Fens Fruits: WHICH WORK IS divided into three several parts; The first, A Dialogue between Fame and the Scholar, no less pleasant than pithy: wherein is deciphered the property of Temperance, the mutablitie of Honour, the inconstancy of Fortune, the uncertainty of Life, and the reward of aspiring minds: proved both by the examples of sundry Princes, and sayings of worthy Philosophers.  
The second, entreateth of the lamentable ruins which attend on War: also, what politic Stratagems have been used in times past: necessary for these our dangerous days.  
The third, that it is not requisite to derive our pedigree from the unfaithful Troyans', who were chief causes of their own destruction: whereunto is added Hecuba's mishaps, discoursed by way of apparition.  
Qui nuclium esse vult, nucem frangat, oportet.  
Imprinted at London for Richard Olive: and are to be sold at his shop in Paul's Churchyard, at the sign of the Crane. 1590.   

To the Worshipful Robert Spencer Esquire, Son and heir to the Right Worshipful Sir john Spencer Knight: Thomas fen wisheth increase of Worship, with the preservation of desired health, etc.  
THE Persians in time past, and also, by credible report at this day (right Worshipful) at vacant and idle times, when they are not busied in the affairs of their common wealth, nor troubled in their own private matters, use commonly to whittle small twigs of birch, to keep themselves from vain imaginations and idle cogitations, but nothing either profitable to the weal public, or to their private persons. In like manner, Domitianus an Emperor of Rome, was wont to busy himself with pricking and thrusting flies through with needles, in his window: so that this reproachful proverb sprang up of his so vain spending the time: for when any of his subjects demanded who was in the Emperor's presence (if he than were not about his foolish labour) his servants would answer, ne musca quidem, not so much as a fly: which commonly was spoken after a reproachful sense. Therefore Sir, for the avoiding of such unprofitable labours, and also for the shunning of blamable idleness, in spending my time about such fruitless toys, and frivolous toils, I trust I have after a better sort employed my vacant times, not in whitling or shaving of sticks, nor in killing of flies, neither as Myrmecidas Milesius, or Callicrates Lacedemonius did, who spent and consumed a great time in making a small wagon, to be drawn with two couples of horses, which might easily be hidden under the compass of a sly, and wrote in a little small berry, no bigger than a bean, a posy of two verses in letters of gold: which fruitless toil (although it was finished with diligent care, and cunning hand) was wonderfully scoffed and derided at amongst the wiser sort of men, for wasting the time so vainly about such toys, as neither profited themselves, nor was any commodity at all to the common wealth. It is further reported (right worshipful) that Satyrus, a certain bagpiper, being present at the Philosopher Aristos disputations, finding what sweet method, and pithy sentences, were included in his learned sayings, said: 

Cur ego non ignitrado, hoc mihi inutile telum?   

Why do not I vile hairebraine fool,  
Commit to fire this fruitless tool?    
In like sort myself conferring with my books, at convenient leisure, finding what profit is reaped thereby, and taking pleasure in the sweet harmony and pleasant melody of the wise sayings of the learned Philosophers, am constrained with Satyrus to lay a side and cast of all vain toys, and superfluous toils, until my mind be sufficiently satisfied with their learned conference. But for that convenient leisure, and vacant times always at will are not commonly incident to my coat (as your Worship right well knoweth:) wherefore I am forced to write, as the Egyptian dogs do lap their water: the curs of that country by a natural inclination, do know, that in Nilus, and in other Rivers and floods of Egypt, certain venomous beasts, and stinging Serpents do lie closely hid under the water, weighting for their pray, and therefore they to shun that peril do run a long the shores and banks of the streams, and lap their water (as the old saying is) by sniches, & catches, as they may without danger come by it. So myself being compelled to take such uncertain leisure, as conveniently I may: wherein I have by fits, penned this my slender work, hoping that your Worship will be to the book, as Achilles' shield was to Ulysses, or as Hercules' club was to the Daughter of King Euritus: Ulysses thought himself safe under the shield of noble Achilles, which he knew (for the Master's sake) would terrify the beholder, jole the Daughter of Euritus did make the knees of mighty men to stoop, by holding in her hand the weapon of the most renowned Conqueror Hercules. So I craving your Worship's patronage; whose noble nature, virtuous government, and learned experience, I know to be of sufficient force, to shield and cover this my homely and rude style, from the hateful hand of all repiners, from whose mouth it is as hard a thing to get a good word, as to wrest perforce the club out of Hercules hands: and would willingly that a man should reap for his painful labour the thankless crop of Cholchos soil, which is to the weary tiler present destruction. It may be that your Worship doth rather expect at my hand a badge or token of my profession, coming so lately from the Hawks perch, than to treat of matters too high for my learning and skill: Notwithstanding, when I call to mind your wont courtesies and accustomable affability, I embolden myself to solicit your Worship with this my slender muse, hoping that you will with Artaxerxes, receive the good will of the simple meaner; not expecting eloquence so abundantly to flow from the Hawks perch, as from Aristotle's School. But if I may perceive that this my diligent pain is recompensed with friendly acceptance, I shall rest right happy and well contented, and my Book shall thinkest self as safely shrouded and defended under your favourable protection, as under the patronage of a far higher State: for that both your Worship's virtue, good government, learned disposition and courteous behaviour, is sufficiently known in this our Country, amongst your loving neighbours, where your countenance will make the simple work to carry more credit, than of itself it deserveth, through the good affection that our Countrymen do bear to your name.  
Thus being forced to leave off from further touching your worthy merit, lest that you should blame my pen, for over much flattering, which thing (I know) you heartily detest, and also fearing that I have too boldly presumed in craving your assistance, leaving at the length to abuse your patience, with overmuch tediousness, I end: wishing increase of worship, and whatsoever, (in this world) your heart can wish or desire, to fall upon you.  
Yours in all, to command, Thomas Fen.  

R Regard not riches if they rise, but for to serve thy need;  
remember what was Croesus' fall, and how the wretch did speed.  
O On Cato's words consider well, then rich, when once content:  
of Crates think, who sure was rich, when all his wealth was spent.  
B Bear Titus mind that Roman peer whose noble heart did bend  
before the sun went down each day, to purchase him a friend,  
E Ere angry mood do make the strike, first play upon thy lute:  
each day Achilles would do so, and Clinius on the Flute,  
R Revenge not unadvisedly, call Photion first to mind:  
rather take thou wrong with him, than show thyself unkind.  
T To wise Themistocles give ear, that loud his Country well:  
true subjects lived (as oft we read) when wretched traitors fell.  
V Use not by fear to awe each man, lest thou repent too late:  
urge none (saith Tully) by such means, for fear procureth hate.  
S See that thy Countrymen have right, the poor man do not fleece:  
so mayst thou have in this our soil, as Solon had in Greece.   

S Eat Caesar's pride, beware of that for he himself was slain:  
such haps do greet aspiring minds, when worlds they think to gain.  
P Pompey could abide no mate, nor Caesar any peer:  
pride brought them to untimely death, their state was bought so dear.  
E Endeavour to digest abuse, on wise Pericles think:  
else follow sage Zenocrites, at injuries to wink.  
N Nestor lived with great renown, in Pilos well esteemed:  
now lead a life that thou in fine, a second he, be deemed.  
C Call to thy mind King Darius, that used oft remorse:  
could Nero live, when he began to rule in Rome perforce.  
E Erst Hiero of Siracusa, for learning still would strive:  
err not but spend some time therein, whilst here thou art alive.  
R Read what wise Seneca doth say, of Cicero go learn:  
run not with unadvised haste, and thou shalt right discern.    

To the Reader.  
RIght courteous, gentle, and learned Reader, as duty bindeth me, I am determined to invite thee to a base and simple banquet: for knowing that thou art daily invited & bidden to many more curious and dainty dishes, that thy appetite is sufficed with all kind of delicates: therefore, in mine opinion, by staying thee from thy delicious meats, by inviting thee to more homely fare, thy stomach may be the more whetted & sharpened to take thy repast of those dainties, when occasion serveth. It may be, that when thou shalt perceive my principal and chiefest Guest, for whom this banquet was first provided, (whose mouth is daily used to the sweetest delicates, and whose tongue is of sufficient judgement to make a difference betwixt the sour taste of unpleasant cates, and the sweet relish and saver of well seasoned meats:) for manner sake to commend the dishes, and gratefully accept the good will of the inviter: that then thou wilt accordingly take in good part and well like of such homely cheer, as the willing bidder hath provided for thee. But if it should so fall out, that thy mouth being so often accustomed with the sweet taste and relish of dainty fare, that thy stomach can hardly digest the homeliness of my rear supper: yet I assure thee, that the cates themselves be as dainty & neweltie as the best, though not so well dressed by the unskilfulness of the Cook. Therefore I beseech thee to use the part of a friendly guest, in taking it in good worth and reporting the best: and further I request thee, if thou findest fault or mislikest any dish, being not well dressed, rather to wink privily at the Cook, than openly to discredit his workmanship Perhaps, it may be further objected to the discredit of the workman, saying, It was great pity that such dainty delicates happened to be bought of so simple a cater, to carry to so homely a cook, to be dressed in so smoky a kitchen: whereby the dishes have not their right, and their taste and relish spoiled, by reason of the baseness of the room. To which objection, with reason I thus may reply: that the unskilful cook may sometime take in hand to dress the daintiest dish, as well as the cunning and finest workman to learn experience: for he that ventreth not the marring or making, shall never attain to good workmanship. Thus (gentle Reader) having invited thee to this base banquet, play thou not like the dog in a manger, that will eat no hay, nor suffer those that would: wherefore I pray thee either fall too thyself, or give others leave to satisfy their hunger, whose stomachs are sufficiently prepared to feed. I would not have it thought, that I through a vainglorious mind, go about to edify and instruct the learned, whose ripe judgements, wise conceits, and learned experience, is of sufficient force to teach better Scholars than myself, for than should I go about, arenas in littus fundere: but for that I right well know, there are divers, whose learning is not of that profundity, but they may take both pleasure and profit, by reading this homely work. Is it not reported, that Aeneas coming to Carthage (there viewing and perusing the destruction of Troy, being painted on the wall of Dido's palace) with his faithful companion Achates, to have more imaginations and thoughts in his mind concerning the effect and substance, than the wall by painting could signify, yet notwithstanding the picture first caused those thoughts (by representing the matter) to revolve in his experienced mind: so that the setting down of a part, causeth the wise to conceive the whole: and by penning a brief, the learned conjectureth a volume. Therefore (courteous Reader) I am content to appeal to thy learned judgement: for Appelles setting forth his picture to hear each man's opinion in his work begun, was very well content, when the shoemaker found fault with the shoe, and the tailor with the hose: knowing these men to be artificers in the Science which they had reprehended, did willingly reform his error. But when the unskilful intruded themselves to the judgement of the legs, arms, and other parts of the body: then he drew in his picture, knowing that he should never please and satisfy the humour and fancy of all men. Thus, Far thee well.  
Thy friend in what I may. T. F.   

Fens fruits.  A Dialogue between Fame and the Scholar, no less pleasant, than profitable: wherein the bad behaviours, and lewd demeanours of man, is rightly discyphered. Scholar. 
SIR you are well met, I rejoice greatly that my good fortune is such to meet with you so happily; of whom I have so often heard, but never as yet could meet until this time to use conference with all.  Fame. 
It is great marvel, that you could never find me out before this time, traveling in all Coasts and Kingdoms as I do; hearing also all Nations of the earth report of me, so that the uttermost borders of the world hath had my presence: therefore truly hard was your hap in deed, not to speak with me before this time.  Scho. 
True it is in deed, but the messengers of uncertainty did daily so flout and mock me, that I despaired whether ever I should speak with your person or no; so many of your abusers did represent your presence: but now hoping to be certified with the true reports of your own mouth, of those things and doubts wherein you have been so often abused. For it is credibly reported, that you are the greatest traveler in the world, and have seen all Kingdoms and nations of the earth, by your unspeakable swiftness; the uttermost Isles in the main Ocean hath had your presence: the mightiest Kings and Princes of the earth, can neither stop or hinder your appointed travail; you pass their privy chambers, and know their secret counsels; your eyes have seen the uncertainty of time, the mutability of honour, the unconstancy of fortune, the instability & variety of the life of man, the subversion of kingdoms, the overthrow of empires, the ruin and destruction of stately towns and cities: your eyes hath seen, your ears hath heard, & your understanding doth remember from the creation of the world, and shall remain usque ad consummationem seculi: therefore, seeing your travail so wonderful, your continuance so ancient, and your memory so notable, I shall request you to unfold & relate part of those things, which yourself are a witness of, and have with present eyes beheld, as, the nature of things, the condition of people, with the inconveniences of this transitory life, and what calamities, miseries, troubles, enormities and vexations, doth commonly happen, and incidently fall to man.  Fa. 
My good friend, if the speeches of my mouth may challenge such credit with you, I am content to make you partaker of my great travail, and what I know concerning the state of the world; on this condition, that your mind shall detain, carry away, and perceive, with more liveliness of sense the effect of my words, than my tongue by uttering can express: so with your willing audience I shall be content to resolve you in any part wherein you shall demand.  Scho. 
Sir, I most heartily thank you, the condition shall be observed & kept to the uttermost of my power, mine ears shall also be attendant in silent sort, to vote your speeches well, therefore I pray you begin while I am armed with audience.  Fa. 
Well then my good friend, it is requisite that I first begin with the enormities and inconveniences of the life & state of man, which he falleth oft into, by the default of temperance; without which gift he runneth headlong to his own ruin & destruction: for Seneca saith, 
Seneca.  If thou wilt esteem and judge truly what man is, than set him naked before thee, & behold him well, setting aside, and laying a part from him possessions, authority, and all other gifts subject to fortune, then shall you see what he hath proper of himself, and what he borroweth of other, then shall you well perceive, this naked life of man; without which gift it cannot well be preserved or governed, but of necessity must needs soon perish and decay.  Scho. 
Sir, then by your leave, is temperance such a special necessary to the life of man.  Fa. 
Yea truly, for on that, hangeth and dependeth all other virtues requisite to the state and life of man: it is the good ground of all government, a right direction to honest living, and the true nurse and fosterer of provident wisdom, it keepeth the unsatiable appetites of ambition under the yoke of reason, and holdeth down the immoderate desires of superiority: to be short, I refer thee to the definition of Cicero, 
Cicero.  who defineth it on this manner, The property of temperance, saith he, is, to covet nothing that afterward may be repent, so that through the want thereof, man falleth into infinite miseries.  Scho. 
Well sir, than I perceive, that this gift is a most necessary and special maxim, to the life and government of man, wherein I trust to be better instructed hereafter, by some familiar examples, which doth show the fall and destruction in the wanters thereof, and the quiet state and contentment to the possessors of the same.  Fa. 
Friend, I will rehearse a very brief example in the mean time, for your better understanding, which shall show a difference betwixt the unsatiable appetite of aspiring minds, and the quiet state and peaceable contentment: which is thoroughly to be perceived, in the life of Aleaxnder the Great, and Diogenes the philosopher.  Scho. 
First sir, craving pardon for interrupting your speeches, me think this comparison is very unfit, & unseemly, and the difference of virtue and vice will hardly be made manifest by the lives of these two, the one being a great Prince and Emperor of many stately countries and kingdoms, the other a poor silly beggar, who lived by the alms of the people, having for his house a simple tun or barrel to harbour himself in, without any other wealth or substance at all.  Fa. 
Nay then, my good friend, you will drive me from the matter, and cause me to make digression for argument sake; but before I proceed any further, it shall not be amiss to manifest the state of these two, and descry your error; Alexander indeed was a great Prince, and Emperor of the most part of the world, and yet not so rich as Diogenes was: for whereas you think the comparison altogether unfit, the one being a beggar and wonderful poor, the other a king, and inestimable rich, therefore I refer thee to the wise saying of Marcus Cato, 
Cato.  who saith, Qui contentus est sua sort, Dives est, He that is content with his own estate and calling, is sufficient rich: We find that Diogenes was content with his poor estate, and Alexander not satisfied with all his kingdoms; wherefore, according unto the opinion of Cato Diogenes was rich, and Alexander poor: for truly he can not be rich which is not satisfied, neither can he be poor that is contented. And further, to confirm this argument, Mandanus a wise philosopher of India, to whom this Alexander sent messengers, 
In vita Philosopho.  commanding him to come to the feast of jupiters' son, which was holden at Babylon, (meaning himself to be the son of jove) declaring further, That if he would come, he should have great rewards and riches given him, but if he refused, and would not obey his commandment, he should be put to a most cruel death: whereunto the grave Philosopher answered stoutly, saying, That Alexander was neither the son of God, nor yet certain lord of any part or parcel of the earth, but was as mortal as himself, & as for the gifts & rewards of him that was himself so unsatiable covetous, he nothing regarded, returning this answer, That if it would please him to receive & accept a gift at his hand, he would willingly give it, & might very conveniently spare it, which was, his good counsel, that he should hold himself content and satisfied with sufficient, and to covet no more than were necessary, saying, That his ability was better able to give than Alexander's: for (saith he) he would give me that which himself wanteth, whereof I have sufficient, but I will send him that which he lacketh, and I myself have abundantly: and as for threats and menaces, I nothing at all regard; for if I live (saith he) my country will bring forth things sufficiently, to furnish my life withal, so that I shall not need his rewards; as for death I do nothing fear, but exceedingly desire it, which shall deliver me from my old withered carcase. Thus you may perceive, that this wise philosopher accounted them poor which were not satisfied, and those rich which were contented.  Scho. 
Sir, I do very well perceive my error, and do acknowledge it; for it standeth with good reason, that the riches of this world is contentment, and that a coveting and discontented mind is extreme poverty: therefore if it please you to proceed forward according to your pretence, I shall according to my promise be attentive.  Fa. 
Well seeing you are satisfied herein, I will proceed further; The Philosopher Diogenes (as I said before) perceiving the unconstancy of unfriendly fortune, 
Elianus in lib. 6.  the mutability of honour, with the uncertainty of life; so much contemned & despised the vain preferments and promotions of this transitory life, that he lived content and satisfied with a small portion of possession, which was but his bare tub or tun, wherein he was Lord and King without controlment, craving neither territories or confines to enlarge this his quiet kingdom, finding this his poor patrimony so void of all incumbraunces, vexations, and invasions, that he contented himself with this life until his end; turning his tub in the summer toward the North (for the coolness and shade) from the Sun; in winter to the South for the heat and warmness thereof: making his vaunt merely that he could rule his Lordship and possession as he listed from the invasions of his enemies, which was the sharp & bitter winds, by turning his tumbling palace. Thus living in contentment, it chanced that Alexander the great king of Macedony, hearing the rare fame of this Philosopher, thought good to visit Diognes' in his tub, to hear his wisdom and the cause of his so solitary living, came unto him being set in his tun, saying; My friend I have long desired to see thee, and to enrich thee being so a poor a philosopher: therefore ask of me what goods or living thou needest, and I will enrich thee with it to thy great contentment. To whom, when Diogenes had given thanks for his great courtesy offered: he said, If thou wilt do me this favour as thou sayst, 
Laertius in lib. 7.  than I pray thee take not that from me which thou canst not give me; but stand from before the mouth of my tun, that I may have the light and warmness of the Sun, which is to me great riches; for now thou detainest that from me and canst not give me the like: therefore do me but this favour, and I will crave of thee no other substance. Then said Alexander, My friend, how much possession, lands, and revenues would satisfy and content thee, if now I should give thee thyful contentment: to whom Diogenes answered, Even as much, Alexander, as thou must be thyself contented with all in the end: But at the first he misconstrued the meaning of Diogenes, and thought him wonderful covetous, knowing, that he himself had now most part of the world in possession, and daily strived to get the whole, therefore he thought it an unsatiable appetite of him not to be contented with less: but after consideration on the cause, he perceived that Diogenes meant his length of ground to be sufficient patrimony for himself, which in the end the greatest king of the earth must be contented withal: then said Alexander to him again, My good friend, what thing best contenteth thee in this world? to whom Diogenes replied, saying, That thing, sir King, which thou art most discontented withal in the world, which is a satisfied and contented mind, to covet for no more than sufficeth, which in thee, saith he, I find contrary. Alexander was nothing at all offended at the reprehension of the wise Philosopher, but rather smelling his own folly said at that time, Truly, if I were not Alexander I would be Diogenes. But we see that he was Alexander, therefore he could not be Diogenes; he was covetous, therefore he could not be contented, wherefore it appeareth that Diogenes had the gift of temperance not to covet his own destruction as Alexander did, but being rich in contentment despised fortune, for that her force could not molest or touch him, rejecting honour, because of the mutablitie and variety of the same, regarding not life for the uncertainty of it, but lived as a man contented fearing no calamity nor adversity whatsoever might hap to him, but was ready with patience to digest it.  Sch. 
Truly, it doth appear most plain, that this man had the gift of temperance sufficiently, and that he was nothing subject to the wavering wheel of fortune, neither passing of her smooth countenance, nor louring look, living a stranger to her, whereby he kept himself free from her force, notwithstanding I would feign know if the end and death of him were as worthy as his life: for No man is called happy before his end, which being answerable, I must needs confess the man deserved merit.  Fa. 
