, that a man may lyue better, and dye better, in any other place, then in his owne Countrey, and lye nowhere harder then at home. The three Deci, although the common report make men∣tion but of twayne, dyed valiantly out of theyr owne Countrey, the Father fyghting with the Latines, the Sonne with the He∣trurians and the Nephew, as Cicero addeth, with Pyrrhus; To what purpose shoulde I nowe rehearse in order as they come to my minde, woorthie Captaynes and Princes, whiche were all borne at Rome, and dyed elsewhere? Africa behelde Attilius Regulus howe muche the more cruelly, so muche the more glo∣riously dying, both for the preseruyng of his Countrey, and also of his fayth and credite with his enimie: and in the next war followyng, Cortona sawe Caius Flaminius, and Cumae Paulus

Aemilius, and Venusia, Claudius Marcellus, and Lucania, Ti∣berius Gracchus lying dead: it was the fortune of none of these to dye at Rome. Two noble Gentlemen of great hope and expectation in the Romane Commonwealth, were cut of in the very floure of their youth, Drusus and Marcellinus: who al∣though they returned both into their Countrey, yet dyed they both farre from their Countrey, Drusus in Germanie, and Mar∣cellinus in Baion. And tell me nowe, are thou prouder then Tar∣quinius, or myghtier then Sylla? Yet the fyrst of these dyed a bannished man at Cumae, the other beyng a great Lorde, gaue vp the ghost at Puteoli. What shall I speake of men of meaner degree? Augustus Caesar, who was called Father of his Coun∣trey, dyed out of his Countrey at Nola in Campania. Tybe∣rius, that was vnlyke in Manners, but equall in Empire, de∣ceassed at Misenum in Campania. Vespasian and Titus, two most excellent Princes, as it well became the father and the sonne, dyed in one Village, yet without of the Citie of Rome▪ though not farre. But ••raian, being borne in the West part of the worlde, dyed in the East. Septimus Seuerus came but of a base parentage in Africa, and had a proude Empire at Rome▪ and was buried at Yorke in Englande. Theodosius that was borne in Spayne, and dyed at Millain, Constantinople recey∣ued: whiche Citie also had in it before, the founder thereof beyng of the same name, but borne in another place. What shall I neede to recite others? Lycurgus, who fledde from Sparta, Creta receyued, which long before had seene Kyng Saturne bannished out of his Kyngdome, and flying from his sonne, and hearde howe he hyd hym selfe in the confines of Italie, and was there buried. A poore graue of Bithynia, couereth Hannibal the lyght of all Africa. Theseus, Themistocles, and Solon, the three Diamondes of all Athens, were so scattered by For∣tune, that the fyrst was buried in Syria, the seconde in Persis, and the thyrde in Cyprus, in farre vnfitte Graues for so woor∣thie Carcasses. The day woulde sooner fayle mee then mat∣ter, yf I shoulde stande to reporte euery example. But my purpose was not to weerie thee with Histories, but onely to instructe thee.

Sorowe.

I vnderstande thy meanyng: and

I confesse, that all these, and as many moe as thou canst rec∣ken, dyed out of theyr Countreyes in deede: but I denie that it was with their wylles, but rather I suppose to theyr great greefe.

Reason.

Whereby speakest thou this, but onely for that all fooles iudge other lyke them selues, and thynke that to be impossible for others to doo, which they them selues can not attayne to. And perhappes thou hast hearkened to the olde pro∣uerbe: It is good to lyue abrode in strange Countries, but yll to dye there: when as in deede they are both good, so that they be order∣ly doone, with patient forbearyng, and comlinesse: but both euyl, yf they be yll handled, lamentably, and without discretion. I wyll tell thee that which thou wylt marueyll at, and is quite re∣pugnant to the olde prouerbe: If there be any iust occasion to complayne of the cause, I had rather impute the same to the ly∣uyng, whom perhaps in some respect it may concerne, then hym that lyeth a dying, who hath now no regarde of any place, see∣yng that he is vpon departyng from all places.

Sorowe.

Somewhat thou moouest my minde, neuerthelesse I am yet desirous to dye in my Countrey.

Reason.

The wyll of man, vnlesse it be bridled by vertue and wysedome, of it selfe is wylde and vnreclaymed. And yf thou consider of the matter deepely, thou wylt confesse, that none of all this appertayneth vnto thee, seeyng that thou thy selfe canst remayne heere no longer, nor thy boanes retayne any sense after thy deceasse to discerne where thou myghtest haue lyen harder or softer, and also vnto that place whyther thou departest, which had been the shorter or easier way. When Anaxagoras lay a dying in a farre forraine Countrey, and his freendes demaunded of hym whether after his death he woulde be carried home in∣to his owne natiue soyle, he answeared very finely, saying, that it shoulde not neede: and he added the cause why: for that the way to Heauen is of lyke distaunce from all pla∣ces. Whiche answeare serueth as well for them that goe downe to Hell, as for those that goe vp to Heauen.

Sorowe.

I woulde GOD I myght dye at home.

Reason.

If thou were there, perhappes thou wouldest wyshe thy selfe in another place: perswade thy selfe so. Learne to doo that

dying, whiche thou oughtest to haue doone lyuyng. An hard matter it is for you, O ye mortall men, to beare your selues vpryghtly, ye are so dayntie and faultfyndyng, euer∣more makyng none account of that whiche ye haue, and al∣wayes iudging best of that whiche ye want.

Sorowe.

O, that I myght dye at home?

Reason.

Peraduenture thou shouldest see many thynges there, that woulde make thy death more greeuous vnto thee: for whiche cause thynke that thou art remooued, to the intent that all other cares beyng set apart, thou myghtest onely thynke vpon GOD, and thyne owne soule.

Of one that dyeth in Sinne. The .Cxxvj. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Oye in sinne.

Reason.

This is neyther Natures, nor Fortunes, but thyne owne fault.

Sorowe.

I dye in sinne.

Reason.

Fyrst, who enforced thee to commit sinne? And next, who forbydde thee to bewayle it when it was committed? And last of all, who letteth thee from repentyng, though it be late fyrst? For vnto the last gaspe the spirite and minde is free.

Sorowe.

Whyles I am dying, I carrie my sinnes with mee.

Reason.

