Three [morall] treatises no lesse pleasau[nt] than necessary for all men to read[e,] wherof the one is called the learned prince, the other the fruites of foes, the thyrde the porte of rest.

The fruites of Foes.

BI Plutarks lore of mortal foes, Learne ye y^t list some fruit to take, For fruits inough, he doth disclees Wherof I wil, you partners make

In olde time past, mē only sought, The hurtfull beastes, their foes to kyll, Of other spoyle, they nothyng thought, But so to saue themselues from ill.

But others came then afterwarde, Whose sleight was such, those beastes to slay: As they thereto had small regarde, Except they myght obtaine some pray.

Their fleshe to eate, they vsde therfore, And with their wolle, themselues to cladde, Their milke and galle they kept in store: To heale suche griefes, as sicke men hadde.

And of their hydes, they harnes made, Themselues to arme, on euery syde: That they might aye in safety wade Against all force, that might betyde.

Loe thus by foes, no hurt to take, It did not them at all suffise, Except they might such great gaine make: As they themselues could best deuise.

If thou therfore, without some hate, Here cannot liue in quiet rest: Inuent some way of such debate, To leaue the worst, and take the best.

No tylman can by arte deuise, Eche tree to spoyle, of nature wilde: Nor huntsman eke, be he right wise, Can tame eche beast, that roons in fyelde.

Wherfore they haue right wisely founde, The meane tapply such beast and tree, To other vse, which doth redounde, Vnto their great commoditee.

The water of the sea, we see, Is salte, and hath vpleasante taste: Yet cheifly thence, I say haue wee, The fishe, our foode, which we do waste.

Yea, more then that, thinges of great price, The shipps by sea to vs do brynge, Both pleasant silke, and holsome spice, And many other nedefull thinge.

The brightnes of the flaminge fire, Appearing in the Satirs sight: Straight waies, so kindled his desire. That it timbrace, he toke delight.

Prometheus, then loude can crie, Beware he saide imbrace none suche, For that it hath the propertie: To burne all those, that doth it tuche.

It was not made to colle, and kisse, But heate, and light, alwaies to yelde: The very meane also it is: Whereby craftes men, their artes doe welde.

Hereby therfore, we may perceiue, That of our foe right perilous, In this our lyfe we may receiue, Suche fruites as be commodious.

For though some thynges be very ill, To those, to whom they appertaine, Yet vsde they may be, with suche skyll: As losse shall easily turne to gaine.

As loe for proofe, some sickly corse For easementes sake, sekes quiet rest. VVhere some againe, to win their force, To trauell oft, do thinke it best.

Diogenes and Crates chaunce, Do well declare, how banishmentes And losse of goodes, doe some auaunce To knowledge great, which them contentes.

VVhen Zeno heard, that tempestes gret, In raginge sea, his ship had lost: He mourned not ne yet did fret, But made as though it lytle cost

And thus gan say, to fortune tho, Howe dearely doest thou me entreate: Me thus to force, againe to go, In wysedoms schoole, to fynde a seate.

Some beastes we see, such stomakes haue As serpentes cause full soone disgeast, Both woode and stone, they also craue Suche kynde of foode, them hurteth least.

But some againe, so deinty bene That they oft loth, the finest bredde, And purest wine, that can be sene: VVherwith they myght be alwayes fedde.

Euen so fares fooles, that frendship ioyes, Do aye destroye, but to the wyse: Of hatefull strife and spightfull toyes, Great wealth, and gaine, dothe oft aryse.

VVherefore, me thinkes, where in thy foe Doth seme to geue the greatest grief: Thou mayst thereof, receiue also Muche greater gayne to thy reliefe.

And if thou aske, how that may be, I saye to thee, consider then, What care he hath, thy workes to se, With whom, to whom, what, where, & when.

With Linx his eyes, he doth beholde, Thy lyfe, thy frende, and seruaunte aye, Thy dedes, and thoughtes right manifolde, Thy name to harme, if that he maye.

Thys profyt eke, by foes we haue Our frendes oft tymes, we doe not minde, They may be sick, and layde in graue, Vnwares to vs, lyke men vnkinde.

But of oure foe, both day and night We thinke and dreame, such is our choyse, His grief, or bane, to haue in sight: Which onely doth, our mindes reioyce.