Indeed you say true, it is good in our conference, orderly to proceed, for the life of man cannot be so clear, but that it may be much dimmed and dusked by an ill end, making digression from the former life: but truly Diogenes continued a sound Philosopher until his end, 
Diogenes. Lacitius lib. 2.  & at his death, it is said, that he lying grievously sick, perceiving it a thing unpossible for him to recover his former health, by feeling his aged body so much weakened, and having in this great extremity of sickness small friends to comfort or relieve him, threw himself down tumbling from the top of a bridge, abutting near to the common place of exercises, and commanded the keeper or over-séer of the bridge; that when life failed and breath was quite departed, he should cast his carcase into the river Ilissus. Adeò pro nihilo duxit mortem & sepulturam Diogenes. So little regarded Diogenes the invasion of death, or the tranquillity and quietness of his body in the grave. But I say not that this end was commendable in a Christian, for he was long before the incarnation of Christ being an heathen man: notwithstanding endued with wonderful wisdom. Again, some report of his death after this sort; saying, he died when he was 90. years old: and being at the point of death willed his body to be left unburied; saying, That he would not be troublesome to his friends to dig and delve for him, who had no pleasure in their pain; unless they would do it to avoid the smell and stinking savour, whereby he were likely to annoy them: but when his friends asked him whether he would lie above the ground, to be devoured of birds and beasts; No friends (saith he) but lay you by me a little staff that I may fear and keep them away: therein deriding their foolish curiosity, that seemed to be so careful to bury the dead carcase, as though there had been great difference whether it had been devoured of birds and beasts in the field, or eaten and consumed of worms in the ground; & so rebuking their folly he died. The wise Philosophers so little regarded their dead carcases; knowing by their natural wisdom what the substance thereof was, making also no account or reckoning of life, whose state was so frail and fickle: the learned Horace, 
Horace.  going about to quip and reprehend the fearful minds of those that so much feared death said; Pallida mors aequo pulsat pede pauperum tabernas, regúmque turries: that pale death did as well visit the rich, as the poor: therefore (saith he) it is a foolish thing so much to fear that, which no man knoweth when it shall happen; neither can it be avoided or shunned by any prayers or gifts, nor by the force or strength of man repelled or driven back. Whereunto also Homer replieth, 
Homer de morte.  saying, Nec vis Herculea fatum enitavit acerbum: neither could Hercules strength resist or withstand death. The wise Socrates when he was to suffer punishment, namely loss of life; Apollodorus his familiar friend coming to the prison where he was laid up, 
Elianus liber 5.  brought unto him a very fine coat of costly wool, well woven and wrought; and therewithal a cloak of no courser stuff; desiring him to put them on, and to wear them when he drunk the poison that should procure his death: For (saith he) Socrates cannot want a rich and honourable burial, if he being attired with those gorgeous garments yield up the sweet pledge of his life: nor that he should lie dead, altogether undecently being decked with such beautiful and comely furniture. These words uttered Apollodorus to Socrates, but he not allowing thereof: said to Crito, Simmias, and Phoedon; O what a notable opinion doth Apollodorus conceive of us, if he hope to see Socrates in such bravery, after he hath drunk up the poisoned potion ministered to him by the hands of the Athenians: but if he did consider and believe that shortly after I should droop down, grovel on the ground, and at last lie like a lump of lead under feet: he would not vouchsafe to know me. Not long before the time of his death, also he being at liberty was very sick and feeble in body; so that his friends asked him how it fared with him; very well (said he) how so ever the world shall wag, for if I have my life prolonged I shall increase mine enemies to bait me with rebukes: again if death shorten my days, I shall win more friends to crown me with commendation. 
In vita Platonis.  In like manner Plato at what time the Academy was reported to be infected with the pestilence, the Physicians gave him counsel to remove his school from the Academy, into Lyceus, but he never a whit agreed to their counsel: but said, Sed ego producendae vitae causa, ne in Atho quidem summitatem transmigare velim, I would not remove to the high tops of the main mountain Athos, for the prolonging of my days, and the preserving of my mortal life: so little also, feared or regarded that wise Philosopher, the fatal end.  Sch. 
Truly the philosophers in this point, do show themselves the followers of wisdom indeed, for by birth they perceive themselves to be mortal, therefore make they no great account of their uncertain life, but truly I could wish, that there were many Philosophers now living amongst us, to instruct us thoroughly by their great wisdom, whereby we might as well learn to die as to live.  Fa. 
Surely, in mine opinion, it were in vain, for the nature of man is rather to credit and follow the precepts and doctrine of those that are dead, than to give audience, or be instructed at the mouth of the wise who liveth; for Diogenes himself in his life was forsaken of all his friends, because he used to reprehend them most sharply, therefore they termed him a Cinike, or doggish Philosopher, but after his death, his deeds were recorded and had in great reverence. Socrates also was hated amongst his countrymen because he would tell them thoroughly of their faults: Wherefore in the end he was accused and put to death, but after had in great reverence and admiration, following his rules and precepts, in governing their common wealth. In like sort, Aristotle, Demosthenes, Plato, calisthenes, and divers other, were had in greater estimation after their death, than they were in their life time. If Christ himself did live at this day, amongst you as he did amongst the jews, and his miracles showed to you as they were in jewry, it is hardly to be thought, whether you would have believed so sound on him, being bodily living amongst you, as you do now by the certain reports of his passion and miracles. But if the Philosophers would have given themselves, to please men, to flatter their folly, and to maintain their vice, they should have been in great estimation in their life, but they should never have purchased the name of Philosophers. 
Eli. lib. 7.  Xenophon saith, that Socrates upon a time had conference with the harlot Caliste, who uttered these words in course of talk to Socrates, Ego tibi Socrates, multùm presto, nam cùm tu neminem à me possis abalienare, ego cum libitum est, tuos omnes à te avoco. I excel thee Socrates many degrees, for when thou canst not allure men from me, I can entice any of thine from thee, when soever I list. To whom Socrates shaped this answer, Quid mirum est, siquidem tu ad decline? etc. What wonder is that, for thou doest trail men down in the dale of vice and destruction, but I hale them up the hill of virtue and eternity, whereunto is no easy passage, or common climbing: meaning, that the nature of man were more easier to be enticed by flattery to lewdness, than by sharp reprehension drawn to virtue. The wise Philosophers also were of this mind and opinion, that the most blessed and happiest thing which might fall and happen to man, was death, the end and conclusion of all miseries. In like manner, the ancient Poets, in divers of their works have confirmed the same opinion, as a general and universal judgement: insomuch, that it hath been reported, 
Eli lib. 9  that Biton and Cleobis, the sons of Araia, when their mother, being ministress in a Temple of a goddess, should have gone to the Temple in a chariot with great speed, as the manner was, and her horses could not be found, her two sons of childly pity vouchsafed themselves to bend their bodies and draw their mother with speed to the Temple: for which gentle affection the mother desired of the goddess whom she served, to give her children the greatest benefit which GOD might give to man. After the feast, in the night when the mother did take rest with her children, in the morning her two sons were found dead: whereby it was gathered, that the greatest benefit that man could have, was, in the midst of his glory and praise, to end his frail life, that the unconstancy of fickle fortune might not blot out any part of that which he had before gotten. Croesus' the rich King of Lydia, 
Croesus.  demanding on a time of Solon who was the happiest man that ever he did see, thinking that he would say Croesus, for his great riches and wealth: but Solon said, Tellus, a man of Athens, who had honest and good sons, and they also had good children, all which he saw in his life, and when he had lived a good time honestly, at the last fight against, and vanquishing the enemies of his country, he died a fair death, & was in the same place honourably buried of the Athenians. When Croesus asked, who was most happy next Tellus, Solon named those whom he knew to live and die most happiest, not naming Croesus at all, where at he being abashed said unto Solon, My friend of Athens, settest thou so little by our felicity, that thou preferrest before us, these private people? Solon answered Truly Croesus in process of time, many things are seen that men would not see, and many things are suffered that men would not suffer: and speaking much of man's calamity, at the last he concluded, 
Solon.  saying, Ante obitum nemo supremáque funera foelix, No man is happy, or thoroughly blessed before his last and uttermost end: and that the end of every thing is to be looked on, where to it shall come; for God plucketh up many men by the roots, unto whom he gave all things at pleasure: therefore I cannot account any man happy before his end be known. Croesus' made hereto no countenance at all, but esteeming Solon for a fool, considering he passed so lightly upon things which appeared good, let him departed. A good space after, Croesus attempting war against Cyrus' king of Persia, was at the last taken of him, who caused a great pile of wood to be made ready, and Croesus to be gyved, and set on the top thereof to be burned. Then forthwith Croesus remembering the words of Solon, that no man living was blessed, or on all parts happy, lamenting cried, O Solon, Solon, Solon: which Cyrus hearing, caused it to be demanded of him who it was that he named, Croesus with much difficulty told who it was, and declared all that was before rehearsed, which when Cyrus had heard, remembering himself to be also a man, sore repent that he went about to burn him, which was equal to himself in honour and riches, and commanded him to be taken from the fire, which then began to flame, so with great difficulty he was delivered: who could not perceive his own error, before experience had made him wise; wherefore in such causes, it may aptly be said, Phryx plagis emendatur, he bethought himself too late.  Scho. 
It is sufficiently apparent by your examples, that the life of man cannot be happy until his end, and that man ought to live accordingly, to attain to that happiness, but the nature of men is so far from that consideration, that they rather think themselves immortal, and without end, as doth appear by their lives most evident, for they live now in these our days, according as the Agragentines did in times past: for the wise Plato said of them, 
Dictum Platonis.  They b●●ded as if they would live ever, and fed as if they should always die, because of their costliness in building, and their delicateness in eating, the one showing the immortal mind of man, and by the other, contrary to their meaning they run headlong to an untimely death: which surfeiting end, according to the opinion of the wise Philosophers can not be accounted happy: but whereas temperance hath been the original ground of our conference, it shallbe also expedient, that you would make manifest, what the want thereof is, as well in princes and high estates, as in the meanest subject, and what by their unsatiable coveting they gain.  Fa. 
It is very requisite and necessary truly, to show the unsatiable appetite of aspiring minds, and what by their inordinate coveting they gain, which cometh by the want of the aforesaid gift, whereof I am right well content (my good friend) so that you will diligently mark what I shall say herein; I will first begin with a king of the Hebrews, whose name was Amasius, 
Amasius king of judea.  & lived before the incarnation of Christ 853. years; who although he lived well and contentedly for a space, yet in the end he forgot himself, and especially he forgot the living GOD, whom he before had served, which happened by his successes and innumerable riches, where withal he grew so proud, that not contenting himself, he wrote to joas king of the Israelites, commanding him & his people to be under his obedience and government. But joas, after defiance, gathered an army and went against Amasius, whose people fled before they came to strokes, for fear of joas: himself being taken and brought to the king, who threatened to kill him, except he caused the gates of jerusalem to be opened, that he with his army might enter in: there Amasius was forced to break down of his own City walls four hundred cubits, by which way his enemy joas might enter in, being also led as prisoner by his foe, into his own, where his adversary spoiled and rob him before his face of all the treasure of his house and city, with the treasure of the temple, which he commanded to be carried to Samaria, and afterward being delivered, his own people slew him. This gained he for his discontentment. 
M. Antonius, in gesta Romano. & Livius lib. 5.  In like sort Marcus Antonius a noble Roman, whom Augustus the Emperor highly favoured, making him companion in the Roman Empire with himself, using him so lovingly and friendly, that he wholly ruled and commanded the Empire so far forth as Augustus himself: in consideration whereof Antonius by the lewd enticement of Cleopatra Q. of Egypt aspired to the whole Empire, and to put down his true and trusty friend Augustus, who before had advanced him to that dignity: for which unsatiable appetite he was destroyed of his very loving and faithful friend. Also if Caesar, Pompey, Cyrus, Alexander, Hannibal, and divers other great Princes had been coutented with their own large kingdoms and possessions, they had never been driven to those extreme and shameful ends as they were: 
Proverbium.  so that it may well be proverbially spoken, Aurum Tolosanum habem, they died most miserably, whose lives and ends I would sufficiently relate and unfold, to the better understanding and perceiving of the quiet state of contentment, and the shameful fall and destruction of covetous and aspiring minds: but it may be, that I should over-weary your ears with tediousness, for where a brief will serve, it were mere folly to make a volume. Therefore for the avoiding of the blamable cause of over much tediousness in examples, I am content in this point to be short, referring it to your own judgement and consideration.  Scho. 
Not so Sir, I beseech you, for than should you offer me great discontentment, in naming the princes which should be examples in our aforesaid conference, referring them to my judgement and consideration, who as yet am altogether ignorant and unacquainted either of their lives, or ends, contentment or discontentment: wherefore my consideration herein can be but to small effect, unless I knew the certainty. And although it would seem tedious and troublesome to the ears of those who before do know their histories sufficiently; yet notwithstanding because of mine ignorance herein, & for the better perceiving of the aforesaid difference, I am very desirous to hear you, and shall have great pleasure thereby rather than trouble; and let those who are already perfect herein, stop their ears, until you confer of other causes, which shall please and content them better.  Fa. 
With very good will my good friend, being also glad that you will not plead perfectness, wherein you are ignorant; nor refuse the name of a Scholar, to learn further experience: for the wise Plato being demanded how long he would be a Scholar, and learn. So long (said he) as I repent not to be wiser. But to our purpose. I will proceed according to promise, first beginning with the most renowned Caius julius Caesar, 
Caesar in comment.  a most victorious Roman, who lived 40. years before the Incarnation of Christ, and in 10. years space made many mighty Nations submit themselves; first winning the whole Countries of Spain, Gallia, and Germany, conquering also the Helvetians, the Latobrigians, Tulingians, Sedutians, Harudes, Tribockes, with the Kauratians, & the warlike Boyans; he also overcame the Marcomans, the Suevians, Nemets, Seduns, Veragrines', Ambiliats', Venets, Diablinters, Digerons, Farbels, and the Naunets; in like manner he vanquished the Osisenes, Tarrasats, Vocats, Pretians, Flustrates, Garites, Garumnes, with the famous Ansians, the Sibusites, Cocasats, Aulerkes, and compelled the stout Viridovix to yield himself; slaying also an infinite number of the Morines, Trevites, Mennapians, Lexobians; he also slew the strong and valiant Captain Indutiomares with his own hand; he subdued the Belges, the nervians, the Aduatickes, with Occo the great Prince of the Senons; he beat down the Condrosces, Segemes, and Eburons; he also overcame the Britons with Cassibelan their King, & made them become tributaries unto him.  Scho. 
Sir (by your patience) let me cause you to stay there a while until I be certified in this one point: 
The English chronicle.  the Britoneses whom Caesar conquered with their King Cassibelan, I take to be the English Nation now, which at the first time of his coming and invading their Land (if ancient Records may challenge credit) gave him a shameful repulse, and slew a number of his men, causing him also to fly the Land with great speed into Gallia to save his life; where amongst the Galls he practised by treacherous means to obtain their Land. Which in the end he easily achieved, for having corrupted their Nobles and chief States, he entered the Land the second time, and made a conquest thereof. But at his first coming, the Britons so fiercely encountered with him, that he was caused perforce to fly the Field; and therefore where as he was wont to certify the Senate of Rome by his letters briefly saying and concluding, Vt veni, vidi, vici: So soon as I came, I saw, and I overcame. Thus for brevity sake, certifying the Romans of his prosperous success and good fortune: meaning thereby that no people or nation did or would withstand him, himself being present, but yielded themselves to his mercy at his very first coming. Notwithstanding he was at this time deceived, and caused to stay his letters from Rome, for he could not say, So soon as I saw I overcame: for the Britons at his first coming had driven him out of their Country, joining battle with the Romans, and drove them back with great slaughter; and in the same conflict a Britain, named Nennius, matched hand to hand with Caesar, and chased him in the field with great hazard and peril of his life; for catching the empoisoned sword of julius Caesar in his target, with the which he caused him to fly the field, as a hare before the hound to save his life: but Nennius not prevailing because of the wonderful swiftness of Caesar, retired into the battle again, and slew the chief friend and Legate to Caesar, (whose name was Labienus) with the sword which he had taken from his Master. Also by the reports of Caesar's own pen in his Commentaries, that he never got Land with more difficulty, than he did the Britain I'll, chief praising the Kentishmen both for their courtesy, manliness, and constancy, in the aforesaid Commentaries, which were written with his own hand.  Fa. 
I must needs confess it is true, yet notwithstanding he was called the victorious Caesar, for that he vanquished in the end whomsoever he warred against. After the conquest of the Britoneses, he forced the great Catiwlcus to poison himself, subduing the noble Lytavicus, taking at the same time the great City Genabum, and the Cities Valundunum, Noniodunum, battering down to the very ground Auaricum, and slew in the same City 40000. people: also he vanquished Theutomatus, Camalogeus, and slew Eporidovix, where in the same fight Cotus and Canarell were taken prisoners, Sedulius prince of Lemnovix was by him slain at Alexea: he took alive Vergasilaunus with three score banners, and four and thirty thousand prisoners, with many a noble man, he overcame Drapes, Surus, Suturuate, and chased so narrowly the noble Prince Luctarius, that he miserably died by famishment. The great king Etorix also, he made to be brought by his own People to him as Prisoner: he overthrew great Pompey the Roman Prince in many a battle, discomfiting in one day all his power at Pharsalia, and caused him to fly in poor array out of the camp into Egypt, afterward displacing the king of Egypt, and placing his sister Cleopatra in his stead, whom he dearly loved▪ juba king of Africa, and Pharnaces king of Pontus, he made submit themselves to his will. The sons of great Pompey which came to revenge their father's quarrel in like sort he put to shameful foil. Thus highly fortune favoured him, that he marched Conqueror through out all Europa. For the haughty mind of Caesar, as the ancient Romans report, could abide no equal, neither could Pompey abide or tolerate any peer or superior, whereby the whole world was troubled by their dissension and strife, not only with the loss of many thousands of soldiers, but also with a great number of worthy, valiant, and noble men of great fame and renown. After these great victories & huge slaughters of so many thousands, Caesar marched home to the gates of Rome, with the conquest of 300. several nations, and 800. stately towns at the least: yet not contented with the proy of his victory, nor filled with so many bloody slaughters, spared not, but beat down the stately walls of his own native City Rome, because his countrymen, fearing his cruelty at the first, would not open the gates of the City unto him: for which cause he made the Romans yield themselves on their knees, to become his faithful and true subjects, making himself Emperor over the Roman State, which was never subject to Emperor before his time. Thus did the pride of his mind still clime for dignity, not being satisfied but catching at the very heavens, if his power had extended so far, being fleshed with so many bloody broils, and animated with such lordly stateliness, that no Roman peer or potentate might stir or speak against his wilfulness. Therefore, true is the saying of Tully, 
Cicero, in offi.  who saith, Quem metuunt oderunt, quem quisque odit, perijsse expetit, Whom they fear they hate: whom every man doth hate, his death is wished for. Which saying was truly verified in him: for he grew in such detestable hate daily amongst the Romans, that they continually wished and heartily desired his destruction and confusion: which came through his great pride, and in that he would so much be feared. Neither was it unknown to him, that by his aspiring mind and stately behaviour, he was grown into deadly hate amongst the Romans: for which cause fearing the destruction of expected hap, he made a law, and instituted a decree, that no Roman should come into the Senate house with any weapon at all under pain of death: (which was where he most commonly sat in judgement, and where the States of the Romans assembled themselves together, to confer and determine of causes: yet notwithstanding in the end Cassius & Brutus extremely hating the unquenchable pride of his aspiring mind, brought privily into the Senate (in their pockets and sleeves) small bodkins, 
Mors Caesaris.  little knives, and such other fit instruments for their purpose, and suddenly in the Senate house set upon him unlooked for, stabbing him into the body most miserably until he died. This was the end of mighty Caesar, which happened through the default of Temperance: which gift if he had possessed, he had not so died.  Scho. 
O good God, what meant the unsatiable Caesar by his inordinate coveting, and by the uncessant climbing for vain superiority had he delight and pleasure in such cruel slaughters, and miserable murders of so many distressed people: was his greedy appetite, so hungry after honour, that his mind could never be satisfied: would not so many pitiful murders, so many lamentable chances, so many cruel acts, so many hard escapes in his wars, which he both beheld in others, & also felt himself, mollify and abate the haughty pride, and lofty courage of his aspiring mind, wherein he might have perceived himself as mortal as the rest? Surely I much marvel how he could register and set down with his own pen the whole discourse of his wars and victories, compiled in a volume called Caesar's Commentaries, without blushing cheeks, wonderful shedding of tears, and deep sighs from the heart, to think that for his own vain glory and pride of heart, so many Nations were subdued, so many stately Towns beaten down & sacked, so many people slain and murdered most lamentably, that all Europa stood floating with the blood of his slaughters. He might have considered the nature of man by the disposition of himself: for before their Country should be sacked, spoiled, rob and destroyed by the invasions and forces of foreign enemies, they will most willingly venture life, and run with desperate minds to death in defence of Country and liberty: 
Distum Catonis.  but the wise Cato saith, Sic facias alteri, quòd tibi vis fieri: So do unto another, as thou wouldst thyself be done unto. Even such measure as he gave to others, such measure was heaped to him again. For when he had depraved divers kings of their kingdoms, spoiled them of their lives, & wrested from them their goods, in the end, as it seemeth, he was in one hour depraved of his Empire, which he had made firm to himself perforce, despoiled of his princely regiment, and most miserably murdered by the hands of his own subjects. O most unhappy end.  Fa. 