Beware thou doo not so: lay downe that venemous and deadly car∣riage, whyle thou hast tyme, and there is one that wyll take it away and blotte it out, accordyng as it is written, and wyll cast it behynde his backe into the bottome of the Sea, and wyll abandon it as farre from thee, as the East is di∣stant from the West. If thou neglect this houre, when it is once past it wyll neuer returne agayne. Whith qualitie, although it be common to all houres, that alwayes they passe away and neuer returne, yet many tymes that which hath been omitted in one houre, may be perhappes recouered in another: but yet the neglectyng of the last houre of a mans lyfe

is irrecurable. And therefore, as some report it to be found in the secret disputations of the soule, the errours of this lyfe, are as it were softe falles vpon the playne grounde, after which, a man may soone ryse vp agayne: but the sinne vnto death, is compared vnto a greeuous fall from some hygh and craggie place, after which, it is not possible to aryse any more, the hurt therein taken is so great, that it can not be salued. Wherefore, helpe thy selfe nowe whyle thou mayest, and call to remembraunce, not onely what your owne writers say, but also what Cicero counselleth, who in his woorke de Diuina∣tione, of Diuination, disputing of those that are dying: Doo thou cheefely, quod he, studie to winne commendation, and thynke that they which haue lyued otherwyse then they ought, doo most bitter∣ly repent them of their sinnes. What, I pray thee, coulde be vtte∣red by any man more religiously or profitably, yf so be that be followed which is commaunded, and thou repent thee, though it be late fyrst? A difficult and dangerous matter it is truely to deferre the tyme, which hath deceyued very many, who wit∣tingly and willingly put of the clensing of their soules, which can not be doone too speedily, from day to day, and alwayes ad∣iourne it vnto their latter tyme, in which beyng suddenly ta∣ken short, and amazed with the neerenesse of death, they leaue all vndoone whatsoeuer they determined. Concernyng which matter, forasmuche as your writers haue sayde very muche, it shall not be impertinent to heare what the Poet Virgil sayeth, who is an externall witnesse, with what woordes he reprooueth this slouthfulnesse and negligence in repentance, which to come foorth of his mouth is woonderfull, whereas among the infernal Spirites he bryngeth in hym to be a Iudge, whose vpryghtnesse and equitie is verie famous. Who, as he sayeth, Examineth the Ghostes, and punisheth them, and constray∣neth them to confesse their deceiptes: and also if there be any such, that whyle they lyued vpon the earth, reioyced in vaine thefte, & dif∣ferred to repent them thereof vntil they dyed, which was too late. And albeit this be so dangerous as I haue declared, notwithstanding there is nothing more perilous then Despaire, neither hath y^e eni∣mie of your saluation founde out any thing more hurtfull to your

good estate. For al other mischeefes are asswaged by their pecu∣liar remedies, but of al eulles this is the greatest and last of all, whiche yf it take holde of the soule when it is departyng, then is there no place left for recouerie. The same therefore alwayes, but specially in the ende, ought most earnestly be resisted, for that then it vseth to vrge most sharpely. And nowe there is no tyme left for thee, wherein by staggeryng or trifling thou reiect whole∣some counsel concernyng thy saluation. From this let no feare dryue thee, nor the shame and sorowe of differringe withholde thee: it is better to awake late at nyght, then not at al, and what soeuer is ill differed, is woorse omitted.

Sorowe.

I dye with∣out al hope.

Reason.

Thou sayest yll: rather plucke vp hope agayne, and lay it to thy hart, and embrace it, coll it, and keepe it with the armes of thy soule.

Sorowe.

My sinne is exceedyng great.

Reason.

N••mans sinne can be so great, but Gods mercie is muche greater.

Sorow.

Who is able to forgeue so many sinnes?

Reason.

Who thinkest thou, but he onely, at whom his enimies woonderyng, contended among themselues and demaunded: Who is this that forgeueth sinnes also?

Sorow.

Who is able to merite forgeuenesse of so great sinnes?

Reason.

None truely can deserue, nor neuer deserued: neuerthelesse it hath freely been geuen to many, and shalbe geuen hereafter, so that it be craued by fayth and reuerence. There were some that went about to perswade Constantinus the Emperour, that there was no forgiuenesse of great sinnes. But that this doctrine is false, it appeareth not onely by your wryters, among whom the re∣mission of sinnes by baptisme and repentance is wel knowen. but also the lyke report, though false, was amonge the Pagans: towardes the curyng of whose diseases that medicine was then without effect, for that the heauenly Phisition was not yet come. And therefore, vnlesse the soule coulde haue been clensed from sinne, and the iniquitie thereof washed away, that same most greeuous sinner at the first, and afterward most gooly man, had prayed ful oft in vayne.

Sorow.

The remem∣brance of my sinne, cutteth of my hope.

Reason.

The remem∣brance of sinne ought to bryng sorowe and repentance into the mynde, but not take away hope. But ye are to muche in extre∣mities

on al sides: In sinne burnyng, after sinne key colde: In sinning ye reioyce, and in remembryng sinne ye despayre. Many euerywhere offend in hope of pardon, and on the otherside, not fewe when they haue sinned despayre of forgiuenesse, and both fortes are deceiued. And I woulde geue them counsel, for the first sort at the begynnyng to abandon that hurtful hope, and for the second to reteine fruitefull assurednesse.

Sorowe.

Death dryueth me foorth headlong that am laden with sinnes: what shal I do?

Reason.

What other then that whiche thou shouldest haue done ere this? That is to say, with speede laye downe thine vnhap∣pie burden, whereof beyng lyghtened thou shalt goe playnely, and not runne headlong. Thou shalt goe, I say, not stouping nor stum∣blyng, but with vpryght and steadie steppes, and a good hope. Goe to then, deferre no longer tyme, nor distrust not: for there is one yf thou do hartily entreathym, that wyl take it from thy shoul∣ders, and hath taken away heauier then this, vnto whom there is nothyng heauie nor difficult. And although that long delay do want excuse, yet late amendement deserueth commendation, for that it is better to amend late then neuer. Be of good cheare, and plucke vp thy hart: a fewe godly and feruent teares haue called many backe euen from hel gates. He standeth freendly at thy beddes heade, who not onely answeared the infected that he would clense hym, but also commaunded hym that had been buried foure dayes, to ryse out of his graue. And nowe lykewyse he atten∣deth to see, yf thou wylt be cleered and raysed vp agayne, be∣yng as louing and mercyfull at this present as he was then, and also as myghtie as euer he was. It lyeth yet in thy pow∣er in what state thou wylt dye, thou mayest yet depart with∣out sinne, not that thou haddest none, but that henceforward it shal not be imputed vnto thee. And although that Plinius the younger holde opinion, that ouer sinnes that are past, God hath no power at all, but onely to make them be forgotten: neuerthelesse he hath also the myght to take them a way, whiche that most curious man dyd not perceyue. And there∣fore, although that whiche is done cannot be vndone agayne, neuerthelesse the sinne that sprang by the doyng may be in suche sort taken away, that it remayne no longer, so that it come

to passe accordyng as it is wrytten: Sinne shalbe sought for. and not be founde. Not that the power of man is suche, that he can lose hymselfe from the bandes of sinne, but in that vnto the godly, and wel disposed wyl of man, and his coutrite heart, the present asistance of God is neuer wanting.

