De contemptu mundi.  
The despising of the world, compiled in latin by Erasmus Rot. and translated in to english by Thomas Paynell, Cannon of Marten abbey.   

To the most high/ most virtuous/ and most excellent princess/ the most noble queen Marry dowager of France/ daughter and sister unto the most victorious kings of England and of France/ your humble orator Thomas Paynel prayeth good health and prosperity.  
IN time passed princess most excellent/ religion was nat only a thing highly esteemed/ but also had in right great honour and reverence/ and nat despised and little set by/ as it is now a days: but they that so do/ either be such as can nat be content to live straightly and hardly themself/ for so they repute a religious and a good life/ or else they be such as be slyden and fallen a side from the right believe. But yet there is none be he never so delicately given to pleasure/ or swerved so far wide from the true believe/ that can so maliciously blame or bark against religion: but that he shall find an hundred again/ that were nat only virtuous and perfect good men/ but also most excellently learned/ the which do highly magnify and praise religion/ ye and with long eloquent orations and pistils they exhort and steer the doulce delicate fellows of the world/ that be ignorant/ what a sweet/ what a quiet/ and what a holy life is led in religion/ to come there unto. Than who is he that would believe one or two frantic fools/ rather than a thousand of wise/ sad/ sober/ prudent/ and perfect good livers? I have thought many times/ what name should be most convenient for these foolish and mad fellows/ that go about to dispraise religion (if they be worthy to have any name at all). For true religion is the very way to salvation. And except religion/ what property shall ye find in man kind/ but that ye shall commonly find the same in beasts? Therefore they be very brute/ and may well be called beasts/ that set nought by religion/ and unreverently dispraise it. And what though some lewd persons/ led by lust and riot/ set naught by religion/ yet it is never the worse/ nor there is none that is well disposed & that hath any wisdom or understanding/ that will bear ever the less love & affection thereunto/ for any man's malignity. But yet to th'intent that such wicked and foolish fellows should nat abash or afraye the courages and good minds/ that they bear unto religion/ the which as yet be but rude, and have no groundly knowledge or understanding/ how good and how requisite it is for man's soul health: some time the most noble and excellent clerks (as I said before) indite erudite orations & eloquent exhortations/ to open and declare the high goodness of religion: as Erasmus hath done in this little book following/ the which book translated by me in to english/ I was so bold to dedicate to your grace princess most excellent/ as to the very patroness and favourer of holy religion.  
For all though ye be a queen/ and have always kept a state of a princess most high/ shining in glory and riches/ and thereto furnished with all most honourable pleasures & delights/ belonging to nobility/ yet have you been always most virtuous, devout, and charitable. The which great piety & godly mind enforced me to dedicate this small book to your grace: humbly desiring your excellent majesty to accept this my rudeness: And I shall daily pray: God increase your grace/ virtue/ and honour. Amen.   

Erasmus Roterodamus unto the reder sendeth greeting.  
I Have many times complained most gentle reader/ that I was aggrieved with the love and favour of my friends/ the which (nat with standing that I am a live, and command the contrary) do vulgate and put forth abroad such trifils as I wrote when I was young to exercise my style, nat thinking that they should be spread abroad and common for every man to have: wherein I am so much more unhappy/ that they be spread and come forth in this most happy time and season, where, if they had come to light when they were first compiled and made, they should nat have been so much subject to men's dispreyses and derisions. Now they be red/ as they were made of an aged man/ the which I compiled when I was young/ nat for that intent: and they be red in this time/ which hath divers men of excellent learning & great understanding. Whilom when I was scantly twenty years of age/ at the desire & instance of a certain man called Theodorike/ the which yet liveth/ I wrote a pystill/ by the which his intent was to call his nephew joice to the fellowship of his life. To this pistill often times copied and spread all about/ they have put my name/ where as I have no nephew that is called joice. I wrote it for an other man's intent and purpose: And as itself doth openly express/ I wrote it negligently for my pass time/ using no study nor exquisite arguments: nor also to I was nat than instructed in reading of good auctors. And openly they threatened to put it in print/ except that I would cause it to be printed. So I red it over/ and when I had changed a few words/ I was content it should be printed. Thus I suppose it will come to pass at length/ that I shall forego the love that I have to the foolishness and tryfyls of my youth. Far well good reder/ and if thou read it/ read it with forgiveness/ & so read it/ as written for an other man's intent and purpose.   

¶ Theodorike Harleme to joice his most cunning nephew/ sendeth greeting.  
CErtainly my most dear and well-beloved joice/ I have had of long time/ a right great desire to write unto thee: but hitherto I have kept silence/ more for shamefastness than negligence: for I dread least when I prepared myself/ I that am nat much elder than thou/ but in other things far under thee/ to exhort the that art a man of singular prudence and erudition/ should be seen and reputed to take in hand/ a labour that needed nat/ as one would cast water in to the see: not for that I have any doubt/ that thou (which art so exceeding good and gentle) wouldest nat after the best manner accept mine exhortation/ but least I should seem to take upon me the office of an immodest or an unshamefast person/ to presume to give the admonition/ where it were more convenient that I should be exhorted and monished of the. Therefore what shall I do? Shall I write or no? Shamefastenes forbiddeth me to write: but than on the other side/ the love that I bear to the joice will nat suffer it. Shall my mind than be evermore in doubt and wavering? Love on the tone part counseleth me to write/ and shamefastness on the other side moveth me to the contrary. And there is well near nothing more grievous or painful than a doubtful mind. But at the last/ it that of right ought to overcome shall have place? Shamefastness shall obey unto love. For I should rather esteem thy profit/ yea thy soul health/ than what men will say by me. If that this mine enterprise shall be more applied to pride than wisdom/ truly mine offence should so much the sooner be forgiven/ in as moche as it proceedeth of love. For undoubted/ I had leaver writing lovingly/ do boldly/ than wisely keeping silence/ to do more wisely. Nor I doubt not, but by this patron and advocate (I mean our love) I shallbe absolved and quited. For our love is nat simple or of the common sort/ but very entire/ trusty and sure. The causes of our two friendship be right great and manifold: our bringing up together of children/ the marvelous agreement of our two minds/ one manner of study in most noble sciences/ the innumerable pleasures that thou haste done for me/ the singular benevolence and special good mind of the and of thine born alway toward me. And also to these causes/ is joined alliance of blood. What thing can be more gluing or clasping than this our petition/ the which as it were with a double chain/ is bound and knit fast together/ on the one side with kindred/ and on the other side with fixed charity or entirely loving minds. Therefore joice I would thou shouldest think and surely trust that never man loved himself more heartily than I love thee. And seeing that I love the as much as myself or more/ I must needs care as much for thy soul health as for mine own. Yea and true love constraineth us (I wot nat by what mean) to sorrow more grievously our friends incommodity and hurt than our own/ and more to desire our friends welfare than our own. And briefly to speak/ true love causeth one man to love an other more tenderly than himself. Which thing in the I need nat to mistrust/ but on my part I may surely affirm it. This thing hath so much enbolded and encouraged me/ that I laid shamefastness apart for the time/ and wrote unto the this letter of exortation/ by the which my mind is to withdraw the from the/ and business of the world/ and bring the to a life monastycke/ that is to say/ solitary and quiet. This is no small thing/ nor a thing that may soon be persuaded to the common people: but because thy life is of such perfytenes all ready/ that except the habit or clothing of a lay man (whereof I am very glad) the world well near can challenge no property in the. I fully trust that this mine exhortation shall take effect/ seeing that both the courage of thy passing good mind and my oration lead the to the same thing. Who would doubt that ship to sail pleasantly/ that hath both wind and wether at will: And all be it that thy good and commendable life steereth me to hope well/ yet shall I never be out of fear and dread/ until such time that thou clean forsake this unhappy & britel world: and enter in to some Monastery/ as in to an haven most sure. For trust me/ as often as I revolve and consider in my mind the perils and dangers, among the which thou art conversant (Whereupon I think well near alway) so oft the tender love that I bear to the ward/ maketh me very heavy and sorrowful. For I am none other wise affectioned or minded toward thee/ than a good kind mother is to her only and most dear child/ the which is on the see sailing by some dangerous place/ where as ships often times go to wrack and perish/ Which when she seeth or heareth the violent hurl wind rise ruggedly aloft/ she waileth/ she waxeth pale/ and trembleth for dread: In her sleep her mind rounneth/ and she dreameth of her son: and ever she dreadeth the worst/ and more than is true or need to be feared. But would to god that I needed nat to dread less perils than be. But I know/ I know good joice/ what troubles be in the see of this world/ in what danger the life standeth/ and what divers kinds of death there be: out of the which but late swimming naked on a little board/ uneath I escaped. But peradventure thou being in a foolish surety of thyself/ and calling me timorous or fearful/ wilt bid me to be careless: but yet if thou so do, thou canst nat drive fear out of my mind: for thou art so far wide to draw me from dread/ that thou almost bringest all my hope to nought. truly thou art so much the more in the danger of perils/ in how moche less that thou perceivest them: or if thou dost understand and perceive them/ and wilt nat beware and eschew them/ what thing can be more myschiefull or more mad than such a confidence. I pray the tell me/ who is more foolish than that shipman/ the which among the spuminge or foaming rocks/ the furious syrtes/ the raging gulfs of the see/ in a great and hideous tempest/ and thereto his ship feeble and weak/ doth fear no manner peril/ but dying up right by the helm he singeth/ yea/ and forbiddeth those that sail with him under his tuition/ to be afraid or careful? What man will nat abhor the folly and madness of such a fellow/ and dread to scape safely? Nor I good joice/ shall never be rid of care so long as thou foolehardely dost sail forth in this most unquiet see of the world. Thou wilt peradventure say/ this is a foolish comparison: How doth the world and the see agree/ saying that nothing is more blandyshing or fawning than the world/ and nothing is more horrible than the see? Yea but I know no fitter comparison/ if thou consider it well. thinkest thou that the ill melody and sweet honygalle tunes of the Sirens/ the which bring the passagers forbye first in a slumber/ and after drown them: doth nat well express the shrewd blandishing/ and lewd delights of this world? would to god thou couldst see what snares/ what desceytes'/ & what nets/ they lay privily to attrape thy youth with. Look therefore that thou fly from the banks or see coasts where these Sirens be. For flight in this behalf is the surest way. Nor thou shouldest nat folehardely trust to sail sure and safely that way/ where as thou seest king david/ Solomon/ and many other/ and nobler than are to be spoken of here/ went to wrack. And briefly to speak: no man scaped but he that fled. Homer rehearseth that Ulyxes/ the which representeth the person of a perfect wise man/ with great study and diligence could scarcely scape the sweet honygalle song of these Sirens/ & yet he stopped his ears with wax/ and bound himself to the ship mast. Than what hope haste thou to escape them? saying that so many have conspired together to destroy thee/ as wanton youth/ enticing beautifulness/ riches licence/ liberty/ the daily and nightly ditties of these (Helas) to sweet monsters. Nor I think nat/ but that these high appearing sharp rocks/ I mean the highness of secular dignities/ are as much to be dread of thee: among the which if thou be driven by any cool of wind/ thou shalt think it goth with the right well/ if swimming on a small board/ the storm cast the on land in some unknown place. What thinkest thou by the unsatiable devowring Carybdes? the which/ as good authors rehearse/ when a ship swiftly sailing cometh within the danger thereof/ is wont to resist/ and oftentimes to whirl it about/ and swallow in the same ship. Is this an unlikely figure and comparison unto covetousness? the which turneth a man's mind to unsatiable desire/ and will nat suffer him in quiet/ until it hath drowned him in hell. And by the furious Syrtes thou mayst understand the insuperable motion of anger/ and the more the same offence is/ the more copious or abundant the matter thereof is. Do nat the winds plainly express as well the pestilent words of flatterers as of detractors and backbiters? and though it forceth nat from whence these winds blow/ yet they are ever to be feared. For if thou be driven among the craggy rough rocks/ whether it be by winds of prosperity or adversity/ yet never the less thou shalt be driven upon Syrtes. And what supposest thou by the terrible alterations and surgynges of the wawes/ some time rising up as high as the stars/ and an one falling down in to themself again. How conveniently do they signify the mutability and varyablenesse of fortune? Wherewith a broken mind is for the more part brought out of patience/ for he that was now rich and in high prosperity/ can nat bear patiently sudden calamity. I over pass here the tempests and storms/ I speak nat of the nights errors/ nor of the deceivable planets: Nor I rehearse nat the manifold/ and divers kinds of monsters/ the which are bred and nourished in the see/ these thou shalt by thine own wisdom call unto thy mind/ and more better interpretate what they mean. Nor thou shouldest nat trust the see when it seemeth smooth and calm/ nor when the clear glassy storms be suaged and laid/ nor when the air is fair and clear: for all this is done to th'end that the sudden tempest might find the unprovided and a sleep. And therefore I doubt greatly/ whether there be any thing more contrary/ more hurtful/ or more foe unto virtue than prosperity. For as scripture doth witness. calamity & misfortune breaketh many a one: but good fortune and prosperity dissolveth or mollifieth many more. Therefore be thou wise and well ware/ and trust nat the smiling world: lest when thy ship is run to wrack and broken (which god forbid) I should be fain to lament the with these verses of the poet.  
O Palynure, O governor and chief guide  
Of Aeneas ship, wherein that prince did sail  
For all thy great cunning, thou couldst nat prevyde  
The danger of the see, that the did assail  
The casting of thy compass did little prevail  
trusting to moche calm wedder and fair skies  
Upon the see sand, deed naked when thou lies.   

Of the dangerous dwelling in the world. The ii Chap.  
SEest thou nat most gentle joice what great perils environ & compass the about on every side? To whom the very tranquillity or quiet hit self is dangerous? What trowest thou so to over come & withstand these perils/ that thou shalt on no part take hurt or have mishap/ namely in thy youth/ which of his own braid without any other enticement doth incline to sin and ill disposition? But thou wilt say thus. I hope to do well. Thou mayst hope & trust well/ and I also hope well: but I fear me least we both shall hope in vain. Therefore I would thou shouldst make this our hope to be some what more surer. But I lightly conject/ what thou wilt think and mutter/ when thou readest these my words. Be these things in so great safety. Shall religious men only be saved and all other perish? No forsooth. For I deny nat/ but there have been many living in this world that be saved. Nor they that enter in to a monastery of religion/ do nat forth with settle themself so/ that they may safely live clean without care. But yet notwithstanding/ there is as great difference between these two manner of livings/ as is between him that lieth at road in the haven/ though he hath nat yet bowed his anchors: and him that yet saileth aloft in the main see. Or else between him that swymmethe in the water/ and him that iourneth by land. He perisheth nat that remaineth in the world/ but he is more near unto peril. Therefore good joice/ saying that I would the so much good/ ye and peradventure desire more thy welfare than thou dost thyself/ look that thou eschew all perils/ and put thyself in safeguard. For the wise man saith: He that loveth peril shall perish therein. I pray thee/ what need hast thou to be tossed with the raging wawes of water/ when thy way lieth more sure and commodiously by land? who (but he that is stark blind/ seethe nat/ that it is far more surer/ more pleasant/ and more commodious to journey through the pleasant green meadows without dread/ than among so many images of death to be turned & went with perpetual vexation & trouble? Is nat this a great blindness/ that we delight in our adversity/ and as Uyrgyll saith/ to take pleasure to give ourself to foolish and mad labour?  