If we shall go forward according to promise, it is not convenient to stand long upon this one example: but to proceed. Alexander the Great, who was the son of Philip King of Macedon: 
Alexander magnus, ut Plutarchus scripsit  in like manner; was one whom fortune highly favoured; for being but twenty years old, when first he began his reign: at which time he set forward to conquer the whole World, and at the first subduing the Athenians, Geteses, Lacedæmonians, Argeans, Thalants: with all the whole country of Greece; from thence he went to Hellespont where he conquered all the countries there about, marching from thence into Asia, where at the first he slew in one day of Persians, 20200. causing also many Cities, and strong towns, in the same country to yield to his mercy, as Sardis, Lydia, Magnesia, Phrygia, Ephilos, Pamphilia, Caria, Pysidia, Lysia, Gordin, Helicarnus, Melyton, Selenas, Aucyre, Paphlagony, Solos, Malon, Lernesus, Islon, Sebestus, with strong Castabulon. Then passing to the large country, Cilicia, where he took prisoners the mother and wife of King Darius, putting him to flight, slaying of the Persians, 100000. compelling also Strato the great King of Arade, with all the Kings of Syria, to yield themselves on their knees to his mercy: he put to sack the stately and strong City tire, that never before, since the beginning of the World had been conquered: then sailed he into Egypt, and so over the river Nilo: where he subdued all the country, marching forward to Araby, where he slew the mighty King Darius, with many thousand of his people: from thence he passed to the great City Babylon, which was presently yielded to him: then he conquered the whole country of Armenia, Atrapine, Persepolis, Paralacen; marching to the huge Nation of the Mardons: where he vanquished the Medes, Parthians, Spartans', Thracians, Acabians, Boetians, Cannians, Besyrians, Nisans, Pisides, with many more, until he was letted by the Caspian seas: the country of Amazon he also subdued, and utterly destroyed the great Province of Dranga, compelling their King to fly into India to save his life; he overcame the whole land of Aracosia, sacking the Cities, Acadera, Bactria, Cyroposis, Scythia, Bubacen, Basannes, Duhanes, and the Maurians, from thence he conveyed his army into India, that never was invaded by any one before, but by Hercules: passing over and conquering the high and steep Mountains of Meroae and Dedala, with rich Amzaga; Mount Arum he long besieged, and in the end got it, which Hercules before him could not subdue: making the Kings of India Omphis, Abiazaris, and Gamaxus, to yield themselves on their knees; then passed he over Hydaspis streams, where he vanquished the great King Porus, and slew all his army, still marching to the Sabians, Sugdrians, and Mallians, which he also conquered; then to the Oxidricans, whom he utterly overthrew, marching on to the uttermost coasts of all the Orient, until the mighty seas denied him further to pass: then prepared he a Navy of ships and sailed on the great Ocean sea: where he saw many strange and wonderful sights, and found out many barbarous Nations, which he also subdued with the sword, not offering to make return until the cruel seas denied his further passage; then returned he to Babylon wonderfully weeping by the way as he went, for that he had heard Anaxarchus and Democrites affirm, 
Democrites, ita dixit.  that there were many and divers worlds; for which cause, Heu me, inquit miserum, qui nec una quidem sum potitus, Woe is me (saith he) miserable wretch, that am not possessor as yet of any one: neither do they feel or know my power and might nor have my banners been spread in their Coasts and countries whereby they might have known me their Lord & King. Thus continuing in sorrow until he came to the City of Babylon, where he held a great Parliament, (for all the Kings of the Orient were summoned, to come and do their homage, to the great King,) sitting there as it were in the heart & middle of the earth, to the intent the greatest part of Kings and Princes of the whole world might with speed come to honour him: who caused himself to be called the son of jupiter: for being lifted up with the pride of his victories, attributing the chance thereof to his own worthiness, thought himself in deed the son of God, commanding his people upon pain of death so to call him, willing also that all Nations of the earth should adore and worship him, by the name of the son of jupiter: but see, the high and mighty God immortal would not suffer this proud King any longer to live, but cut off his days in the most flourishing time of his prosperity. For those whom Alexander put most trust and confidence in, first of all betrayed their proud mortal God: 
justinus, in lib. 12.  for at such time as he was bidden to a banquet in the house of his friend Thesalus Medus, he was miserably poisoned by the hands of Cassander, Philip, and jola, which was by the consent of his own Lieutenant Antipater, and Aristotle sometime his master and Tutor; which happened by his unsatiable appetite of coveting, with the unmeasurable thirst after dignity: and also the intolerable vice of pride thorough which he caused himself to be called a God: all which they deadly detesting, consented to the poisoning of their King. Then was the saying of Diogenes verified in Alexander: who said, That his length of ground were sufficient patrimony for himself which in the end the greatest Prince of the world must be contented withal. Notwithstanding Alexander regarded not the saying of the wise Philosopher, but coveted still after the whole world, that when he needed but so much possession as Diogenes before spoke of, he could not possess it, but wanted the rites of his burial: for he was kept above the ground unburied, by reason of the great strife & dissensions which were amongst the Lords and peers of Macedon about the succession; whereof when Olympias his mother had heard; 
Diodorus Siculus, in lib 8.  she took on very pitifully, and made this mournful lamentation: saying. O fili, fili, tu cùm in deorum numerum referri volveris, & id perficere summo studio conatus sis, nunc neque illorum quidem, quorum omnibus mortalibus aequale & par, ius est, particeps fieri potes, terrae & sepulturae. My son, my sweet son, needs wouldst thou be recounted among the God's immortal: and didst what thou couldst to accomplish thy purpose, but now my son, my sweet son, thou art so far from being heavenly, that thou art most vile, wanting the common benefit of burial, whereof not so much as the lousy beggar is deprived. Thus did she bewail her ill luck and froward fortune, detecting also the pride & vanity of her son Alexander in her bitter lamentation. For truly the body of her son had wanted the rights of burial, had not his friend Aristander Telmisensis invented a crafty mean to bring his carrion carcase to the earth, for lying above the ground unburied the space of thirty days: this his faithful friend coming to the lords and peers, which were at variance about the succession of his kingdom, made this feigned protestation, as though he had been pricked thereunto by some extraordinary or heavenly motion, to say these words as followeth, 
Eli. lib. 10.  Omnes omnium seculorum reges Alexander felicitate superavit, tàm viws quàm mortuus: Etenim dij immortales mihi notum fecerunt, in quacunque terra ipsius anima requiem primum esset habitura, eam felicitate abundantem, & ab omni hostili vastatione in perpetuum fore liberam. Alexander, when he was living, and also now being dead, excelled all kings of all ages, in felicity, happiness, beatitude, and prosperity: for the gods everlasting have revealed and made manifest to me, that in what region soever the soul of Alexander first did rest, the same should be crowned with plenty and abundance, it should not fear the wasting of foreign force, nor be subject to the violent invasion of the spiteful adversary. When the peers and nobles had heard these words pronounced by Aristander, they presently cut off all quarreling for supremacy, and every one of them put too his helping hand, with no less desire than duty, to convey the dead carcase of Alexander into his own Empire, that they might possess their treasure and all things in peace: notwithstanding, behold the immortal God would not suffer the dead carcase of this god, to take as yet any rest in the ground, nor to have the rights of burial, but caused dissension to arise, whereby his body was tossed from place to place. For Ptolomeus king of Egypt made inquisition and search after the dead body of Alexander, 
Diodorus Siculus, de morte Alexand.  and found it out at Alexandria: as for the Macedonians they were calm, quiet, and still, Perdiccas only excepted, who pursued Ptolomeus with might and main, not so much for the love, duty, and reverence which he had to Alexander, as for the words which Aristander pronounced, neither truly did Ptolomeus bestow that great pains, for the very love he bore to Alexander, so much as he did for the same devotion as Perdiccas had: but Perdiccas in the end overtaking Ptolomey, stayed him: in which encounter, Ptolomey suppressed the power of Perdiccas, and committed a great slaughter of the Macedonians, who sought so earnestly to recover the dead body of the Macedonian Monarch, and were also at the last flouted after this sort: for Ptolomeus had made an image which resembled Alexander the puissant, and decked it gloriously, beautifying it with garments of princeliness, he also adorned it with Epigrams and inscriptions, and poesies of high honour, he laid it in a Persian chariot, and decked the coffin bravely with gold and silver, as became the estate of an Emperor, as for the carcase itself, it was but homely handled, for it was wrapped in no costly gear, but very basely used, and as present occasion craved, privily sent away by secret and unknown ways, to the intent it might not be intercepted or stayed. Now when Perdiccas had espied the sumptuous simulachre of dead Alexander, and saw every thing as he thought royally executed and pompously performed, he paused from his speedy pursuit after Ptolomey, persuading himself, that he had obtained the thing, namely, the body of Alexander, whereabout such strife and contention kindled and burned betwixt them both so eagerly: but he was deluded and mocked for all that, and understood the truth somewhat too late, and perceived that he was craftily circumvented, and was forced in the end to retire back, being shamefully flouted. This was the end of this earthly god, and the unquietness which fell to his dead carcase, which could not for a time obtain the rights of burial: and also after it was committed to the ground it could not rest, but was tossed and removed from place to place, for whereas he in his life time despised to be counted mortal, he was at his death denied the common benefit of a mortal man. Of whose life and manners, hereafter shall be more sufficiently spoken, according as the cause shall require, and occasion be offered.  Scho. 
O most unhappy Prince that ever lived, would he needs be a god? Was there no remedy: Well, therefore as it seemeth he could not enjoy the common benefit of a man, what meant he by this vain wish, when he hearty wished that his arms might reach from the orient to the occident, and that he might bear his banners displayed in all kingdoms and nations of the earth, to the intent he might be known their Lord and King? nay rather what meant he when that he could not satisfy himself, with so great a part of the world as he had already gotten and won, but mourned for the other worlds which he heard of, which he thought unpossible for him to get? Was his appetite so unquenchable? O unsatiable mind that harkened not to the wise saying of Diogenes, who said; His length of ground were sufficient patrimony for him? which in the end the greatest prince and peer of the earth must be contented withal: but he being kept so long above the ground (as seemeth) less than his length in his life might contain his dead rotten carcase. For a small hole would serve to crowd and thrust the remain of the decayed and putrefied corpse with ease: wherefore he needed not so large measure of ground, as Diogenes spoke of before. But see the power of the immortal God in shortening the arms of this mortal God so much, that so small a room would with ease hold and contain him; which before groped in a manner after the very heavens, the upper face of the earth not contenting his greedy appetite. Therefore truly in my opinion he needed not to write upon his grave, or Tomb, 
Carmina Ennij.  as Ennius did, who engraved these verses, be cause the people should not bewail his death, saying: 
Nemo me lacrimis decoret, neque funerafletu  
Faxit, cur? volito docta per ora virûm.  No man shall bewail me with tears, nor shall make sad my funeral with weeping. For Alexander might well assure himself, having so much troubled and molested the world, that his name which in his life time was both odious and detestable: should not at his death be bewailed and deplored: but rather that his funeral should turn the whole world to great gladness and common joy.  Fa. 
Cyrus' the Persian King, although he lived a while contented and in favour and good liking of his people, yet notwithstanding in the end he was drowned in covetousness, giving himself to the vain pride of the world: hunting after honour, climbing after superiority, 
justinus, lib. 1.  striving uncessantly for the kingdoms of his neighbours, whereby he grew both odious to his countrymen, & also untolerable to his confines and borderers: neither could he take example by Croesus the rich King of Lydia, whom he had taken prisoner before, with all his people; which happened thorough his coveting and unsatiable mind: and yet for all that he gave himself so much to the conquering of the kingdoms of others; that in the end he lost both his own patrimony and life also. But first to show the preserving, election, and establishing of this King, it shall not much digress from our purpose. 
Digressio.  Astyages King of the Medeans, in the night dreamt, 
Plu. de vita Cyri.  that out of his daughter's loins should spring a vine: whose branches should over shadow all Asia. The King being fearful asked counsel of the Soothsayers concerning the event of his troublesome dream, whose answers were that his daughter should bring forth to him a nephew, which should take his kingdom from him. Thus being terrified with this answer; he would neither give his daughter to any foreign Prince, or worthy state, nor to his own countrymen which descended or came of any honourable parentage: to the intent that no stock or race of nobility might breed or bring up such a nephew to him. But at the last he gave her in marriage to Cambyses a Persian, which was at that time a most obscure Nation: notwithstanding fearing the future hap of his dream, he sent for his daughter being great with child, under colour of being grandfather, that he might look well and carefully to his daughter's Child, when it should be borne. Not long after the young Child his nephew was borne; and then forthwith Astyages the Grandfather gave it to Harpagus chief Lord of his counsel to be presently slain: but Harpagus fearing lest after the death of his Lord Astyages, his daughter & mother to that child should reign in the kingdom, and so revenge the murder of the innocent on him; wherefore he gave it to one of the king's shepherds, to be privily brought up, returning this answer to the King that he had slain the child his nephew: therefore he should not need to fear his dream. But in time the boy growing up to a pretty stripling, being in company with his fellow shepherd boys in the field, and by lot was chosen King in their childish sports and plays, when certain of his little subjects had transgressed his commandment, he caused them to be holden up in jest whilst he whipped them in earnest: the boys complained of this abuse to their parents and they in like sort taking in hard part such whipping, complained of it also to the King: how that the son of a hired servant had scourged and whipped their children, which they took grievousely: then Astyages sending for the boy, demanding of him the cause? Where with the boy with a bold and manly face, Fecisse se ut regem respondit, he answered; That he had done as became a King, and no otherwise Astyages hearing this majestical answer of the pretty boy, called to mind his forepast dream, viewing well the lad: he asuredly thought that the boy much favoured his daughter whose Child he had caused to be slain; but both by the face and similitude of the youth, and by the confession of the shepherd, and the time of the receipt thereof. He than knew that he was his right Nephew; vanishing all fear from himself of the aforesaid Dream and Prophecy, for thinking himself to be as a dead man in his sleep, and his Nephew to be King and as the Soothsayers had declared he should be, thought himself clearly freed from all peril. But Harpagus scaped not unpunished for breaking the king's commandment; for Astyages catching the son of Harpagus slew him, 
Actum terribile.  and caused his cooks to dress the mangled boy, inviting after the father of the child, causing him unawares to eat his own flesh. Which thing being afterward known unto Harpagus, he dissembled the matter until he might with fit opportunity revenge this villainy forthwith, sending privily into Persia to Cyrus, showing him how his grandfather had dealt with him, for saving his life, wishing him also to prepare an army, and come to challenge his kingdom which his grandfather meant to defraud him of. Cyrus' having received the letters, considering the ancient wrongs that his grandfather had offered him before: and now also how greatly he had abused him, who had preserved his life, wherefore he presently gathered an army, minding now to challenge his right whilst that he had such a faithful friend as Harpagus was, who offered himself to do his uttermost in the behalf of Cyrus. But Astyages hearing of such great preparation against him by his nephew, in like sort also provided a mighty hand against him, the conduction whereof he committed wholly to the government of his counsellor Harpagus, who presently when he had received them, yielded up the whole army to Cyrus, to revenge himself on the king for the great injury he had offered him: the king having knowledge thereof, gathered a new power of men, and went himself against his nephew, marching on to the borders of Persia, where was fought betwixt the grandfather and the nephew a most cruel and bitter fight, in which conflict this notable courage in the Persian women is remembered, for the battle, being planted on both parts wonderful strong. And Astyages to the intent his soldiers should fight manfully, had divided his army in such sort, that he placed at the backs of those that should fight the battle, an other army of soldiers, saying, Unless they overcame, and went forward, they should find as hard fight behind them, as their enemies were before them. If in case they should offer to retire back: the battles on both sides being come to handstrokes, and deadly blows, the Persian army at the first began to flee back and retire, which sorrowful sight, the Persian women had soon espied, wherefore forthwith the matrons, wives, and daughters assembled themselves in haste, and running to meet them, who came fleeing before Astyages and the Medeans, as men despairing of their good fortune, plucking and folding up their clothes, showing the privy secrets of their bodies, ask them whether or no they would flee for succour into the wombs of their mothers or wives, requesting them earnestly to return into the battle and fight for their lives, saying, That if they would needs run home, they could neither secure or help them any otherwise than by what means they had already showed them. By which castigation of the women, the Persian soldiers retired into the battle again, and put their enemies to shameful flight, taking also prisoner Astyages the Medean king. Thus far digressing from our purpose, to show both the cruelty of Astyages, the valiantness of the Persian women, and the good hap of Cyrus, in attaining unto the crown. 
Ad causam  But now to return to our purpose again. Cyrus possessing all Persia and Medea, was not contented with those large kingdoms and dominions, but still coveted to enlarge his possessions, delighting in bloody battles, rejoicing at the ruin and destruction of stately Towns and Cities. For after many cruel fights and bloody broils, he entered into Lydia: where in a great battle he took Croesus the rich King thereof. Notwithstanding he was not satisfied with all the treasure & Kingdom of Lydia, which was then the most richest Region under the heavens: but marched forward into Asia, conquering that also; returning at the last with all the East part of the world, which he held under the subjection. Yet being not filled with bloody fight, nor satisfied with victory, he waged war with the Scythians, who at that time were governed by Queen Thomyris; which sent her Son with a great Army to defend her Country: but the subtle Captain Cyrus, perceiving the young man to be but a fresh water soldier, fraughted his Tents well with wine and fresh victual (in which he knew the Scythians much delighted) and after feigning a flight as if thorough fear of the Scythian Army, he departed, leaving his Tents wholly furnished to entrap the Scythians withal: which fell out accordingly, for the lusty youth (over rashly and without good consideration) seized on those Tents being forsaken of the enemy, and (according to their accustomed manner) fell to such excessive quaffing and bibbing, that the whole Army was soon drunken therewith, being void of all fear, for that they supposed the Enemy to be fled. But Cyrus being advertised thereof, returned in the night to his tents again, finding the Scythians overcome with his wine; so that he easily slew the Son of Thomyris and the whole Scythian Army. The Queen hearing of the loss of her dear Son, & also of her Army, did not spend the time in weeping, but presently sought means to revenge herself on that unsatiable wretch, & with such like subtlety as Cyrus beguiled her son, with such policy she trained him to his destruction: for the Persians greatly rejoicing in their first victory, and happy success in the beginning; and the Scythians contrariwise, making show as if they were greatly discomfited with the loss of their Army and former foil, 
Mors Cyri.  retiring still back from their enemies, to train them in like sort into the marshes and strait places of their Country, where the enemy was entangled before they knew of any such practice, or suspected any such craft at all. There was Cyrus slain with 200000. Persians, whereof there remained not one to carry news or message back into Persia how they had sped in Scythia; in which great conflict & slaughter, when Thomyris had found out the dead body of Cyrus, she caused the head to be cut from the carcase, flinging the head into a tub of man's blood, which was filled for the same purpose: saying; Satia te sanguine quem sit isti, cuiúsque insatiabilis semper fuisti: 
Dictum Thomiris.  Cyrus now satisfy thyself with blood, which thou hast long thirsted after, whereof thou couldst never have thy fill. Thus died Cyrus when he had reigned 30. 〈◊〉 Pompeius Magnus (so called for his incomparable Uictories, 
Pompeius' magnus. Vt Livius scripsit li. 3.  being the son of Pompeius Strabo) in like case wanted the gift of temperance: for being wonderfully beloved of the Romans, and honoured exceedingly for his happy successes in his wars, grew in the end so proud, that he disdained any superior: which ambitious mind caused his shameful destruction. First being but a youth, he entered into Africa, committing there most horrible slaughters of the Africans, subduing their Country to the Roman Empire, returning to Rome: from thence, he speedily marched into Spain; where he overcame in Battle the most valiant Captain Sertorius, being then an Exile in Spain, and before invincible. He also vanquished the great king of Pontus called Mithridates, with a mighty number of people. For which great victories he triumphed in Rome twice, not being filled with these great conquests and murders of distressed people, nor satisfied with his stately triumphs, but forthwith invaded and conquered these realms and nations, as Armenia, Cappadocia, Paphlagonia, Media, Cilicia, Mesopotamia, judea, Arabia, Colchis, Iberia, Albania, and Syria, for the which also he triumphed in Rome. In these wars he gathered a mighty mass of treasure, whereby he both enriched the common treasure-house of Rome, and also himself, the gold which he brought to Rome from the spoils of these wars, was 2000 talents, which amounteth of our money to 28026600. pounds, beside that which he gave to every private soldier, which was six pounds to every man: therefore it is to be thought, that in so great an host as pertained to the conquests of so many countries, must needs extend to a wonderful sum of money. If then the sum which was preserved did amount to such a mighty mass. It is also to be supposed the private spoils and booties of the common soldiers did arise to a great quantity, which was not openly declared. Wherefore it is to be considered, how that Pompey through his unsatiable appetite did spoil and sack on infinite number of stately Cities and rich towns, with the shedding of huge streams of blood, in the gathering together of this muck, for which cause also many thousands of his people lost their lives. Returning to Rome with the rich spoils, his haughty pride much more increased; in somuch, that no Roman (in what office soever) might be his peer, no nor scant his equal, and to establish his estate the better, he married julia the daughter of julius Caesar a mighty Roman: but this friendship not long continued, for julia died: then could not Caesar and Pompey agree, for the stately pride of the one could not brook or digest the haughty mind of the other, whereby there grew amongst the Romans great controversy and debate, insomuch, that in the end, it came to bloody blows and mighty slaughters, as well of Romans themselves, as of infinite thousands of strange nations, and foreign people: but at the last Pompey was vanquished and forced to fly privily by sea into Egypt, 
Mors Pom.  where by the conduct of king Ptolomeus he was slain in a boat, his head being stricken off, and his body cast on the stround, where it was but poorly buried. Thus died Pompey when he had lived three score years, spending his time in shedding blood, whose proud mind in his aged time, would not suffer his body to rest, but in striving and contending for superiority, he most shamefully lost his life. Thus (good friend (it is manifest what aspiring minds gain in the end. For further proof whereof, it might more sufficiently be proved by the fall of divers other kings and princes, which at this time I omit, hoping, that these few examples shall as well suffice, as if I had more amply related, or apparently expressed them by further examples.  Scho. 
Sir, for your great courtesy herein, I yield you most hearty thanks, not being willing to trouble you any further in these examples, for you have most plainly manifested the reward of discontentment, the incident end of aspiring minds, the imminent peril which doth daily hang over the climbers for superiority, so that first from the beginning being certified of the state of man, wherein is showed, that he holdeth nothing proper of himself, but borroweth what he hath of others by reason of his nakedness; then also what an uncertain thing life itself is in this naked body of man: so that man being of this bare and base metal, ought not to think himself immortal; then also what was more necessary to govern the frail life and naked body of man, than temperance, showing the quietness and happy state to the possessors thereof. And now in like sort in these your last examples: what troubles, vexations, perils, and utter confusion doth happen and fall consequently to the wanters of the afore said gift: therefore as you have orderly begun, so my request is that you will accordingly proceed forward.  Fa. 