Of one dying, that is careful what shalbecome of his inheritance and children. The .Cxxvii. Dialogue.

FEARE.

WHat shal I hope of mine inheritance, and chyldren?

Reason.

Thyne inheritance shal haue owners, and thy chyldren their fortune.

Feare.

What shal be∣come of my great ryches?

Reason.

Thynke not that thine heire wyl thynke them to great. There were neuer any ryches so great, but they seemed to lytle in some respect. But con∣cernyng these let her looke vnto them, who tumbleth and tosseth your goodes whiche ye esteeme so deerly, hyther and thyther most vncertaynely.

Feare.

What wyl my chyldren doo?

Reason.

When their earthly father hath forsaken them, the heauenly fa∣ther wil receyue then into his protection, who wyl not leaue them as thou doest, nor make them Orphanes and fatherlesse chyldren. But he wyl nouryshe, and instruct them from their youth so that they shewe themselues willing to learne, and not forsake them vnto their olde yeeres and crooked age, no not to their death and graue. God is the hope vnto man when he is borne, and not his father, though he were a king. It is not good buyl∣ding vpon the sand, but vpon the rocke: for al hope in man is short and transitorie. And therefore thy children being deceiued by the hope which they reposed in thee, wil put their trust in God only, & sing with the Prophet Dauid: My father & my mo∣ther haue forsaken me, but the Lord hath taken me vp. The seedes & sparkes of good nature & vertue that haue appeared in many children, haue been quite extinguished by their parentes to muche cockling: lyke as on the contrary side, losse of parentes, and po∣uertie, haue oftentimes driuen away the childrens deintinesse.

Feare.

What wyl become of my ryches?

Reason.

They wyl returne from whence they came, (that is to say,) vnto for∣tunes handes: and from thence they shalbe dispersed from one to another, and neuer tarrie long with any. For they are of a flitting nature, and cannot abyde in one place: And that not without a mysterie. For some haue thought, that mony cannot tarrie in a place because of the roundensse & the rollyng forme of the coyne, whiche some merily haue sayd, to be a token of the slipperinesse thereof, whiche partly I cannot deny. But I am of opinion, that if it were three or foure square, it woulde tunne away as fast, I meane concernyng the continuall passing of ryches, whose nature is alwayes to slyp and flye away, to hate coffers that haue but one locke, to be delited with sundry and often posse∣ssours, eyther to the intent to auoyd rust, or els by their cur∣rantnesse and runnyng about to circumuent very many, or last∣ly to contend with their owners in vnconstancie. Seeyng there∣fore tha: thou lyest nowe a dying, cast of that care whiche vn∣to the lyuing is superfluous. But rather yf thou dye ryche, ac∣knowledge howe that there is seldome any rust founde in for∣tune, and nowe that thou art departyng out of this lyfe, flye ryches whiche are not profitable for thee, nor necessarie for any. But yf thou be poore, depart foorth vpon thy iourney lyght & without burden: whether thy ryches be very great, or indiffe∣rent, or very small, or none at al, heretofore they belonged very li∣tle vnto thee, but hencefoorth they shall apperteine vnto thee no∣thyng at al, but this much onely, that thou mayest perceyue, that he that was poorer then thou, lyued in more quietnesse then thou, seeing that these troublesome and paynefull helpes of lyfe, or whether thou list rather to terme them tormentes, doo make thy death more carefull.

Feare.

What shal become of my children?

Reason.

Thy name shall lyue in them, if they be good, and if that be any comfort in death, thou shalt not seeme wholy to be dead. For in their countenances, & actions, & gesture thy freendes wyl thinke and also reioyce that thou art restoared vnto them. But if they be euyl, thou hast cause willingly to forsake them, & those whom thou thyselfe couldest not correct nor tame, thou shalt deliuer them ouer vnto the worlde and fortune, to be corrected

and tamed. And do not thou nowe dying lament for them, that wyl nothyng at al be grieued at thy death, and perhaps are sorie that thou diedst not sooner.

Sorowe.

But what shal become of my goodes?

Reason.

Fearest thou, that when thou hast left them, they shal fynde no owner? They are looked for, they are wyshed for, they are valewed alreadie: neyther oughtest thou to be afeard so muche for the neglecting of them, as for the stri∣uing for them. But this is one thyng, they shal nowe surceasse to be thy goodes any longer, but whose they shalbe next, why doest thou looke vpon thy chyldren? It cannot possibly be know∣en, nor it must not: it suffiseth thee to knowe that they were once thine, yf euer they were thyne indeede, and not rather hers, that is the lady and mistresse of goodes that passe away, and generally of al wordly thynges, whose name is Fortune. But hauing been thine so long, that is to say, beyng but a short tyme in thy disposition, it is nowe hygh tyme for thee to depart, and to leaue them to others. Let them nowe learne to be at others commaundement awhile, and to keepe their accustomed chainge, vnlesse thou wylt dye so ambitiously, as some fooles haue also done the lyke, and haue thy monie buried with thee in thy graue, whiche may one day redownd to the commoditie of them that dig graues hereafter. But rather nowe at length cast from thee al care of the earth and metalles, and repose thy cogitations vpon heauen, and thine owne estate.

Feare.

My goodes flye from me.

Reason.

Diddest thou thinke that they woulde tarie, when thy lyfe passed away, and when thou thyselfe wast conti∣nually carried hence?

Feare.

What shal become of my goodes, when they leaue of to be myne?

Reason.

What dyd they be∣fore they were thyne?

Feare.