¶ what sport, what pleasure, or what solatious rest  
Is in these worldly wawes, to be tossed and cast  
wherefore approach the hither, & thou shalt find it best  
For here is the fresh time of Vere that doth last  
Here be christallyne rivers environ compassed  
The soil & ground, enbroudred with sweet flowers  
Here groweth the people tree, to shadow us from spoures   

within these dens delectable, of fresh pypling cold  
Under these wines here, enclustred with grapes  
There be sovereign shadows, from storms us to withhold  
Draw hither, & renofice these worldly trifling japes  
And set the wild wawes worlre, that betes & grates  
Upon the rough rocks, of worldly pomp and pride  
Here be fresh fountains, that spring on every side   

Here be the sweet meadows, with grass enuerdred green  
orchards and greavess, with trees of divers fruit  
with herbs to rest in, and alleys kept clean  
Like to Paradyse of pleasure to take our refute  
Of solace incomparable, this place I repute  
Here might I find in mine heart with the to endure  
From all worldly danger, for here are we sure.   
IT hath pleased me with this Virgil's ditty to allure the away from worldly troubles to our delectable life. But I wot nat with what iougglynges the lewd smiling show of this world hath bewitched the eyes of thy mind/ & stayeth and sticketh fast to thy mind as though it were glued. And forth with the same fair painted face of world things cometh to thy remembrance/ and with smiling calleth the back again/ when thou art about to leave them saying? what wilt thou do mad man? Goest thou about to destroy both thyself & thine? O cruel person/ wilt thou forsake us after this manner? wilt thou despise thy loving fellows and friends? Hast thou no pite on thy father and mother? In what case thinkest thou that she shallbe/ the which heartily loveth thee/ and that for thy love destroyeth herself/ and that desireth the to her spouse and husband? Advise the well what thou wilt do? For this thy cendre youth and beauty are more convenient for other things. And thou art to soft and delicate of Nature to take on the and perform an hard religion. Ah wilt thou suffer the flower of thy youth so unworthily to fade away? Wilt thou solitary alone still wailing spend away thy lusty youth? Thou shouldest leave that to them that be aged/ unto whom now the life is no longer sweet. Thou art a young man/ what thing else shouldest thou do but sport and play? At least wise consider/ what abundance of richesse thou haste all ready/ and moche more is coming/ if thou wilt tarry and abide it. Thou art now right honourable/ and yet thou shalt be higher in honour if thou slynke nat away from us. These be the things that all men seek fore: and thou alone forsakest them: when they be all ready sought out and got to thy hand. But wilt thou go thy way and never return again to take fruition of these joys/ richesse/ commodities/ and profits? Yet at the lest I pray the tarry a while/ take a breath in the matter: for hastiness is cause of moche hurt and inconvenience. Haste thou hard these exhortations? Hast thou hard them? These be the very voices of the Sirens: but as thou lovest thy health/ look that thou listen nor give none hearing to them. Show thyself to be Ulyxes: They will bewytche thy mind if thou hearken to them: They be such fair flatterers/ that they will move and persuade stony hearts: But thou oughtest to remember/ that they be deed voices and lead one to everlasting damnation. But hither to religion thou shouldest hearken/ hither thou shouldest look/ hither thou shouldest incline thy mind: endeavour thyself with all thy might/ employ heron sharply thy wit/ deceive nat thyself/ look to the bottum of the matter/ and thou shalt see/ if thou be nat blind/ how stinking/ how frustrate or void/ ye and how unworthy for the these things be/ that will nat suffer the to leave them?   

The despising of riches The three chapter.  
WHat thing of so great a valour doth this world promise to thee/ that for the love thereof thou wilt put thy soul health in adventure/ and absent thyself from our delectations? What I say doth it promise thee? Is it abundance of riches? For that is it that mortal folks most specially desire: But for a truth there is nothing more miserable/ more vain or deceivable/ more noyous or hurtful than worldly goods. The worldly goods are the very masters and ministers of all misgovernance and mischief. Nor holy scripture doth nat with out a cause call covetousness the rote of all evil. For thereof springeth an ungracious affection unto goods/ thereof injuries or wrongs have their beginning: thereof groweth cedition or part taking: thereof cometh stealing/ pilling/ sacrilege/ extortion/ and robbing. richesse engender and bring forth incest and adultery/ richesse nourisheth and fostreth up ravyshementes/ mad loves/ and superfluite. And finally what is it/ that the cursed hunger & desire of gold doth nat constrain mortal folks to do? Therefore thou mayst perceive that Horace was wise/ which calling richesse the matter and rote of all evils/ commanded to cast them in to the see: and said: If it be a wicked deed/ it repenteth me well. For there is so great familiar society and friendship of things/ that in the very names of vice and richesse/ Vitia et divitie/ seemeth to be a certain alliance and kindred. What rich man canst thou reckon unto me/ that is nat infected with one of these two vices/ either with covetousness (than which nothing is more to be abhorred) if nature to the same be over moche inclined: or else with prodygalyte and wast/ than which nothing is more abominable/ if he that is inclined thereunto be of benign and gentle nature? The covetous man is servant and not master unto riches: and the waster will nat long be master thereof. The one is possessed/ and doth nat possess: and the other within a short while leaveth the possession of riches. Me seemeth that the man called Eutrapelus/ understood those things very goodly/ the which as I have learned/ was wont to revenge him on his enemy after this manner and form: not with injurious words/ nor with poison/ nor with the sword: but he would enrich his foe with precious garments: for he supposed it/ the which is of truth/ that should provoke him to desire it/ and the hungry desire of riches should cause him to forget virtue/ and drive him to all filthiness and disworship. But admit that none of all these things shall chance unto thee/ and that thou shouldest have such hap as no man could have: Yet I pray the what goodliness have these precious weights: the which be gathered and got by great grief/ and kept with over great thought and care: In heaping them together is labour intolerable/ and in keeping them is over moche care and dread: and the foregoing or loss of them is a miserable vexation and torment. Therefore a rich man hath no sporting time: for either without rest or sleep he watcheth his goods that he hath got/ or else he gapeth to get more/ or else he sorroweth for his losses: And as oft as he doth nothing gain/ so oft he weeneth that he doth lose and hath damage. And what if he have & possess mountains of gold? Or what and his riches be greater than mountains of gold? Than so much the more he augmenteth his farthel and burden/ and heapeth up his cares: and throweth or tomblethe fear upon fear/ and grief upon grief/ and provideth for himself a charge or a business of a keeper full of all misery and labour. Care doth follow the increasing of money. And the desire of the money groweth as the money doth increase. And the poorer that a man is/ the less he coveteth money. And finally the very custody of great goods or substance/ is a miserable or a wretched thing. The man called Uulteius (of whom Horace speaketh) said/ that his advocate or attorney had done ill for him/ when by his wit and diligence/ he caused him from poverty to come to great riches: and he thought himself to be made a wretch and nat a rich man: and he prayed his attorney that he might be restored to his former life or state/ the which was poverty. truly he is to be praised/ that waxeth wise ere it be to late. But the covetous man saith: Though the care of these riches be grievous and painful/ money is sweet: My labour and pain doth nat weary nor grieve me/ so that my riches do increase. But tell me whether shall I call thee, the most fool or the most wretch of all men? To whom nothing can suffice/ which both night and day sittest watching on thy riches/ either hid and locked up in thy iron chests/ or else (to the end thou wouldest seem to be more wise) dolven in the earth: like as the serpent Hesperius watcheth the golden appulles. For what purpose thinkest thou these richesse and money should be profitable? Or what preciousness is in them? For of troth they be nothing else but very pure brass stricken in images and scriptures: the which can neither expel or put away the cares and griefs that gnaw the about the stomach/ nor they can nat avoid or rid the of sickness or any incommodity of thy body/ and moche less of death. But thou wilt say/ that richesse be good to withstand need and poverty. I promise the thou art deceived/ they will rather cause the to be ever needy. For like as drink doth nat quench his thirst that hath the dropsy/ but maketh him more thirsty: so like wise with the abundance of gods or richesse/ thy desire to have more doth increase: And who so ever seeketh after more/ showeth himself to be needy. Now add unto the trust that thou hast in thy goods/ the instabilite or unassurednes of them, the which thou by so long space of time/ with so great molestiousnes and labour/ by right and wrong/ hast gethered together all about: if that fortune (as men say) turn her wheel/ by and by they forsake and leave the and go to some other. And than thou that wast even now richer than Croesus that most rich king/ shalt suddenly come more poor than the beggar Irus. This thing is so clear and manifest/ that we need nat to spend many words therein. How many mayst thou see before thine eyen that fall from a kings riches to extreme poverty and neediness? But admit that goods or richesse be sure and stable/ and that they will never leave the so long as thou livest, canst thou carry them hence away with thee? Yea when thou goest to thy grave/ of all thy abundance and riches/ thou shalt scarcely have a course winding sheet: other men shall possess all the residue. And if thou with thy abundante riches hast done any good virtuous deeds/ they shall greatly avail and be much worth unto thee/ nor they will never leave the. Therefore my sweet joice thou shouldest nat esteem so highly thy possessions/ and all the gold that Tagus and Pactolus those rivers reverse and turn in their red sands/ that thou shouldest hurt or hinder thine own health: But thou shouldest rather/ if it delytethe the so greatly to be rich/ hearken what counsel our lord giveth thee: Make thou thy treasure in heaven/ where neither canker nor mought can destroy it: and where thieves can nat find nor steal it. Nor think nat that there is any plenty morenedy/ than to have abundance of money and want virtues. Nor nothing is more unwealthy than that lucre or winning that hurteth thy soul: Therefore unto thee/ that art both erudite and a christian man/ it is a foul and a shameful thing with great peril of thy soul health/ to incline to that/ the which the pagan philosophers either for the love of good learning/ or for their good name & fame/ did set at nought and lightly despice.   

That the pleasures of the flesh be both mortal and bitter. The four Chapter.  
DO the sweet lusts or enticements of the flesh withhold or retain thee? Surely they be ladies that most sweetly smile on thee/ and that with their fucate or feigned fairness deceive all most the whole world. But take or rub away the painting and colours: and beware that the craftily painted fair skin overcome the not. Behold and look well what these lewd lusts be in deed, and nat what they seem to be. Than shalt thou perceive that there is nothing more ill favoured/ nothing more fouler, nor more beastlike. For there is nothing that maketh a man more like unto a brute be'st/ than the most filthy lust of the fles she doth: which thing the more it smylethe or fawneth on one, the more it noyeth and hurteth. Like as the noble phylospher Plato most aptly calleth it the bait of all evils. For as the bait that is put upon the hook provoketh or draweth the small fish thereunto/ and taketh them that receive it: even so like wise the poison of carnal lust, covered with a little quantity of honey/ doth provoke or allure souls that be desirous of a pray: & when they be enticed she infecteth them: and when they be corrupted/ she dystroyethe them without mercy. And briefly to speak take heed what the philosopher saith/ surely it is a paynims saying/ but it is worthy and may well be said of a christian man: the which sentence the elder Cato saith in Cicero's book de Senectute/ that he learned at Tarent of Pythagoras scholar called Acchita/ he saith: There is no greater nor more deadly pestilence given of Nature unto mankind than voluptuousness/ of the which volupte the fervent lusts are prone and unbrydeldlye kindled to fulfil the desire thereof. Of this root springeth treason & betraying of countries: of this riseth turning up set down of the common wealth: the same thing causeth privy communications with our enemies. And finally there is no mischief/ nor none so vengeable a deed/ but that the lewd lust of volupte doth constrain one to enterprise or go in hand therewith. Add also these commodities following to them afore said: Of voluptuousness cometh indigence or neediness/ infamy or ill name/ grievous & filthy diseases of the body/ blindness of the mind/ despising of divine power/ and it is the very fountain and beginning of all misery: ye and finally it is the very chain/ wherewith mankind is drawn to everlasting pains. O sour sweetness, the which is environed or set about with so manifold miseries: many go before it/ and very many go with it/ and many many, yea most sharp grievous miseries come or follow after it. I said a little before that mankind in volupte was like unto brute beasts: but I say now that in this thing we behave ourself worse than beasts. For beasts take fruition of their pleasures (such as they be) frank and freely without any expense/ but o good lord how costly to mankind is that short and foul smack of the delicate throat and belly. Thou seest what thing it is, the which among bodily pleasures is most excellent/ if any kind of volupte may be called excellent. Whereto should I now rehearse unto thee/ the other trifling japes or rather madnesses of the world? Some call them ill joys: but me think I should nat misname them/ if I call them mad gauds. Whereto should I rehearse the dainty dishes/ the ingurgings/ the drinking and quafting one to an other/ the nightly drunkenness/ the banquets/ the dances/ the gambaudes/ the dissolute plays/ the knavish and rebaude iestingis/ and of the same sort a thousand things more? Do nat these things seem to the like the laughings of a frantic man? For who would nat judge that man to be clean beside himself and mad/ the which when he is led to be hanged or heeded/ trembleth nothing for dread of the instant execution/ but among all the other that sorrow and bewail his misfortune/ he is ioyfulle and glad/ ye and goeth toward the place where he shall end his life dancing and merrily scoffing and jesting? But those joice of whom I spoke now before/ I judge to be more madder than this fellow/ in as moche as the death of the soul is more grievous/ and more cruel than of the body. They pass forth their life days in gauds and sports/ and suddenly they go to hell. Go thou now/ forsake and fall from thy maker to the end that thy beastly and mortal flesh may an hour or two follow the lust thereof and live damnably/ and to the end that thy flesh may have and enjoy unsteadfast joys/ slay and mourther thy soul and prepare for thyself everlasting pains and wailings. But peraventure thou lovest the venerial act that is lawful/ and dost surely purpose to be married. For a troth I do nat condemn wedlock/ for I mind him that saith/ It is better to mary than to commit fornication/ but I would this should be as it were a place of refuge for unconstant folks that can nat live chaste. I have no spite at them that fled the great town of Segor and also the little/ to eschew the fire of Sodomites. I know and perceive well the strength of thy mind. I allow wedlock, but that is in them that can nat live well/ except they be married. But look thou & consider well what saint Hieronyme hath written of these matters: truly he hath written very moche thereof. But this one thing I will say unto thee/ for the great familiarity that hath always been between us. I admonish/ ye and heartily pray the to take heed & beware how thou puttest thy neck in this halter: in to the which if thou be ones entered/ thou canst nat lightly get out again. I do nat say that wedlock is nought/ but for a truth it is full of moche misery. And as single life is moche better/ so many and divers ways it is more unwealthy or unlucky.   