Truly friend there are many enemies to the life of man, which for their pleasantness at the first, are taken as dear friends: for the nature of man, is to account that a friendly pleasure which fully satisfieth his lewd vain and greedy appetite; although after it shortly turneth him to destruction. The wise Marcus Cato, finding out and perceiving that worldly muck, 
Mar. Cato.  (as heaps of gold and silver, which is but mettle of the earth) was one of the chiefest enemies and adversaries to the quiet state and peaceable rest of man: when he came from the conquest of Spain, having gathered a great mass of treasure together. First considered to himself what inconvenience this money and coin might purchase, either to himself or to any of his friends which might possess too great a quantity thereof; also fearing that if he should bring it into the treasury of Rome, it would trouble and disquiet the whole body of the Senate, who having sufficient before (as Cato thought) might therewith purchase the death and destruction of many thousands of Romans and other people: for as he thought, if they had such a huge mass of treasure, they would have provided to conquer the world, if it had been possible for them. Which thing he might well conceive, for that he at that time was commanded and sent by the Senate, to make a conquest of Spain: but wise Cato foreseeing all these evils and expected harms; at his return out of Spain towards Rome, gave to every one of his Soldiers, (which were a mighty number) a pound weight of silver, because he would dissolve and separate the suspected mischief; knowing also that the money was unrevocable again out of so many holder's hands (saying) better it were that many should return to Rome with silver; then a few with gold: which as Cato supposeth is one of the most speciallest enemies to the quiet state and government of man; breeding trouble and vexation to the mind, 
〈◊〉 fo. 215.  which otherwise would be in quiet rest. In like manner Crates a Philosopher, perceiving what unquietness, the goods of this world bred to the mind of man, threw his riches and treasure into the sea because they should neither molest or trouble himself, nor otherwise infect his friends with avarice: (saying;) Pack hence, you ungracious appetites, I had rather down you, than you should drown me: also further saying, se non posse virtutes & divitias simul possidere, that he could not possess virtue and riches together. Bias Prienaeus, a learned man of Grece, seeing his country taken by enemies, fled; 
Bias Prienaeus.  other men taking with them such goods, as they might bear: but he carried nothing with him, and being afterward demanded why he took not his riches and treasure with him, but left it as a pray for the enemy? Made this answer (saying;) Omnia mecum porto, I carry all mine with me, meaning virtue and doctrine; reputing the goods of fortune, none of his: saying further: I am but oversharplie revenged on my foes in leving that behind me, which will so sore trouble & molest them. In like case, the wise and learned Philosopher Democritus, when he returned to Athens, gave his possessions and riches to the weal public, 
Ehanus. l. 6.  which was very great; to be as maintenance and relief to the poorest Citizens: saving a little garden which he reserved to walk in for recreation sake. Also when he beheld the City of Athens, he continually laughed at their foolish diligence, which spared no pains to get authority and riches, that they were not sure to keep; which also laboured to get their children great possessions, who either died before their fathers, or (overliving them) shortly spent away all their fathers left them. But the Athenians being angry therewith, sent Hypocrates to Democritus, to demand what he meant by his foolish laughing; thinking him to be mad. But Hypocrates when he perceived what he meant, returned again to the Athenians, saying, Surely Democritus is not mad, but truly I rather think those mad whom he laugheth at. On a tune a certain man demanded of Agesilaus King of Lacedemonia, why he being so mighty a Prince did live no richer, far no better, and lie with no more estate, than he did? Who answered, It doth my friend (saith he) become a King to excel in moderate and temperate living, 
Dictum Agesilai.  and not in delicacy, and after a superfluous manner. Neither (saith he) do I mean by my spare living, to hoard up treasure to purchase the heavens: but rather to give example to my subjects to live and continue in contentment. Then no doubt, if princes ought to excel in temperance, but that their subjects ought much more to imitate those good Princes, considering by the aforesaid examples, that superfluity of wealth is an enemy alway repugnant, as well to virtue, as to the quiet state and government of man. Anthenodorus a Stoic Philosopher was wont to say, 
Dictum Anthe.  Thou mayst think thyself free from covetousness, when thou art come to this point that thou wilt desire nothing of GOD, but that thou mayest openly crave. Thinking although the heart of man were never so covetous of inordinate wealth, yet his tongue durst not openly pronounce it: then according to this opinion, if man would not wish privily for more, than he would openly crave for his credit, no doubt then man would not be unsatiable; but many Princes have been so unsatiable themselves, and their subjects so rightly and justly have imitated and followed their proceed, that it is grounded with sure hold and root in man. I am surely persuaded, that there are more in these our days, which have more rightly followed the Roman Emperor Vespasianus; than have imitated Agesilaus the Lacedaemonian King, which is before spoken of: 
Sextus Aurelius so. 54  for Vespasianus the Emperor, gave himself to such immoderate coveting, that he preferred to dignity those that were wonderful covetous: to this end, that when they had by their unsatiable appetites hoarded up much treasure, he might cavil and quarrel against them, and take their goods from them which they had gotten by vile extortion. He also ordained a tribute or tax to be paid him of the quantity of stolen made in every house: for which, because it was evil spoken of, his son Titus would have dissuaded him earnestly from that filthy and stinking gain: to whom at that time Vespasianus said little. But when the money of the tax was next brought in, he taking his handful of the money, & calling his son Titus unto him, held it to his nose saying; Doth this money savour well or no? He answered, It savoured well. Why (said he) and this cometh of the urine and piss: wherefore thou mayst see that the savour of gain is sweet, whereof soever it cometh. But such sweet may soon turn to sour, and sudden haps may fall to the coveting mind, as fell on Brennus' Captain of the Galls, who builded the City Brennon by Venice, 
Livius. lib. 2  which now is called Verona: who being not contented with a rich prey and booty, but gaped after more, lost all in the end. For having overcome the City of Rome, and caused the youth of the noble men to fly into the Capitol, having also overthrown the whole Army of the Romans before at the river Allia, & now having closed the chief of the Romans in the Capitol or Castle of Rome, conditioned that for a great sum of money he forthwith would remove his siege and departed: the Romans granted thereunto and as they were a weighing the money, he pulled forth his sword, and commanded them also to counterpoise that with gold, but the Romans refused that, as a matter unjust, and Brennus stood in controversy with them: In the mean time Camillus a banished Roman that was made Dictator in his absence, had gathered a company of them that fled out of the City before, and then suddenly set upon the Galls. Brennus then upon the sudden being abashed, flet, and left the whole treasure behind him, Camillus not resting until he had freed Italy of them: whereat Brennus chafing at the loss received by his own folly, thought to recover as much money in some other place, before he would dismiss his army, insomuch, that he through his desperate mind, set on the Temple of Apollo at Delphos, to have spoiled it for the great treasure therein: for which attempt of sacrilege he was sharply punished, with great extremity, his people slaying each other, and himself at the last was slain by his own hand. Then consider what peril and danger man doth run into, by striving to get those goods and muck of the earth, which being gotten is more perilous in possessing and keeping, than is danger in getting which falleth out oft with the loss of life, for enjoying of a mount of money, or a mass of treasure with great abundance of worldly wealth, doth often make the mind of man so haughty and proud, that he will not know his inferior; nay the mind of man is in those prosperities to make the whole earth to stoop and be obedient to his will: and not fully contented with that in the end snatcheth after the very heavens, and as it were despising the earth as a place unworthy of them, causing themselves to be called gods, and honoured amongst all nations and people, as their most principal & chiefest gods, commanding the whole world to stoop and be obedient to no other gods but themselves, despising to hear of their mortality, accounting themselves immortal: which vile error, and abominable opinion proceedeth, and is first stirred up, by the proud aspiring mind and unsatiable appetite of man, in coveting so inordinately after kingdoms, authority, worldly wealth, and such superfluous desire, whereby his mind is elevated to such lordly stateliness.  Scho. 
Truly sir, I must needs confess, that in these our days, gold is accounted a special and chief friend to man: yea, one of the nearest, and most surest at the time of need; going thorough with all causes, when other friends do often fail: the force whereof when the learned and pleasant Poet Ovid had thoroughly by experience found out, and sufficiently tried, at the last being banished Rome, living in exile, and being utterly forsaken of his dearest friends, with sorrow from the heart repeated these verses, saying; 
En ego non paucis quondam munitus amicis, 
ovidius de tristibus.   
dum slavit velis aura secunda meis.  
Vt fera nymboso tumuerunt aequora vento,  
in medijs lacera puppe relinquor aquis.  Which well may be englished after this sort. 

Behold how many friends were priest,  
while wealth did me support:  
And golden gale did drive my sail,  
so long would they resort.   

But when both winds and seas did rage,  
and fortune frowned grim:  
My friends soon left me in the floods,  
to sink or else to swim.   In like manner, we daily see that the friendship of many men continueth so long, as fortune remaineth; and are as companions and friends to fortune, following the table of the rich, proffering dear friendship, where gain is to be hoped after. Insomuch that it is apparently perceived they are friends to fortune and followers of wealth, and not sure aiders of distressed persons, so that it may be rightly said; 
Donec eris felix multos numerabis amicos:  
Nullus ad amissas ibit amicus opes.  Which I English in this sort, 
When riches rise of friends be sure  
to have at need great store:  
But wealth once lost, such friends pass buy  
as faund on thee before.  For where goods are, be sure there friendship cannot be wanting and where substance is decayed, there no longer is friendship to be hoped for: but as the old saying is, No longer penny, no longer paternoster. Again when such hunters after fortune chance to pass buy either town or villedge, spying some house of account: they strait way demand who dwelleth there; saying, What is he rich, what store of possessions hath he, will he play the good fellow, and spend frankly amongst good companions? But very few will ask how he came by his goods whether by good means or no: not demanding whether he be wise, learned, or what good government he hath to order or govern his possessions with all, unde habeas nemo quaerit sed oportet habere; From whence he had it, or how he came by it, no man inquires, but that if he have it, it sufficeth: saying further, Quantum quisque sua nummorum servat in arca, tantum habet & fidei: Even so much money as every man keepeth in his chest or coffer, even so much credit he shall be sure to purchase at all times: being thoroughly persuaded, that what so ever is wanting, by money it may be obtained: in so much that they are not ashamed to say, Et genus & formam regina pecunia donat, Lady money doth give both noble birth and comely shape, and also it maketh the brown and hardfavored maid, to be a tricksy and penny white wench. Which blind error, being sufficiently perceived by the wise philosophers, who were wont after a flouting and scoffing manner to deride and mock them; saying, O cives cives quaerenda pecunia primum, virtus post nummos, O ye Citizens, first of all money is to be sought for, virtue is to be followed after money is gotten. Yet notwithstanding Sir, although I manifest the common custom and usiall tradition of men in these our days: yet do I not forget your examples, which of late showed the great unquietness that daily happened to the possessors of such superfluous wealth and treasure, by daily disturbing and molesting their quiet state and peaceable life: which otherwise without such worldly muck, would be free at liberty from such care and trouble as often happeneth thereby, wherefore it is said, 
Pauca licet portes argenti vascula puri,  
Nocte iter ingressus gladium contumque timebis  
Et motae ad lunam trepidabis arundinis umbram,  
Cantabit vacuus coram latrone viator.  Which I English thus. 
Although of coin small store you bear  
yet traveling in the night,  
Both sword and spear you fear, and think  
each bush is priest to fight:  
And starting at a shaking reed,  
by fear do stop and stay:  
But he that wants the coin doth sing  
before the chief all way.  
Who can sing so merry a note  
As he that cannot change a groat,  But now sir, coming to your last conclusion, Is it possible that by any quantity of worldly goods, or by any honour and duty done to man, or by any felicity, or happy success in this world, so to elevate the mind of man with such stately pride, that he will not acknowledge himself to be a mortal man, but command himself to be honoured as an immortal God. Truly, I had thought the metal whereof man is made, could not have yielded forth that mind: but surely in mine opinion, they have neither the gift of temperance, nor of any other virtue, that so far run beyond the bounds of reason: climbing for that which their mortal carcases shall never attain unto. Truly I am hardly persuaded, but that the very nature of man itself, would abhor and detest such a mighty error, and most monstrous sin. Wherefore my request is, that you especially would unfold and relate this at large, as the most necessariest note to man of all the rest.  Fame. 
Doubt not my friend, but that the proud mind of man hath aspired as high as the heavens, coveting the place of a God. Nay, have thought themselves in the very place of the highest, commanding themselves accordingly to be adored and worshipped. Neither could divers proud kings of the earth, abide to hear of their mortality. For the Lacedaemonian king Pausanias, being bidden to a banquet, Simonides, a learned Poet of Gréece, 
Eli. lib. 4.  being at the same time thither also invited, who was requested by Pausanias the king, that he should speak somewhat which savoured of wisdom, wherein he might take pleasure. Whereat the good old man laughed, and said, Tunc memento te hominem esse. Then remember thou art a man. But Pausanias took it in very hard part, that he saucily would undertake to tell him of his mortality, accounted Simonides but a fool for his labour, thinking him to be drunk, or not well in his wits. But not long after, this proud king was taken prisoner in a great battle, and was committed to a strong prison in Chalciaeco, where he was miserably starved to death. But before he died, wrestling with hunger, and fight for life & death with famishment: further, seeing before his face a most miserable, lamentable, and woeful end, remembered upon a sudden, the saying of Simonides, crying out with a loud and pitiful voice, three several times in this sort, saying; O Simonides, magnum quiddam in tuo sermone inerat, ego vero inani persuasione sum adductus, ut eum nullius momenti putarem. O friend Simonides, in thy watchword was a great and weighty matter included; but as for me, I was carried away with vain persuasions, and made small account, 
Plutarch, de vita Craesi.  of thy wise warning. Also, Croesus' the rich king of Lydia, because Solon would not account of him above all mortal men then living, but rather preferred other honest men, in beautitude and happy estate, far above Crasus, nothing regarding the huge heaps of money, and mighty masses of treasure which he then possessed. Wherewith he was so elevated with pride, that he far excelled and exceeded all earthly and mortal creatures in his own conceit. Most sharply reprehending Solon, for that he so little regarded his mighty power, as to prefer any man in blessed estate above him, whom he ought not so much as once to compare with any mortal man: but rather to have lifted and extolled him to the heavens, and recounted him amongst the God's immortal. For which his stately pride, and vain folly, he was accordingly punished, as is before rehearsed. Where he most heartily repent himself of his foolish vanity. Nay there were divers kings, which not only contented themselves with the stately style of immortal Gods, or satisfied themselves when their subjects both separated, & made a difference betwixt them, as far as the heavens from the earth: but also commanded themselves to be adored and worshipped as the very living God, and that all knees should bow, and be obedient at the hearing of their names: as Nabuchodonozer, the great and mighty King of Babylon, when he perceived that his power made the world to shrink, grew so proud that he would be a God on the earth, setting up his picture or image, commanding those to be slain, which would not fall down & worship it: but see how the high God plagued him most justly for his proud folly, taking his kingdom from him for a time, to the intent he might know & perceive a difference betwixt the living God and his mortal carcase, being also transformed to an ugly shape of a beast, whose head was like the head of an Ox, his feet like to the feet of a Bear, his tail like the tail of a Lion, and every hair on his body as big as an eagle's feather: and he that would be a God before, thinking the earth too vile and base for him to tread on, was now feign to lay his flapping lips to the ground to gather his food, and did eat hay the space of 7. years together, being at the last again restored both to his former shape and dignity. Alexander Magnus when he had conquered most part of the world, 
Plut. de vita Alex.  returned to Babylon, holding there his Parliament, summoning the Kings of the earth to come and worship the son of jupiter, making such account of himself, putting divers to most cruel death, who would not consent to his vile folly, nor adore him as a God: yea and those that were his very friends, who had before time preserved him from death, and also from divers dangers, which otherwise had greatly annoyed and molested him, he plagued with most vile torments, because they would not uphold and maintain his monstrous error. Notwithstanding (for all these grievous punishments) there were that could not brook his stately pride, but sharply reprehended & laughed him openly to scorn: for the wise Anaxarchus hearing that this God fell sick on some sudden sickness, 
Dictum Anaxarchi.  and that the Physicians were sent for to him, who ministered purgations unto him, and prescribed certain receipts and potions for the recovery of his health; whereat he floutingly said thus: At deo nostro spes omnis in sorbilatione patellae pofita est? What? is all the hope of our goodly God come now to the sipping of a platter: for in such vessels were the confections and sirops given by the Physicians. Further saying after a scoffing manner, It had been necessary first, that he should have been God's fellow, before he presumed to be a God in deed: for so perhaps he might have purchased and obtained the good will of the Gods, in attaining to his desired seat. But he scaped not unpunished, to show the difference betwixt God and man, whose miserable death is needless to repeat, being before spoken of. Also Agrippa the son of Aristobolus, 
Plu de vita Agrippae.  after his good successes, by the lewd enticement of his flattering counsellors, and through the foolish persuasions of servants, was content to have such honour done to him as was due to a God, yea & also to suffer himself to be called by the name of a God, notwithstanding he had before been taken prisoner by Tiberius, and used most cruelly in prison, not like a man, for he was gyved & chained with mighty chains to iron. But being afterward delivered by Caligula, who made him King of the jews, setting a crown of gold on his head, giving him a chain of gold of the same weight that he had before worn in prison of iron: so that by such sudden changes, his mind was so elevated and lifted up with pride, that he no longer would be man, but suffered himself to be wondered at by the people as a God, causing himself so to be termed and called by his subjects: but in the end he was stricken with an Angel in the sight of an infinite number of people, wherewith his body smelled, and worms issued out with intolerable pains and horrible stench. In the which torments & grievous pains he looked on his evil counsellors and flattering servants, 
Dictum Agrippae. & mors eius.  saying; Lo, I whom you called a God, am now in the pains of death. And so most miserably he died. In like sort, Menecrates being but a Physician, because he had cured divers and sundry diseases to his great fame and commendation did so swell in pride, 
Eli. lib, 4.  that he called himself jupiter, or Iwans' Pater; this arrogant ass sent upon a time to Philip king of Macedony, a letter wherein was written this saucy salutation. 
Epist. Menecratis. & responsio Philippi.  Menecrates jupiter, Philipo salutem, etc. Menecrates jupiter to Philip sendeth greeting, etc. Whose vaunting vain the King perceiving, wrote back again in this manner and form following, Philippus Menecrati sanitatem, etc. Philip Macedo to Menecrates wisheth well fare, etc. Consulo ut ad Anticyram te conferas, I counsel thee to take thy journey to Anticyra, meaning by this dry frump, that the man was moonesick, and besides his wits; 
Eli. lib. 7.  the aforesaid Philip on a time made a sumptuous and costly banquet whereunto he invited and bad Menecrates, commanding his servants that there should be a table provided and set by itself in a place several and that a cupboard should be furnished with due preparation, and sweet perfumes tempered, burned, and scattered against the coming of the said Menecrates, all which costs was expended and laid out to pleasure the fine nosed gentleman, who sat solitary and alone at a side board by himself, whilst all the company that were bidden guests, tasted of the toothsome cheer and sumptuous feast which wanted no variety of delicates: but nothing was served unto the table where he sat by himself: notwithstanding he held him content for a season, and greatly delighted in the worship and honour which was exhibited to him being in a manner regal; saving that he was kept fasting, which was after a sort servile. But after that hunger gripped his guts; and appetite whetted his stomach, insomuch that his teeth watered at the cates he saw brought in, and none fell to his share; then was he taught by experience that he was not Menecrates jupiter, but Menecrates mortalis: and forthwith he arose from the table and went his way complaining on the injury which he suffered, being a bidden guest to that banquet whereof he not once tasted; thus did Philip cut Menecrates his comb, and detected the mad man's vanity with a notable flout. King Herod because he stood still to show himself to the people, when they magnified him as a God; 
Herod.  was wonderfully slain for his proud mind, for when on a time he had made a certain oration in the hearing of a number of people, he so pleased the company by his eloquence, that they made a great shout and cry: saying, It was the voice of a God, and not of a man, by reason whereof he was so elevated and lifted up with stately pride that he stood vaunting himself before the multitude, taking himself to be no less than they had termed him. For which proud folly, the living God to show that he was but man, did strike him in the presence of them all, in so much that he died with most grievous pains, living worms issuing out of his body, to the great terror of all the beholders: thus doth the immortal God revenge himself on those mortal & earthly gods, to make them know they are but men and soon shall turn to dust. Yet notwithstanding although they are taught by experience, and daily do see most plain and evidently, that man is mortal both from the Prince and Peer to the poorest people, yet for all that, when they do perceive their mortal carcases must needs to the ground perforce, they covet to leave behind them at least, their name and fame to be immortal: for which cause they strive mightily in their life time. And truly so in princes it cometh oft to pass, for they are long time remembered either for their virtue, liberality, courtesy, patience, and constancy: which no doubt, but is both to the pleasing of God and drawing on of their successors to imitate & follow their virtue. But if their immortal fame be purchased by their great tyranny, cruelty, unsatiable appetites, drunkenness, monstruous pride, or such like horrible vices; no doubt but they have registered themselves to everlasting ignomy, and perpetual infamy. But divers (so that they may after their death attain to perpetual remembrance) care not by what means they purchase that immortality. For, Herostratus a private Citizen, lived not contented, for that no man talked much of him. wherefore he thought that after his death he should be buried in the grave of oblivion, 
Actum Herostrati.  and fully be forgotten. In so much as when he heard the daily fame of worthy men set forth, some for virtue, some for valour: yea and again, some daily spoken of for their great cruelty, avarice, drunkenness, and such like vices, whose fame be also perceived to live after their death, grew in the end himself so desirous of perpetual remembrance, & that his name might come in question, to be as much noted in the City as the rest were. But when he had long time studied, and could not bring to pass any notable thing worthy to be talked of, at the last he went privily and set on fire the stately temple of Diana in the City, and utterly consumed it down to the ground. Thus when the most sumptuous & gallant temple was so vilely defaced, great inquisition was made in the City who should do that notorious fact, talking much of the matter, but none did know the man. For which cause Herostratus much repining in himself, that although the matter was spoken of in every part of the City, yet notwithstanding, his name was in no admiration amongst them. Wherefore he went presently to the Citizens & detected himself. For which cause be forthwith was most cruelly put to death. Then in truth he was therefore wonderfully spoken of, and is in remembrance at this day.  Scho. 
In mine opinion he hath very well deserved perpetual remembrance, who was of that mad mind to register such mere folly, to his everlasting reproach and ignomy, which is worthy to be noted throughout all ages. But it seemeth that the vices of men do much longer continue, and are of more ancient antiquity than their virtues. For a few special vices do dim and overshadow a great number of good qualities, and shall longer be remembered to their reproachful infamy, than the other to their praise and merit. We also read of divers notable Princes, who by a few inordinate follies, have drowned a number of their especial virtues, as most plainly appeareth in your last examples. For what good virtues are to be picked out of the lives of those, that for their mad pride would be accounted as Gods on the earth: although indeed divers good qualities, and examples of virtue proceed from them before. Yet notwithstanding, this most monstrous pride, obscured and blotted out their meritorious remembrance: shadowing, as it were with a thick and dark veil, their notable virtues from the face of the earth. Therefore I beseech you to unfold and lay open part of those monstrous vices, which are such enemies, and so repugnant to virtue, which suffereth not the worthy fame of man to rise and flourish, but croudeth, and thrusteth it down into the dark grave of oblivion, wherein is drowned his worthy merits, by the overflowing of his foolish folly.  Fa. 
There is remaining in man (my good friend) many notable vices, and sundry misgovernments, which are altogether repugnant to virtue; as the unsatiable pride of the mind, which is already spoken of, as the most monstrous folly and vice in man. The filthy vice of drunkenness is also most odious & detestable, and a great enemy to the quiet government of man, 
De ebrieta●e.  it bringeth also with it many vexations, troubles, enormities, & great inconveniences, being a disturber & daily breaker of peaceable amity and friendly tranquillity, purchasing both reproachful rebukes and sharp reprehensions in their life time, and also perpetual infamy & everlasting ignominy after their death. For as it is most certainly reported, 
Sextus Aurelius de vita Bonosij.  that Bonosus a Roman Emperor was such an exceeding quaffer and bibber of wine, that Aurelius writeth of him in this sort, saying, that He was not borne to lead a life, but to lift a pot. In the end, for his misgovernment by reason of his unsatiable quaffing, he was disinherited of his Empire by Probus, who succeeded him: for which cause he went and most shamefully hanged himself; who being beheld of many, they scoffed and flouted at him, saying, It was a tankard or wine pot did hang there, and not a man. In like sort, Tiberius the 3. Emperor of Rome, delighting in such inordinate quaffing and sucking of wine, 
Aur. de Tiberio.  and being so immoderately taken, would lie so disorderly drunk, that his own subjects reproachfully and despitefully termed him (whose name was Claudius Tiberius Nero) to be, Caldius Biberius Mero, which is, a most monstrous quaffer and greedy devourer of liquor. Also Philip King of Macedonia, son to Amintas, and father to Alexander the great; who although he had many good & most singular virtues, yet notwithstanding the vice of drunkenness so drowned all the rest of his good qualities and courteous behaviours; that the reproach of one vice was more often spoken of after his death, to the great slander of his noble acts, than all the rest of his most worthy merits could be noted to his everlasting praise. His property was (being either in garrison or camp) after a banquet or merry making, his head somewhat drowned in wine, as his common custom was, would set out on his enemies, and fight with them presently in that brave mood; which often turned to his great loss, and also made his body receive many a wound, which easily he might have prevented in his soberness. In his drunkenness he was always found a truce breaker, keeping neither promise nor faith which before he had plighted: insomuch as on a time being demanded why he kept not the league which he was sworn unto at Melitus, which indeed he had broken being in his accustomed folly, and not much better when he was asked the question. 