If thou be sick, or much in det, Falne out with wife, with mayde, or man, Yea, no mishap can thee beset: But, it, thy foes, eft sone knowe can.

Lyke rauening birdes, that putryd fleshe, And not the sounde, far of can smell, So they thy illes, to spye be freshe, And all thy griefes, with eye full fell.

What greater gaine may be than this, Hereby to learne, in suche a sort Our life to leade, as none there is: That ill therof may once report.

For as sicke men that wary be, In meates and drinkes, that may offende: In wordes and dedes, euen so doe we Take hede that they the best pretende.

Wherby we come in schole to dwell, Of customes good, and excellent, For reason rules thaffections fell: Wherto our myndes be alwales bent.

Yea, through long time, and exercyse, It bredes in vs, such stedfastnes: That learne we can none other guise, But aye to liue in holynes.

The townes that long haue bene beset, With enmies stout on euery side: Haue derely learnde, by losses gret, To kepe good watche in euery ride.

And eke their lawes and ordinaunce, To execute with iustice aye The humble sort for to aduaunce: The proude to chast, that nyll obay.

Euen so fare those that forced bee, Through spightfull foes, both negligence, And slouthfulnes alwaies to flee Whereby they liue without offence.

For custome shall them bring with spede, To suche a trade of doyng well, That if they goe as reason lede: In errour none, they can long dwell.

VVhen minstrels of one sute and bande In open place doe musicke make: VVithout all feare, and care they stande, And to their play, no hede doe take.

But when their skyll, they doe compare VVith straungers, that professe lyke art: They sharpe their wittes, and haue great care, That euery one may doe his part.

Of instrumentes, and eke of stringes, They seke where they maye haue best choyce, And oft doe proue, how with suche thinges May best agree, both hande and voice.

Euen so it fares with him, whose lyfe And honour bothe, muche spighted is By those that sekes, with hatefull strife Hys thinges to blame that be amis.

Full ware is he in busines, And eke foresees therof the ende, For when we erre: malitiousnes Regardes the foe, more than the frende.

When Carthage was all torne and rent, And Greece subdude, the Romaines thought Themselues full safe, their foes thus shent, They were all gladde, and feared nought.

But Scipio did then repreue, In perill most be we (quoth he) When no foe is, that may vs greue, Whose feare should make vs slouth to fle,

One asked once Diogenes How he might best reuenged bee Of all his ••oes, both more and les, That from all care he mighte be free.

Diogenes right wisely tho To him gan saye, no dent of knife Can greue so much thy cruell fo: As for to see thy perfit lyfe.

What grudge, what griefe, the common sort Conceiues to see, the go odly horse And coursing dogges, which but for sport, To kepe: their ••••es do litle force.

What playntes, what sighthes, & dolfull sownds Their spightfull breastes to heauen do yelde, To see their pleasant garden growndes, Or store of corne to growe in fielde.

How much more then, would they lament, To s••e their foe to be full iuste? In worde and dede, to vertue bent, Of sober life, and free from lust.

And eke to budde out of his brest, That fraighted is, with holynes Such domes, and councels, as are best, To ease eche heart in heauynes.

The tonges of them, that conquerde bee, Are bounde from speache, saith Pindarus: And yet these wordes, as you shall see, To all be not approbrious.

But only do suche men reproue, As nedes must yelde, vnto their foes, In all those vertues, that behoue, A perfit man for to disclose.

For suche thinges faith Dimosthenes Do binde the tonge in torment aye, And stoppes the mouth of them doutles That thinkes more ill, then they dare saye.

Enforce to shewe thy selfe therfore, Sith in thy power it doth consist: Thy lyfe to guide by vertues lore, Their wicked tonges for to resist.

And when thou wouldst faine put thy foe, In great dispaire, take not the waye By haynous wordes, as others doe, His name to persecute I saye.

Ne beastly man, ne filthy foole Doe thou hym call, but rather seke, In suche a sort thy selfe to schoole, That none thy doynges maye misleke.

Be true thy selfe, in woorde and dede Be modest styll, and chast also Shewe curtesy in tyme of nede To suche as haue with thee to do.

And if it shoulde so come to passe, That nedes, thy foe thou must reproue For any fault: yet in that case, See first thy selfe thou doe wel proue.