That the honours of this World be vain or foolish and unstable. The .v. Chapter.  
BUt peraventure the honourable prescriptions or titils of nobleness/ & the splendent glory of renown delighten thy mind. Why should it not? For as he saith/ it is a goodly thing to be honourably renowned far and wide/ and to rejoice and be glad that a thousand eyes behold the when thou speakest. It is a pleasant thing to the to be honourably sought upon and to have many clients or sutours to follow after and go about thee, and to be spoken of/ of every man/ and to be saluted and greeted as a great lord or a master. But I pray the tell me, what thing dost thou suppose that these honours be/ the which unto the being a mortal creature mortal folks give/ some for flattery/ some for fear/ and some in hope to win thereby? The which worldly honours be as clean false as they be caduke and vanishing. Be they nat false or untrusty thinkest thou/ the which indifferently chance as well unto him that is most worst as unto him that is most best? judge and dame thou those only to be good and very honours, the which flow or grow out of honesty and virtue. Look that thou embrace and stick unto virtue/ and thou shalt be honourable whether thou wilt or no. For as the shadow followeth still after the body/ and will nat leave it though he fly/ nor can nat be taken of one that reacheth for it: so these acts and deeds that be done rightfully/ shall without any seeking of thee/ bring the to honours/ the which thou being worthy to have canst nat avoid: & thou being unworthy canst nat obtain them. Is there any thing more slyppry or caduke than worldly honours? Truly me think that all worldly things vanish away lightly and tarry but a while. For what thing canst thou name here that is continually durable. And again nothing is more uncertain & flitting than great & high dignities: and seeing that nothing is got & obtained with more grief than dignities/ for one must a long season tumble the stone with Sisipho against the craggy mountain/ & boldly do some thing that is worthy of banishing/ prisonment/ or else hanging/ that at the last he may be some what worhy/ & some what exalted: Therefore I say as nothing is got more grievously/ so nothing is sooner lost. Thou askest me why so. Marry because that of necessity great hatred or spire followeth high dignity/ privy envy climbeth up to the highest in degree: and the winds overblow the high tops of trees and towers. For envy is wont always to accompany the noble and high enterprises. Thou wilt say what than? Marry he that hath gotten the hatred of many men/ must needs of very consequence have many enemies/ and be oft in danger of his life. Why so? Marry for when many go about to have that thing/ the which thou alone dost possess and hold/ and all the while thou dost prosper/ there is no hope to obtain it/ it must needs be/ that by some mean they will rid the out of the way. Hit were a thing of great difficult/ if that he/ for whom so many snares be laid/ should nat at the last fall in to one or other of them. Therefore either thou must die of poison/ or else on a dagger/ or else (which for the should be best of all) thou must save thyself by exile. Or else to the end that thou mightest be most fortunate, thou wilt live in perpetual anxiete and fear/ that thou be nat suppressed & cast down. No doubt thou shalt lead an noble life/ but it shall be very bitter and sour. Therefore think nat the contrary/ but that Juvenal spoke nat this ditty that followeth without great skele.  
FOr truly the truth groundly to express  
who coveteth excessive honours to attain  
And gathereth together exeedingly richesse  
Building up to wres upon to wres again  
Such climming up unwarely, may for a time remain  
Yet the higher thou clymmest the sorer is thy fall  
So saith the satyryan master Juvenal.  
But to what intent do I with so many words rehearse those things? truly to the end that thou my joice shouldest understand plainly/ how full of fear and dread/ how full of vexation and trouble/ and how caduke and brittle those things be/ the which this world/ all the while thou art in prosperity/ showeth to be of great and high exellence. What availeth all this/ when most bitter death feirsly assaileth & enuadeth us? When suddenly all the same images of nobylite/ the which after the manner of dreams vanish away: which dreams together with the sleep are gone and tarry no longer.  
Where been now the old tyrants become? Where is the great Alexandre/ whose covetous mind/ all the broad world could not sometime suffice? Where is the Persian king Xerxes/ with and of whose huge Navy of ships/ all the see was covered and redounded? Where is become Hanyball that was so oft victorious: the which when he lived/ broke the rough rocks and mountains with vinegar? Where is now Paulus Aemilius? Where is julius Cesar? Where is Pompeius? Where are become all the other most noble princes: of the Greeks/ of the romans/ and of other nations/ whose names to rehearse/ should be both tedious and time lost? What thing else remaineth of all their majesty and glorious acts/ but only the vain and frustrate talking of folks? ye/ and for the which talking/ they may thank the favour of learned men: for if learned men had nat written their deeds/ they should have been so clean forgotten/ that uneath any remembrance of them would have remained. And yet what so ever it be that remaineth/ pertaineth neither to them nor to us. For undoubted/ if that Alexandre the most noblest of all the kings that we have now rehearsed/ should return from Hell and behold the world/ and see how it burneth in ambitious desire of worldly honours/ I think verily he would laugh and deride the vain and foolish study or fervent industry of the common people/ & he having good experience in those matters/ would say these words or such like/ as followeth: Whither doth the blind error of mortal creatures so violently draw and lead them? No man regardeth the perfit good things/ the which may be to them very profitable in time to come/ but things that be hurtful/ vain and uncertain/ every man with right great labour seeketh & desireth. Why do folk so lewdly/ so unwisely/ and so obstinately enbusy themself to be exalted? Every man may learn/ at the lest wise by example of me/ that all worldly dignities soon decay/ and be most like unto clouds, the which oft times in an hour space/ be wont to be very large and broad/ and nothing at all. I myself was sometime the most puissant and mightest of all kings and emperors/ & was never overcome/ but was the hygest in honour of all men. I subdued and conquered kings and nations innumerable: and the world by me was conquered: I searched the sees: and at the last I attempted the element: Truly I had been fortunate & happy/ if I might have made death also afraid: But death that overcometh all things/ did overcome me/ yea/ with a little fever: There was never bubble blown upon the water more sooner flashed nor smoke in the air more suddenly consumed and gone/ than all that great brute of my famous deeds/ vanished and laid. Helas how greatly/ ye & how suddenly am I changed and turned from that great Alexandre/ to whose commandments all the world sometime fearfully obeyed? Now I am he that may be both despised and hurt of a poor page/ and can nat revenge me. Sometime the great world was less than my covetous mind: but now I am thrust in to a little vessel, and, seven. foot space sufficeth me. death only maketh a show and a proof of what valour men's bodies be. Sometime I was of great and high estate and right goodly to behold/ adorned with fresh purple apparel and a bright shining deademe: and now I am most loathly to look on. Here I lie/ dry bare bones & ashes. What availeth me my noble blood and lineage? What availeth me my glistering golden tomb? What good do all these curious buildings of steeples unto me/ that neither can see nor feel? But would to god my soul might have died with my body: and that after this bodily death/ a more sharper and a grevousser death should nat have followed. But Helas/ the immortal soul is now constrained to suffer pain for all is evil living of the body. O/ how happy be they that in their life time may understand these things/ the which we have proved/ but we perceive those things now to late? They be wise/ they I say be wise/ the which be contented with their fortune and state/ and strive to subdue and overcome themself/ and rather to rule themself well than to govern other: and rather to enbusy themself to get and obtain the celestial & perpetual kingdom/ than this earthly and unsteadfast empire. He is a mighty king/ what soever he be that ruleth himself well.  
What thing can be spoken more truly than this oration? and what is he that this so true and so pitiful an oration/ would nat fear & with draw from the covetous desire of honours?   

Of the necessity of death/ the Which suffereth nothing to be durable. The vi Chapter.  
Juice but to many words/ namely in a thing more clearer than the day light. For why/ this is the course of things now a days/ that when the old histories mention or rehearse any things to be marveled at/ there is no man well near, that will give credence thereto/ when he may see before his face more grievouser examples than he can read of. But touching death (because I spoke thereof) I am wont specially to marvel how this should be/ that seeing that nothing is so moche in our sight/ as death is/ that nothing is more farther out of our thought and remembrance. Ye and mortal folks are deducted and drawn out of this vocabull or word Mors, that is to say death: Wherefore we can no sooner be named Mortales, that is to say mortal folks/ but forth with our own ears give us warning of death. What an oblivion or a forgetfulness is this? How reckless are folks minds/ yea may I nat say how fond and frantic? Have we no more remembrance? Have we drunk so moche forgetfulness of the river Letheus/ that we can nat bear those things in mind/ that which show themself and appear still to us on every side? Be we as it were stones astonied/ that these things, the which we both see and here so often times/ can nat move nor steer us? Can we see so moche as one of the old world alive? And also we see that cruel death spareth or forbeareth no kind of folks in our tyme. Our fore fathers of old time be deed & gone: And as Cicero saith/ They have lived/ and without any difference we must go the same way/ and other that be to come shall follow after us. And so all we in manner of a swift river roll in to the occian/ that is to say we be all whirled in to the pit of death. And as Horace saith/ One night abideth for us all: And once we must needs tread the trace of death. The funerals of young and old are very thick mingled together. And cruel Proserpina forbeareth no man, Innumerable people of young/ old, and middle age, die here and there/ of our fellows/ of our acquaintance/ of our kinsfolk, friends/ father/ mother/ and children: and we ourself that must needs die/ be conversant a mydmonges the heaps of them that die: And all be it that we be borne under the same conditions that we must needs die/ yet we fear nat death. Thou sayest/ wherefore dost thou command me to think on death/ I am yet young and lusty/ I am far from whore hears/ and far from an old wrynkeled forehead? They should live in thought and care for dread of death/ that be old and crooked/ and stooping to the earth ward/ that have a light shaking heed/ hanging cheeks/ small hollow eyes/ a continual dropping nose/ a few teeth and rotten: the which when they have lived as long as a crow/ than they reckon their age upon their fingers. I am far from all these things. Doth nat my young blood/ that courageth mine heart and spirits/ my strong arms and big sides/ and all my body lusty and in good liking/ bid me to hope after long life? But I pray the tell me/ hath god promised to the either whore hears or wrinkyls? If thou see no man die but old folks/ than live careless/ and have no mind of death until the time that thou have whore heres & wrinkyls. But if that death do steal upon folks of every age/ if death strangle them that be nat yet borne, nat slaying them/ but removing them from life: If death pluck the children away that suck on their mother's breastis: If death snatch away lads and girls: If death pull away young men and maidens: If death slay mighty strong men: If death attrape old men: and finally if death spareth no person of no manner condition/ age/ strength/ nor beauty/ supposest thou it will forbear the only above all other? It is for certain/ that an old man can nat live long. And thou that art a young man mayst soon die. And look how certain and sure an old man is to die/ even so uncertain and unsure a young man is to live. There is no man so old but that he may live one day longer: Nor there is no man so young that can assure himself to live from morrow till night. And for a truth/ if thou mark it well/ thou shalt find that the most part that die be young folks. And all be it that whore age hath alway been scarce/ yet was it never more scarcer/ nor more despised than it is now a days. How many canst thou show me/ that have lived (I say nat so long as Cython/ Nestor/ Sibyl/ or Mathusale) but an hundred years? yea how many be there that live lx years? Forsooth scarcely one among a thousand. And how short a time is it? And yet thou seest how few come thereto: so fragyll or bryttyll/ so uncertain/ and subject to so manifold chances is the life of man. wilt thou good joice have of this thing a clear and a commodious similitude or figure? Behold how in the beginning of the year thou seest a tree storysshe/ and is so replenished or laden with flowers or blossoms/ that the trunk or body thereof can nat be seen/ and scarcely the leaves: the which tree seemeth to bring forth more plenty of fruit than the tree is able to bear. But yet of all this great number of blossoms very few prove: for some of them be corrupted & destroyed with worms/ some with spiders/ and some with wind and wether are beaten down. And the fruit that remaineth/ when the blossoms be gone/ by little and little wax greater. And than (I pray thee) do they all hang still till they be ripe? No truly. Many of them be worm eaten/ some the wind and wether beateth down/ some by great storms are corrupted and rotten/ and some other by other mischance are destroyed. In so much that at the last/ where thou hopest to have great abundance of fruit/ uneath thou getherest three or four appulles: Nor man's life doth perish with no less inconveniences. There be a thousand manner of sicknesses/ a thousand chances or occasions of death, a thousand manner of murders/ and a thousand sorts of snares/ that death layeth for us: through the which more die than by ancientness and tyme. And saying than that our life is subject to so many and great perils: behold I pray thee/ how witless and brainsick we be/ that live as though we should never die? We be right careful for those things that pertain nothing to us: but that thing that should instruct us against death/ we care nat fore. What if one king that hath mortal war with another/ knew nat for certain how near his enemy were/ but having knowledge and understanding by spies/ that he should lie in embushement nat far of/ & when he saw convenient time/ how he would rush out upon him. Trowest thou that he in this case would mind the building of baths/ or to prepare a banquet/ or to wed a wife? But that he would rather imagine how to augment his army/ to cast a bulwark/ to make good watch/ and to mind his armour & weapons/ and other things belonging to war/ whereby he may defend him from invasion/ and also discomfit his enemy? And for this will he care fore more diligently/ for as much as he knoweth nat what time/ nor on which side the bushment will break out upon him. But death/ our chief enemy/ in every place/ and at all times of our age/ hath laid a thousand manner of imbushementes to attrape and deceive us. And yet in the mean time a god's name, we stand gauring and daring at riches/ we fede & to dearly cherish our bodies/ and seek for rule and master ship. But and we would at all times consider the unsteadfastness and wavering of this deceitful life/ and how that death still continually hangeth over us/ we should drive in to our own ears/ that that the prophet said unto the sick king/ dispose thy house/ for thou shalt die: than incontinent all these things/ which to our great hurt seem savoury & sweet/ would wax bitter and sour/ and those that we think right precious/ would seem vile and little worth: and those that we repute noble and gay things/ would appear foul and ungodly. So lightly one thought or inward remembrance of death/ persuadeth us to set nought by all worldly things. O thou covetous man/ to what end or intent dost thou gether such abundance of gold? death is at thy back ready to snatch all away. Why dost thou prepare so many great farthels for so short a journey? Hast thou forgot what happened to the fool that the gospel speaketh of? To whom/ reioising that his barns were full of corn/ and promising himself many great pleasures/ it was said: Thou fool, this same night thou shalt be slain, and than who shall be master of thy goods? O thou most foolysshe or unwise fellow/ why dost thou incline or seekest for so mad or unsteadfast joys/ ye with so great rebuke or blame? Lo/ behold death is even at hand/ ready to turn these so foul short and lewd lusts of the body/ in to everlasting pain and torment. And thou that seekest to bear a rule/ to be in high authority/ and to reign royally aloft/ what an ungracious desire steereth the thereto? Look, seest thou nat that death is at thy door/ the which from this high estate will throw the heedling to the ground: as it were a hurl wind/ it will bear or carry away both the and all thine? Wherefore Radulphus Agricola did nat only right counnyngely/ but also as veritably or truly indite as followeth.  
death overthrow weth and destroyeth all thing  
And all that is borne must needs decay  
Only virtue shall never have ending  
And good acts or deeds shall endure always.  
FOr what thing else remaineth/ at the extreme and most grievous point of our life but only virtue? Than the membres languysshe/ and the colour of the blood and the life together vanish away/ the visage dieth with a deadly wan colour/ the eyes that a little before were so quick and lively of sight/ are than abscured with perpetual darkness: and finally all the whole body cometh cold without any sensyblenes: than the miserable soul/ on whom as one destitute/ lieth all the weight of the business, shallbe drawn to that inexorable place of judgement to make a count and give a reckoning how and in what manner it hath ministered all things. What I say shall than remain of all thy worldly riches/ honour's/ and possessions/ the which to get together thou didst consume all thy life days? On whom than wilt thou seek for succour and help? O miserable wretch/ to whom wilt thou go? Whether wilt thou flee? To thy richesse? Helas they can nothing help thee/ and though they could/ yet are they than in other men's possession. wilt thou go to thy voluptuous pleasures? These like as they be joined to the body/ so they die together with the body. wilt thou flee to thy lusty and valiant young age? Ah every man's old age is death to his youth. wilt thou flee to thy comely shape and beauty/ the which very late made the proud/ and enticed every body to love thee? This thing also like as a rose nypte or plucked from the stalk fadeth/ so together by death it withereth all away. Wytherethe away quoth I/ nay I may say it fadeth away in to a grisly ugliness. For never none loved so well the form and shape of a living creature, as he abhorreth the cors or carkis of one that is deed. Wilt thou run to thy old glory? This thing also like as I have said vanysheh away utterly when thou diest. Finally to whom wilt thou call and cry for help. wilt thou go to the fellowship of thy friends? Helas some of them/ as soon as fortune leaveth thee/ they go their way/ like as swallows do when summer is gone: and the other/ if any remain still thy friends/ can nat come to help the. And what can it avail or help thee/ if thy miserable friends wail and knock on their breasts/ if they scratch their visages/ if they weeping at thy funeral would shed all their blood turned into tearis, or if for thy sake they would run mad, or slay themself to bear the company? They may so hurt themself/ but they can nat deliver the. Be wise also and consider thy state and condition betimes/ prepare and have in a readiness those things/ with which thou being fortified/ thou mayst careless or without dread abide the last day. Though riches/ pleasure/ and nobleness were both certain and profitable/ which thing is far contrary/ yet undoubted to one that dieth they are a heavy burden. But than virtue beginneth to be profitable. And surely if these worldly things would never leave us/ yet must we needs forego them: but virtue never forsaketh our company, nor to help us.   