Dictum Philippi.  Tush (said he) as children are trained & beguiled with trifles, even so are men to be deluded and mocked with oaths. Of which doings and sayings, being sober he would greatly repent himself, and govern his proceedings wonderful wisely. For at what time he had gotten a great victory & conquest against the Athenians at Cheronea, doubting lest that he should grow too proud of this his great good hap, provided a bridle to keep under such inordinate pride, causing a boy every day in the morning without failing to come to his chamber door calling aloud saying, Philip remember thou art a man mortal. Thus he used to hear the boy thrice every morning before he would permit or suffer any suitors or others whatsoever, to tread over his chamber threshold, or come near his presence. He was also a man of great humility and patience; for on a time the Athenians sending an Ambassade to him, whom he patiently heard: and at their departure said; Know ye (said he) any thing wherein I may be beneficial to you, or your country: for that I greatly desire both to pleasure yourselves, and also to do the Town of Athens some good. Democrates at that time being companion in the Athenian embassage, said; Yes marry Philip, if thou wilt hang up thyself. Which answer sore troubled his companions. But Philip most gently and coollie answered, saying; Say ye to the Athenians, that they which for anger cannot abstain from such words, are much prouder of courage than they which suffer it spoken without punishment, and do easily digest so proud an injury. He had also like patience at Meton. For when he had long besieged the City, and could not get it, at last he gave a sharp alarm, and fierce assault on the City. In which conflict he lost his eye, to his great grief and pain. But when the Citizens of Meton humbly requested mercy at his hands when their town could hold out no longer, he (notwithstanding his grief and great injury) remitted their trespass upon their dutiful submission. In justice also (when he was sober) he was very upright: for on a time sitting in judgement, and hearing a matter in controversy before him, taking at that time little regard what was spoken, and sometime stumbring, at the last gave judgement against one Machetas, who crying out with a loud voice, said; O Philip I appeal. Whereat he being sore moved, with an angry look said; To whom dost thou appeal? I appeal (said Machetas) to Philip being thoroughly awaked, and not to thee, O king, when thou sleepest. Whereat he thoroughly awaking himself, perceived that Machetas had manifest wrong, after that he had heard the matter openly explained and related: giving thereunto good ear what was spoken. Yet notwithstanding, by no means he would reverse his judgement, but the sum of money wherein he was condemned, he paid it of his treasure himself. Yet again in the end he fell to his accustomed cups, forgetting himself, satisfying his greedy appetite in unmeasurable swilling and bibbing: insomuch, that when Pausanias, a lusty young Gentleman, came to him to complain of a great and vile injury which he had suffered by one of the king's noblemen, when he was but a youth and kept in the Court by reason of his nonage. And now craving for justice and equity at his hand, and to stand an upright king, and just governor betwixt them both. The abuse was, Attalus a nobleman in the Court, which was then counsellor to Philip the king, had taken the youth Pausanias, being a proper young boy, to his house; where he ordained a costly banquet, upon purpose making Pausanias' drunken, and afterward abused his body most filthly, after the detestable manner of the Sodomites. Which vile villainy the youth took grievously, and now being at man's estate, came to the king to complain of this most monstruous abuse which Attalus had offered him being but a boy. Whereat Philip (being at that time as it seemeth somewhat merry in his cups) deriding and mocking him for his labour with great laughter, nothing entering into the cause of the abuse. Wherewith Pausanias being sore moved, finding no redress of the king who should have showed him true justice. Wherefore he turned his anger from Attalus to the king himself: and as Philip came walking along in the midst of his friends, not once suspecting the matter, this Pausanias stabbed him thorough with a sword. So that Philip the king of Macedonia forthwith died. Thus ended this Prince by not ministering true justice to his Subjects, which especially proceeded by his accustomed folly in such excessive quaffing, who otherwise might well have been called the good Prince of Macedonia. In like case his son Alexander, surnamed the great, nothing digressing from the steps of his father Philippe, 
Eli. lib. 3.  but rather excelled him in this vile and detestable quality of quaffing. insomuch, that it is certainly reported of him, being free and at liberty from war, or at least having but a time of leisure from his affairs, would so continually use and frequent immoderate swilling and inordinate sucking of wine, 
Ebrietas Alexandri.  that a man should hardly find him sober, but more like a beast than so noble a King. For upon the first day of one month (as the report runneth) he drunk so much at Eumenes' Manor, that he was quite overcome, sleeping out his beastly surfeit all the next day, wherein he did nothing at all but rise a little from his drunken pillow, and gave commandment of the morrows voyage, saying, that it should be the next morning at the spring of the day. The 7. day of the same month in like sort, he feasted at the Lord Perdiccas his house, at what time he so pampered his paunch like an Epicure, with choice of cheer and change of wines, over drinking himself in such unsatiable sort, that all the 8. day next following was consumed in drowsy sleep. Furthermore upon the 15. he fell to wine bibbing again, and spent the next day after in sleep to digest his surfeiting folly. The xxiiii. day of the same month he supped at Bagoas table, whose Palace was distant from the Court above 10. furlongs: there swallowing wine as swine do their swill, was consequently drunk after a most odious and detestable manner, not ceasing until his unmeasurable appetite had abused and over loaded his vital senses, insomuch that drowsiness and sleep followed his intemperance successively. Again this is also remembered of him, that at what time (in the honour of Calanus Brachmanus the Indian Sophister, who burned his own body to powder) he appointed games of music, games of wrestling and such like spectacles; being desirous to show the Indians a pleasure. Adjoining to those former pageants the usual practice of himself, which was a common game of swilling wine, and troling the cup and the can from hand to mouth, wherein he that did best received for reward a whole talon; the second received for his guerdon 30. li. and the third received the sum of 10. li. for a recompense of his labour. In this exercise none could carry away the spurs from him, he himself was so peerless in Poto, potavi, & potatus sum, In troll the bole to me. But see what consequently followeth such unsatiable swilling, but only mad drunkenness, wherein he oft committed most shameful and horrible deeds, which after he most heartily repent: for at such time as in his wars he had gotten and achieved to his glory, 
justin. li. 12  many great and notable victories, he commanded a solemn banquet to be prepared, inviting thither all his Princes and Nobles, to rejoice and be merry with him for his great and happy successes, finding occasion at that time to extol himself to the heavens, being in his cups, in which fond vain he would not that any man should be compared to his mightiness, but still maintaining his own proud argument, saying, that there was no comparison with Alexander; to whose arrogancy the most part of the Nobility consented after a most flattering and pleasing manner. But in the end, one of the most gravest counsellors, and chiefest Noble man, whom Alexander held full deer, hearing the great vanity of his Lord, in boasting himself after such a ridiculous sort, put forth himself, and maintained the noble acts and deeds of King Philip, father to Alexander his Lord, extolling also his praise and worthiness; meaning thereby to make Alexander perceive, that there were, or else in time might be as worthy & valiant men as himself, not thinking he should offend the K. his master, by setting forth the praise of his father Philip. But Alexander being in a great rage that he preferred him not before all men, so fretted at the cause, that he snatched a weapon from one of his guard, and there to finish up the banquet, he thrust his old friend Clitus through that he presently died, rejoicing over the dead body of his slain friend, kicking and spurning the carcase, vauntingly saying; Now praise my father Philip, and extol his actions, and let the merits and worthiness of Alexander thy master pass. But after he had long beheld the body of his dear friend, his mind being somewhat quieted and pacified, and in the place of mad anger, mild and cool consideration had entered, calling to mind the person whom he had slain, and also the cause why he slew him, he at last began greatly to repent the deed, in that he had so vilely taken the praise of his father, 
Alex. se valdè penitet.  and slain his old friend so dishonourably in his drunken mood: turning now his anger into repentance, taking it so heavily, that he would die for sorrow, there was no remedy, being so mightily ashamed of his folly. First of all falling into most pitiful weepings casting himself on the carcase of his dead friend; embracing the corpse, feeling & handling the wounds which he had made in his frantic mood, filling them with his tears, making most pitiful and lamentable moan, as if the carcase should have heard his sorrowful outcries, plucking out the weapon, turning it to his own breast, and would forthwith have slain himself, had not the standers by hindered and prevented his purpose. Then also came to his mind his Nurse, who was sister to this Clitus whom he had so cruelly slain, being greatly ashamed, that he should requite and recompense her pains for nourishing and bringing him up, with the slaughter of her dear brother, by him most shamefully slain. These considerations caused him to remain in that obstinate mind, to die, and not to live any longer: for that also at the same time (to increase his sorrow) he called to mind the slaughter of many other right noble and valiant men, which he had before slain in his drunkenness: as namely, Parmenion, and Philotas, Aminthas and Attalus, Eurylochus, Pausanias, with divers other noble Macedonians, the shame and grief whereof did so gripe and prick his guilty conscience, that by no means he would be persuaded, but that forthwith he would die for the great grief thereof conceived; continuing certain days following in such sorrow, that he would receive no food or sustenance to preserve his life, not suffering his noblemen to dissuade him from his purpose: but remained in that obstinate mind for a certain space, notwithstanding his whole army came to him with pitiful cries, praying & beseeching him, that he would not so sorrow at the death of one, as thereby to lose all the rest of his army, which he had now conducted and brought so far from their home, into strange Regions, and barbarous Countries, amongst fierce and cruel people. Yet for all this, their humble petitions took none effect, until the wise Philosopher Calisthenes (who before had been fellow scholar with Alexander under Aristotle their Tutor) took on him with wise precepts of philosophy to alter and turn the mind of the king his dear friend. And in the end, by his great pains and industry brought it to pass, thorough the familiar acquaintance and ancient love which had been by their long fellowship. Now the courageous mind of Alexander being stirred up by the good persuasions of his dear friend Calisthenes, in so much that he presently again fell to war, and conquered many kingdoms, whereby he grew to such haughty pride, after the manner of the proud Persians and Parthians, as is before spoken of: for then, Non salutari, sed adorari se jubet. He would no longer be worshipped as a man, but adored as a God. For which cause when divers of the noble Macedonians would have dissuaded him from that foolish folly, he put them to most cruel and strange death and torments. But then again Calisthenes thought to persuade Alexander from such a mighty error, bearing himself somewhat bolder on the king than the rest, both for his approved wisdom, and wholesome counsel, which the king often had tried and felt, as also on the ancient familiarity, and long acquaintance which had been betwixt the king and him, so that he began earnestly to dissuade him from this arrogant and fond vain. But Alexander being so puffed up with pride, and desiring so unmeasurably to be a God, that he would not hear the admonition and wise counsel of his approved friend, 
justin. l. 15.  but was wonderfully moved against him for his labour: in so much that he caused him, who before had preserved and saved his life, 
Actum horribile.  to be most miserably martyred: cutting off his nose, lips, ears, hands, and other members of his body, to the pitiful pain and great deformity of poor distressed Calisthenes: commanding him also to be cast into a most vile and stinking dike or pit, there to languish until he died. But the noble Lysimachus greatly pitying the miserable pain & foul deformity of the wise Philosopher, gave him poison, whereby he ended his grievous smart. Wherewith Alexander being greatly offended, caused the said Lysimachus to be thrown into the lions den, to be devoured of those cruel & fierce beasts. Notwithstanding, he was delivered by the mighty hand of God, which as the common saying is, was no gramercy to the King.  Scho. 
O most barbarous and uncivil deed. But what other fruits are to be expected or hoped for at the hands of such immoderate quaffers, and unsatiable suckers of wine, than (in recompense of their good service) such cruel and outrageous dealings? Truly sir, as you have said, either he was wonderfully drowned in the pride of the Parthians, or else miserably overcome in his accustomed swilling, for otherwise such barbarous cruelty could never have proceeded from temperate government. The most wise and learned Erasmus having somewhat touched and nipped the monstrous vice of drunkenness, at last to make manifest that such horrible beastliness was untolerable, and mightily detested, meaning to quip the whole company and crew of such unsatiable ale-tasters, concluded in the end with this saying; 
Aphthoni us de castigatione ebriorum.  Vereor plurimum ne quisobrij sunt operam hanc meam in ebrios dicendi, ceu superuacaneam rideant dicent enim sobrijs castigatione hac nihil opus esse. Ebrios autem sic vino sepultos, ut nullius vocem exaudiant, etc. I fear me greatly saith he, lest the wise and sober will deride and laugh at this my superfluous and needles pains, in speaking so far against drunkards. For they may say there needeth no reprehension or castigation to the sober, and persons of good government. And as for those that are drunk, they are so buried in wine, and so drowned in their filthy folly, by keeping company with such good cup-companions, that they can hear no man's voice, understand no admonition of the wise, perceive no rebuke or sharp reprehension. Therefore saith he, as the body of a dead man doth seem not to be stirred by pricking or sharp pinching, so in like sort, no marvel though the mind and sense of a drunken man can by no honest warnings or good means be stirred up, or brought to amendment, for that his whole pleasure and delight is in such gulling & swilling. That most commonly, as Erasmus saith; Neque pes neque manus satis suum officium facit. Neither feet nor hands can well do their office. The legs not able to support and bear the weight of his body, nor his hands with the help of a staff able to support himself, but that he tumbleth and walloweth in his own vomit, and filth, more like a beast then man: which most filthy use and order, the wise Seneca perceiving, 
Seneca.  Ebrietatem nihil ait esse, quam voluntariam insaniam, said that Drunkenness was nothing else but a voluntary madness and wilful fransinesse; which with good government might easily be avoided and shunned: saying further, that Nothing did more better become and beautify man than soberness: so in like manner, nothing did seem more filthy nor more to be detested than a drunken man, as already you have set down and manifested as it were to the beholder's eye, showing the wilful folly, & desperate madness, which the unsatiable bibbers of wine, do over rashly commit to their everlasting reproach and ignomy, & also in the end to their great sorrow and displeasure: for it doth not only cause their infamy to be perpetually registered, but also their own hands to commit most horrible and shameful murders, whereby they oft imbrue themselves in the blood of the innocent and hurtless person, which no doubt but in the end is most sharply punished on the committers.  Fa. 
My good friend, first I beseech you to mark diligently our purposed proceedings, then shall you right well perceive to what end our conference tendeth, and also to note that he who liveth not in contentment, doth run headlong to unsatiable covetousness, from that greedy appetite to monstrous pride; from that intolerable vice to most lascivious and licentious living; from that vile and detestable sin to most odious and filthy quaffing and imimoderate bibbing; which bad life and disordered government, doth soon purchase to the practisers thereof most condign punishment, as by our aforesaid conference doth most evidently appear: were it possible that the blood of the innocent should not be revenged, or that the murdering hand should scape unpunished: No, there is no doubt, but that the living God doth aswell plague the Prince and peer as the meanest person for such cruel and tyrannous deeds, & will be sharply revenged on their intemperancy. For first it is to be considered, that for lack of temperance man runneth headlong to those wilful murders, either by an over coveting mind, or by desperate quarreling, or otherwise being overcome by inordinate swilling and unsatiable quaffing of liquor, all which proceedeth through the default of the aforesaid gift. jezabel wife to Ahab King of Samaria, when the King her husband had required Naboth to part with his vineyard, which lay very convenient for his use, proffering him as great possession in some other place, but Naboth denying his suit as a thing unjust, saying, God for bid that I should pass over my patrimony which my Father left me: but be contented therewith, and leave it to my son, as it was left me. Wherewith the king being not content went home sorrowing, remaining very pensive and heavy for that he could not lawfully or without great shame take away the vineyard of Naboth: but when jezabel fully perceived the cause of the Kings sorrowing and heaviness, she directed letters to the Rulers of the place where Naboth dwelled, making them privy of her bloody practice, wishing and commanding them to proclaim a fast in their City, and then to hire and suborn two witnesses, that should falsely accuse him before the judges, and presently thereupon to lead him out of the City, and stone him to death: which cruel doom and execrable murder was forthwith accordingly executed. But notwithstanding, although for a time revengement was deferred, yet could she not scape unpunished: for so soon as jehu was anointed King, he was straightly commanded from the very mouth of God, to persecute the house of King Ahab with great cruelty, and not to leave any one living that should piss against the wall; wherefore he presently warred on the City of jezrael, and spoiled the house and friends of Ahab, until he came where jezabel lodged, who was most cruelly used, in consideration of her former trespass: for she was thrown and tumbled down headlong from a lofty window to the hard pavements of the street, wherewith her blood sprung about the posts and walls of the street, so that dogs came and licked up her blood, and eat her flesh, the rest being trodden to dirt with horse-feet and marching soldiers: insomuch that there remained no more unspoiled and defaced, but only the palms of her hands. Thus was jezabel most cruelly slain and miserably used by the very commandment of God, for the murdering and shedding of innocent blood. Also Olimpias wife to Philip the Macedonian king, and mother to Alexander the great, committed divers most horrible & shameful murders: 
Diodorus Siculus. fol. 253  namely, first it was suspected and laid to her charge the consenting to the murder of her husband king Philip, who was slain by the hand of Pausanias. For after this Pausanias had traitorously slain the king her husband, & had received just punishment for his villainy, she openly mourned for the death of the said murderer. And also it was well known that she had provided horses ready against the deed was committed, to the end the slayer of her husband might the better escape. Further, when his body did hang on the gallows, she came thither the first night and crowned the dead head of Pausanias with a crown of gold, taking also the carcase from the tree, burying it most nobly, and made a famous Tomb in the same place for his remembrance. Which causes being thoroughly considered, can import no otherwise than an accessary and guilty mind. This Olimpias after the death both of Philip her husband, and Alexander her son, in the time that the Macedonian Princes, and successors to her son Alexander, did contend and strive for the superiority and regiment of their dead master, came down into Macedon with a great power, to war on Philip king thereof, and Eurydice his wife, who at that time were lawful inheritors of that kingdom, and gave them battle: In which conflict she took the King prisoner, and all his whole family. But Eurydice his wife fled for her safety into the City Amphipolis, where not long after she also was taken. Then seized Queen Olimpias into her hand, all the whole Realm of Macedon: howbeit she very ungently entreated these her prisoners. For first she caused the king and Eurydice his wife to be put into a strait prison, that they could hardly turn themselves within, and had their meat given them in at a little hole: but after they had been there awhile thus miserably dealt withal, Olympias perceiving that the Macedonians for very compassion they had of the said captives, greatly maliced and hated her, wherefore she caused King Philip by certain soldiers of Thrace to be slain, after he had reigned king six years and four months. And for because that Eurydice not well digesting her shameful cruelty in so treacherously betraying her dead husband, and also somewhat insolently spoke, & said that she had better right and title to the crown and realm of Macedonia than Olympias had: she therefore either without regard of the late dignity royal that the said Eurydice had been in, or yet the common mutability & variety of fortune, sent her three liberal gifts to make her choice thereof: which was, a sword, a halter, and poison, to end her life withal, who of necessity was forced to take one. Thus when the woeful Queen, had received this present of Olympias, seeing no remedy, but that needs she must take and accept of one, she said, The Gods grant like choice to this cruel Olympias, and that she may receive like guerdon for her liberality herein. Thus when she had adorned the body of her husband Philip slain in her presence, and stopped up the wounds to cover the deformity of them; then refusing the aforesaid presents of the courteous Queen, in the best manner she could with her own girdle strangled herself, and so died. Yet was not Olympias satisfied with these lamentable and execrable murders, but soon after she had thus shamefully put them to death, she made Nicanor Cassander's brother to be slain, and spitefully defaced the tomb of Iolas his other brother. Over and beside this, she picked & weeded out an hundred noble men of Macedon, which were friends to Cassander, and caused their throats to be cut: for which cruel and barbarous deed, Cassander being moved, gathered an Army minding to revenge himself on the Queen for her great cruelty, and drove her at the last to the City Pidue, where he besieged her long, until such time that victual failed her: yet notwithstanding she would not yield, although both her company and the Citizens died wonderfully by famine and grievous plagues; which chanced to them, by reason of the dead bodies which lay in the town ditches unburied most horribly stinking: insomuch that there died daily in the town through these two causes aforesaid, very many citizens and soldiers. Being also forced through extreme and miserable hunger to feed on the dead carcases of the pined men. The townsmen seeing their lamentable estate, yielded up the City against Olympias will, and humbled themselves willingly to the mercy of Cassander. Then after this Queen was taken prisoner, Cassander caused all the friends of them whom she had murdered, to accuse her in the common place of judgement before the assembly of the Macedonians. Which thing they accordingly did: where the Macedonians in the absence of Olympias having there neither any patron or advocate to defend her unjust cause, condemned her to death. For execution whereof Cassander sent 200. of his trustiest soldiers to kill her, which entered her Palace where she was. Straightway so soon as she perceived them coming, she marched courageously toward them, willing them to execute their office. With which boldness the soldiers were all astonished, saving certain of the friends of those whom she had slain before, which stabbed her thorough the body, whereof she presently died. Yet this manly courage is to be noted in her, that after she felt the wound to be mortal, and that she fainted, ready to yield up her life, she nesled her garments about her body, plucking down her neither skirts to her feet, 
justin. li. 14  having a womanly care in all respects, lest that by striving with life and death, she might show or uncover the undecent parts of her body. Thus died the mightiest Princess under the heavens, for a just revenge of her former cruelties and merciless murders; she was daughter to Neoptolome King of Epire, sister to Alexander then King of Epire, wife to Philip King of Macedon, mother to Alexander the great: and yet for all these high and mighty alliances, the living God would not suffer her to scape unpunished, but caused such measure to be given to her, which she before had meated to other. In like sort Agrippina daughter to the noble Germanicus, first being married to Domitius, & had by him Nero, 
Plu. de vita Neronia.  and afterward was married to Claudius, whom she poisoned with his son Britannicus, to the end she might make her first son Nero Emperor; which indeed came accordingly to pass: but now her son Nero being Emperor, & possessing the crown, by means of his mother's bloody act; whether it were that the living God would not suffer her to scape unpunished, or the wicked inclination of Nero; but howsoever the case stood she received like reward; for her son caused her to be most cruelly tormented, commanding her womb to be opened & cut up, that he might see the place wherein he lay: and in the mean time while she was suffering such miserable torture, he gave so little regard to the woeful mournings & pitiful cries of his natural mother, that he played on a cistern the destruction of Troy, and sung most pleasantly to his instrument. Notwithstanding although he was ordained to scourge and plague his mother, for the aforesaid horrible fact, yet scaped not he unrevenged for so vile a deed. For when he had a time reigned in Rome, persecuting the guiltless and innocent, the Romans at last detesting his bloody disposition, seeing that his whole delight was in tormenting his native Country men, began so deadly to hate him for his cruelty, that by the whole consent of the Romans, the Senate decreed this sharp sentence against him, Vt more maiorum, collo in furcan coniecto, virgis adnecem caederetur: his neck being fastened in a yoke or fork, after the vilest order, (which was a most monstrous reproach, and servile slavery, amongst the Romans) should be beaten to death with rods. But Nero having intelligence of their decree, fled in the middle of the night out of the city, taking with him not past one or two of his lewd companions, who also perished with him for fear of the Romans. Thus being scaped from the punishment which was appointed for him, he now determined to die a desperate death, requiring one of his friends which was with him to stab him through with his sword, that he might end his misery. Who when he had denied his suit as a thing unjust, 
Aurelius' fol. 153.  Nero cried out saying; Itanè nec amicum habeo, nec inimicum: dedecorosé vixi, turpius periam. Surely, neither have I friend nor enemy, (meaning no friend in the City, to defend his cause; nor enemy now with him to end his life) I have lived vilely, I will perish as filthly: and therewithal thrust himself through, and so died. Thus miserably ended Domitius Nero, after he had revenged the cruel murder which his Mother committted, and in the end himself was driven to the same shore, and forced to arrive at the same Port of miserable Destiny, to be cut off with untimely death for his most vile slaughters and cruelties. Also Aristobulus, son to Hircanus, unnaturally committed to prison his mother, and his brother Antigonus, and after most cruelly slew his said brother in prison; for which grievous offence, God so struck him, that all his bowels rend in his belly, and he vomited up all the blood in his body, and so most pitifully he died in recompense of his former cruelty. In like manner, Antiochus Illustris son of the great Antiochus, did also embrew his hands in the blood of his friends. For giving his sister in marriage to Ptolomaeus King of Egypt, and under pretence of familiarity came to visit his brother in law, under the colour of alliance, and that he might by treacherous means take from him the Kingdom of Egypt: and finding him sitting at supper saluted him with his sword, which presently he thrust through his sides: thus traitorously he slew his brother Ptolemy, and ceased on all Egypt to his own use. And after he had done many other cruelties, at last he was stricken with a most horrible sickness, that his body stank, and his flesh was so corrupt and putrefied, that no body could abide the savour thereof, living worms creeping and scrawling out of his body: insomuch, that in his great extremity, he was forsaken of all his friends and servants, and so died; as a just recompense for his villainy. It is farther well known, that Archelaus King of Macedonia was murdered by the hands of Cratenas his Paramour, who sore thirsted after his said kingdom: which shameful act being committed, and Cratenas placed in the regal Throne, according to his long desire, reigned King not past three or four days, but was himself slain in semblable manner by other men's means, whereunto this saying may be well applied; 
Qui struit insidias alijs: sibi damna dat ipse.  