Leauing behynde me so great ryches as I doo, I depart naked.

Reason.

Naked thou camest into the worlde, and naked thou must depart agayne, whereof thou hast no cause to complayne, but rather to geue thankes. In the meane tyme, thou hast had the vse and occupiyng of an others goodes: there is nothyng taken from thee that was thine owne, but only the goodes of another required agayne at thy handes when thou mayest occupie them no longer. For honest guestes when they are departyng away, doe willingly restoare

the vessel and stuffe whiche they borowed of their host.

Feare.

Alas, of al my ryches I carie not thus muche away with me.

Reason.

Carie away as much as thou broughtest, or yf thou lust, as muche as any kyng doth.

Feare.

What wyl my young chyldren do?

Reason.

If they lyue, they wyl growe vp and wax olde, and walke their owne wayes, and trye their owne fortune, and passe through their owne troubles: in the meane tyme they shal abide in Gods protection: and perhaps when thou wast young thou liuedst lykewyse without a father.

Of one dying, that is careful what his wyfe wil do when he is dead. The .cxxviii. Dialogue.

FEARE.

WHat wyl my welbeloued wyfe do, when I am dead?

Reason.

Perhaps she wyl marrie agayne: what is that to thee?

Feare.

What wyl my deere wife do?

Reason.

Beyng discharged from thy yoake, eyther she wyl yeelde her necke to another, or liue at large, or els rest herselfe after her wearinesse, & seeke only how to passe foorth her lyfe quietly.

Feare.

What wyl my most louing wyfe do?

Reason.

Doest thou aske what she wyl do when she hath escaped from thee, and knowest not what she dyd when she was vnder thy subiection? The greater sort of mortal men, beyng ignorant what is done at home in their owne houses, hearken what is a dooing in heauen, and the farthest partes of the world. Truely, what shall become of thy wyfe after thy departure, let her selfe or her next husbande looke to that, since that care appertayneth no longer to thee hereafter.

Feare.

I am afeard, lest after my decease my wyfe marrie agayne.

Reason.

Some there be that marrie, their olde husbandes lyuing. Thus dyd Herodias among the Hebrewes, Sophronisba among the Africanes, and Martia and Liuia among the Romanes, although their husbandes con∣sent & commaundement doo excuse these two last recited: & wylt thou onely binde thy wyfe from marriage? Yea, there are but few that lyue faythfully towardes their husbandes, & wilt thou require that thy wife continue her truth to thy cold & senselesse ashes? If she haue liued faythful to thee vnto the last day of thy lyfe, then

hath she accomplyshed the duetie of a true and trustie spouse.

Feare.

I am afeard that my wyfe wyl marrie agayne.

Reason.

That she first married perhaps thou shouldest haue feared more: that belonged to thee, but her second marrying shal apperteyne to another. But this is your common trade, ye contemne the things that ye ought to feare, and feare the thynges that ye ought to con∣temne, esteeming of nothyng iustly as ye ought. Thou en••redst the combat of the married bed without feare, not forethinkyng what danger thou passedst into, and art thou afeard now least an∣other should do the like?

Feare.

I would not, I confesse, haue my wyfe marrie agayne.

Reason.

For a woman of exact & perfecte chastitie, I graunt, although she be permitted by lawe to marrie agayne, yet were it better to abstayne: but most of al to eschue pe∣rilous widowhood. There is moreouer some such tyme & occasi∣on, that a woman is not onely excused, but also enforced to marrie agayne. For it is an hard matter for a fayre woman to lyue alone chastly.

Feare.

My sweete wyfe wyl marrie another husband.

Reason.

There are but fewe women found, yea among them that are counted honest, that euen whyle their present husbande is lyuing, do not determine in their minde who shal be their next. My husband, say they, is a mortal man, and yf he chaunce to dye, shal I marrie next for vertue, or nobilitie, or loue, or eloquence, or bewtie, or person sake?

Feare.

My wife wyl marrie againe.

Reason.

Not thy wyfe verily: for death wyl make that she shal not be thine. And no merueile though it part man and wyfe, whiche dissolueth the bandes whereby the body and soule are knyt togeather.

Feare.

My wyfe wyl marrie agayne.

Reason.

The wyues of the Romane Captaines, and Dukes and Empe∣rours haue also married agayne, and therefore take in good part this fortune whiche is common to thee with thine auncetours.

Feare.

My wyfe wyl marrie agayne.

Reason.

The Ro∣mane Captaynes and Prynces did marrie wyddowes also, & so did the most godly kyng Dauid take to wife two wyddowes, that had been the wyues but of meane persons: and it may so happen that one greater then thou may marrie thy wyfe, vnto whom resigne this carefulnesse, seeing thou go∣est thyther where there is no marrying at all.

Feare.

My sweete wyfe wyl marrie another man.

Reason.

If she marrie a better, reioyce at her prosperity whom thou louedst. But if to a woorse, be glad yet, for that she wyl thinke more often vpon thee, and holde thee more deere. For there be many that haue learned to knowe and loue their first husbandes, onely by their second marriages.

Of one dying, that is careful what wyl become of his countrey after his deceasse. The .cxxix. Dialogue.

FEARE.

WHat shal become of my countrey after my death?

Reason.

All good men haue but one countrey, and all euyl men another: take heede nowe into whiche of these two countries thou wilt be admitted a coun∣treyman. As for a third countrey there is none, but onely an Inne and a place of passage, a thoroughfare.

Feare.

What wyll become of my countrey?

Reason.

That countrey which thou goest vnto, continueth alwayes in one estate: and this whiche thou now forsakest, as I haue oftentymes sayde before, is not thy countrey, but hath rather been thy place of banishment.

Feare.

What wyl my countrey do after my deceasse?

Reason.