That the World is both miserable and scelerous. The Seventh chapter.  
THou clearly ꝑceivest good joice/ how false or deceivable/ how flitting/ and how pestilent the goods of this world be (if they of right may be called goods) now contrary wise/ I will declare to the in few words/ the ills that come of them. peraventure in time past it was no wonder/ though we were plucked and drawn with pain out of this world/ when it flourished as it were in youth: but now except we deceive ourself/ in what thing may the world deceive us? What ever and as many slaughters/ murders, ruins/ and destructions/ that chanced or fell on mankind in time past/ some at one time and some at another/ they assail and invade us in our days all on a heap at ones/ as wars/ dearth/ scarcity/ penury, barrenness/ and many a strange sickness? Yea what evil or mischief is it/ that we have nat seen in our days? I am now xxiiii years old/ and in all this season the war never stinted. Hit would seem that Sylla were come again with his partial part taking/ or cedition. And which so ever of the parties doth overcome well I wot the country is subdued/ and guiltless doth suffer great affliction. What miserable examples of penury & famine have we seen? in so much that many have lived with beasts food/ and many have died for very hunger. And as the world goeth now/ a man had need to have the riches of king Croesus'/ which yet for all that/ he shall with great sparing and nigardeshyp scantly find his house hold. And farther: I put the case that thou thyself dost live welchyly: yet every thing is so full of calamity/ that to here the lamentations/ and to see the miseries wherein other creatures are wretchedly wrappedde/ shall make the miserable. More over/ the sedes of all mischiefs are so sprouted out/ that now in our days we pass and far exceed the iron age/ whereof men sang a thousand years ago.  

¶ Of sturdy indurate iron the best age framed was,  
Than pressed in all mischief the world round about  
which of a worse metal Nature did compass  
For shamefastness & troth with faith were driven out,  
In whose stead came in an ungracious rout  
Subtyste, falsehood, maintenance and disobeyed  
Each one to deceive other that lie in a wait   

¶ with covetous that caitiff to catch that catch may  
By robbery and extortion their lives for to lead  
Each one of other standing in a fray  
The father of his son standeth in fear & dread  
One brother of an other can scantly trust to speed  
In Methamorphoseos ye may read this work  
In Juvenal also, that much noble clerk.   

¶ Which saith, how the world that we sine in now  
Is worses than the iron world that men did so call  
For nature could never find the means yet how  
That any name of metal might aptly now fall  
To call this world by his name which world is worst of all  
Worse than iron world, of copper or of brass.  
This world is the wretched world that ever was.   

¶ For if it were found that a man now a days  
Would knowledge the gauge or pledge to him laid  
Or deliver again, when the party him prays.  
A bag of money, that was to him conveyed  
In trust for to keep, and truly again repaid  
It might welny be enrolled, & written for a wonder  
That covetous and money could so depart asunder.   

¶ So wonderful it were and so prodigious  
That it might well be registered, and ripely enrolled  
Of the Tuscans, among their records superstitious  
Engrossed with enchantementes marvelous to be told  
Pronostycating what thing so ever they would  
By procuration of a lamb that crowned there was  
Among them to bring such wonders to pass.   

¶ Of true and faithful people the number is so small  
That I trow there be scant so many good men  
As Thebes the city had gates about their wall  
which had but vii gates as authors me ken  
which number may easily be written with a pen  
Or as there be but vii passages of Nilus that flood  
uneath may be found so many true men and good.   
What wilt thou do in the world/ if thou canst nat nor hast nat the cast to fors were thyself/ nor to imagine fraud and guile/ nor to deceive thy neighbour/ nor to steal and bribe? But thou say it/ what have I to do with these worldly manners and evil customs? All my care is only to live truly and rightously. If all thy care be to live rightously/ look than that thou get the lightly out of this world/ for the world & virtue will in no wise agree together. Thou mightest say that I lied/ if he that is the very friend of virtue did nat say/ that all the world is set on wickedness. Nor thou shouldest nat say smile to thyself: What so ever other do pertaineth nothing to me: I care but for mine own self. Truly sweet joice/ thou art clean wide and out of the way: for it skilleth greatly with whom thou dost lead thy life/ for the diseses of the soul sprawl abroad or infect none otherwise/ than the contagious maladies of the body do. There is nothing more perilous than evil company. admit it be so/ that thou lovest virtue above all things: and wilt accompany the with an ungracious caitiff: How long shall it be or thou mayest reduce him to thy manners? Yea/ he shall rather (as we be given and inclined naturally to ill) corrupt the with his venom/ and infect the with his scabbed cursedness/ and make the like him in condition/ and at the last/ the common proverb shallbe verified on you twain/ that is/ Birds of one colour fly together. But thou sayest/ who shall drive or compel me to lead my life with an ungracious and a mischievous fellow? Dost thou ask that question? I tell the thine age and needful business: & furthermore that ungentle shame fastness: but yet of truth/ it is most part in men of gentle mind and courage: And lastly/ the unworthy conditions of thy fellows. If thou be required to go make good cheer/ or to do or play some other lewd prank/ it booteth or aueyleth the not to excuse the by some business/ or else that thou art acrased/ for though thou swear it on a book/ thou shalt nat be believed: & either they will note the for a niggard or else for a sloven. What wilt thou do? peraventure because thou wouldest nat be so noted/ thou wilt follow their mind and intent. When ye come to the tavern or brothel house/ there every man hath his wench. I tell it that is most honest/ I am ashamed to rehearse their other filthy deeds: and yet they be nat ashamed to comytte and do them many times and oft. Than they begin to strive and crack who may drink best: And he that can drink most/ is the meryest/ the gayest/ and the jolliest fellow. Than what is it that drunkenness will nat provoke or cause to be done? Than Pythyas seemeth much fairer. Than Chremes is far more merrier. And it is both truly and commonly said: that without good meats & drinks/ bodily lust waxeth cold. And when they be weary of drinking and banqueting/ than they fall to revelling and dancing. Than whose mind is so well ordered so sad/ stable/ and constant/ that these wanton dancings/ the swinging of the arms/ the sweet sown of the instruments/ and feminie singings/ would nat corrupt/ overcome/ and utterly mollify? Ye and farther the ballads that they sing be such/ that they would kendell up the courage of the old and cold Laomedon/ and Nestor. And when the minstrel doth make a sign to stint/ than if thou do nat kiss her/ that thou leading by the hand didst dance with, thou shalt be taken for a rustical or an uplandish villain without any good manners or nurture. Of the other sports and plays/ the which are more shameful than these/ and invented only for bodily lust and wantonness/ I will nat speak. Would to god they would no more use them. If thou shouldest refuse to do any of these things/ and wouldest assay to do some thing of more sadues and prudence/ they will esteem and count the unmannerly/ cloubbysshe/ froward/ and clean contrary to all men's minds. And to the intent that thou wouldest eschew that blemish or blame/ O what filthy acts dost thou commit. So thus while thou wouldest fly and eschew hatred, while thou art ashamed to be reputed wayward or froward/ while thou art ashamed in deed to seem or be a little shamefast (as saint Agustyne saith) thou dost forget all shame: And when thou art infected with like scourfe and scab/ than thou endevourest thyself and ghost about to infect other. But admit thou dost nat accompany with no wicked or sinful caitiff (which were a thing of great marvel) yet the poison of the malady or sickness is wont not only with touching/ that is so say contactu, whereof the maladies or diseases be called contagia, but also with beholding to creep and infect one. For the whole and sound eyes with beholding or looking on sore eyes take hurt. And verily I suppose/ that the eyes be the chief occasion of all lewd enticements that provoke and steer us to filthy sin. Therefore most gentle joice as thou desirest thine own wealth/ look that thou flee and eschew this scabbed and scurvy company: and draw unto them/ by whose conversation thou mayst amend thy life.   