Examine eke with diligence, Thine inward partes if they be free, From all suche vire and negligence: as in thy foe, thou semste to see.

For els perhaps thou maist geue cause, To some ill tonge, that standes thee by: With voyce full soft, to saye this clause, Recited in a Tragedie.

Beholde I saye this foolishe man, That takes in hande the woundes to cure Of other men: and yet nought can His owne redresse, I you assure.

But if he call thee ignoraunt, Learne wisedome then by industrie Thy faynty heart, if he doe taunt Let stoutnes shew thou wilt not flie.

If he thee checke for lecherie, Auoide eche sparke of filthines, Out of thy breast full spedilie, and learne to liue in holines.

More foule or grieuous nothing is Then for a man suche faultes to checke As all the shame therof ywis Againe shall turne vpon his necke.

For as rebounde of glittering light, The feble sight doth moste offende: Euen so most grieuous is the spight, Which trueth beates back, frō whence it wende.

The mistie cloudes vnto the winde, that blowes Northeast, doe aye resort, The wicked life euen so we fynde To her doth drawe all ill report.

If any man in Platoes sight Had vilye done, straight thence would he, And softly say, may any wight, Such one as he, me force to be?

But when thou haste with wordes of ire Thy foe yprict, for his offence: Beholde thy self, and eke desire Thy lyfe tamende, with diligence.

Of spightfull wordes so shalt thou drawe Muche fruite, to thy greate welth and gaine Though some it thinke, ne right ne lawe, To vse such wordes, of great disdayne.

The common sort, do laughe, and smyle, VVhen any balde or crooked man, Do others taunt, and oft reuyle, For such defectes, as themselues han.

VVhat greater scorne, then woulde it bee, If thou suche faultes shouldst reprehende: As one with worse, might aunswer thee VVhich thou in no wyse couldst defende.

As once, did Leo Bizantine, When one that had a crooked backe, Hym cast in teeth his bleared eyne alas (quoth he) this is no lacke.

A humaine thing this is, I say, But why alas canst not espye: Howe on thy backe thou bearest alway, That goddesse fell, dame Nemesye?

Aduouterer, see none thou call Whilst fouler lust in thee dothe raigne: Ne yet reproue the prodigall, If auarice thy lyfe dothe staine.

Alemeon when he did reuile, Adrastus, king: of kin thou art (Quoth he) vnto that woman vile: Whiche carft with knife, her husbandes hart.

Adrastus then, him aunswerd loe, With that whiche did him touche at quicke Suche beastly wrathe in thee did floe Thy dame to slea ere she were sicke.

When Dyonise did Crassus skorne, For that he wailde, his Lampreys cas, By crewell death, then all forlorne, Whiche in his ponde, long fostred was.

Then Crassus said, rebuke not mee Sith that from thee no teares did fall The death to see, of thy wiues three Nor felst no grief, therby at all.

VVho so delightes to checke or taunt, No rybalde, knaue, or foole must bee: VVith bragging woordes, hymself to vaunt, But rather should from vyce be free.

VVherfore, none semes more bound tobay, Apollos woorde (thine own self know:) Then those that are most prompt alway To rayle, to iest, to mocke, and mowe.

For hap, it may, saith Sophocles, That whilst they taunt, as them likes best: To them again, is said doubtles: That whiche to heare, they couet lest.

In tauntyng thus our foes, we finde No litle fruit, but more we gaine, VVhen they likewise, with wordes vnkinde, Our faultes to taunt, do not refraine.

Anthistines said well therfore, That lyfe, in safety to encloes Man ought to haue alwaies in store: Right perfit frendes, or bitter foes.

For faithfull frendes wyll vs reforme VVhen that we erre: our foes againe VVyll so muche rayle, a••d out of forme, That nedes from vyce, we must abstaine.

But syth that now true frendship is Of free speche spoylde, and flattry bent To chatte, and prate of thynges amysse Good counsels eke must nedes all stent.

And therefore nothing now remaines For vs to doe: but to abide, The trueth to heare, to our great paynes, By spightfull foes, that nought wyll hyde.

When Telephus his festred wounde Could no wise heale: with thenmies speare VVhich first him hurt louelyfe, him bound, To launce thesame without all feare.

Euen so must they of force agree To byde reprofe of spightful foes: VVhere wanteth frendes their faultes to see, And frankly wyll thesame disclose.