This is the peculiar care of kynges, to thynke what wil become of their kyngdomes & dominions after their death: the lyke whereof thou readest there rested in the heart of the great king of Assyria, or of the most mightie emperour of the Romans. This care exceedeth the calling of a priuate person. But since nowe euen at thy very ende thou art so affected, that thou lust to terme that stoarehouse of miserie, and hospital of payne and sorow, wherein thou hast pas∣sed foorth the swyft tyme of thy lyfe, in great trouble, aduersitie, and heauinesse, by the name of thy countrey, and art desirous to knowe what it wyl doo, I wyl tell thee: it wyl do as it dyd, and as other countreyes do. What is that, thou wylt say? It wyl be troublesome, disquiet, dissentious, and studious of innouati∣ons: it wyl followe factions, chainge lordes and gouernours,

alter lawes, and both these many tymes for the woorse, seldome for the better, spurne agaynst the best and most noble subiectes, aduaunce the vnwoorthie, banishe the well deseruing, esteeme of the pillers & poullers of the treasurie, loue flatterers, hate them that speake the trueth, contemne the good, honour the myghtie, woorshyp the enimies of it libertie, persecute the defenders of the Commonwealth, weepe sometyme and laugh without cause, esteeme of golde and precious stones, reiect vertue, and embrace pleasures: these are the manners and state of your Cities and Countreys. There is none but may most assuredly prophecie vn∣to thee of these matters, vnlesse he be such an one as hath alwaies led a rurall lyfe, or entred into Townes with deafe eares, and dimme eyes.

Feare.

What wyll befall vnto my Countrey after my deceasse?

Reason.

Why art thou carefull, and trou∣bled herewith? Whatsoeuer hapneth to thy Countrey, thy house shal be free from burnyng, theeues, and ouerthrowing. Whether the yeere fall out to be pestilent, or els to be deare or plentiful, hot or drye, haylie, snowie, or raynie, frostie, or otherwyse moyst & rot∣ten: yea, the byrdes of the ayre, & wild beastes of the wooddes, the Caterpiller and Chaffer: finally, earthquakes, and raginges of the lea, dearth of victualles, inuasions of enimies, or ciuile warres, none of all these are able to touche, or concerne thee hereafter.

Feare.

O, what shalbe the estate of my Countrey, or to what ende shal it come?

Reason.

To what other, thinkest thou, then that the greatest citie and state that euer was or shalbe is come vnto? to wit, dust, ashes, rubbysh, scattered stones, and a name only rem••yning? I could prooue this to be true by innumerable argu∣mentes, but thou knowest the matter sufficiently. To be short, there is nothing apperteining vnto man that is euerlasting, no worldly thyng permanent, but only the soule of man, which is im∣mortal. Enclosures shal fayle, sowed landes shal decay, buildinges shall fall downe, all thynges shall come to naught, and why art thou greeued and vexed in the minde? If thou be in heauen, thou wylt both dispise this, and all other worldly thynges. But as for them that goe downe into hel, casting of al charitie, it is to be en∣tended that they hate both God and men, and also al the workes of God and man.

Of one that at his death is carefull of his fame and good report. The .Cxxx. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

WHAT wyll men speake of me when I am dead?

Reason.

An vnseasonable care: thou shouldest haue prouided for this in thy youth: for looke what a mans life is, suche is his fame.

Sorowe.

What wyll they say of me?

Reason.

What shall I answeare thee, other then that which the most learned and eloquent Marcus Cicero sayeth? What other men shall speake of thee, let them see to that them selues, but they wyl speake notwithstanding: howbeit, all their talke is comprehended within the narrowe boundes of these regions which thou seest: neyther was it euer continual of any, but is extin∣guished by the death of men, and forgetfulnesse of posteritie.

Sorow.

What wil they speake of me, that shalbe borne herafter?

Reason.

I would tel thee otherwyse then Cicero doeth, yf I thought that any thing could be better vttered then is by him. And what skil∣leth it, sayth he, if thou be spoken of by them that shalbe borne here∣after, seeing there nowe remayneth no fame of them that were borne before thee? One thing he addeth moreouer, which perhaps at that time was doubtful, peraduenture false, but now very sure, & most true without doubt: Who, sayth he, were as many in number as you are now, and truely better men to. For who is he that doubteth, but that there wyl neuer come so good men, as there haue ben? Thus al thinges waxe woorse & woorse, and tend euery day toward their final ruine. A merueilous care then it is which thou hast, to stande in feare of the speeches of those whom thou knowest not, & are thy youngers, as not liuing in y^e same age with thee, seeing thou now contemnest the iudgement and woordes of excellent men of thine owne time, and acquaintance.

Sorow.

What fame shal there be of me when I am dead?

Reason.

Far better then while thou li∣uest, when enuie once holdeth her peace. For enuie and malice sel∣dome last longer then a mans life: and as vertue is the roote of glorie, so is enuie the cutter downe of it: and as the enuious hand being present, hindreth the growth of it, so when it is taken away, it restoreth the encrease of true commendation. And therfore vnto

many, as the entrance into their graues hath been a bar vnto en∣uie, so hath it ben the beginning of great glorie.

Sorow.

Howe long wyl my fame continue?

Reason.

A long time perhaps, as you call long. But that all thinges may not only be long, but also euerlasting, vertue alone is able to bring that to passe, and special∣ly Iustice, of which it is written: The iust man shalbe had in euer∣lasting memorie: Which meaning also your countrey Poet expres∣sed as wel as he could, where he sayth: But by mens deedes their fame to stretch, that priuiledge vertue geues.

Sorow.

What fame shal I haue after my deceasse?

Reason.

What skilleth it what it be, which shortly shalbe forgotten or contemned? What shall the breath of men apperteyne vnto thee, when thou thy selfe shalt be without breath? For one that breatheth to be nourished and de∣lyghted with the winde and ayre, it is no meruaill: but for a dead man to be so, it is a woonder.

Sorowe.

What shalbe sayde of me when I am dead?

Reason.

No goodnesse, be sure, vnlesse thou haue deserued it, but muche euyl peraduenture not merited: and perhappes lytle, or nothyng at all. For in many thynges fame is a lyer, but in the most a true reporter, otherwyse it could not long continue. For trueth is the foundation of continu∣ance, and as for a lye, it is weake and transitorie.

Sorowe.

What fame shall I haue after my death?

Reason.

Suche as thy lyfe was before and at thy death. Concernyng this mat∣ter therefore, let the tyme to come, but specially the tyme pre∣sent looke to that. And thus perswade thy selfe assuredly, that what report and fame a man is woorthy to haue after his death, it is no way better discerned then at his death: when as in deede, which is a strainge thyng to be spoken, many that haue ly∣ued all theyr tyme obscurely and without glorie, death onely hath made famous.

Of one that dyeth without Children. The .Cxxxj. Dialogue.

SOROWE.

I Die without children.

Reason.