What felicity is in solitary life. The Eight Chapter  
ALl be it that I suppose that I have spoken of the foresaid things sufficiently, yet to the intent that thou shouldest nat only with a good will but also joyfully skip from the world and run to religion/ that is to say/ nat so much hating or aggrieved with the ills of the world/ as desirous of our delicious pleasures, me think it were nat inconvenient to rehearse now in few words/ the commodities of our life, which thing to do, it behoveth me to be brief, both because I have spent moche time labour/ and paper, in straightly discussing of the evils and calamities of this world, and yet the greatness thereof requireth moche more than hath been spoken (for in manner no words or time of communication to discuss it/ could suffice) and eke because me thought thou beganst to wax weary of my babbling, and also because those things are more easily perceived than declared. Therefore I would rather that thou shouldest learn them by experience than by my declaring, and rather to search them out thyself than to be persuaded. Now sweet joice withdraw the lightly from the troublous business of this world and come to us. And than at last thou shalt perceive and see how far the false and deceivable prosperity of the world doth differ from very felicity, and how far our labours and travails do pass and excel thy delights. I say thou shalt understand and perceive it/ like as one were waked out of his sleep, the which all the while he sleepeth/ supposing that the imaginations and fantasies/ that appear to him in his sleep/ be true/ he rejoiceth/ he dreadeth/ he exhalteth himself/ and is moucd with a thousand affections. But as soon as the sleep is gone/ he than perceiveth/ that he was deluded and mocked with imaginations/ yea and he himself laugheth at his dreams: So like wise/ when thou shalt clearly perceive and understand the felicity of our institution or life. O how oft than/ when the dreams of thy former life come to thy remembrance/ and being awaked out of that worldly slumber/ wilt thou say? A good lord/ was I ever so far beside myself/ that any of these trifyls delighted me? Have such fantasies in times passed of false and vain goods so ravished my mind & wit/ that no desire of things that be good in deed/ could enter in to me? Therefore now good joice/ if thou be a sleep/ awake/ except thou hadst leaver be happy in dreaming than happy in deed. If thou nap a little/ open thine eyes and shake it of/ lest the deep sleep steal upon the. But in case that thou be awaked/ as I suppose thou art/ than lest the example of sleepers/ or else the violence of sleep persuade the thereto: high the as fast as thou canst out of this land of Babylon/ full of dreams & shadows: and get the apace to our Jerusalem. Why lookest thou behind thee? Why staggerest? Why dost thou stay or stand any while? Hit is alway hurtful/ as Lucan saith, to defer or prolong these things forth/ that be ready prepared. Go to/ break of all delays: for it is nat a light or a trifling business/ that thou art in hand with/ the matter concerneth or toucheth thy soul: the which is so worthy and so noble a thing/ that for the wealth thereof thou oughtest nat only to leave and forsake those things/ that thou lovest most dearly/ but also willingly to take on the and suffer most hard and grievous pain and travail. If an excellent and a perfect cunning phisytion would say to one that were sick and unlike to escape death: Suffer a little while/ and I will restore the to thy health again: Tell me what rough handling/ painful touching/ grievous throws/ would he with right good will endure? He would suffer his limbs to be torren and haled with boistous iron instruments/ to be lanced/ cut/ burned/ and a thousand other ways painfully handled/ yea he would suffer some pains/ that be more grievous than the very death/ to th'end to escape death/ and a little while prolong his wretched life. O good lord/ should any thing seem grievous to the to suffer/ that thou mightest thereby eschew the death of thy soul/ yea death everlasting? If the chance stood so/ that thou must needs those one of these two conditions/ either to suffer thy body to be clean extincted, and utterly destroyed/ that thy soul might live everlastingly: or else by death of thy soul to obtain life of thy body: I believe thou wouldest nat take long advisement/ except thou were more madder than any frantic man/ but that thou wouldest quickly choose rather the perpetual life of the soul/ than the very short life of the body. And therefore tell me good joice/ wilt thou nat live both blessedly and perpetually? Hit were great marvel but thou wouldest/ for what is he that would nat? But thou wilt say: By what mean may I obtain to live alway blessedly? Go to/ I pray thee, behold what a great thing with a little labour thou mayst come by. To obtain this thing/ thou needest not to fly in the air with Dedalus wings/ nor to travail & pass the dangerous sees/ nor to take on hand the painful labours of Hercules/ nor to leap in to the fire/ nor no man will constrain thee/ that for this thing thou shouldest hale & tear thy limbs/ nor slay thyself. Finally/ who would say that the martyrs in old time were peevish/ the which on hope and trust of this felicity/ would nat deny or refuse any manner pains or cruel torments/ no, nat the very death to be hard or grievous to them? Take heed I pray thee/ how abundantly our benign and liberal lord hath bestowed his gifts upon us/ and again, how easy and light his commandments be. He promised everlasting felicity to them that have deserved death. What thing can be more benign or bountiful than this promise? ye and what is more sure and certain? But now/ what doth he command the to do? Forsooth nothing/ but that in the mean time thou shouldest diligently prepare and make thyself ready to receive so great and so excellent a gift? Thou wilt ask me/ by what way this should be done? No man can receive the very felicity/ so long as he is possessed and holden in captivity and thraldom of false felicity. wilt thou live everlastingly? Than look that thou live well. Wilt thou enter in to paradise? Than look that thou forsake this world: for as it is most mischiefull/ so it is most troublous and painful. Dost thou desire and covet to be joined to god? Than se that thou endeavour the to be out of the devils snares. Dost thou love true richesse? Than throw away from thee/ the false. If thou have delight in very honours: leave thy seeking for the false. What more? Dost thou love very true beatitude? Look than that thou forsake these sweet travails/ yea the laborious sweetness of this world. What thing is more softer or easier than these precepts? Who so ever keepeth them/ shall have very felicity for his reward: and the keeping of god's commandments is the beginning of felicity. As though he commanded thus: Leave to be wretched/ that ye may be wealthy: Leave to be servants, that ye may enjoy liberty. O, what a great difference is between god's commandements and the devils? O/ how contrarily they strive and contend together? For after the devil hath caught us on his hook with a little bait of false delectation? O good lord, into what horror or ugliness/ into what filthiness/ and into what miseries doth he cast us? And at length/ when he hath deluded and mocked us his fill/ he strangleth us. God by very little and short solicitudes and griefs (the which we suffer nat through any fault of the things/ but through our own fault) leadeth us to joy incredible/ and at length he giveth us the bliss of heaven. The devils promotion is deceitful/ his warfare is sour/ and his wages (which as the scripture doth witness is death) is most sour of all. Goddis obligation is faithful and sure: the longer that his war endureth/ the sweeter and more pleasant it is: and his wages/ which is blessed immortality/ is most sweetest of all. The life of them that follow the devil is wretched/ the death more wretched & after death a life most wretched of all. But to God's servants the life is wealthy/ the death more wealthy/ and after death followeth a life most wealthy and blessed of all. Who would nat most gladly/ yea and freely make war under so easy & so liberal a captain/ which putteth us to so sweet labours? If thou give but little credence to my words/ hearken to him exhorting us/ that can nat deceive (for what leasing can truth make?) Take my yoke upon you/ and ye shall find rest for your souls: for my yoke is sweet/ and my burden light. What joy trowest thou/ after their victory/ shall they have/ triumphing in heaven everlastingly/ with most high renowned pomp/ to whom the labour of the warfare here is so delectable? How pleasant shall that happy liberty be/ if his yoke be sweet to us? I wot well there be some that will take for a wonder/ these words that I have said: but undoubted they be of that same sort/ which most like unto brute beasts/ dame all felicity to rest and be in the taste of the mouth and pleasure of the belly. Hit is hard to make such to believe/ that the labours/ where upon the life of religious persons is employed/ be neither grievous/ nor heavy or painful/ but rather pleasant & jocund. But seeing such fellows will nat believe the very truth/ I would they should search and make a proof thereof themself. And on pain of my life they shall nat be deceived/ so that they do their best/ and assay it as they ought to do. What if it irk or grieve them to make a proof? Than truly I would that they should give credence to those that have proved religion. For sooth I dare affirm it with an oath/ that every thing in religion is full of pleasure. Nothing is more plentiful or abundant than our poverty/ nothing is more restful than our labour or travail/ our abstinence and fasting is right suffisant/ our narrow or straight room/ is to us large/ wide/ and broad/ our watching is to us more gladder than any sleep. But & I should swear this upon a book: yet some would nat believe me: Yea they would dame me/ joining those so contrary things together/ no wiser than he that would go about to prove that the darkness is light/ and the light darkness/ that the fire is cold and the water hot. But what should one say to these beastly creatures/ the which have no reason/ nor they understand no higher than the corporal sensis? Well/ yet I will nat leave them so: They must be alured and drawn with some argument/ very familiar and plain to their understanding/ that by those things/ the which unto them be most notable/ they may conject what these things be/ of the which they have but small knowledge. Let us train them in to the country/ or else if that be grievous unto them/ let us go near home to the haven/ and call to us one of the mariners/ which we will/ and say: Come hither good fellow/ is nat the labour and toiling that thou haste a shypbourde very grievous & painful to thee? No saith he/ it is a pleasure. How should that be? For in this manner getting of thy living/ seemeth to be more and greater incommodities than in any other. Hit is truth saith he. But than on the other side/ there be many things that greatly encourage and comfort me. first/ what thing is it/ that sweet lucre or winning doth nat make pleasant? Nothing is more plentiful or richer than the see. There be many alive at this day/ which were very poor/ & now by travailing and turmoiling on the see only/ they be exceedingly rich. Who can tell whether it shall be my chance like wise or no? Farther, the customance and continual use thereof/ easeth a great part of my grief: the which continual custom in things is without doubt of so great effect/ that nothing is so grievous or painful to be done/ but that the oft doing thereof maketh it either pleasant/ or at the lest light and easy, And lastly/ there be certain things/ the which do mitigate and make us to forget the pain of our labour and toiling/ as singing/ talking/ proper sportis/ and a thousand other such like things. Ye have hard this I think plainly enough. Now if we should go from warkehouse to warkhouse/ I trow every man would answer and say to us the same/ or very like words. What followeth than? Truly if uncertain hope for so small and vile lucre/ maketh so grievous labour and toiling pleasant to these labourers & workmen: Why should nat the most certain and sure abiding for everlasting felicity, cause and work the same in us? If continual use and customance be of so great effect/ and may do so much among them/ for what cause should it not do like wise in religion? If they have ways/ with the which they alleviate and ease their incommodities and griefs: no doubt we have many more and better to mitigate our tribulations and pains.   

How that far greater liberty is in religion than in the world. The ix chapter.  
briefly to speak/ these iii things be in religion/ Liberty/ tranquillity & pleasure. Of Liberty (whereof I will first entreat) all we be most desirous/ every man abhorreth servage and thraldom: in so much that many have killed themself for very hate thereof, which esteemed liberty better than life/ and death better than servage. wherefore if folks delight so moche in liberty/ that to buy false liberty cost them so dearly/ how gladly ought they to embrace and desire the institution of our life/ as it wherein is perfect and true liberty? But here some ignorant fellow will say to me: If liberty (after Cicero's definition) be to live as thou wilt thyself/ I can nat see how you religious men should have any liberty at all: for ye like birds shut in a cage dare adventure to do nothing/ neither to eat nor speak/ to sleep nor wake/ to go nor come/ nor so much as ones to yane/ without the abotte or superior command you. I pray you do such folks live at their liberty? No certainly/ no more than horses or asses be at their liberty/ the which are bridled and pricked with the spurtes/ to go here & there/ where so ever the rider will have them. But all this argument is soon dashed. For we will nothing but that that is leeful: and therefore it is leeful for us to do what so ever we will. But touching our liberty/ I will speak more afterward. Now give me leave to question again with the a little. Tell me/ art thou nat ashamed, to say thou art at thy liberty in the world/ when thou hast more masters than thou canst number in a day? first/ thou must attend and apply thy mind about the worldly businesses/ to the which who so ever once giveth himself/ they are wont to wrap and with such chains to link him in/ that whither or which way so ever they draw/ he must needs follow after. What & thou have a wife/ yea thou must needs be had/ for wedlock is a thing reciprocate? Take heed/ there be an other peyre of fetters. For truly by that/ there groweth to the an other grievous servage/ and out of it thou canst nat lightly get. Farther, what & thou be a wicked and a sinful liver? O good lord/ in to what a bondage and thraldom art thou than son? Now look how many vices thou haste/ and to so many masters thou must obey/ yea such masters as are most terrible/ abominable/ and cruel. For who would dame that man to be at his liberty/ the which can nothing disobey his bodily lust/ but what so ever it commandeth/ yea though it be most filthy/ as it is always/ and most hard or painful/ as it is oft/ yet he must needs obey? Thine eyes desire sleep/ and fain thou wouldest sleep: but to the intent that thou shouldest nat/ thy right stately masters fleshly lust letteth thee/ she biddeth the to rave in the night/ and to run about/ to visette thy paramour/ and in a foul stinking brothel house among whores and drabs to pass forth the night without sleep. And there thou must be glad to please a stinking harlot: if she command the to do any thing/ thou must do it: if she forbid the to do any thing/ thou must like wise obey: if she bid the go thy way/ thou must depart: if she bid the come/ thou must return. Dost nat think this a thraldom or bondage most shameful? What liberty hath a covetous man? he would fain live at home/ & so sluggardie biddeth him. But may he do so continually? will his masters covetousness suffer that? what saith she? livest thou thus in sleuth? why sittyst thou still? Seest nat what great winning thou mightest have/ if thou wouldest pass the see with merchandise in to France/ Flanders/ and other places? Come of/ make the ready/ thou must needs take shipping. Lo/ thou hast wind at will. And thus to fullfyl thy masters bidding/ thou travailest by see & land: yea all the winter long/ and hast no care for the tempests/ nor for thy wife/ nor for thy children/ no nor for thine own life. Dost thou reckon thyself this wise to live at liberty? And in reasoning a like proof may be made of every other vice: but because me think this talking waxeth tedious to thee/ I will pass over and speak of other things: but first I will show the in general/ that no man being wicked and sinful can be at his liberty. Were thou never ashamed and sorry for thy filthy life? Yes I believe many a tyme. For who is so far passed all grace/ that never remembreth how he hath lived? and when he seeth how he is defiled/ either for fear of punishment/ or for the love of virtue/ he hath an intent or purpose to amend his life. Thou sayest/ it is so in very deed/ and I strive with myself other while to forego my most wicked manners: but when I am about it, ye would nat believe with what force & violence custom in sin stoppeth me/ yea and whether I will or no/ it driveth me to mine old affections. Thou sayst well and truly. What than? Dost thou nat perceive wretch in to what great captivity thou art brought? Dost nat now understand, that thou art servant unto vices? For when they perceive that thou art about to leave them, and to run away/ they lay hands upon thee/ and as a servant fast fettered/ they throw the in to the back house. 
Back house was a place in old time where runagate servants were sore punished.  Go to now mad fellow, and boast to us thy liberty that art servant to the world, to thy wife, to Fortune, to carnal lust, to covetousness, to ambition, ye and to the devil, in so much that thou mayst well say with the married man in Terence called Syrus (save only that in him it is feigned/ and thou mayst say it matter in deed) I desire and would fain know, how many masters I have. And truly, as our country man Hegius writeth, 
To be servant unto many  
Is a state of great misery.   
Whereto should I now remember to the our liberty or freedom? Doth it nat seem a great liberty to live out of fortune's dominion? if there be any fortune/ and neither to dread her cruelty, nor to desire her favour/ nor nothing grieved with her adverse frowardness/ nor nothing the more insolent or stately for her luckynes. We dare as boldly despise her as Democritus did/ ye and in derision make a pot at her. She hath no power over us. We have together with worldly riches, thrown away from us the desire of the same riches: yea we have with god played the usurers. What & fortune slay us? Yet we surely know/ that no grievous thing can chance unto us save only filthy sin. They be afraid of death, the which live ill and sinfully. But certainly good and virtuous people do nat only live out of the dread of death/ but also they desire death/ as the thing that should from hence deduct and lead them to a more wealthy and blessed life. furthermore we have all to broken the iron yea the chain as hard as the adamant stone/ of worldly business: And thus we being lighted and delivered of that most grievous farthel or burden/ and lifting up our minds to heaven/ what so ever is done beneath a low, we dame ourself to have nothing to do therewith. Wherefore I pray thee/ what thing can be more free or more at liberty? furthermore we have by the help of god/ shoken of our necks the most hard or heavy yoke of terrible Pharaoh. We have given over and left to serve most shameful & reproved lords/ I mean vices/ but nat in such wise/ that we should never at no time commit sin or offend/ I wot nat whether any mortal creature may do so in this life or no. But as a valiant warrior/ that obtaineth great laud and praise/ and the name of a conqueror/ entereth boldly in to battle/ and manly feyghteth hand to hand with his enemy/ and there receiveth many a grievous wound/ but yet he either taketh or sleeth his enemy: And on the other side/ he that is taken/ though he have never a wound/ no nat so much as his skin broken/ yet he is judged to be vanquished and over come/ & must suffer himself to be led away as a prisoner in to captivity: So like wise if it happen us to slide/ for as I have said/ almost no man can keep himself always from sin: yet we be sure to overcome/ we be sure of our liberty, and we be in certainty of our life. What doth it signify that they, the which bear themself manly in battle are wont to uncover their breast is/ to show the scars of their wounds? Or why return they in to the city or lodgings with the spears/ darts/ and arrows sticking still in their bodies/ like as they were by chance stricken and wounded in battle? Certainly to the end that all folk should see and understand/ that they reckon it most high worship/ in the defence of themself/ and the wealth of their country/ to receive most large and grievous wounds. Yea truly they would rather (wounded unto death) be carried in to their tents or lodgings with victory/ than whole and sound (if they so could) to come under the subjection of their enemy. Who so ever submitteth him to vice and sin/ he is in great thraldom and a very bond man to an enemy. But to what enemy? To an enemy most filthy/ most cruel/ and most mortal/ the which will be more glad and fain of our death/ than of his own life. What a shameful thing is it for man/ and what an unworthy thing to man's worthiness/ to endure or suffer/ that the foul stinking devil should be his lord and master/ & let naught by him/ to whom he is bound both for himself and all that ever he hath? Specially sith to serve him (I say almighty god) is most high liberty/ yea there is no liberty but that. Wherefore if there be any/ that beginneth to wax weary of that servile and bondly liberty, and would gladly come to this free and most liberal service: he must I say seek it in religion. For as I have said/ liberty is to serve god only/ the which can be served no where better than in solitary and places of religion: for there is no where else so moche liberty.   