Nor in this case, we should behold Our foes intent, when they so rayle, But if such thinges as they haue tolde, Be true in vs, or els doe fayle.

Prothemeus of Thessalie A grieuous sore had in his breast: Whiche one that was his enemie, Did cure by chaunce againste his heast.

For when he thought to haue him slain, By dent of sword he brake the sore, Which festred was to his great pain, And so hym helde for euermore.

Euen so full oft it comes to passe, That wordes yspoke for ill intent, Do greatly helpe, some one that was His fault tamend: ful negligent.

But most men when they are reuilde Haue no regarde, if with such vice, As is them tolde, they be defilde: But sekes reuenge, by lyke aduice.

VVhere reason would that suche as are By foes rebukte, for their offence: Should afterward thereof beware, And seke redresse with diligence.

Yea, more then that, without desart, Though they vs check, for any thing: To seke yet then, it is our part, The cause wherof the same did spring.

And eke to feare lest eare we thought, VVe haue the same or such lyke don For one suspect, hath many brought To shame, and great derision.

As thargiue kyng sir Lacydes, Because he was so nice of gate And eke his heere would finely dresse VVith finger aye, was poynted ate.

And cald a man effeminat, The lyke to Pompey dyd befall, For that he vsde his hedde to scrat: VVhen he no hurt, dyd thinke at all.

For none did more then he, despyse Such wanton lust and tendernes, VVho aye was bent to enterprise: Thynges great of weight and hardines.

So Crassus eke to tell you plaine, Suspected was through suche lyke tale, For that he did as some men fayne, Frequent full oft, a maide vestale.

And yet in dede his connyng nas, For any hurt or ill intent: But cer••ain land to hye, in cas, He could obtayne her free concent,

Posthumia through mirth and playe, And hauntyng oft without respect Mens company, her name I saye VVith infamy dyd sore infect.

For whiche she cited was tappere, As one that had in lecherie: Abusde her selfe, with kinsfolkes nere: And yet she dyd no villany.

VVhom though that Spurius, whiche hight Manutius, then bishop hye, Of that ill fame, did cleane acquight, He warnde her yet thus fatherly.

Posthumia, sith that thou haste, In holy workes, thy lyfe aye ledde, Lest wanton talke, thy name may waste I counsell thee haue lykewyse dredde.

Themistocles, none ill had wrought, VVhen he so often letters sent: To Pawsanye, yet some folkes thought To traye the realme, was his intent.

If any man thee charge therefore, VVith thynges vntrue in euery part, Be negligent no whit the more, Nor lightly let them from thee start.

But take good hede, lest thou or thyne, Hath geuen some cause, of suche ill fame, VVhiche once founde out, thy selfe enclyne, To learne, thencefoorth to flee thesame.

For such ill happes as comes vnwares Do oft times teache, what is for vs, Most mete to doe, in such lyke cares, As Merop saith in writing thus.

VVhen fortune did me cleane depriue Of that, whiche I estemed most: To muche more wit I did arriue Albeit full dere it did me cost.

By maisters then of cheaper price VVhiche be our foes, why should we steke In thynges vnknowen to take aduyce, VVhiche with such cost we sometyme seke.

For they in vs doe knowe and see A thousande thynges, whiche frendes reiect, Because by loue they blinded bee, VVhere foes are full of great respect.

When Hierons foe did hym reproue, For that his breth did sauer ill: Then to his wife, and best beloue, With spede went he to chide his fill.

And sayde to her, why hast thou not, To me declarde this fault of myne? Because (quoth she) I thought god wot, That all mens brethes had bene as thine.

Thus may you see, that frendes most deare Our faultes nought can, so soone out fynde As foes that aye, both farre and neare: Fayles not to kepe suche thynges in mynde.

One vertue more, and that full goode By foes also we maye obtayne: VVhiche is, our tonges in angry moode, By reasons bytte for to refraine.

For vertues such wyll not be hadde, Except we learne in tyme to tame, Our fierce affectes, and rageing madde, VVherby oftimes, we come to shame.

As loe, beholde, the wrathfull man, For lacke of wyt and temperaunce, His foolish woordes, to stay nought can: VVhereof doth spring muche variaunce.