Who seeketh other men to ensnare,  
Nets for himself he doth prepare.  So that this man possessed his princely seat but a short space, which he had purchased by wilful murder. I trust it is very well known also to the English Nation, what cruel murders and miserable slaughters were committed by King Richard the third, brother to Edward the fourth, and son to the Duke of York, for that the Chronicles do make mention thereof at large. First bringing his own brother the Duke of Clarence to untimely death, then showing his tyranny on the Barons and Nobles of the Land; and after that his brother Edward the fourth died, he miserably smothered the two sons of his said brother Edward, which were committed to his tuition and government, not sparing the nearest of his kin, but imbruing himself in their blood, to the end he himself might possess the Crown and Diadem of the Realm: which in deed consequently came to pass. But were it possible that such pitiful murders, and execrable slaughters as he committed, both in slaying of the Nobles of the Land, and also in the depraving of his sweet Nephews of life and Kingdom, should scape unrevenged: No truly, it were altogether wonderful, and very unlikely, but that the living GOD (who punisheth with shame such shameful murderers) would be sharply revenged on him for his monstrous cruelty in so slaying of the innocent. For not long after, he was slain in Battle by the right noble Henry Earl of Richmond: where his mangled corpses was laid (being first despoiled of arms and stripped naked) over a horse back, hanging down in such sort, that the filthy dirt and mire did both spot and sprinkle the ill shaped carcase of this abhorred Tyrant; which was a most odious and detestable sight, yet too worthy a funeral, for so murderous a wretch. This recompense happened to him, for his intolerable cruelty. Thus it plainly appeareth, that murder is sharply punished, as well in the Prince and Peer, as in the silliest sot, and poorest slave: for further proof whereof, to show the just revengement of God on meaner personages, this one example shall suffice.  
The true and certain report goeth, that one Macharcus a sacrificing Priest of God Bacchus, dwelling in Mityline, in his exterior countenance and favour resembled great gentleness and courtesy, yet in life, manners, and inward practices no man that lived could be more wicked or abominable. It fortuned on a time that a certain soiorner lodged at his house, and committed to his credit a certain sum of money in gold: this Machareus being assaulted with avarice, and carried as it were into captivity to covetousness, makes a hole in a secret place of the temple with a mattock, and therein hides the gold which he was put in trust withal. After a few days were expired, the sojourner desired to have his own again: upon which request, Machareus led the man (mistrusting no mischief, nor doubting any danger) into the temple: where, under pretence, cloak, and colour to restore the man his right, and having (as he thought) opportunity, time, and place to work his villainy. murdered the man; which being compassed to his contentation, he took up the gold, and laid the right owner thereof (whom he had injuriously slain) in the self same place, covering him over with earth, and dammed up the pit, in such sort as all things in his thinking were cock sure, persuaded himself that as men be deceived and mocked, so the powers supernal (the eternal God I mean) might be deluded and blinded. But the matter fell out unhappily enough, and had another event than was hoped for on Machareus part; for after a few days were passed, the solemn Service and Obsequies of GOD Bacchus (which were yearly) approached, and was celebrated according to ancient custom: wherein Machareus behaving himself after a gorgeous and glorious estate, being very busy in the festival Ceremony, it chanced that his two sons which were left at home as that day, did imitate their Father's order in holy service, in such sort and effectual manner, that the younger brother cast himself prostrate on the ground, and laid his head upon a block very meekly, which the elder brother with an old rusty whinyeard or cankered woodknife did chop off from the shoulders. Anon came in the servants which dwelled in the house, & seeing the childish murder that was committed, gave a great shout, making a terrible outcry and pitiful noise, as men marvelously confounded and amazed at sight of so strange and bloody a spectacle. The vehemency of which lamentable clamour and outrageous roaring, speedily pierced the ears of the frighted mother, who came like a mad woman to understand the meaning of the matter: and then seeing one of her sons slaughtered, and weltering in streams of blood, and the other holding still a rusty glaive in his hand, & all to be stained with the crimson blood of his brother's flesh, she caught up a firebrand very fiercely, and in the heat of her great rigour did so thump and souse her living son, that he died the death in her presence. Then was tidings brought to Macareus, what butcheries were committed at home in his private house, who immediately upon the report thereof left the holy service, & like a man moonesick, or rather a fiend of hell, ran home with might and main, having in his hand at the same instant a burning torch or taper, where with he did so beat, bounce, and baste his wife over every limb and joint, that she in like case was soon dispatched of life. Thus when the multitude had intelligence of these rare and lamentable murders, they forthwith apprehended Macareus, and urged him thorough examination and torment to confess each circumstance of this bloody Tragedy: and as he was opening the matter, and discovering the mischief which he had committed in the holy temple, profaning a several and sacred Chapel, with two notorious and inexpiable trespasses, the pains of death oppressed him, insomuch that he died suddenly before the whole assembly of people. These miserable chances happened to Macareus by reason of his monstruous murders, as a terrible and most fearful example to the followers and imitators of his horrible profession.  Scho. 
O miserable end, and yet deserved hap: no better success is to be hoped for than such ruin and cruel destruction to those that do imbrue their hands in the blood of the innocent, contrary to the law of God and nature. Besides these your examples, we see daily what revengement falleth to the share of those bloody minded persons, though their villainies for a time he did, yet in the end the true God will not suffer them to scape unpunished. For I think is no people of civil government so void of good and wholesome laws in this cause, but that they provide a sharp punishment for wicked murderers, provided always, that whosoever shall transgress, or willingly break the said ordinances and decrees, that then such persons by virtue of the law shall suffer worthy punishment: namely, loss of life. In your examples it is also manifest that those whose power and person far exceedeth and surmounteth a law, and whose high dignity disdaineth to stoop to the law and decree of the land notwithstanding, when neither people nor Peers may decree sentence against them for such detestable sin and cruel murders, the living God plagueth them in the end with most sharp and grievous punishments without remorse, being much higher above them, than they above their law, whereby it seemeth that if Princes by reason of their high estate and dignity, do escape the punishment and decreed sentence of a law, yet the very providence of the highest bringeth them in the end to open confusion & utter destruction, as your aforesaid examples have verified it. Further it remaineth to us, that at what time the people craved answer of the Oracles, expecting from thence the very flat determination of their God, heard often most sharp decrees against murderers, by their divine Oracles pronounced: for at such time as a certain Musician who played on the harp singularly well, did both play and sing at Sybaris in a solemn feast, made and set forth in the honour of juno, there at that time arose about him a great variance amongst the Sybarites, some saying they never heard his equal, other affirming they have often heard his Peer and and better thus diversly contending, in the end it grew amongst them to be a great quarrel, and the contention could no otherwise be ended but by harness and weapon, the guiltless Harper seeing the controversy like to come to such issue, knowing he had offended neither party, nor willing to stand in their presence any longer to move their patience, meekly departed from thence to the altar of juno, thinking thereby to be safe from their fury, but the Sybarites being mightily moved against the original cause of their argument, though he indeed had nothing offended them, yet notwithstanding some of them ran to the altar, laying hands on the Musician, and there without respect of the place, or pity of his guiltless person, they with murdering hands most cruelly slew him. For which monstrous deed their God whom they served, in sign of wrath, caused the Temple to flow with blood like streams of water from a river immediately after that slaughter, than the Sybarites sending to the Oracle for counsel in this case of cruelty, received this sharp and bitter answer, saying; 
Cede meis mensis manibus nam sanguis adhaerens,  
Distillansque recens prohibet tibi limina templi.  
Non tibi fata canam, magnae junonis ad aram  
Musarum innocuum stravisti, caede ministrum.  
Non immortales hoc dij patienter inulum,  
Si quis enim prius scelerata è mente profectum  
Committat facinus, gravis hunc propè poena sequetur.  
Non exorabit, neque si genus ab jove summo  
Duceret ipse suo collo, collísque nepotum  
Hoc luit, & generis cumulatum damna ferentur.   
Which may be englished after this manner. 
My table come not near, for hands with blood imbrued  
Which floweth fresh, from temple gates doth thee exclude.  
Thy fate I will not tell, by junos' altar thou hast slain  
A guiltless soul, unto the muses nine who did retain.  
The immortal gods on this foul fact shall sharp revengement take.  
For he which wilfully offends and doth a mischief make  
Of mind malicious, torments strong shallbe his hoped hire.  
No suit may serve but smart he must, though jove be blazed his sire  
His head, & all his children's heads, upon a bloody block  
From shoulders shallbe chopped, ill luck shall light upon his stock.   
Wherefore it is manifest, that the very Oracles cried out, and prophesied revengement to those cruel murderers, excluding them from the very threshold of the holy temple, as men not worthy to tread on sacred ground: yet notwithstanding, the hand of the guiltless man may shed the blood of the innocent person against his will, and not be holden as culpable or guilty in murdering his friend; for it is certainly reported, that at what time three young men being all of one City, went to Delphos to ask counsel, and to be advertised by the Oracle of a weighty cause, falling into the hands of thieves, one of the three tendering his own life, took his heels and ran away, and so escaped peril. Another (after all the villains were hacked, he wen, & killed, except one, whom he also invaded with might and main) bent his force to have slain the thief which then lived: but it fortuned (ah grievous chance) that as he foined with his sword at the villain, thinking to have thrust him thorough, he miss his mark, and smote his own fellow with such a bloody blow, that he gave him his death's wound. To him therefore that by flight avoided danger this answer was made by the Oracle, pronouncing him guilty of the murder of his fellow, and therefore not worthy to come into holy Temple, saying; 
Occidi socium presence & passus amicum,  
Non tibi vaticinor, sacro te proripe templo.  
Thou being present didst abide thy fellow to be slain:  
To thee I do not prophesy, my holy place refrain.   
And to the other ask advice of the Oracle, this answer was rendered, for all that his hand had committed the act. 
Defendens socium, verso mucrone necasti,  
Purior es manibus nunc quàm esse solebas.  
Thou seeking to defend thy mate, didst kill him with thy blade  
Thy hands then they were wont to be are now much cleaner made   
Wherefore it seemeth that the accessary is in as damnable a case as the executor himself, of such villainy: for here the Oracle pronounceth him as guilty, and not worthy to stand in the Temple, for seeing his fellow slain which he might easily have saved: being adjudged guilty in this; then much more if he had consented willingly to the murder of his fellow which was slain, but thorough his negligence. See again what a comfortable answer the other received, who committed the slaughter with his own hand, and for that his mind was free from the very thought to hurt his loving friend and fellow, was adjudged by the Oracle the true defender of his slain friend. To conclude, according to the answer of the Oracle, it is lesser offence and easier to be pardoned when the hand doth slay, the mind being guiltless, and not consenting to the murder, than if the mind do willingly stay although the hands cannot execute the act, 
Vt ait Cicero pro Roscio Amerino.  but suffereth the party to live. Solon when he had made many good and wholesome laws, ordaining divers institutions and decrees in his commonwealth to maintain and support virtue, and also sharply to correct and reprehend vice, lewd persons, and such disordered fellows as contrary to the law viciously lived in the weal public. Having thus (as he thought) confirmed and established his Country in civil government by the virtue of his decrees and statutes, this question was demanded of him, saying; Why had he not among so many good institutions, wholesome laws, and prescribed directions, set also down, what punishment should fall to the share of those, who with willing consent murdered or deprived father or mother of life, and so should be found guilty of parricide? Whereunto he answered, saying; Truly it falleth out not through negligence and forgetfulness herein: but rather when I had thoroughly considered on the cause, I bethought me, that such offences were mightily repugnant to nature, and therefore it could not be that any so unnatural should commit such wicked and detestable villainy, contrary to the law of God and nature, on those whom first procreated & made them of nothing: and therefore (said he) as a needless thing have I left it out from the other decrees. But the ancient Romans when they had perceived, that this odious and detestable sin began to be practised amongst them, and in other Regions and Dominions under their jurisdiction and government, (as most commonly the wicked inclination of man's nature is so apt and prone to commit such villainies how far so ever they be repugnant to nature, that no unnatural act or villainy can remain unaccomplished) they then seeing such impiety and unnatural actions proceed and daily to go forward among them, that in that behalf they were forced to constitute and ordain this sharp sentence and punishment against all such wicked offenders, provided always that whosoever should be found guilty of parricide, 
Pena parricidij.  should thus be used; He should be put into a sack or hollow thing, and therein also should be put a Dog, a Cock, a Viper, and an Ape; which thing being shut up, and closed fast together again, should be thrown into the next Sea, River, or Flood thereunto adjoining, there most miserably to die in the hateful company of those, which by nature could never abide or brook each other. And wherefore: Et enim ei repentè coelum, solemn, aquam & terram adimerunt, ut qui eum necasset, unde ipse natus esset, careret quoque ijs rebus, ex quibus omnia nata esse dicuntur. Because he should want or be deprived of both the sun, air, water and earth, for that he had slain or murdered him, who first was the cause of his life: therefore he should want the benefit of such necessaries, from whence all things are said to be procreated and engendered. For next under God, the four Elements are said to have the chiefest regiment and government of all natural and earthly things.  Fame. 
Well friend, I perceive that you are herein certified, that murder is a most monstrous and heinous offence, and that also from one degree to another, the wilful committer scapeth not unpunished. For if (as you say) the Oracles have pronounced such sharp sentence against them, not permitting such to come into the temple: then no doubt but that the living God will much more & with far greater punishment, torment such wilful and malicious offenders; and therefore (as I say) seeing you are herein so well satisfied, perceiving so effectually the tenor of our conference, I will with a more willinger mind proceed and go forward according to forepast promise. But I greatly fear me, lest that already I have passed and far gone beyond the bonds of decorum, in being so tedious and over troublesome in so many superfluous examples, which well might have been related and made manifest in a much more briefer sort, less troubling the ears of the willing hearer whose quick conceit & capacity, soon by a part conjectureth and discerneth the whole: which error & troublesome cause, I shall right willingly be content hereafter to reform, using in the blamable place of tediousness, a more brief and shorter order.  Scho. 
Sir then, as I have said before, you should offer to me great discontentment, for that I as greatly delight in the histories and tragical reports, as no other conference can so well please me (your intent and meaning therewithal being thoroughly perceived) therefore sir I beseech you, not to think, that you so far exceed the bonds of decorum, as that hereafter you should with brevity discourse of causes, whereby I might remain altogether unacquainted, of so many especial notes and good examples, wherein I shall never be tired or overwearied, but rather impute that fault to mine importunacy: and so shall you clearly free yourself from any such supposed blamable suspicion.  Fame. 
With very good will, I shall be content accordingly to proceed, and if you in like manner refuse not to bear the blame of the aforesaid suspicion: therefore whereas we have already sufficiently touched the monstrous pride of man's mind, and what in the end is gained thereby; yet notwithstanding there is another kind of pride in the garments & wearing apparel: for the ancient Proverb is, 
Vetus Proverbium.  Per exteriora, interius cognoscamus, By the outward show of brave apparel, we may know the inward vainglorious mind. But by the way, this rule is no certain consequence, but as we see doth often fail and deceive us: for many will wear a brave cloak, whose coat and inward apparel is velvet, I mean pride to be covered with a simple garment, and a meek and humble mind shadowed with rich array. 
Eli. li. 6.  The wise Socrates when he marked the stately pride of the arrogant Antisthenes for he did always wear the ragged piece of his threadbare cloak outward in sight, being a wonderful proud minded fellow, making show as though he had been contented with base and homely raiment; being openly known that he might have had better if he would, was thus quipped for the pride of his mind, by Socrates; Quin desinis, arrogantiam tuam nobis prodere? Wilt thou never (saith he) leave bewraying unto us thy vain pride and foolish folly? As who would say, we know the arrogancy of thy mind by this thy counterfeit baseness. Also Diogenes when he was come to Olympia, and saw certain young men of Rhodes, gorgeously decked, and sumptuously appareled, laughed at them, and said; Hoc nihil est preter fastum; This is nothing else but mere pride and haughtiness. The same Diogenes again chancing at the same time to see certain Lacedæmonians in ragged, ragged, rent, riven, slovenly and loathsome garments, said; Haec longè alia est superbia: This also is a kind of pride, but far different from the former. 
Laer. f. 586.  This also is to be remembered, that at what time an ancient and grave Father of Ceus came to Lacedemonia: being puffed up with pride, and swelling with insolency, was for his fatherly old age had in reverence and honour: insomuch that he coloured his hoary head overgrown with grey hairs. This old man coming into an Assembly of the Lacedæmonians, discovered his head for them to behold, and made a declaration of such matter whereabout he came, But Archidamus King of the Lacedæmonians rising up, said in this wise; What sound or true tale can the tongue of this fellow report, whose heart is stained with the spots of hypocrisy and double dealing, and whose head is coloured with counterfeit comeliness? Thus would he in no case allow the words of the old man, but utterly rejecting them, taunted the evil inclination of the old man's nature, by those circumstances which were object to sight, and apparent to the eye.  
It is also certainly reported, that Condalus the Lieutenant of Mausolus' King of Caria, perceiving the people of Lysia (wherein he was Lieutenant) to have a great pride in their trim bushes and long hair, 
Plu. de vita Mausoli.  on a time feigned that he had received letters from his Master the King, that the People of Lysia should cut off their bushes of hair, and send them to him. Wherewith (perceiving they were all astonished, fearing lest that they should lose their bravery wherein they much delighted,) he said, If they would charge themselves with a piece of money, that then he would not doubt, but to find out means, that men's hair should be bought in Greece, and sent to the King his Master, therewithal to satisfy his mind, and they should keep and wear still all their trim locks and bushes: which folly and pride to maintain, they presently collected an infinite sum of money, which every private man disbursed willingly.  
Therefore my good friend, we see that this vain and foolish pride hurteth none so much as themselves: wherefore it is more tolerable than the other though in both very bad: for the stately pride of the mind far surmounteth the foolish pride of apparel (as is before more sufficiently spoken of) the boy with his golden shoes, his gilded pouch, his cap and feather, and such other his childish toys, thinketh himself and peerless person, thrusting himself into the sight and view of his companions and childish mates, craving no other Kingdom or glory than such peacocks pride, offendeth none nor abuseth any so much, as his own vain conceit and foolish fantasy. But the pride of the mind lieth hid covertly, being shrouded and shadowed in base and simple gear, reaching & catching after kingdoms, to the great hurt and prejudice of many. For when as a certain Roman professing meekness under the colour of homely garments, being a man of good account in his country, and had in great reverence and estimation, yet notwithstanding would always go barefooted, and in wonderful simple attire, having also his table where he dined always covered with a net, to make a further show of his meek mind far to differ from stateliness. By which counterfeit humility be attained to divers stately offices among the Romans which were of great and high dignity. In the end the Romans thinking none more fit than he to govern, by reason of his humility & meekness, insomuch that they preferred him to the chiefest seat and highest place of the Roman commonwealth. But now being settled in this place of Majesty, and sound confirmed in the seat of authority, being now come to the very top of his long hoped for desire, thought it not good to counterfette any longer with the Romans, but turned his meekness to most haughty stateliness, and in stead of his base attire he had the most gorgeous apparel and costliest garments, with precious jewels, & rich stones that might any where be found. And when his servants came according to their accustomed manner to spread the net on his table where he should feed or dine, thinking that the same meekness had still been in their master, he said; Away with the net ye fools, for the fish is already caught.  Scho. 