How they that live a solitary life enjoy a double quietness. The Tenth Chap.  
BUt what is he that could worthily describe tranquillity or quiet? The unrestful roaring of the world doth nat rush in here among us in religion. What thing is there abroad in the world/ that is nat full of belling/ crying/ hurling and burling/ and business? One weepeth/ an other laugheth/ he lamenteth/ he striveth/ he greeteth/ he telleth news/ one calleth forward/ an other commandeth to come back/ he is gone/ he cometh/ one crieth and calleth out a loud/ an other runneth to and fro/ yea which way so ever thou look/ where so ever thou become/ thou shalt find nothing in quiet/ but thou shalt find every thing full of noise and dynne/ in such wise/ that it shall seem to the that thou art all to tossed among the raging wawes of the see/ when it is most troublous. When shalt thou have time among these things to set thy mind at rest and quiet? What is he/ that in so variable a state of things can stand constantly & live out of trouble? What thing in this whirl wind may the divine mind of man either think or do/ that is worthy & beseemeth him to do? How is it possible that the soul/ now made deaf with continual and unsatiable roaring and yelling/ may here her spouse knocking at the gates of her breast/ and his voice speaking to her? For a truth/ Helyas perceived nat that our lord god was with him/ in the cite or town/ but in the mountain/ nat in the court/ but in the cave/ nat in the whirl wind that all to breaketh the stones/ nat in disturbance/ no nor in the fire/ but in the whissinge of the thin and light air. If thou hadst time to over read the holy histories/ thou shouldest see and perceive/ that the greatest miracles of divine things were showed and done in solitary places/ and nat where great resort and company were gathered. For where was that secret and wondrous mystery of the burning boushe that flamed up/ and perished nothing/ showed to Moses? Was it in the cities of Egypt? No truly. (for than he was fled thence for dread of the tyrant Pharaoh) but it was done in the hill of god/ after he had entered in to the great, large, and high wood. Nor the celestial food Manna, was nat sent to them that did inhabit great & noble palaces/ but unto them that dwelled in the flourishing wilderness. Where was the divine pomp and triumph celebrate in giving of the law/ when the celestial trumpets gave a terrible sound, now and than thundering and lightening with swift flame/ flushing out of the dark and thick clouds? For a truth this was done upon the hill top of Sinai/ all the common people being commanded to stand a side. And it is left in writing/ that in old time the prophettis children/ the which in time to come should be prophettis themself, would for hatred of the rich edefices & sumptuous buildings/ go dwell upon the river side of jordan. Iohn being more than man/ as he that was called the angel of our lord/ I pray the where led he his heavenly and most pure life? Where was he taught the divine secrets/ that he doubted nat to point god with his finger/ that was in likeness of a man? Certainly he did nat learn it at home with his father/ but in the wilderness. And what meaneth it, that many times we see our lord jesus himself/ as though he were weary of company/ depart aside into solitary places? How often is it red that he taught in the mountains? And what miracles showed he in desert places/ and upon the see coast/ both in healing of sicknesses/ and in correcting of the vices both of body & soul/ in expulsing and casting out of wicked spirits, and in feeding of so great multitudes of people with so little quantity of meat. What time he would fast, he clean absented himself/ and was in desert places out of the sight of all folks. In a mountain that most gracious vision was showed to his three apostles. In the twilight of that night, in the which christ suffered himself to be taken/ to the intent he would pray/ he departed and went in to the orchards. It is he the which also biddeth us when we will pray, to hide us in the secret parts of our chambre. And finally/ it was nat causeless/ but for great skele/ that he was slain with out the city: so that thou mayst lightly perceive that he fled buskling business, that he hated the clamorous assistance of people/ that he loved nat the crackeling and dynne of the courts, and that he delighted nat in the gethering and frequency of people/ but he joyed to be alone/ & loved very moche tranquillity. Whereto should I now rehearse the examples of man, the which be of less authority? Men say that Pythagoras was taught many secret things in the cave called Ideus. Plato deemed his school of philosophy much more commodious to be kept at Achadamie than within the city of Athens. The poets themself feigned how they had I wot nat what cliffs and dark woddis/ where they wonned or abode, as oft as the divine furor took them: whereby they signify/ that he that desireth to indite or make any noble and goodly ditty/ he must separate himself from company. furthermore to speak of the vulgar people/ we se that gold smiths/ painters/ and other artificers/ in whose workmanship is any thing of singular industry and great cunning/ when they covet to make any thing more exactly & with greater diligence/ they get them to some place/ where the noise and coming and going of folks shall nat trouble them in their works. By all which things/ high is plain and evident to perceive/ that moche company annoyeth & grieveth him right moche: the which intendeth or goeth about to do any thing of great weygth and difficulty. And quiet is right opportune and very necessary for him that will enterprise or go in hand with high and weighty matters. And what is a more higher and a more serious business than it that concerneth thy soul health, and blessed living? Therefore while thou abidest in the world/ thou canst nat commodiously achieve this business. For in what place of the world shalt thou find quiet? But contrary wise good joice/ here in religion/ all things be whishte or in silence/ within/ without/ and every where is perfect peace. The pleasant recess or solytarynes of the place/ is the cause of silence: & peace proceedeth or cometh of a very good and a close mind: And so much the tone needeth the ones help, that if thou take away the tone, thou wouldest think that neither of both remained: For the outward quiet doth cherish/ nourish/ and defend the inward peace: And again the outward quiet without the inward/ would be grievous/ idle/ ye and very hurtful. And only him that hath his mind grievously vexed and troubled/ the poet forbiddeth to be alone/ saying/ 
¶ what ever thou dost hurtful are placis alone  
Beware of sole placis when thou dost moon  
whither wouldest thou than flee or start aside:  
Among company thou mayst more surely bide.   
NOr I may nat here well overpass (all though I intend to be brief/ for it cometh so well to purpose) that same noble exhortation of the philosopher Crates/ the which on a time/ as he beheld and marked a young man/ that wandered all alone hither and thither/ musing and imagining very profoundly upon some thing: asked him what he did there? The young man answered: I talk with myself. Take heed quod Crates/ that thou talk nat with a lewd or a naughty fellow. Each of them answered merrily and quickly. Therefore solitarynes in a person of laudable and good living is commendable: and contrary wise to wicked and mischievous livers/ nothing is more perilous. For than these mischievous caitiffs think on mischief/ than they conceive in their minds most cruel deeds/ and than they treat & revolve unhappy counsels both for themself & other. Yea and what should steer miserable wretches/ to haste to slay themself: if opportunity of solitariness did nat provoke them thereto? Who is he that ever drank poison/ that hanged himself/ that styckte himself/ that broke his neck/ except he were alone? Thou sayst to me: wherefore than dost thou commend to me so much solitariness/ a thing so perilous? Here have I nothing to answer more conveniently than the saying of Crates before remembered: When thou livest by thyself alone/ beware that thou live not with a lewd or a wicked fellow/ & than thou needest nat to dread any thing in solitariness. So depart away from company/ that thou mayst be moche farther of from vices: and look that the places about the be so in silence/ that thy courage and mind gronte nor groudge not. And all be it that I am long in this matter, yet my mind is nat to commend unto thee/ the solytarines of Timon/ I would nat that thou shouldest separate thyself from all mankind/ as he did/ but I would thou shouldest leave unruly company. And as touching the outward quiet I have spoken sufficiently. Now I will briefly entreat of the inward peace/ the which like as it resteth or consisteth in the mind/ so it proceedeth or cometh from a good and a pure mind from vice. For virtue is of such strength or effect/ that it quieteth or setteth at rest the mind or courage/ wherein it remaineth/ with an incredible peasablenesse/ ye & it expelleth or avoideth all pensiveness/ horror/ dread/ and perturbation. What a thing virtue is/ thou shalt better understand/ if thou list to be hold/ what griefs/ what trouble's/ and what vexations a wicked mind endureth. For he that is a thief/ a deceiver of the people/ a whore monger/ a traitor/ a ravisher of women/ an adulteror/ or other wise a mischievous caitiff/ his conscience for the wicked deeds doth oppress him so/ that he is all to tossed and tumbled with perpetual care & dread. The very shape or form of his wicked and mischievous deeds/ like as it were the horrible furies of Helle/ run upon him/ they fiercely assail and invade him both sleeping & waking. At every thing he waxeth pale/ he is afraid of every bush/ but namely he dreadeth suspection/ whistering/ infamy/ judgement/ & punishment. But admit, that he setteth nought by all these things/ and can deceive the conscience of men/ and that he dreadeth nat all mighty god: yet when shall he bring it so to pass/ that he may escape the smart prickings or grudgings of his own conscience? That shall he never do. For what so ever thing he would do/ or whither so ever he would flee/ the same cruel torments/ shut with in his breast/ will nat leave him/ they appear still before him/ they toss and turmoil him/ they make him afraid/ nor they will nat suffer his meat/ the light of the day/ no nor his life to be joyous to him/ ye and lastly they make his very natural rest or sleep unquiet to him. Hereof very often times cometh leans of the body: this causeth ugly and fierce countenance/ of this cometh the filthiness of the eyes: and hereof riseth fear of every thing: whereby they be wont to discover and bewray themself: the which thing is right well and justly ordained of god that most righteous judge/ to th'intent that no man should commit an jewel deed/ and be utterly unpunished: For suspeciousnes is wont forthwith to follow foul and ill deeds/ the which first of all doth greatly punish the misdoer/ and there upon talkings and infamy doth follow/ the which undoubted many judge for so great a mischief/ that they had leaver die than live and endure them. But some be drowned so deep in sin/ that they set naught by such things. Admit it be as the common saying is/ that as moche as their wickedness is/ so moche is their fortune/ and that no man accuseth them/ nor no judge meddleth with them: yet I say there shallbe one in time to come/ the which will sore and rigorously punish them. Yea but those things be far of say they/ as though they were sure and certain/ to live that space of one hour. But admit it be as they do say/ yet for all that even now while they be alive/ they be inwardly tormented and punished with their conscience/ the which pricketh so sharply and so bitterly/ that there is no wicked deed can cause so great pleasure/ that it should be bought with such turmentis. Who could ever sufficiently dame/ how cruel the disturbance of the breast is/ when the self mind with a sharp sedition stryvethe with itself/ and some partis thereof inclining some way/ is stricken/ haled/ plucked/ torren/ and rend/ the memory accuseth/ reason iuggeth/ and conscience punisheth. Reason calleth one way/ and nature an other way/ and the pleasure of sin an other way: whereof are engendered perpetual pryckynges/ perpetual brawlings/ and perpetual war. Wherefore it is thought that certain doctors of the church have said very well/ the which judged/ that the Remorse of conscience/ that accompanieth and goeth with the sinners unto hell/ was nat the least part of the punishments/ that they suffer there. The which things Juvenal right ornatly (as he doth every thing) descryveth as followeth: 

¶ Than what is the cause tell me now why  
That thou supposest, how thou hast scaped well  
The troublous motions of thy mind inwardly  
By grouge of thy conscience that the doth appeal  
And fore the accuseth, and cruelly doth deal.  
In thy secret thoughts of privy pensiveness  
Scourging the with scourges of boteles bitterness   

¶ Remorse of conscience is of such vehemens  
That it is the pain most painful of all pains  
So savage, so raging, so sour of experience  
So doggedly gnawing, so troubling man's brains  
That where so remorse of conscience remains  
Ceditius that judge, nor Radamant judge of Hell  
Did never such punishment with pains half so fell   

¶ For who so is vexed of conscience with remorse  
Sleeping or waking by day and by night  
Out of his heart no chance can it divorce  
This penitent penance perpetually doth fight  
eating or drynsring it is ever in thy sight  
Thy throat so with thought it doth both stop & fret  
That scantly thou canst eat, nor swallow down thy meat.    
And so forth most eloquently and truly he proceedeth. And like wise as the same things be proved by reason and authority/ even so thereof may be showed a thousand examples: but because we will nat tarry long in rehearsing of many/ three shall suffice us now: of the which the first shallbe taken out of fables/ the second out of the roman histories/ and the third out of holy scripture. What other thing doth it signify/ after Orestes had slain his mother/ he was taken with spirits (which commonly are called furies) and was so sore vexed with them/ that whither so ever he fled/ he always met them shoving fire brands against him: than that he/ the which committeth any mischievous deed is tormented and vexed with the remorse of conscience/ as though he were taken with a frenzy? Certainly many things have been right counnyngly invented of the poetis/ but after mine opinion/ none more apt or fitter than this. And therefore it repenteth me nat to rehearse this fable here. And what thing is more evident than the example of Lucius Sylla? This man as I read. was cruel out of all measure: so that it is a thing right miserable to tell how many he banished/ or commanded to be slain: and also he was nat a little garnished or decked with other vices. But of this tyrant/ the very self malice that was in him/ took vengeance/ the which no man else could do. For he was so tormented and vexed with the conscience of his ill and wicked deeds/ that by no wit nor help of physicians he could not recover again his sleep/ that he had lost: and so at the last he died of the most filthy disease called the lousy evil. The old and manifest example of Cain doth yet remain. We read that he being moved with envy/ slew his brother/ but he did it nat unpunished. For he was punished forth with/ and that diversly/ but no way more cruelly/ nor more mortaliye/ than of conscience. The remorse of conscience for his wicked deed was to him more grievous/ than any other punishment that god his creator took. Our lord god rebuked him yea he rather reclaimed him/ to cause him to take repentance and to confess his offence: but he the wretched caitiff esteemed his sin greater than could be forgiven. God granted him his life, but he judged himself unworthy to live. What a vengeable tormentor think ye thus cruelly vexed his stomach? What sweet or pleasant thing suppose ye could chance him in his life/ the which being sore grieved with himself/ and dispeiring of himself/ as one all heavy and pensive deeming his life to him bitter and sour/ he dread and was ashamed to come abroad in the sight of folks? For he went that all other had been such to him as he was himself. Thus ye see good joice/ what torments/ what defilings/ what grudgingis/ what trouble's/ and what braydes a wicked and a sinful mind endureth. Now take heed and mark/ how restful/ how peaceable/ and how pleasant a thing it is to have a clear and an uncumbered conscience/ and for no guilt to wax pale? What thing is it that can disturb or trouble his mind that is well settled and ordered? What thing of right aught he to dread? Should he be a gast of any man? Certainly he needeth nat to dread though man be his enemy/ that is wholly bent on god his friend. Shall calamities and miseries make him afraid? No truly. For he reckoneth them to be his winnings. But shall he live in dread of death/ the which also he gladly desireth and wisheth fore? Finally/ shall he nat fear god himself? No truly. For he hopeth and surely trusteth/ that he is in god's favour and keeping. What can be thought more restful quiet/ more uncareful or more happy/ than this thing? joice/ one may feel or perceive it/ but plainly it will nat be declared. peraventure/ thou art so blessed or happy/ that thou haste already living in the world/ the selfsame thing that I call the unto. And I verily trust that thou hast. But my mind is/ that so much the rather thou shouldest fly and leave the world. For here in religion/ thou shalt find and have it more heapingly/ and far more surer. What thing maketh the so careless/ that thou wilt bear so dear a treasure among thieves? If thou have aught/ it shall increase here in religion/ but in the world is continual fear/ lest thou forego it: Here most specially is the ilk inward peace: and except the outward quiet be here/ it is no where. In the world is no inward peace/ and as for outward peace/ if there be any/ it is very scant/ and nat very sure. And this is certain/ that the religious houses reduce the ill men to goodness/ and they that be good it maketh better: But contrary wise/ the world is wont to make good men ill/ and ill men worse.   