This fault therfore, as Plato sayes, Both god and man, dothe chast doubtles: For that the rest at all assayes, It doth excede in peuishnes.

But silence is, without all harme, And tonges to heare, that lewdly raue With stoutnes such, it selfe doth arme: As Socrates was wont to haue.

Yea rather more as Hercules For as they say, no wordes of spight, Coulde once offende his hardines: But as a flye them wayde so lyght.

What thynge therefore more graue may be, Then styll to be, whilst foes do rayle, As when we woulde take hede to fle: Some fearefull rocke, wherby we sayle

Besydes all this, thou shalt thus leare, Thy brawlynge wyfe, and chydinge frend Thy brothers faultes with ease to beare, Howe muche soeuer they offend.

I only speake of these, I say, Because I do my selfe assure, Thy parentes woordes and stripes alway, Without all grudge thou wilt endure.

For what intent dyd Socrates His frowarde wyfe, Zantip by name At home retayne, but patientnes To learne: abrode to vse the same.

Muche better wert suche pacience To learne by suffryng aye thy foe: Whose spightfull woordes with ill pretence Do count as wynde, and let them goe.

In enmitie, thus you may see, That pacience mylde hath greatest grace But frendship sekes simplicitee And frendly dedes doth most embrace

Nor it deserues so great a prayse Thy faithfull frende to gratefie: As it is foule when nede assayes Of frendly helpe, hym to denye.

Our foes offence if we set lyght, When iust reuenge in vs doth lye: It demed is in eche mans sight A dede, whiche doth our vertue trye.

But most renowne to him is due, Who, as his owne, his foes disgrace With wofull heart doth wayle and rue, And hym to helpe doth hast a pace.

And eke his prompt to doe no lesse When that he seeth his wife or chylde, His man or maide in great distresse And praying ayde with woordes full mylde.

For stony heartes haue they ywis That would not praise so great a grace: And thinke him worthy all mens blisse, That mercy suche wyll than embrace.

VVhen Cesar made the Pictures faire, Of Pompey to be set againe, That downe were caste out of their chayre, Muche praise thereby he did than gayne.

For Tully sayde, O worthy wight, By tendring thus, thy foes renowne Thou haste thyne owne, so well yplight: As neuer power shall throwe it downe.

VVherefore I say thy mortall foe VVhich doth deserue to haue great lande Depriue thou not vniustly tho: By spyghtfull meanes, or wicked fraude.

Sythe that the more thou doest him prayse, The greater prayse thou shalt obtayne, Besides beliefe, when to dyspraise Thou shalt disposed be agayne.

For no man than, wyll iudge or deme, That thou doest hate his personage: But rather as doth best beseme, Dost hate his vice, and yll vsage.

The best yet is, that by this way Non enuye shall in vs remayne: Ne shall we grudge to heare men say Our frende to be full iust and playne.

Or all men els texcell and passe, In this or that good qualite, Wherat the spightfull hearte alas, Woulde freat, and ryght sore moued be.

What vertue than more profitable Or goodly, may our myndes retayne Than this, wherby, we be made hable: To purge the venome of disdayne.

In common weales, some ill decrees, Ill custome doth so well approue That thoughe therby some lose their fees: Yet none with ease maye them remoue.

In enmite lykewyse we see Be many faultes, as hatefull spight, Of others grieues right gladde to bee Besides suspect both daye and night.

The callinge eke of wronges to minde, And many other hurtfull vyce, As frawde, and guyle, and meanes to finde, To traytours traynes our foe tentyce.

Which thinges full oft to vse with foes We take it as none ill doutles: And whilst our mindes we so dispose, Our faultes remaine without redresse.

For if we neuer vse tabstaine, Against our foes such partes to play: Ill custome shall vs eke constrayne, Our frendes to dresse in like aray.

Pithagoras did men denye, To hunt, to hawke, or birde to slea And fishe in net would often bye, To cast againe into the sea.

No bruit beast eke, of gentle race Would he haue slayne in any wise Lest fierce affectes we should imbrace Through such a cruell exercise.

More goodly, yet it were to flee Such euill affectes throughe sufferaunce And shewing oft our selues to bee Right iust to foes in variaunce.

So shall we vse no kynde of guyle Ne fraude with frendes in their affares But shall be playne and thinke it vyle One worde vnkinde, to speake vnwares.