For that cause thou oughtest to die the more willingly, and with the more expedition to goe

foorth on thy iourney, for that thou hast nothyng behinde thee, to stay thee or cal thee backe. The greatest greefe which they that lie a dying haue, surceaseth in thee, whiche riseth vpon the sorowe and compassion of leauing their children, specially when they be young & neede the asistance and counsel of their parentes, being at those yeeres destitute of aduice, & subiect vnto iniuries, & many other casualties.

Sorow.

My children, whom I wished & hoped should haue liued after me, are gone before me.

Reason.

Then hast thou some, to whom thou art desirous to goe, & from whom thou art not willing to depart, which is no smal comfort vnto thee.

Sorowe.

Bitter death constraineth me to dye without chyldren.

Reason.

If thou thinke this to be so miserable a matter, what cause hast thou either to die now, or heretofore to haue liued with∣out children, seeing there is such choise of young Gentlemen, & to∣wardly youthes, among whom thou maiest choose and adopt thee sonnes, who perhaps wyl be more louing and obedient vnto thee then thine owne natural children, descended of thy flesh & blood: for they come vnto thee by chaunce, but these are elected out of many by exquisite iudgment? The other were thy children before thou knewest them, but these thou knewest, chosest, and louedst be∣fore thou madest them thy children. And therefore, the one sort of them wil wholy impute it to nature, that they are thy children, but the other to thy special good liking. Whereby it hath hapned ma∣ny times, that the succession by adoption hath ben very fortunate vnto the heyres, in which kind not only meane inheritances, but also whole Empires haue ben committed in trust. Thou knowest howe Iulius Caesar wanting issue, adopted Augustus to be his sonne, & Augustus againe adopted Tyberius almost against his wyl. And likewise afterward, how Nerua adopted Vlp••us Tra∣ianus, and he Elius Hadrianus, & be againe Antonius pius, & he likewise toke vnto him Marcus Aurelius to be his sonne: which Marcus, I would to God he had more happily adopted any other, then vnluckely begotten his sonne Commodus, commodious to none, but discommodiouss to the whole world, the only disgracing of so good a father, & one among a few of them that were no small shame & reproch to the Romane Empire, & also a most apparent argument how much adoption is more fortunate then procreatiō.

For whereas the first princes had in order one after another raig∣ned long time & in happie estate, this man forsaking the sleppes of so many his auncetours & predecessours, hauing defiled the Com∣monwealth with his short and filthy gouernment, or rather tyran∣nie, at last came to a miserable, but for his desartes a woorthy end, the whole contempt & mockerie of the common people being tur∣ned vpon him. But long before al these, Scipio that was the sonne of Scipio Africanus the great, adopted vnto him selfe to the ho∣nour of his familie, the second thunderbolt of the Punike war, and hammer of the citie of Carthage, by special ordinance appointed to that purpose, that y^e same citie which the grandfather had sha∣ken, the nephew should ouerthrow, as Florus the Historician say∣eth, being translated from the stock of Aemilia, into the familie of Cornelia, no small glory, & confesse, and yet the last of them both. Hereby thou seest, that neither thou, nor any Prince can lacke a sonne, or rather that which is best of al, they that are good can not lacke a good choise: which if it please thee to make, perhaps it wil geue thee such an one as thy wife wyl not bring thee the like, & be∣ing losed from the bandes of marriage shalt possesse the desired ef∣fect and end of matrimonie: In such sort doth the law prouide for the defectes of Nature.

Sorow.

How shal I now dispose of my house, since that I die without children?

Reason.

Do not refuse this great occasion of wel deseruing and commendation, which is now, as it were throwen into thy lap: and that which thou deter∣minest to bestowe vpon thy children, who peraduenture would be vnthankful for it, or wickedly hoorde it vp, or els as it is the cu∣stome of either sort of these, to conuert it to vngodly vses, or rather in very short tyme or waste & consume al most prodigally, employ thou more cōmendably, more profitably, & more durably. Attalus that was king of Pergamus, by his testament made the people of Rome his heire, not being poore nor needefull of it, who also were sshortly after corrupted with the wanton wealth of Asia. But I wyl tel thee of another people, to whom thou mayest leaue thy goodes. On the one side of thee standeth a route of thy freendes & kinsfolke, at the other a rabble of poore people, out of both which thou art permitted to adopt chyldren. The one sort of these, when thou art gone, wyll deteyne the sweete remembraunce of thee in

theyr mindes, the other preuent thee with their godly prayers vn∣to the place whyther thou art nowe passing: insomuch as, looke what thou bestowest vpon them here, thou shalt receiue an hundred fold there, which is a large interest, & a most assured prouision for them that are vpon the poynt to passe that way.

Sorow.

I die without a sonne.

Reason.

What if thou haddest many: wouldest thou then chose one of them to be the keeper of thy house and mo∣ney, which shal be thine no longer? Or wouldest thou appoint one of them to be thy Champion in the conflict & pangues of death, beyng hym selfe also mortall? or els to wayte vpon thee to thy graue? for farther none of all thy freendes wyl folowe thee, more then Metellus freendes followed hym. The way is but short from the death bed to the graue: and what skilleth it whether thou lye alone here, or there? These are but friuolous and vaine causes truely, to wysh for sonnes: and yf in them moreouer, as the vul∣gare speeche is, thou hopedst to haue thy name preserued and con∣tinued, thou wast also vulgarly deceiued. For doubtlesse, for the most part suche is the obscurenesse of the children generally to be found, that they are not able to beautifie nor to keepe vp their fa∣thers name. But the rare nobilite of the sonnes, as alwayes it maketh the sonnes them selues honourable, so for neerenesse sake sometyme it couereth and obscureth the parentes, euen as the Sunne doth the lesser Starres: which is in none seene more eui∣dently then in Iulius Caesars father, whom his sonnes bryght∣nesse made almost vnknowen. And to be short, whosoeuer reposeth the trust of his name in his sonne, he putteth a slender and slippe∣rie substance into a rotten and cracked earthen vessell, and which is more foolysh, that is none of his owne: a thyng truely more accounted of among the common multitude, then of the learned, and yet contemned of neyther: Howbeit this hope were more commendably and assuredly layde vp in their sounde and vncor∣ruptible vessels, to wit, in their owne vertue, notable deedes, and learning.

Sorowe.

I dye without chyldren.

Reason.