Of the pleasure that is in solitary life. The xi Chap.  
IN discriving of tranquillity or quiet, I have been more brief than the thing required/ and yet therein I was more prolix than I thought to have been: Now I will as shortly as may be/ declare or entreat of pleasure/ the which thing only remaineth undeclared. Undoubted all folks are so obstinately inclined to pleasure/ that for no manner evils they can be feared from it/ nor no reason can withdraw them from it? And peraventure it is nat without great skele the Epicure saith/ mortal creatures in the judgement of pleasures do err moche: but yet all creatures by one assent/ some by one mean & some by an other/ seek for pleasures. So that for this cause most specially secular or worldly folks are wont/ both to fly and hate the institution of our life: the which they repute to be hard/ straight/ grievous/ painful/ and clean without pleasure. But to the end that this error should nat abash or make them aghast/ I shall plainly declare/ that it is far other wise. Yea our life is so moche without pleasure/ that I durst entice to us all the delicate Sardanapals/ as to a paradise of all delights & pleasures. Thou wilt object and say: yea faith/ pleasure is in monasteries/ like as the delphin is taken in the woods/ and the wild bore hunted in the see. I assure the good joice/ that all the manner of our life is pleasant. Thou askest me how that should be: & I shall show the how. Epicure denieth those things to be pleasures/ the which be cause of greater griefs. We keep no drabs/ nor live not in adultery: nor we feed nat/ nor ingurge nat ourself/ like as the wanton prodigal fellows are wont to do: we be sober at the son going down/ and sober when the son riseth/ the which thing they can nat say. For those things are never in so good plight/ but they be cause of more grief than delight. Nor we neither can nor covet to be enriched: nor to be ennobled by any high magistrate or room. Nor in these things we omit nat the mastership of Epicure. For saying that they cause little pleasure & moche grief, me seemeth we do wisely, in that that we will nat buy a small commodity with a greater inconvenience. More over Epicure teacheth/ that other while sorrows must be ventured on/ or taken well in worth/ to the end that greater and more grievouser dolours may be fled & eschewed. And like wise oft times we must forbear small pleasures, to th'end that we may obtain greater. What speak ye of us? We religious men suffer and gladly endure watching/ fasting/ solitariness/ silence/ and such like things/ to th'end that we would nat sustain greater sorrows. We be nat dashed full of sweet savours/ we sit not bolling & drinking all the day/ we dance nor revel nat/ we loiter nat about/ whither so ever fond lust calleth us/ nor we set nat our fantasy on such like foolish toys: but would to god thou coudeste see & behold with what great advantage we want those things. Hadst thou thought that we had for gone pleasure? Nay we have nat so done/ but we have made a change/ yea in such a wise/ that for a few and small pleasures/ we have received many great pleasures. Me thought now welyore/ that these/ picked/ delicate fellows gave an ear/ on trust that I would show some new invention of pleasure: and for certain so I will. But in the mean time I would they should withdraw their minds from foul stinking & unleeful pleasures/ the which they use with beasts in commune. I would they should for sake their beastilynes'/ and understand/ that in man is some what more higher and more divine, where unto their delectation should be rather applied than unto the body. For saying that in beasts there is nothing more noble than the body/ it is nat unskelfull/ that their felicity resteth in filling of their bellies and in bodily lust. But the condition or state of man is more worthy/ than that he should esteem himself to be borne for none other cause than beasts be. For man is nat only made and compact of the body but also of the soul. In body/ save only in shape/ we differ nothing from beasts: but in the soul we resemble very much the divine and eternal nature. The body is a thing earthy/ beastly/ slow/ mortal/ sickly/ caduke/ uncrafty/ and unnoble: Contrary wise/ the soul is a thing heavenly/ divine/ immortal/ perpetual/ pure/ and noble. Therefore as much as the body is lower and under the soul in dignity/ so moche more the pleasure of the soul should excel the wanton and lewd lusts of the body. For that pleasure/ like the soul itself/ is perpetual/ never loathsome/ pure/ honest/ divine/ & healthful. Contrary wise/ the bodily pleasures/ be deceivable/ soon vanishing/ loathsome more sour than sweet/ foul/ and deadly. But it is impossible to enjoy the pleasure of the body & of the soul both at ones. The one must needs be foregone. What would Epicure say to this/ if one asked him counsel? Forsooth that we should expel and put away from us those filthy and foul lusts of the body/ that they let us nat to obtain/ the sweet and most excellent pleasures of the soul. The which thing (as I have said) is nat away to lose/ but greatly to win pleasures. But me think thou lookest that I should tell/ with what pleasures of the soul we be fed here. first as Epicure saith/ whose authority I will nat yet forego, to want the horrible vexation and grudge of an unclean conscience/ is the greatest pleasure that can be. For he hath nat a little to rejoice of/ that hath nothing to be sorry fore. Farther/ is nat the contemplation of heavenly and immortal delectations/ unto the which we hope once by God's grace to come/ a thing of great pleasure. Who is so blonte of understanding/ that when he being weary of this life/ doth remember the felicity celestial/ will nat weep for very joy? Whose mind is so aggrieved and oppressed with heaviness & sorrow/ the which when he remembreth the life to come/ doth nat rise up/ and waxeth very gladsome/ yea and would fain be out of this world? What & one might taste and savour these things? For all be it that they/ to whom the world is as yet savoury/ can find no savour or sweetness in them/ yet unto holy and well disposed minds there is nothing more surely approved. And though that the great joy and pleasure of the life that is reserved in time to come/ can nat be perceived/ be fore the soul departing out of this ill filthy/ and unsweet prison of the body/ resort thither again/ from whence it came: yet never the less/ me seemeth that good devout minds have a smack and some perceiving thereof/ and are wet as it were with a dew of heavenly showers: and of that same light that never shall fail/ they see as it were a glymering or a glance. The which thing how great a pleasure it is, it can nat be persuaded unto him that is ignorant & unexpert thereof: but unto them that be expert therein/ it can nat be esteemed nor spoken how pleasant it is. And all though (as saint bernard saith) these delights are but other while/ and are wont to tarry but a short space: yet are they so great/ that if all the pleasures of this world were laid together on a heap/ in regard of these they would seem little worth/ yea and not to be set by. And if there were no other rewards/ for good deeds to be hoped fore (which thing is far other wise) yet forsooth it would never grieve me/ for this only hire or meed to suffer and endure all manner labours/ and would dame them so worthy/ that to th'intent to obtain them/ I would nat only despice and set nought by all other lustis and delights of this world/ but also bid them battle. Go to than/ what mow we suppose & think that the great plenty or abundance of these joys would do/ if a little smack or a very thin savour of them so moche delighteth/ so recreateth/ and maketh one so joyful? O/ how great a pleasure shall it be/ when that divine light shall shine over & over us, the which can nat be seen but with most purified eyes: so that we also shall all shine bright: seeing that a little glymering or a glance thereof/ the which quickly cometh and vanisheth/ causeth so great pleasure? furthermore/ that sweetness/ that the holy ghost many times secretly entering in to the clean & pure minds causeth/ how oft in the most chaste chambre he embraceth and clippeth his spouse/ languishing in his love/ and lamenting as lovers are wont that love fervently/ with most gentle & friendly familiarity/ doth comfort and cheer her: this great sweetness I say/ whereto should I remember? Let them rehearse it that have knowledge thereof. But they know it and that happily/ the which pleased god should have experience. I am unworthy as yet to be admitted to come to these delights: or though I have a little sklenderly tasted thereof/ yet I had rather tell it by other than by myself. And though it be more certain to tell it by myself/ yet it is more comely that I show it by other. I have hard some say many times with weeping tears/ that these worldly pleasures/ the which unto foolish bragging fellows savour so well/ have seemed unto them so bitter and so sour/ that their mind hath nat only abhorred those things/ but also their ears to here speak of them/ as when the use of bread was found/ acorns began to be loathed and naught set by: so the false delights began to wax loathsome to them/ after they had taken a taste of the very true pleasures. But alas very many worldly people of that rustical and blounte sort/ have taken such a smack in this swinish feeding/ that nothing save their acorns can savour unto them. Nor they understand nat what iocundyte of light there may be/ or why they should desire to live here in this world/ if the acorns/ that is to say the voluptie and pleasure of the belly and mouth/ should be taken away from them. And therefore so often as they see us religious men take such labours and pain as they suppose they could nat endure/ & yet to be more lusty/ more merry/ and in better plight and liking than they be that do nothing else but banquet and make good cheer/ they marvel out of all measure: Nor they can nat perceive how we should have any pleasure/ after we have forsaken and thrown away from us the delectations and pleasures of the flesh. And yet these men see tender young men and also delicate virgins/ they see their years and shap/ and they remember/ how soft and wanton they were a little before cherished and brought up: and on the other side they leave nat unremembered/ if in our religious life be any thing sharp/ grievous or painful/ as solitariness/ labour/ watch/ fasting/ and such like things. They see that it is nat only leeful unto these young children to leave and forsake this manner of life/ but also with what great instance of their parents and friends/ they be enticed/ monished/ prayed/ and vehemently stired to forsake their religion: But contrary wise/ the more they be persuaded/ the more obstinate they be. Their mother that weepeth and waylethe they comfort and bid to be of good cheer/ with their eyen dry: Their sister colling them about the neck/ they shake of and despice: And from their most dear play feres/ from whom but a little before to be absent a day/ was a very hard thing/ they be now right easily all their life during plucked away. Finally they take their leave and bid fare well with so merry a countenance/ & kiss at their last parting with so glad cheer/ that no man that is by/ though he be a stranger can forbear weeping. It pleaseth me here (and I pray the be nat aggrieved therewith) to remember the heavy and lamentable supper/ which was the last supper/ that Margerete the good virgin/ the which I loved as she had been mine own sister/ had with her parents and friends. I was there present the same time/ and so were many more as well as I/ the which the maiden had desired to come thither/ to th'intent/ that by our procuration and help she might obtain of her father/ that that she had frustratly or in vain desired of him vi years day before/ that was to give her leave to be an nun. For she had than gotten her mother's good will. And yet to say the truth/ this difficulty of either of them/ did nat chance of any vice. For like as they were in their country both reputed & of lineage with the best, even so they were in virtue: that there was no man but that he did both love and praise them/ which thing is rathe or seldom seen in them that be in wealth and felicity: But they be so tender over and love their children so/ as though they greatly loved them. So we began to entreat & persuade her father. What should I make many words? He being overcome partly with shamefastness/ partly with pity and compassion of his daughter/ and partly with our egging, granted her request. But than thou shouldest suddenly have seen there a right miserable sight. The father in colling and kissing of his daughter/ began so to lament and weep/ as though she should forth with have been laid in her grave. Her mother for very sorrow fell down deed in all wound. Her only brother and her sister that was a little elder than she/ weeping & crying out/ embraced their dear sister/ and said: By these our weeping tears/ & for what so ever brotherly and systerly pite and tender love may do/ we pray you sweet sister/ that ye forsake us nat thus your miserable brother and sister/ least that you being but one destroy us twain. The other friends wept, some privily, some openly/ some entreated/ some persuaded/ and some blamed or rebuked: but there was none among them all/ but that the tears ran from his eyen. And we also that came to entreat for the maid/ were so moved/ what with the weeping of other that were there, and with the lamentation of her father from whose eyes the tears ran as he had been a child/ began like wise to weep/ the which thing though I say it/ beseemed us not. Yea and it almost repent us/ that we had gone so far in the matter. What trow ye did the young virgin this while/ the which considering her sex or kind/ her tender age/ her soft nature and bringing up/ was so delicate? saint Paul himself when he took leave to departed from his brethren/ showed that he was moved with their weeping/ though it were nat greatly/ saying/ what do ye weeping and troubling mine heart? But the virgin (all though she was of a great pity or meekness to her father & mother) with her eyes dry/ a merry cheer/ and smiling on her father/ she said/ that he had no cause to be so vexed and grieved/ but he ought rather to rejoice and be glad/ as he that had nat lost his daughter/ but as he that was sure to find her, the which should pray to god for him. She also endeavoured herself diligently/ with kissing/ praying/ and pratye exhortation to ease and appease her mother's heavy heart/ and other that were there. But all was in vain: for they drove forth and prolonged the supper with sighing and sobbing/ weeping/ and complaining/ till it was very late in the night/ and except Margarete/ there was nat one merry among them all. So often as they see these things (for they must needs see such things other while) I mean these fellows/ the which as I have said/ been all given to bodily pleasure/ they weep with the other/ they marvel at the stoutness & strength of their young minds/ yea and are ashamed of their own soft delycacy. What suppose they? deem they these years, these merry countinances, these bodies/ and these stomachs/ to be so soon inclined, yea so utterly to set nought by the pleasures of the world/ except they found other/ that be to them more leaver? Would they so obstinately/ and with so good a courage take these labours upon them/ if they did nat know very well/ that they be sweet and pleasant? So it is good joice/ so it is plainly: a thing that is sweet and pleasant to them that be expert therein/ seemeth sour and hard to them that be unexpert thereof. But how long shall it be ere thou persuade these fellows to believe thee? For as saint bernard saith/ they se our crosses/ but they see nat our unctions: Truly I would they had a better mind/ ne were it that they have a pleasure frantyckely to err/ like as Argiws did/ of whom Flaccus speaketh. But seeing that we be nat far from the error of Argive/ I will plainly persuade the. Would to god that I might leefully have my wish/ that like as this my writing shall come before thy sight/ that so mine affection might enter in to thy mind/ that is to say/ that thou shouldest be so affectioned/ when thou readest it/ as I was when I wrote it. Than here I would make an end of mine epistle: & would think that I needed nat to spend many more words to persuade the. But peraventure because that, that I desire is frustrate or in vain and that mine authority is nat sufficient to persuade that/ I will bring forth saint Hieronym, the which by reason of his good and holy life/ was a man of great gravity/ and by reason of his cunning/ a very noble man. I pray the tell me most holy man/ what dost thou in this sharp and comforteles desert alone/ all most deed for hunger/ so lean with continual watching, and wasted away with so great labours/ haste thou no iocundite or pleasure of thy life? O/ saith he/ while I was in wilderness/ in that great desert/ the which being burned and parched with the heat of the son/ is but a very course and a hard harborough for monks/ how often times thought I myself to be among the delitis and pleasures in Rome? And I take god to witness/ that after many a weeping tear/ and after that I had long looked upward to heaven in contemplation/ me thought many times that I was among a great sort of angels/ and being glad and joyful. I sang thus/ Post te in odorem unguentorum tuorum curtemus, In the smell of thy sweet savours we will run after the. Haste thou hard good joice/ what this holy man confesseth here? I could recite other to witness the same/ but either we must give credence to him or else to no man: And this same pleasure every good, devout/ and well disposed soul hath & enjoyeth. Yet besides these things/ excellent learned men have an other special pleasure/ that is as oft as they read the inditings of most noble writers/ or else when they themself write things for other to read: or else when they revolve in their mind such things as they have red. This kind of pleasure is so variable and so abundante/ that it shall never seem tedious or make the weary. For if they list to drink of the first fountains/ than they resort to the volumes of the old and new testament. If that verity/ of itself honestly arrayed/ and hyghted with the fresh garment of eloquence/ doth delight them/ they run to saint Hieronyme/ saint Augustine/ saint Ambrose/ Cyprian and such other. If those be nat eloquent enough to thy mind/ and hast a lust to here some christian Cicero: take and put Lactantius Firmianus in thy bosom. And in case that thou canst be content with less costly apparel/ and sober far/ than take in thy hand Thomas/ Albert/ and such like books. But & thou canst nat belong absent from the other thine old friends, yet hardily visette those to/ now and than among/ so that it be guessed wile & not as one of household. For among those is she the barbarous woman/ but yet she hath a very honest countenance: the which when thou hast ravished & cut away her hears and nails/ thou shalt of a drab make her thy lawful wife. Lo/ thus thou hast the secret and many volumes of holy scripture, thou hast the monumentis of the holy prophets/ of the apostles/ of their interpreters/ and of the doctors/ thou hast the writings of the philosophers and poetis/ the which should nat be eschewed of him, that knoweth how to choose the wholesome herbs among those that are venomous. Tell me/ what time thou art conversant among these things/ quietly at rest in thy study/ and at thine own liberty/ void of all care and trouble/ doth it nat seem that thou dwellest in a paradise of all delights & pleasures? what place can be tedious/ where so great variety is? What thing is here/ that is nat full of pleasure? How gladsomely grow the fair feldis and meadows? How pleasantly lustreth or showeth the fresh green grass, depainted with divers colours of flowers? In that place groweth the beautiful red rose/ there spring the lilies as white as any snow/ there be the banks of the lusty purple violets/ there groweth the brown time/ that smelleth so sweetly. Nor there wanteth no fair woods/ with broad hanging bows and branches/ that maketh a right delectable shadow/ wherein we may defend us from the fervent heat of the day. Farther/ what number of trees be there/ that bear fruit nat only delicious in taste/ but (which is more) very wholesome to eat? And very near there unto runneth the clear crystalline river/ that maketh a doulce mourmour or noise in running/ the which watereth and moisteth all together. This most deep river/ I say/ the which the prophet marveling at can nat be over come. Within these pleasant orchards thou mayst room and wander to and fro/ yea I may say thou mayst wanton sport and play the as oft as thou wilt. What like pleasure is in your dancings/ in your taverns and ale houses/ and in your baths or hot houses? To these things good joice/ I call thee/ as he that is excellently learned and studious. Yea I desire thee/ as my special and dear friend, to come unto these pleasures. Is there any thing behind/ that may tarry the in the world/ or else make the afraid to come to us? Thou hast well understand/ how mortal/ how bitter/ and how sour the lewd lusts or false enticements of the world be: the which (as Seneca saith) embrace and clip us/ to th'end that they may strangle or shaken us. Thou haste also hard/ how little goodness is in the worldly riches, and how unsteadfast and deceivable they be. And as I suppose, it is sufficiently showed, in to what calamities and miseries the worldly honours do headlong overthrow a man.  
furthermore, it hath been declared, how untreatable the necessity of death is. Finally, I have remembered unto thee, how full of peril and danger this life is: and unto what grievous and painful labours it is subject. Go now and questenne with thyself, whether thou hadst leaver stick still in these evils, or else throw them away/ and flee hither. And contrary to these things, haste thou nat hard what liberty, what quiet, what pleasure, and what sure trust is in religion? And yet for all that, thou fleest nat thither? Dost thou yet stay/ dost thou yet take deliberation/ dost thou yet prolong forth the time? Leave to the Egypcions their pottiss of flesh, that thou mayst be fed with manna in the wilderness. But thou sayst, it is a hard thing to be drawn away from their company, that a man most dearly loveth/ and to overcome the affections of friends. Ay good joice, thou callest it a hard thing/ take heed that thou be nat rather tender and soft. Beware lest young children boys and maids, to whom this matter doth seem nothing hard, cock up against the and say these words: Sayest that thou art unable to do that that we can away with? Why hast thou a beard? Why art thou called a man? What avail thy years of age? And wherefore serveth thy erudition and learning? Think nat, that any thing is more foe or enemy to thee, than such friends/ the which labour to let or hinder thy health? The which friends/ if error be cause of their offence, or else dote in love/ dost thou desire to doote with them? Or if by sad advise/ and prudently pondering the matter/ they let and hinder thee/ for what manner of friends wilt thou dame them/ when they covet nat it that is best for thee? But thou sayest to lead an angels life, and live in the flesh passeth man's power. Finally/ when a man can nat live after his own fashion, but must do every thing as an other shall command him/ or else to be led after the lust and pleasure of an other, is sooner said than done. Truly I will nat deny this thing, for I am nat ignorant that man's life on earth is a warfare. But if there be any grief or difficulty in a matter, that one goth in hand with, it is wont moste commonly to be in the entrance or beginning, the which if thou mayst once stoutly break or overcome, thou haste scaped: Hit is long ago commonly said: He hath achieved half his work or business, that hath begun aright. But truly he that doth well begin here, doth well near make an end. But the first entrance abasheth the. I know how to deliver the of this fearfulness. If it grieve thy mind to be plucked away from the pleasures of the world/ remember inwardly the eternal delectations and pleasures. If religion seem grievous and painful to thee, have a respect to the pains everlasting. No punishment should be grievous unto thee/ whereby thou mayst avoid everlasting pains: nor for no pleasure here to forego the celestial pleasure. Finally/ nothing shall be hard/ that one willingly will do: Nor doubt not but thou shalt bring well to pass/ what soever thou ghost about, so that christ be helping thereunto.   