When Scaurus at the lawe did sewe, Domitius his mortall foe: Domitius a slaue vntrewe, Had then with him that fled him fro.

Whiche slaue forthwith to Scaurus went, His maysters secretes, to disclose, But Scaurus seeyng his intent: His eares full fast, dyd stop and close.

And nought would heare against his foe, By suche a wretche, as woulde hym tray, Yea, more he bound hym fast also: And home agayne hym sent straight way.

VVhen Cato lykewyse matter sought Against Muren to fortefie Thaccusement late before hym brought, He nothyng dyd maliciously.

For suche as after hym dyd goe, (As was the wont) to heare and see: If that selfe day, dyd aske hym tho, The matter shoulde discussed be:

To whom when he had once sayde nay, They by and by did all depart, And thought it true whiche he did say, Suche faith of hym was in their hart.

But Simond saith, as euery larke, Of force must haue his coppid creast: So natures gifte, yf ye well marke, Some spight doth brede, in eche mans breast.

For whiche emongest light frendes, it were Right good, as Pyndar doth suppose: Of ill affectes, our myndes to cleare by powring them into our foes.

And as a sinke our foes temploy Our filthy faultes to kepe in store, The stenche wherof might els annoy Our faithfull frendes, and grieue them sore.

In Syo sprang one tyme suche strife That all the towne in factions twaine Deuyded was: then was in lyfe, Onomadem, a man full playne.

And curteous eke to euery wight, VVho chaunced on that side to be That wan the fielde by force of fight, To whom he gaue this counsell free.

Expell not all (quoth he) your dede That did resist: but some retayne, Lest lacke of foes, may hatred brede, Emongst our selues, vnto our payne.

Hesiode sayth, wheras lyke arte Nigh neighbored, or kyndred is The good successe of eyther parte, Eche one tenuye it wer amisse.

But yf you can none other waye From spight abstayne, accustome than The welthy state and good araye Of those your foes, to curse and ban.

For lyke as gardeners good of skyll, The garlyke stronge: by rosis soote Do vse to set, all sauors yll, From them to drawe, euen from the roote.

Our foes euen so that do receiue Our frowarde faultes, our mindes full fell Doe ridde of griefe, whiche we conceyue, To se our frendes to prospere well.

With foes therfore we should than striue, For honor, rule, and true got gayne, And not to freat when that they thryue, Or more than we, do chaunce tattaine.

Ye rather more we should obserue Their doinges all in euery case, And howe they did such thinges deserue, That learne we might them how to passe.

Themistocles was wont to tell He could not slepe for thinking on The victorie, that whylome fell Milthiad to, in Marathon.

It is a slouthfull grudge and hate, The vertues of thy foes to spight: And none of them to imitate Because thou thinkest they passe thy might.

But where as hate thy iudgemente clere Corrupteth not his diligence: And industrie doth then appere, Which driues away thy negligence.

But if he seme in Prynces hall, Or common weale, right hygh estate To haue hym got by seruice thrall Or flattring meanes, reioyce thereat.

And thinke thy selfe an happy wight, For that thou mayst thy honest lyfe: Compare with his in all mens sight And win great praise withouten strife.

For Plato saith, no golde on earth Or vnder earth, ne precious ston: One sparke of vertue can be worth, Whiche passeth all comparison.

Ne Solon eke, would chaunge his state In vertue fixt for vain renowne Ne did he care to be check mate VVith noble men in euery towne.

He stemed not the peoples prayse Whose wandryng wyttes are lyke the wynde Nowe heare nowe there at all assayse Their yea, with nay, full sone tonbynde.

No worthy state that semes to bee, Can worthy be, in verye dede Except the meanes therto perdee Of worthy actes dyd first procede.

But lyke as loue, doth louers blynde Euen so we spye, the faultes of foes Much farther of, than we can fynde The faultes of frendes before our noes

Reioyce not than with ioye in vayne Because thy foe doth chaunce toffende, Ne take no griefe without some gaine, To se what good his workes pretende.

But ponder well these cases twayne, His vice and vertues both I say And first his vyce from vyce tabstaine And therin passe him farre away.

His vertues than thou shalt doe well To imitate in their degree: And though thou canst not hym excell Yet see thou be not worse than hee.

Finis.

Notes

• Nemesis Godd••sse r••uenge.