Thou hast none to diuide thy care vpon, thyne attendaunce is fixed only on thy selfe, so that thou maiest depart with more readi∣nesse and libertie, respectyng thy selfe, and consideryng thine owne estate, how miserable or happie thou shalt die. And further,

thou diest not in an vncertayntie whether thy miserie be augmen∣ted, or felicitie abated by the dishonour or vertue of another. Al∣though some others be of another opinion, to accord with whom I finde my selfe more wyllyng: notwithstandyng it hath seemed true for the most part vnto Philosophers of great skil that the fa∣thers estate concernyng miserie or happinesse, is varied by the e∣uent of the chyldren. Truely it is a weake good thyng that streat∣cheth vnto fortune that shal befal hereafter, and dependeth vpon anothers estate. Whiche opinion if we do admit, what may be concluded thereon thou knowest: for it is out of al doubt, that ma∣ny had departed in more happie estate, if they had dyed without chyldren.

Of one dying, that feareth to be throwne foorth vnburied. The .Cxxxii. Dialogue.

FEARE.

I Shalbe throwen foorth vnburyed.

Reason.

Enuiest thou the birdes, or the beastes, or the fishes? And yf thou be afearde of them, take order that thou mayest haue one appoynted to keepe thee, or a staffe layde by thee to dryue them away from thy carcasse.

Feare.

Thou doest iest at my miserie, for truely I shal feele nothyng.

Reason.

Why then doest thou feare that which thou shalt not feele? If thou couldest feele it thou wouldest lyke wel of it: for to burie one that feeleth, is to kyl him.

Feare.

I shal lye vnburied.

Reason.

If the earth presse not thee, thou shalt presse the earth: & if the earth couer thee not, heauen wyll. Thou knowest the olde saying: Him heauen hides, that hath none other graue. And very wel knowen is this other most common speech also: To lacke a graue is but a slender losse: so slender a losse indeede, that there is none more slender.

Feare.

I shal lye vn∣buried, which is a woful thyng to be spoken.

Reason.

I know not what to be spoken, but truely in effect a very trifle: & beleeue me, it is muche more tollerable for a man to be throwne out of his graue, then to be turned out of his bed, or apparrel.

Feare.

I I shal lye vnburied, whiche is a filthie sight.

Reason.

Filthie perhaps vnto others, but nothing at al vnto thee. It is the gene∣ral opinion of al learned men, and experience also confirmeth no

lesse, that all manner of buriall was deuised not so muche for the dead sake, as for the lyuing. Which to be true, the outward shewe and representation of Tumbes & graues doth euidently declare, whiche within side beyng euyl fauoured and horrible, do enclose their tenaunt within rough and rude rubbish, but on the outside are wrought with great cunning and cost, where the workemen for the most part decke them foorth to the viewe with carued pic∣tures of marble, and statues of golde, and armes beawtifully de∣painted.

Feare.

I shal lye vnburied, which is a loathsome thyng to behold.

Reason.

Hast thou so litle businesse to doo of thine owne, that thou must meddle with other folkes matters? Let them looke to that whom the matter concerneth, as for this loathsomenesse, thou shalt not see it.

Feare.

I shalbe left vnbu∣ryed, whiche is a miserable case.

Reason.

Yea, Pompeius the great as woorthie a personage as he was, lay vnburied: or rather lay not stil, but was ouerwhelmed & tossed with y^e surging waues. Neyther do I thinke thee to be so mad or foolysh, that in thine o∣pinion he should haue been made the more happie if he had been buried: as his companion Marcus Crassus was neuer awhit the more vnfortunate, in that there was none present to cause hym to be enterred. In al other thinges they were almost equal, sauing that Crassus head, as it was most meete for hym y^t was of al men the most rych & couetous, beyng more heauie then gold, was pre∣serued, but neuerthelesse both of them to be contemned & reproch∣fully dealt withal. Vnlesse perhaps their third fellowe be more happie, for that he was set vp to be seene vpon the heade of a most loftie and bewtifull Colossus, ouerlookyng there the toppes of the highest churches and steeples: whom perhaps I may confesse to haue been in warre more fortunate, but in bu∣riall I must needes denye it. So that I may say, that the same stone is bewtified by hym, but made nothyng the hap∣pier. For what happinesse can this be in hym that hath no feelyng, or as a man woulde say, in one stone not couered with another? For yf it were otherwyse, that a graue or Tumbe made a man fortunate, who were more happie then Mausolus?

Feare.

I shal lye vnburyed.

Reason.

Both Paulus Aemilius, and Claudius Marcellus had

lyen vnburied, had not their most deadly enimie dained them of a graue, the rather, as I suppose, in admiration of their vertue, & in respect of his owne honestie, then mooued with any remorse of duetie or conscience, wherof there rested no one iote within that mans hart. In somuche, that I thinke they hated their graues when they were enterred, & yf they might haue had their libertie, would rather haue chosen to haue lyen vnburyed. Cyrus also that was kyng of Persia lay vnburied, & neither that, nor yet his Scy∣thian bottle were any reproch vnto hym at all, but rather their cruel and sauage manners, by meanes of which he susteyned that most foule ignominie, & shameful iniurie. But why do I now ga∣ther togeather so many seueral naked corpses, with Romane em∣perours, and forreine kinges, that were bereaued not onely of the last and wished solemnitie of their graues, but also of the vayne honour belonging thereunto: & farther, which more is, that were torne & plucked in peeces, & throwen about in mammockes, that a man woulde iudge it an enuious matter to haue lyen with an whole carcas: seeing that there are cōuersant in our mindes & me∣mories the miserable massacres of whole nations dead, and as a man may say, the whole worlde vnburyed? For why, with kyng Cyrus of whom I spake erewhile, there were two hundred thousād Persians slayne: and also with Crassus, sixteene most valiant & flourishing legions: & at the ouerthrowe at Cannas, aboue foure∣score & fiue thousand citizens of Rome & their confederates: and sixe & fiftie thousand Carthagiens, Spaniardes, Ligurians, and Frenchmen at the ryuer Metaurus, togeather with their Cap∣tayne: and againe at Aquas Sextias, which is the proper name of the place, two hundred thousand Germanes not farre from the Alpes, Marius beyng General in both places, which were but an hundred & fiftie thousand as some wryters do report, but they that say least of al, not aboue threescore thousand Cimbrians, whiche lay there vnburied. Moreouer, at Philippi the aides of al confe∣derate kinges & nations, and the floure and strength of the Italian youth, as it pleased the maiestie of the goddes so to deale, wanting the honour of burial, made fat the Aemonian fieldes, & filled the paunches of the wylde beastes and carren crowes. What shal I say of the Carthagien fleete that was vtterly destroyed at the