Truly a pretty jest, the fish being caught, to what end serveth the net. The old proverb before rehearsed, was not verified in him: for the Romans (belike) trusted over much to that old saying, By the outward show ye shall know the inward conversation. Wherein they clearly deceived themselves: for after he possessed his place, Honours mutabant mores, Honour and dignity changed his former manners. Surely the stately pride of this man being so secretly covered with meekness, far more offendeth than the meek and simple mind whose body is richly furnished with costly apparel of all vain and fond colours. For surely in mine opinion the wearing of such gorgeous and painted garments, with other such plumes of peacocks pride, may well be called a vain and foolish folly, but no such stately pride as the other: for it doth represent to the beholder a mere weakness of the wearers mind, and no deep conceited fellow, but such a one as had rather stand in the middle of his goods presently, than by any deep reach or cunning practice to purchase himself authority or dignity. Which mind no doubt is altogether hurtless to other, though private reproach to his person. There is also a kind of pride in divers proudly to vaunt themselves, boasting of their ancient pedigree, noble parentage, standing on their generosity, as though the noble acts of their ancestors were sufficient to colour, shadow and hide their vain and lewd life by their vaunting vanity, not considering that the good qualities, courteous behaviours, and gentle demeanours of a man, maketh him to become a Gentleman: but rather will challenge their gentility from their ancient Parents, if any of them had either name or fame by any good virtue or act, although divers of the same race and stock, were both wicked, vain and lewd. This also in my judgement is in man's nature a proud vanity and ridiculous error. The wise Aristole hearing a certain man boast & vaunt that he came and descended from a noble and famous City, and therefore arrogantly challenged a kind of dutifulness to be given him by reason of the noble fame thereof, 
Aristotle.  said; brag not my friend of that, but first see thou be worthy to be of so noble a City, and not digress from and shame so ancient a stock. Truly they deserve dispraise & extreme laughter, which brag and boast of their progenitors, and think themselves trim men because their forefathers were famous. Who was the sire of noble Marius? assuredly no great state: his valiantness and puissance is recorded in sundry histories, but yet who begat him remaineth doubtful and unknown. The same we affirm of Cato, Servilius, Hostilius, Romulus, all notable & puissant peers in the Roman Empire: neither indeed maketh it any matter from whence they spring or descend, if their virtue be of sufficient force to defend their parentage. Was not king Darius son of the mean man Histaspis, first quiverbearer to Cyrus, and yet became noble and honourable? The last Darius whom Alexander vanquished, was borne of the body of a bondwoman, notwithstanding in the end became a mighty Prince. Archelaus the Macedonian king came of the loins of Smicha, a poor maidservant, Menelaus the Grandfather of Philip was numbered among bastards, and Amintas was but a servingman, who was grandfather to Alexander the great, and waited upon Aeropa. Eumenes had but a poor fellow to his father. Antigonus the son of Philip first served for salary. The great Captain Themistocles was the son of a very simple and poor woman named Abrotone. Photion surnamed justus, was at the first but a spoonemaker, or ladlemaker. Also the nobleman Epaminondas had but a poor and simple man to his father. Demetrius, Phalareus, Hiperbolus, Cleophon, and Demadus descended but of poor parentage, and became in the end right noble and famous. The learned Lycurgus seeing some of the haughty Lacedæmonians daily sticking and standing on their ancient parentage and generosity, thereby digressing from good manners; made a law, wherein was granted that such as continued their children in good exercises, which was no less profitable to the common estate, then necessary to their private persons, should be called Gentleman, and have this prerogative before others to have free passage, without interturbance, to offices of dignity in the Lacedaemonian commonwealth. On a time the wise Demosthenes had this cast in his dish, that although he was now a man of great fame, and had in estimation and reverence, yet notwithstanding, his father was but a base and obscure fellow, and glad to get his living by playing the master of fence, as indeed he was as Valerius reporteth. Whereunto Demosthenes was not ashamed thus to reply, saying; Qui parentibus obscuris nati, ad decus praeclarnm virrute propria ascenderunt, non inferiorem laudem merentur, quàm qui nobilitate maiorum superbise iactant. Maior enim est gloria virtutibus proprijs niti, quàm alienis intumescere. They which are borne but of mean and base Parents, and rise to high honour by their own proper virtues, deserve or merit no less praise, when they which brag and boast of their right noble Progenitors. Therefore far better is that baunt to stick and cleave fast to their own proper virtues, than overmuch to swell with the pride of another man's glory. But Juvenalis reporteth of this man's father otherwise, saying; 
Juvenal.  Plebeius ab officina gladiorum fuit. He was free of the Cutlers, and lived by that trade. Which also was far from the credit and calling of his son Demosthenes.  Fa. 
It is very true indeed, such vaunting vanity remaineth in many: but it is very hard to find such a one as is risen to great honour and dignity in his Country, being descended from mean and base parentage, to vaunt and brag in causes of controversy, of his poor Progenitors: much less ought he who is descended and sprung from the stock of generosity, being poor or in base estate, over proudly to vaunt thereof, for that either his fall was by the vicious vice of his predecessors, whereof he ought rather to blush than brag. Or else it proceedeth of his own lascivious or licentious vanity, whereof he ought greatly to be ashamed. Well let this suffice, that virtue maketh a Gentleman, and the want thereof causeth the stock and graff to whither and fall down. And whereas we have already sufficiently touched the misdemeanours and bad behaviours of noble Peers and high estates, and what they gain by such disordered government: now again we will show and make manifest how much good government is commended, what praise it deserveth, and what perpetual memory it registereth to the eye of immortal fame: and also how far clemency, courtesy, humility, and mercy in Princes and high estates availeth and is of force, where neither cruelty, tyranny, or other rigorous dealing can prevail. First concerning modesty and the fruits thereof, Demetrius the son of Philip king of Macedon, being sent by his father to Rome to answer the grievous complaint of the Grecians, 
Plu. in vita Demetrij.  who made a great & heinous complaint against him to the Romans, for certain abuses which he had offered them in Greece, when this Demetrius was in the Senate of Rome hearing his father grievously complained on, would forthwith have executed the office, for which cause he came, wherefore he stood up and began to answer to the accusations which they so urgently objected against his father. But the Ambassadors of Greece so vehemently interrupted and interturbed his speech with unpleasant babbling and railing, insomuch that the young Gentleman could not be heard by reason of their great importunacy: for which cause, the young Demetrius being greatly abashed, with blushing cheeks in most modest manner sat him down (being greatly ashamed at their outrageous railing) pleaded his cause with silence, because he would not be troublesome to the grave Senators, he gave the Ambassadors his adversaries leave to scold and rail their fill. Which when the grave Bench of the Senators perceived, they also commanded the antragious Grecians to silence, and dismissed them the Senate, suffering them to return home to Grece without reformation of their wrongs, pardoning the offence of the young man's Father, sending letters into Macedon to this effect; Philip King of Macedon, we the Senators of Rome pardon thine offence, remit the trespasses of thee done against the Cities of Grece: not for thy sake Philip, but for the modest behaviour of Demetrius thy Son showed here in the Senate of Rome before us, to the great wealth and good of thy Country, and to his perpetual remembrance. What praise and commendation also did young P. Cornelius Scipio, (otherwise called Scipio Africanus) purchase by his singular clemency, notable courtesy, and bountiful liberality: for at such time as he had taken the City of new Carthage in Spain, with a number of prisoners & captives, and also great quantity of riches and jewels: there at that time also was taken among the rest, a virgin of rare & singular beauty: who with divers other were brought before Scipio, after whom the people wonderfully thronged and thrusted, delighting to see her for the rareness of her beauty. But the noble Scipio inquiring of her, of what Country she was, and of what kindred she was descended, and perceiving by her that she was betrothed or made sure to a young Prince of the Celtiberians, 
Polib. li. 10  whose name was Luceius. Whereupon (when he had committed the other Matrons and Maids to right worthy & honest persons, to the intent their chastity might be both honestly and carefully preserved) he presently sent for the said young man, and also for her parents. At whose coming, knowing that the young Prince was sore enamoured of her, he thus said to him, Sir, I being a young man, have sent for you that are also a young man, to come to me: the cause is, for that when this young maid being fianced or insured to you, was brought to me by my soldiers, I heard say that you entirely loved her, as her beauty witnesseth you had good cause so to do. If I might lawfully enjoy her pleasant love, & were not otherwise occupied in my mind about the affairs of the Common wealth, I could perchance bear her my love, and desire to enjoy the same. But now I will bear favour to your love, that of right aught to have her. She hath been here with me as well and honourably kept, and her virginity as carefully preserved, as though she had dwelled still with her own parents, To this intent I might make of her a present to you most acceptable, and also for the preservation of mine honour. And for this my gift, I require of you but only this one reward, that is, that you from henceforth become a loving, true, and faithful friend to the Romans, and if you esteem me to be a good and honourable man, as my father and uncle before me were reputed to be, then think that there are in the noble City of Rome, many like unto us, and trust me never, if any people this day can be found on the earth, that you will be more glad to have the love and friendship of, or that you would be more sorry to have the displeasure of. The young man after great thanks given to him, prayed the Gods to reward him for all his goodness, where his power sufficed not. Then were the parents of the maid called forth, who had brought with them a great sum of gold for the ransom of their child. But when they perceived that the noble Scipio had given her freely to her husband, than they desired him to take and accept a part thereof, as of their gift, for the better declaration of their good hearts towards him, affirming that his receiving thereof should be as joyful unto them, as the restitution of their daughter undefiled. Then Scipio being overcome with their long and vehement intercession, caused the said sum to be laid on the ground before his feet, and calling Lucius again to him, he said; Beside the dowry that you shall receive of your Father in law for the marriage of his daughter, ye also shall take this gift at my hand. With which his great gift, and also much honour done to him beside, he returned home to his house & country, declaring to every man the honour & magnificence of noble Scipio, saying; There was a young man come most like a God, who both with his power in war, and also with his gentleness and liberality in peace, had overcome all the country. Not long after, this young Gentleman leaving his house and family in good order, returned to Scipio, bringing with him 1400. good horsemen to the aid and secure of the Romans. Thus first Scipio began with mercy, lenity, and gentle courtesy, which was the cause that he goat in the end to the Romans such notable and mighty victories. The great Pompey never gate the like renown in all his conquest of Spain and Africa, nor in the subduing of the valiant Sertorius, neither in the victories of Armenia, Cappadocia, Arabia, Iberia, Mesopotamia, with divers other Provinces and Kingdoms, as he did by his great courtesy. For when in his wars against Mithridates, he had taken certain noble matrons, and beutifulll virgins, he carried a vigilant eye over them, neither abusing any of them himself, nor suffering his captains or soldiers to dishonour or dishonest them in any case, calling them all together before him, comforting them with sweet words in the best manner he could, saying; That none under pain of death should offer them villainy, granting forth his safeconduct to them, that they might be conveyed to their husbands, parents and friends with honour undefiled, richly rewarding them with jewels which he had taken in his wars, protesting also unto them, that he for his part, was most heartily sorry that it was his hap so to fright and terrify such hurtless creatures, requesting them to take it in good part, for such was the chance and casualty of war: for which gentle behaviours, (had it not been for certain other lewd vices which are before mentioned) he had attained to peerless praise.  
Alexander the great king of Macedon, although he frequented a number of most notable and bad vices, yet were it no reason to bury in oblivion and forgetfulness, covering, as it were in the grave of silence, the gentle courtesy and manly piety which he showed in most ample manner to the distressed household and family of king Darius. For even at such time as the mighty Wars began between these two Princes, In the second Battle and conflict, Alexander had a great victory against Darius and the Persians, taking the tents with all the bag & baggage appertaining to the King and the Persians, and also for a pray (amongst other booties) he took prisoners the mother, wife, sister, and the two daughters of King Darius, his enemy: whom when Alexander came to comfort, being in great sorrow and distress: they beholding him coming with an armed troop, pitifully schritched and lamentably cried out, as if they than should presently have been slain: falling down prostrate at the feet of Alexander, beseeching him that they might before they died, bury the dead body of their Lord Darius, whom they supposed to be slain in that bloody fight: and that now, whereas he was a man, and had at this time gotten a most noble and manly victory against Darius their Lord and King; so to behave himself towards those poor distressed creatures, who were altogether unguilty of that pitiful slaughter, being as it were present in the Army with their friend, for their countries cause, and in defence of their liberty, in which also their Lord & King Darius was now slain: therefore now that he would vouchsafe to bestow the body of their slain friend on them, that they might do to him in their life the rights of burial; and then, said they, O Alexander, our lives be at thy commandment. Alexander being greatly moved with pity, seeing their bitter tears, and considering the hard hap and bad destiny of so noble Dames, bewailed their distressed case with weeping, further comforting them saying, that Darius their Lord and King was alive, and at liberty still with his own force and power; and although he was overcome in that fight, yet was he ready to give new battle again (as in deed he did) causing them to banish fear from them, for that no injury or wrong should happen to them, giving also commandment that they should be provided for and used, as to their high estate and dignity appertained, giving good words and comfort unto the two young Daughters of Darius, wishing them assuredly to think, and firmly to persuade themselves, that he would have as great care to bestow them in marriage (if King Darius their father did die and perish in these wars) as he living with a fatherly care would provide for them, and that with no base or obscure mates. Which thing when Darius was truly certified of, and of the courteous entertainment of his mother, wife and sister, being all prisoners and captives, at the hands of Alexander his enemy, although he then was able to give battle to the strongest king of the earth (for he again had gathered a most mighty and huge army) was already overcome and conquered with the gentle courtesies of his enemy, altogether unwilling to fight against so friendly a foe, wherefore he sent his letters to Alexander, requiring him that he might redeem his captives, promising a mighty sum & mass of money for their ransom. Notwithstanding Alexander would receive no money, but required his whole kingdom for their redemption. Darius not willing to fight with so friendly an enemy, sent his letters to Alexander the second time, offering one of his daughters in marriage, with part of his kingdom to him, if it might please him to accept thereof. But the unsatiable Alexander could not be content with part, unless he might have all the whole. And as for the offer of his daughters, he returned this answer, saying; He had them already, and could do with them his pleasure. Now was Darius forced to go against his friendly foe the third time, hoping to get his prisoners, and yet notwithstanding loving and honouring the very name of Alexander, for the great courtesy and lenity he had showed to his family. The army and power of Darius was at this time four hundred thousand footmen, and an hundred thousand horsemen, thus marching toward his enemy Alexander, it was told him in his journey that his wife was dead, whose death Alexander lamented with tears, and caused a noble funeral to be appointed, doing to her the greatest honour he could devise, comforting the rest, requesting them not so heavily to take the death of their friend, whose life by no means he could save or preserve. Now was Darius overcome (when his power was most strongest) with the benefits and friendliness of his foe, so honouring in his heart his adversary, that for love he bore him, he could not arrange his battle against him, rejoicing greatly in himself, and also saying to his friends, If I am overcome in this war, yet notwithstanding I have great cause to rejoice that I shall be conquered by so noble a minded prince. Wherefore again he sent his letters to Alexander, offering him the greater part of his kingdom, to the river of Euphrates, with his other daughter: and for the other captives he offered three hundred thousand talents. But Alexander returned this answer, refusing the composition, saying; It was need lessethankes of his enemy, for he always had used to revenge himself on armed men, and on his fight foe, and not upon hurtless women. Thus by the haughty courage of Alexander, Darius, was forced and drawn into the field unwillingly to fight against his enemy, whom he esteemed as a friendly foe, notwithstanding there was fought betwixt them a fierce and cruel battle, the Persians in the end being overthrown with great slaughter, for that Darius their Captain could not encourage or stir them up to fight against his friend. In which conflict certain of the friends and alliance of Darius, seeing the battle utterly lost, and that Alexander was like presently to be Lord of the field, sought to betray their king into the hands of Alexander, thereby to pick a thank, or as they say, to curry favour. In accomplishing of which thing Darius was sore wounded by his allies, notwithstanding he escaped & prevented their purpose. But Alexander not hearing of Darius, sent out seven thousand horsemen to prosecute after him, whom when they could not find, they requested leave to rest themselves and their over wearied horses: than one of the soldiers going to water his horse at a certain river thereby, by chance found out Darius lying in a coach or chariot, being mortally wounded with many grievous hurts, ready to yield up his life, & coming near to the coach, he did plainly perceive that it was Darius, and Darius did well know that he was one of the crew or band of Alexander, wherefore he called him to his coach, saying; My good friend, I greatly rejoice that it is my good fortune before I die, to have so fit a messenger as yourself, to carry these my last words, not to my enemy, but to my good friend Alexander, at whose hands I have found great favour: say thou my friend, that I confess I die greatly indebted unto him, being altogether unable to requite the very lest of his courtesies showed to my mother, wife and children, and that I have of him a more happier enemy, than my kinsmen are friendly. For my mother, wife, and children have found both favour and life at the hand of mine enemy: and I myself am deprived of life by my kinsmen and allies, to whom I gave both life and land. Wherefore I wish as great happiness to fall on him, as he being victor can wish or desire: and that I even now dying, do wholly commit and betake both myself, my lands and goods, into the hands of so noble a minded prince, praying both to the high Gods, and also to the infernal powers, that he may be victor against whomsoever he wageth war: and that all blessings may happen to him according to his own hearts desire. And for the further acknowledging of my unfeigned love, and well wishing desire towards Alexander my approved friend, take here of me this my right hand (which thou seest me cut of willingly being alive) and carry it to thy Lord and master my good friend, as a sure seal and firm pledge of my unfeigned good will and hearty well wishing towards him. Thus died Darius, when he could no otherwise gratify and recompense his friendly foe, for the great favours and courtesies showed to his family, than by the acknowledging of his clemency and and gentleness. This friendly favour of Alexander was soon spread thorough the world, and more often repeated to his high praise and commendation, than the great and famous victory which he had against the Persians, which was a most wonderful conquest, and remaineth at this day the very chief and most principal praise and merit to Alexander.  
Was there not likewise singular courtesy, and wonderful gentleness in King Darius, which Alexander conquered. For at such time as certain of his noble men sought to entangle and take him by treason, which were of no small account amongst the Persians, Darius the King having intelligence of their wicked practice, thus considered with himself, and broke it unto his secret friend, saying; Here are divers noble men which traitorously have conspired my death: if now I should put them all to the sword, there is no doubt but that I should stir up against me many of their friends and allies, and so be forced to make great effusion of blood, which truly is contrary and repugnant to my nature. The cause surely to me is unknown, why they should thus wickedly work my hurt. It may be they would be better content with another king to reign over them, than with me now their present prince: yet truly I rather choose to have it registered of their disloyalty toward their Prince, by my death, than to purchase to myself the name of a cruel tyrant, by their bloody slaughters. With these considerations he concealed the matter, making a show as though he nothing mistrusted any such thing: on a time riding forth a hunting, these noblemen which had conspired against him, flocked together, hoping now to get some convenient time and place for their purpose, riding with the king to the forest, making a show of great joy and gladness, to the end the king should suspect no evil: but he full well knew their intent though he dissembled the matter. Thus following their game they trooped together, hoping that the king would come that way which they had laid and stauled for him, which indeed he did. The King seeing their intent, and spying their order, singled himself from the rest of his company, going directly to the traitors, who stood in ambush ready to fulfil and accomplish that for which cause they came. The king boldly rushed into the midst of them, saying; Now ye traitors, dispatch and commit that which ye are determined to do, I have long time known your intent, & for because I would not be counted a bloody prince I have spared you all, rather choosing that your hands should be unbrued in the blood of your guiltless Prince, to your everlasting infamy and dishonour, than my sword should be stained with the slaughter of so many Subjects, wishing rather here to die and free your troubled minds, than to live and remain such an eyesore to so many noble estates, though traitors to their Prince. Therefore, said he, Quid igitur non exequimini id cuius gratia venistis? Why do ye not dispatch your purpose in respect of the accomplishment whereof you be resorted hither? Then they all looked on each other in the face, being troubled in their minds, greatly repenting their enterprise, that ever they went about to work such villainy to so noble a minded Prince, who knew their practice before, and yet spared to punish them, rather choosing himself to die, than to use tyranny on his subjects (which indeed had been no cruelty but upright justice) wherefore they all with one accord threw down their spears, and lighted from their saddles, confessing their trespass, humbly submitting themselves on their knees, craving mercy at the hands of Darius, proffering their voluntary service to do whatsoever he henceforth gave them in commandment.  
Thus with the great mercy and clemency of Darius without bloodshed, the unbridled stomachs of his nobles were pacified and made quiet, which by a bloody hand he could never have brought to pass. And from that time forth they were mindful of so gracious a benefit, remaining ever after most faithful, obedient, and full of duty to Darius their mild and gentle Prince. In like manner Titus a Roman Emperor, son to Vespasianus, 
Aurel. li. 7.  excelled in humility, clemency and courtesy: for at such time as two of his chiefest Peers had consented & conspired to the murdering of their master the king. Titus having knowledge thereof, first calling them into a privy chamber, telling them home of their wicked intent, wishing them (by mild and gentle means) to become better Subjects to their hurtless Prince, who, so far as he knew, had not deserved at their hands the very thought of such a wicked invention. And afterward taking them both with him to a common game or play, setting himself between them both, willing them to sit near his person; and so soon as the sword-players came out with their glittering swords, Titus called for one of them, which was presently delivered to him: then he forthwith gave it to the one, and after to the other, under colour of feeling how sharp it was, beholding them with a smiling countenance, saying; Videtisne potestates fato dari, frustràque tentari facinus potiundi spe, vel admittendi metu? See ye not saith he, that authority and power is given by destiny, therefore it is vain to try by wicked practice to possess the place, and as vain it is to fear the losing thereof? Meaning thereby, that although they had the sword in their hands, yet could they not displace him whom God had settled. Thus courteously did Titus entreat his Nobles, saying that he had greater pleasure, and more delight to correct offenders with lenity, than to chastise them with cruelty, which caused him to reign more quietly in his life, and also at his death to be bewailed thorough the whole earth, calling him the darling and delight of mankind. He was wont to say the night, that the day before he had not given well to the poor, or been liberal amongst his friends; Amici, perdidimus diem. Friends, we have lost a day. Gelon king of Syracuse behaved himself wonderful mildly, 
Eli. li. 6.  gently, and peaceably in his kingdom, yet notwithstanding he was of some termed a tyrant. But this is most certain, that when divers of his commonwealth sought ways to shorten his life by cruel murder, waiting for fit occasion to execute and accomplish their vile pretended villainy. Whereof when Gelon was informed and certified, he called a court, and summoned an assembly of Syracusians, which being done, in the presence and countenance of them all, he went up, into an haughty and high place, in manner of a pulpit, having on his body harness, and in his hands weapons bright and glistering. In which sort and order he stood before them, making a declaration of his faithful care which he always had over the weal public, tendering the welfare of them all even as his own life. Having thus done he unarmed himself, laying down both armour and weapon at his feet, and uttered these words to the congregation which was there assembled, saying; En amictus tunicula, nudus armorum asto, dedo me vobis, ut pro voluntate, libitóque mecum agatis. Behold, I stand before you naked, unarmed, in a thin waistcoat, I yield my life into your hands, my body is at your commandment, deal with me according to your pleasure. For, saith he, I detest the place if you despise my person, neither do I wish any longer to live in my calling than you shall well like of my government. When Gelon had thus yielded himself to his subjects, the whole assembly of the Syracusians were much amazed, and thereupon were so affectioned in mind, that needs they would (there was no way to the contrary) deliver those traitorous varlets, and rebellious villains to the king's power, to punish them according to the proportion of their offence, and gave him their suffrages & universal consents to continue over them his dominion & government: yet not withstanding would not Gelon correct those offenders, but freely forgave them their trespasses, counseling them ever after to become better subjects, and to wish to him in their hearts no otherwise than he would deserve at their hands. Which great mercy and favour of Gelon the king, made the Syracusians to honour and dutifully obey him so long as he lived among them, and after his death to have him in perpetual remembrance for his singular courtesy, and notable clemency. They erected and planted a standing image wearing a single petticoat, representing to the beholder that this king did reign and rule by gentle and courteous means, more safer, and far stronger than he that should reign like a tyrant, with harness and armour of proof.  Scho. 