How one ought to enter in to religion with good deliberation and advisement. The xii and last Chapter.  
I Saw the well ere truss up thy bag and baggage and so prepare thyself ready, as though thou wouldest in all the hast flee unto us. But to the end that thou shouldest nat be to hasty/ I will briefly give the monition or warning before hand/ lest it should happen unto the as it doth to many now a days/ the which repent them that they went in to religion for this cause/ that they as it were in to a deep pit/ that one can nat get out of/ went nat softly and advisedly down/ but leapt even at all adventures. No man is constrained to Christis profession/ but no man may return or go from it: for without it there is no hope of salvation. But in other institutions and orders of the life/ the which for a time men have invented/ because of the great variety that is in men's bodies and minds/ and so great alteration of all human things/ peradventure it were nat expedient/ so to bind any man/ that it should nat be leeful for him to go back/ so that the change make and be more for his soul health/ that changes. But seeing that they will have it other wise/ by whose arbitrement the world is governed/ this business should be taken on hand more circumspectly/ the which thing once entered and professed, can nat be changed or revoked, at his liberty/ that entereth therein. The monasteries in old time were none other thing/ but certain solitary places of good and virtuous men: the which either for grief and weariness of the volupties and vices/ with the which in those days the life of mortal creatures was contaminate and defiled: for at that season the christian people and the paynims lyvedde mingled together: or else being aggrieved with the cruelty of persecution/ they forsook the cities and towns, & withdrew themself in to mountains without ways/ where they led a life angelical. Their apparel or clothing was poor and little worth/ their fare was slender/ such as lightly they missed nat to find in every place/ wherewith they spent away all their time either in singing of holy ymmes, or in holy reading/ or in heavenly talkings/ or in devout prays/ or in deeds of charity, wherewith they refreshed the sick and wayfaring folks/ or else in innocent works/ with the which they holp and succoured the indygente and needy. Nor a monk was none other thing than a pure christian man. Nor a monastery was none other thing/ than a flock or a company/ the which had conspired or consented together/ to follow the most pure doctrine of christ. There was no sovereign commandment: every man gladly and with good will, yea and that quickly did their duty/ and they had than more need to be refrained than pricked forward. Their extreme punishment was a friendly and a brotherly correction. How many monasteries be in the mids of the world/ nor they be noon other wise out of the world/ than the reins be out of a man's body. In the which the discipline of religion doth flourish in such a wise/ that they be none other thing than Schools of impiety. To whom the title and habit of religion serveth for none other purpose/ than that it should be leeful for them without punishment to do what ever they list. And unto them/ to whose prudence the world would nat commit their ketchyns/ the business of the church is delivered. And truly among these things/ wherein the discipline of religion doth flourish/ there is some difference. Some institution or order of the life is more metre for some one man than for some other. And therefore it behoveth the first to search and make a proof of thyself/ and when thou knowest what thou mayst away with/ than with good advisement/ chose an order of living that is nat unknown unto thee/ according to saint Paul's saying/ Prove all things/ and hold the unto that/ that is good. Many one entereth in to religion for none other intent/ but to live more commodyously at their pleasure/ minding more the belly than the soul. And so those that very indigence and need to live honestly in the world/ should have induced to use frugality/ to have been diligent, and industrious, in monasteries they give themself to sleuth and luxure. And those that were in the world very poor and of low degree/ under the profession of poverty they imitate and follow the pomp, the sumptuousness, and stately array of princes and great lords. And those that should have been contented with one wife/ and have suffered the incommodities and griefs of Matrimony/ now freely and with good leave/ they wallow in every kind of stupre or carnal lust. And those that afore time the fear of the laws and governors/ did restrain from doing of evil and sinful deeds/ as exempted from the jurisdiction of the bishop, and of the rulers of the common wealth/ they have a more liberty to sin and offend. So that by feigned profession of poverty/ they flee poverty: by feigned profession of chastity/ they provide for their carnal lust: and by feigned profession of obedience/ they find the mean/ that they will be constrained to obey no man. Farther more/ there be other/ the which by some chance were driven to this manner of life: One because he could not obtain the favour of some maid/ that he vehemently loved: an other because he was stricken with great fear in the time of a tempest/ of a sickness/ or of an other peril/ he made such a vow. Some be drawn to religion by one that hath been afore time their dearly beloved companion. Some with shameful eggings/ as it were buguls be drawn in to the ditch by the nostrils. Some also be trust in to religion by their unkind and ungentle parentis: or else by their tutors/ to the intent to be eased of their cost and charge: they most specially lay await to attrape and deceive the simple youth/ the which is very easy to beguile. But I would counsel the clean contrary/ that rude and ignorant youth should nat be wrapped in an institution, out of the which they can nat be drawn back again. One ought to be a christian man betimes/ and a monk at leiser/ how be it he is a monk at the full/ who so ever be a pure christian man. Nor there be nat a few/ the which be led to religion by superstition/ or else by folishenes'/ the which being ignorant in what thing the very religion resteth/ seem as they think themself/ gay monks/ if they wear a girdle or a hood. And therefore thou shouldest marvel never a deal/ though thou see them more lewd and wicked after they have professed religion/ than they were before. Thus mine own good joice/ when thou haste got the knowledge and understanding/ what thing the true religion is/ after thou haste assayed/ thy wit/ thy body/ and thy mind/ and when thou hast spied out a kind of living meet for thy purpose: and when thou haste found out a fellowship/ the which all together with one assent/ have fully determined their minds to live after Christ: than get the thither. But look that thou leave all covetousness of this world at home: for other wise it were frustrate or a thing in vain to forsake the world/ if thou shouldest carry the world with the in to the same monastery. Carry no manner of delectations of Egypt with thee/ if thou wilt speed the to the land that floweth or aboundeth with milk and honey. Many think themself the very followers of saint Antony/ and of saint Paul/ if they haunt no drabs/ nor use no dancing/ nor will nat be drunken/ though they with in forth be all to moist or sprinkled with hatred/ envy/ detraction/ poisonful words/ and are proud and stately of conditions/ froward/ and untreatable/ and are lovers of themself: and for their winning and advantage they openly flatter great princes: and wittingly and of afore cast they suffer the glory of Christ to be obscured and blotted out/ to th'end that they may procure their own glory. incest/ that is to say carnal copulation utterly prohibited or foul pollution is a slanderous crime/ and yet I trow they be nat clear of those vices: but this flattery passeth an hundred incestis/ and the mischief thereof spreadeth most largely over all mankind. Now peradventure thou wilt say to me/ that all monasteries displease thee: nor there can be found no where a flock/ that hath with pure minds consented to live after Christ. But yet look that thou so leave and forsake the world/ that thou mayst accompany thyself with who so ever be most innocent: and repute thyself to be in a monastery/ where so ever thou be conversant among them/ that love troth/ pure chastity/ sobrenes/ and temperance/ and do both in word and deed express the same. Nor thou shouldest nat think, that there wanteth any thing for the to vow/ if thou accomplish and fulfil the vow that thou madest to Christ at thy christening. Nor thou shouldest nat desire the habit of the white frere or else of the black/ if thou observe and keep clean undefiled/ the fair white vesture or garment that was delivered to the in baptism. Nor be nat disposed with thyself/ though thou be nat of the flock of black friars or white, so that thou be of the flock of true Christian people.  
Thus farewell mine own good joice.  
¶ Finis.   

¶ Imprinted at London in Fleetstreet/ in the house of Thomas Berthelet/ printer to the kings most noble grace. And be to sell in Paul's churchyard. Cum privilegio.