Ilandes Egates? Or of the Massilian nauie that was discomfi∣ted at their owne very hauens mouth, and within the sight of their faythful countrey? And (that I may not euermore dwel in dis∣course of the Italian toyles and miseries) when the whole Athe∣nian power by sea was drowned before the citie of Syracuse, what graue or burial had they? I passeouer in silence Salamina and Marathon, with three hundred thousand Persians whith many. I let passe the conflictes of the Hebrewes, of the Scythi∣ans, and Amazons, the battayles of the Arabians, Parthians and Medes. I ouerslyp the conquestes & slaughters that Alex∣ander king of Macedonie made in the East among the naked & vnarmed people there. I speake nothyng of al such kindes of plagues, whereby it is a woful case to here, how many woorthie & deerelie beloued carcases haue been most pitifully defiled, spoy∣led, and made away. Neyther ouer and besides this, of the incursi∣on of serpentes and wylde beastes, by whose suddeyne inuasion Dicaearchus teacheth, as Cicero reporteth, how that certeyne whole kindreds and nations of people haue been destroyed. Nor of tempestes, and dayly shypwrackes: for as for those that peryshe by fire, there is no man wyl say that they neede any graue. I omit ciuil furies and outrages, and domestical broyles and contentions, of whiche it is sayde: That cyuile warre can scarse graunt a graue to the captaynes: whiche may be muche more truely veryfied of forreine battayles. Neyther stande I vpon the ruines of cities and townes, as namely, Troy, Hierusa∣lem, Carthage, Corinth, Numantia, Saguntum, with ma∣ny other moe, wherein the most part of the citizens being ouer∣throwne by the fall of the walles and buildinges, were buryed with their cuntry. Last of all, I ouerslip earthquakes, by meanes wherof many men that were ouerwhelmed, had the whole wombe of their mother the earth to receiue them in steede of a sepulture. Which being in old tyme, as also of late dayes an ordinarie mischiefe in diuerse places, yet neuer raged any where more notoriously then in Asia, whereas it is reported, that there were twelue cities by horrible gapynges of the earth deuou∣red in one day. These many and great matters haue I to this end••

recited, that I myght take away from thee this ridiculous feare, who dreadest the losse of a graue nore then death is selfe: and takest greeuously that this thy poore carcas shoulde want that, whiche it is manifést so many thousand woorthie men and va∣liant warriours, and which is a more haynous matter, holy Sainctes, haue lacked.

Feare.

The earth is denyed me when I am dead, whiche is a very hard matter.

Reason.

This is not harde, but thou art tender that canst be hurt, and yet feelest no∣thyng.

Feare.

The earth is denyed me when I am dead, whiche is an vnwoorthie thing.

Reason.

Howe so? Art thou then due to the earth, or the earth to thee? Perhaps the earth may be denyed thee, but not thou the earth. Some chaunce peraduenture, or iniurie of the enimie may depriue thee of thy graue: but thou that camest from the earth must needes re∣turne thyther agayne: whiche thing since the Lorde thy God hath forewarned thee of by his owne mouth, cannot be false.

Feare.

The earth shal not couer me in her bosome.

Reason.

But thou shalt couer her with thy nakes body: and what shal this apperteyne more vnto thee after thy death, then it doth at this present, what is become of the paringes of thy nayles, and clypping of thy haire, and the blood that was let out for some feauer or other disease, and also of the pieces of thy chyldrens coates, and infantes mantles, and swadlebandes when thou wast in thy tender yeeres? Hast thou forgotten the gallant answere of Theodorus Cyrenaeus in Tullie: whom when Lysimachus the kyng threatned to hang vp, vpon the galous, as I take it: These terrible thynges, quoth he, threaten vnto thy gorgious courtyers: as for Theodorus, he careth not whether he rotte aloft or vpon the ground. And if the earth receiue thee not into her bosome, yet shal she entertayne thee vpon her face, wheras the grasse shall cloath thee, & the flowers decke thee being glad of suche a guest, and the raine moisten thee, and the sunne burne thee, and the frost freese thee, and the winde mooue thee: and perhaps this is a more natural meane, wherby the body whiche is framed of the foure elementes, may be resoued into so many agayne.

Feare.

I am left vnburyed, whiche is horrible to be heard.

Reason.

This horrour consisteth in opinion, and not in trueth, forasmuch as some haue thought it an horrible matter to be coue∣red with earth, & very faire to be consumed with fire, as we know your a••nce••ours were perswaded. Among s••me it was counted an honourable death, to be torne in peeces by dogges and wylde beastes. Concernyng this poynt there are innumerable customes & manners among nations, which being curiously gathered togea∣ther by Crispus, Cicero hath abridged. Thou shalt lye vpon the bare ground: but another shalbe pressed with a great rough stone, another couered with rotten cloddes, another flit weliring dead in the water, another as he hangeth be driuen with the wind, beaten with the haile, torne by the rauens and crowes: & to be short, they that haue been perfumed with odours, & cloathed with purple the woormes shal consume them. And that more hath he that is co∣uered with marble and gold, ouer him who weeping in the Poet, sayeth: And now the surges drench me, and the windes beate me a∣gaynst the shoare? Although he also, folowing the sway of the com∣mon errour, abhorreth to be couered with earth. Vnlesse perhaps thou do likewyse condescend to fables & olde wiues tales, thinking that the soules of them that lye vnburied do wander an hundred yeeres about the bankes of the hellish lake: which toyes truely a sound & religious minde vtterly reiecteth.

Feare.

I am denied a graue in my natiue soyle.

Reason.

If thou haue a turfe left thee in thy natural countrey, thou art in case, that Phocion, as great a man as he was, may enuie at thee: whom being a citizen of Athenes, & hauing otherwyse deserued thereof then I doubt me thou hast of thy countrey, the vnthankeful citie bannished out of their confines when he was dead: a strainge kinde of crueltie.

Feare.

I shalbe cast foorth vnburied.

Reason.

Se to thyne owne businesse, and leaue this care vnto the lyuing.

FINIS.

Notes

• The auc∣thour spea∣keth of his abhomina∣ble country.