Truly Sir, it is now in these our days most manifest how mightily the lenity and gentleness of Princes is of force, and availeth: and with what willing hearts their subjects will venture both life, land and limb in the service and defence of their so mild and gentle a Prince: yea if it were possible that one body should venture the loss of life ten times, or presently to run to ten deaths for the preservation ●o safety of such a noble and merciful Prince, no doubt they could make no curiosity in the cause, nor scrupulosity on the matter, but with willing and fierce minds boldly venture themselves. Contrariwise, we both daily see and read, that cruel tyrants by their tyranny cannot compel their Subjects to bear or carry towards them a dutiful mind, and loving heart, neither willingly to venture themselves in their causes, but drawn, as it were by the ears to their defence, or else they should fight in their own quarrels: the people also delight & rejoice to hear of the ruin and destruction of such tyrannical Princes, yea and that which is worse, do often conspire and practise unnaturally the death and destruction of such tyrants. We read of the cruel tyrant Clearchus, King of the Heraclians, that when by no persuasions he could be restrained from his accustomed tyranny, 
Laer. li. 6.  two of the most noblest young Gentlemen of the City conspired his death, venturing their own lives to deliver and set free their Commonwealth from such a tyrannous enemy, never resting until they had freed their Countrymen from his cruel tyranny. For Clearchus unmercifully tormenting his guiltless subjects with most cruel torture, sharp punishment, and extreme banishment, taking pleasure in the untolerable pains of his distressed people, finding out most sharp and cruel inventions to plague and torment his miserable Subjects withal. At the last these two young Gentlemen, Chion and Leonides, being both brought up under the tutorship and government of the wise and learned Philosopher Plato, tendering their countries liberty, and detesting the cruel tyranny of the wicked Tyrant, feigned themselves to be at variance and earnest controversy in the King's presence, insomuch that they drew their Daggers one at the other in the kings sight, & so betwixt them both they stabbed the Tyrant to death, and delivered their Common wealth from such a bloody minded butcher.  
It is also reported, that after Pisistratus was dead, who usurped the crown, and reigned by force and cruelty, that then his son Diocles, excelling his Father in all kind of tyranny, was soon after him slain for his wickedness; and especially for that he had dishonourably ravished and with violence entreated a young Maid, whose brother in revengement thereof slew the King. 
Plu devita Hipp.  Then reigned his Brother Hippias, who also was a most wicked and bloody Tyrant: this Hippias caused the young man that had slain his brother to be racked, to confess who were the counsellors of him to that deed: who named all the Tyrant's friends. Whom, so soon as they were apprehended, were presently put to death as chief aiders in the conspiracy, whereof they were altogether ignorant and unguilty, but the youngman appeached them for maintaining the tyrant in his wickedness. Thus the tyrant's friends being slain, the young man was again demanded if he knew any other that was consenting to the death and murder of his Brother? The young man answered; No truly Hippias, there is none living that I would have dead, but thou thyself, O thou Tyrant. Saying further, That he greatly rejoiced, that he had caused one Tyrant to execute tyranny on another, whereby he had freed his Country from a great number of them: wishing and earnestly exhorting his Country men to have as great a care in wishing well to their Country (by rooting out of all such Tyrants, which deed would sort the common good of their Countrymen) as they had or should have of their own private Estates.  
Did Nero purchase to himself the favour and friendly hearts of his Country men by such monstrous cruelty as he commonly used? No truly, but their disdainful hate was thereby obtained. He had such care over his Country, and so tendered the welfare of his Countrymen, that to satisfy and please his tyrannous mind, on a time he would needs set the stately City of Rome on fire, to see how rightly it would resemble the burning and overthrow of Troy, when the Greeks' had taken it: by which cruel deed, he was the spoil of many a thousand Roman: for the fire continued burning in the City the space of five days, wonderfully consuming the goods and treasure of the Citizens, to the great impoverishing of the whole Common wealth. For which impious cruelties (when he had committed other outrageous tyrannies, which before are specified) he was by the common consent of his subjects condemned to be beaten to death with whips and rods: but the execution was not done accordingly, 
Aureli. li. 7.  for the prevented their sharp sentence with the murder of himself.  
Diomedes the bloody Thracian Tyrant, scaped not unrevenged for his monstrous and abominable murders, in giving to his horses the bodies of living men to be devoured of those ravenous jades, 
Plu. de vita Diomed.  which he kept for the same purpose; executing daily his accustomed tyranny upon the poor distressed Thracians his Countrymen, delighting to imbrue himself in the blood of his subjects: but in the end, the noble Hercules, disdaining to suffer so vile a wretch a live, made war against him, and took the cruel Tyrant Diomedes prisoner, giving him to his own horses, who devoured him as their wont prey. For being before by accustomed manner made fierce and fell in their jadish cruelty, they were now the more apt and ready to tear in pieces, and pluck lim-meale the body of the bloody Tyrant.  
Also the most odious and detestable Tyrant Phalaris in semblable manner received like reward: for when he had long time studied and invented for strange and cruel torments to plague and pain his poor subjects withal: at last Perillus a notable and expert workman came to Phalaris (hoping to receive such reward as the Tyrant's proclamation before had promised) and said; 
Plu. de vita Phale.  Sir King, I have invented and made a most strange, rare and cruel punishment, to torment whom it shall please you, after a most wonderful and extreme order. The engine was like a Bull made and shaped of brass in every respect, having in the side thereof a door right artificially contrived, to put in naked men, which door being closed up fast again with the man in the middle, fire should be put under the belly of the brazen Bull, and so soon as the Engine began thoroughly to heat, it would so scorch and burn the living man within, that he should not choose but mainly and extremely cry out, whose voice by coming through certain hollow holes in the bulls throat, (made for that purpose) should seem like to the cruel roaring of a mad Bull, or some other bedlam Beast, which was sharply gored or pricked. Phalaris beholding this strange device, greatly rejoicing at the rareness thereof, thought it long until he might see the effect thereof put in execution. Wherefore calling to him the running work man who had taken great pains in framing and contriving that strange and rare torment, saying, Friend Perillus, I most heartily thank thee for this device, and for because I would sane be satisfied, and see some experience proved in this thy hollow device, I command that thou prove the first experience of thine own handy craft. Which without stay was forced to be done, to the great terrifying of all the beholders. Thus was Perillus beaten with his own rod; for that which he made for gain to crucify land torment others, he first of all tasted himself. Yet notwithstanding Phalaris was not to be commended herein, for that he had no respect to the cause, but according to his accustomed manner of cruelty, used the Engine afterwards to the punishment of his subjects, therewithal to delight and satisfy his tyrannous and bloody mind: until his Country men detesting such outrageous cruelty, could not suffer his tyranny any longer, but rose up against him, and took the bloody Tyrant, putting him into the brazen Bull to make him taste the torment of his own cruelty. Thus also died the notable Tyrant Phalaris, 
Mors Phalaris.  who always took pleasure in tormenting and persecuting his poor Subjects, wishing rather to be feared than loved, coveting to rule and govern his Weal public by cruel and tyrannous means: for which his unsatiate and bloodthirsty intemperancy, he felt the desert of his own folly.  
Therefore Sir, I right well perceive, that the Prince ruleth with more safety (as you said before) in a thin and single waistcoat, than in strong armour, much more availing by gentle and courteous means over their loving Subjects, than with a bloody and tyrannous hand, which oftentimes turneth them to hate, not to love; preferrring him to death, not to life. And whereas you have showed examples, what great honour and renown falleth to the share of such Princes, which have showed both merciful pity, gentle courtesy, and manly clemency on poor distressed creatures in time of victory: and also what love they gate even of their enemies, for the chaste preserving of Matrons and Uirgines, for their gentle courtesy in entertaining them, and for their liberal hearts in voluntarily freing and dismissing them being such hurtless captives: noting contrariwise the deserved ruin of such, as have unjustly tyrannised over their innocence, for of such Tyrant's falls, all Histories are full.  
It is certainly reported, 
Aurelius de vita & moribus imperatorum.  that Dionysius junior in his victories used great cruelty by abusing of Matrons, ravishing young Uirgines and deflowering of Maidens, for when on a time he came to the Locreans, he took up, possessed, occupied, used, or rather abused the greatest, largest, & fairest houses that were in all the City, strewing them with damask roses, lavender, savoury, and such like odoriferous flowers, & sweet smelling herbs, sending for the young Damsels of the Locreans, to come to him; with whom he had fleshly pleasure and delight, past all shame, honesty, or regard of chastity. Which filthiness & most loathsome offence abounding in him escaped not unpunished: for when his kingdom was rend and torn from him by Dion, the Locreans rewarded like with like, dealing carnally with the Wife and Daughters of Dionysius, enforcing upon them (for his offence) most abominable fornication without any intermission or ceasing, and such specially as were of the lineage consanguinity and kindred of those young maids and virgins whom Dionysius deflowered, were most eager and fierce to be so revenged. After they had satisfied and staunched the lust of their flesh with the bodies of Dionysius his wife and daughters, they took needles and thrust them into their fingers and toes, under the naples, in such lamentable order murdering them, and stamped their bones in mortars, from the which they had lanced and cut collops of flesh, offering the gobbets to be eaten: whereof who so refused to taste, such they abused most villainously, and handled worse than hellhounds. The remnant of slaughtered and dismembered carcases was cast into the sea, there to be consumed with whirling waves, or to be devoured by monstrous fishes; and as for Dionysius himself, after he had endured manifold mischances, and sustained sundry distresses of life and estate, at Corinth, being pinched with extreme need, he became a stark beggar, and went from place to place playing on a Timbrel and Flute, and singing Ballads in the company of such as hired him, and gave him for his labour: going also into Barber's shops to jest, and to make the people merry and pleasant when they came thither to be knotted & shaven. This was the end of Dionysius, and after this sort he finished the course of his life, in no less beggary than infamy, who no doubt was but plagued according to his desert.  Fame. 
Now do I right well perceive that our conference doth much profit you, and that you have well noted and marked the tenor of my purpose, in going about to decipher the difference betwixt virtue and vice, which you sufficiently discern, and are able to give examples to the contrary: therefore I nothing repent me of my pain and labour herein, but will with willing mind proceed to pleasure you in what I may: and whereas now in this my last speech I showed unto you what honour and renown was purchased and obtained thorough mercy and clemency, and also what noble fame and eternal praise remaineth to those, who do show both manly pity, gentle courtesy, and merciful favour to the conquered, & to those who are under their power to dispose at their pleasure. Contrariwise, you have declared what inconvenience doth often fall to those who seek to rule and reign thorough tyranny, and by bloody means, and also what misery happeneth oft to those who have had neither regard of their own honesty, the preservation of chastity, nor any pitiful consideration of them in adversity. Well now again I will proceed, beginning where last you interrupted me, which was, where Princes tendered, & carefully loved their subjects, and welfare of their commonwealth, there also what a dutiful care and obedient mind the subjects ought to have for the preservation of their so good a Prince, & happy weal public, for that commonwealth which is governed by a wise and prudent Prince, cannot choose but be called and termed right happy and fortunate.  
The wise and learned Philosopher Plato was wont to say Tum demùm beatum terrarum orbem futurum, 
Dictum Ciceronis.  cum aut sapientes regnare, aut reges sapere caepissent. Yet at length a happy & blessed time shall fall on the earth, when either wisemen begin to reign, or else Kings begin to wax wise. For there, saith he, the Common wealth is on all parts blessed. Then having such a wise Prince and settled Commonwealth, the Subjects ought to have a special and dutiful care in maintaining, defending, upholding, and preserving both Prince and Country to the uttermost of their power, yea if it were with the loss of their lives, in the just quarrel and good cause of their Prince and Country. 
Valer. li; & Livius in prelatione belloium punicorum.  Cicero saith, Non nobis solùm nati sumus, sed etiam pro patria. We are not only borne, saith he, to pleasure ourselves, but also to the profit and commodity of our country. For at such time as Attilius Regulus a noble Consul of Rome, having oftentimes vanquished the Carthaginians, was at the last of them taken prisoner by a certain subtle sleight, yet notwithstanding, because the Romans had also taken certain prisoners of the Carthaginians, and those most noble and valiant Captains and Soldiers, wherefore Regulus was sent home to Rome, to make exchange for the other prisoners. But when this ancient Father was come to Rome, he called a Convocation of the Senators, and there in the Senate before them all, he thus began, Most learned & grave fathers, whom I right well know have always wished well, and tendered the welfare & common good of our country, knowing also, that at this time you are not ignorant of my late chance and mishap, which now being past remedy is not to be sorrowed, and also that you have here in the city certain prisoners of the Carthaginians, being both expert, active, and valiant captains, whom they crave to have again by way of exchange, and so may you have me again here at liberty in Rome: notwithstanding, first for my ancient authority in this our commonwealth, then for my approved good will towards my country, and last, in respect of my grave and aged years, and here by the virtue and dignity of my place in the Senate house, I am to determine causes, confer about the good of our weal public; and to have as great a care for the preservation both of our City and Country, in as ample manner as the rest of you my fellow Senators: therefore, most honourable Fathers, being thus strongly warred upon by so mighty a people, who seek daily to subvert our state, throw down our city, and spoil our commonwealth: the cause is therefore wisely to be considered on. First for mine own part, as you all do know, I am old, decrepit, and of little force of body, not like long to continue. Again, the Captains whom you hold of the Carthaginians, are both lusty, valiant, and courageous gentlemen, likely to perform and do great service against you, to the great hurt of the Commonwealth, Therefore, Father's conscript, by the virtue of may aforesaid authorities, I will never consent to the redelivering or redeeming of such perilous enemies, but will with a willing heart return to the Carthaginians from whence I came, to save both the honour of my country, and the credit of my name, from perpetual infamy, lest that we should be hereafter by the Carthaginians our enemies, accounted, and reproachfully termed the confringers of martial rights. Thus the grave Senators by no means could persuade the good old man to make such exchange as the Carthaginians offered, but would needs return for his countries sake, although he knew he went to present death and cruel torment Thus went Attilus Regulus to the enemy, who after they had bound him, cut of his eye lids, and set him in a hollow tree upright, filled full of sharp and pricking nails, there continuing in most horrible pain until he died. Thus did he carry a faithful heart and noble courage in his countries cause, willing to lose his life for the profit and welfare of his weal public. In like sort, Gobrias a Persian, holding in his arms by force in a dark chamber him who was a traitor to his country; insomuch that when one of his fellows came to his aid to help to slay the traitor, 
Plu. devita Codri.  he cried out to his friend, saying; Stay not thy blow, but thrust him thorough, although thereby thou dost kill me also, so that he escape not from us, to the further hurt of our Country, therefore presently run thy sword thorough him, and so shall our Commonwealth be freed from a wicked traitor. Thus Gobrias esteemed not his life in delivering his country from an enemy. Codrus king of Athens, for the safeguard of his public weal, went to present death willingly and with a valiant courage. For at such time as there was wars betwixt him and the Dorians, the Dorians went to the oracle of Apollo at Delphos, to know who should be victors in that war begun: to whom this answer was made, That they should be coquerors if they killed not the king of Athens. Then was proclamation made in all the Dorian camp, to spare and preserve alive the Athenian king. But Codrus hearing of the answer of Apollo, and being advertised of their proclamation, did forthwith change his garments in most deformed manner, with a wallet full of bread on his shoulders, and went privily to the camp of the Dorians, and wounded a certain odd fellow among their Tents, with a sharp hook or sickle which he had prepared for the nonce. In revenge whereof the wounded fellow slew Codrus the king: but after when the body was known, & the order of his death, the Dorians departed without battle, remembering the divine answer of the Oracle, whereby the Athenian king freed his country from peril, 
Diogenes. Laer. li. 4  which otherwise had been in great danger. It is also reported that Lycurgus, after he had made divers good laws (to be observed & kept of his countrymen) feigned that they were made by the consent of the Oracle at Delphos. And when he perceived that these laws & statutes were to the great benefit of his country, feigned that he would go to Delphos for further counsel. And to the intent they should keep those laws until he returned from thence, firm and sure, he made the whole body of the commonwealth to swear, & bind themselves by oath, to keep unviolated and unbroken those laws which then he had set down, until such time that he returned again from Delphos, but because he would have those statutes remain and be of force for ever in his Country, he went the next way to crete, and not to Delphos, where he lived in exile, banishing himself from his Country so long as he lived: and at his death (because his bones should not be carried into his Country, whereby his Countrymen might think themselves discharged of their oaths, and full freed from their vow) he caused his bones to be burned, and the ashes thereof to be thrown into the sea, to the intent that neither he himself nor any part of him being left, should be brought back into his Country, by which means he caused his Countrymen perpetually to keep those good and wholesome laws, to the unspeakable profit of the Commonwealth.  

Plu. in vita Darij.  Zopirus a nobleman of Persia also, tendering his Prince & Country, insomuch that when the great City of Babylon rebelled against Darius his Lord and king, to the great trouble & vexation of the whole commonwealth, and could by no means be subdued, he then in favour of his prince and country, privily and unawares went and cut off his own nose, lips, ears, and in other deformed manner pitifully mangling his body, fled into the City of Babylon, saying that Darius his master and certain other of his cruel Countrymen, had so shamefully disfigured and martyred him, because (saith he) I persuaded him to have peace with your city. Which when they heard, greatly pitying his distressed case, and in recompense thereof made him chief captain and governor of their town, by which means he yielded up the rebellious Babylonians to his sovereign Lord the king, 
Li. in bello Punico.  to the great good & quieting of his country. Did not Scevola that noble Roman, when the city of Rome was besieged by the mighty Porsena king of Tuscan, willingly run to desperate death to purchase liberty to his country: for he apparelled himself in beggars clothes, came forth of the city by night, and ranged in the enemy's camp, till he had found out the Tent of Persena the king, minding to slay that mighty Tuscan, who then so strongly compassed and environed their city. But he mistaking the king, slew his Secretary, and miss his mark, who being thereupon presently taken, and his pretended purpose further known, Porsena the king caused a great fire to be made to burn Scevola in, which when he came to the place, he thrust his right hand willingly into the fire, first suffering it to burn to ashes, courageously saying; I willingly commit this my hand to the fire, which failed to kill Porsena the tyrant. Further affirming at his death, that there were three hundredth Romans more ready priest, which had also sworn the death of the king, if he failed, and would as willingly venture themselves in their countries cause, as he before them had done: and as it were among themselves striving who first should do that good service to their country. Which when Porsena had heard, he did not much discommend their faithfulness towards their Commonwealth, but with all speed removed his siege, and departed from the walls of Rome, to the great rejoicing of the citizens. Thus ought every man to have a special care & regard to preserve his native country and commonwealth. For when both Princes and noble estates have willingly ventured life, nay run to present death, for the safeguard of the weal public, much more than ought every private person and mean subject in Prince and countries cause valiantly to venture both life and limb, with right courageous minds in defence of so honest and good a cause.  Scho. 
I confess that every subject aught willingly to offer his body in defence of his Prince and native Soil, and not to have so great a care for the preservation of his private person, as for the benefit and welfare of his Prince and Commonwealth. Were it not a vile reproach and ignomy to those people that should by their cowardliness suffer their king to be slain in the field, and they themselves to remain alive and give the looking on? Contrariwise, is it not great honour to him that shall hazard his life, yea or run to right desperate exploits in the good cause or quarrel of his Prince? To conclude, it is the part of every good prince to have a care of the welfare of his commonwealth, and of the preservation of his subjects: and also the part of all honest Subjects to have a dutiful care to preserve their prince and a manly courage to defend their country. Truly we read in most ancient histories, of divers who by their noble valour, wise policy, and manly courage, have defended (from the invasion of foreign foes) both their weal public from subversion, their stately towns and cities from ruin and decay, & also the whole body of their countrymen from most cruel murder and pitiful slaughter, and yet in the end have been most vilely recompensed by their unkind countrymen. Was not Manlius a Roman, 
Q Curtius' fo. 280.  surnamed Capitolinus, who preserved the Capitol or castle of Rome from the cruel force of the Gauls, and did many other noble acts in his countries cause, thrown down from the top of the same Castle, headlong, by his own unkind countrymen, whom he many times both manfully and courageously had defended and saved. Also Miltiades, a noble man of Athens, 
justin. li. 15  which in the field of Marathaon with 10000 Greeks discomfited and put to flight 600000. Persians, and so by his great wisdom and prudent policy, saved & delivered his country from being overrun with such a mighty and huge host, which otherwise had been utterly subdued & overthrown, but after being cast in arrearage of a certain sum of money, he was by his ungrateful Countrymen, condemned into most cruel prison, and there died in fetters, and being dead, he might not be suffered to be buried, until his son had put on him the gives that his father did wear. 
Plu. de Themistocle.  In like sort Themistocles a noble captain of the same ungrateful town of Athens, after he had delivered his Country from the huge & terrible power of Xerxes, putting him to flight and all his great host, making that mighty king (by his circumspect wisdom and policy) shamefully to fly home in a fisherman's boat unknown, for the safety and preservation of himself; notwithstanding, was at the last driven his Country, and forced to fly (by the unkind Citizens) to his enemy Xerxes, whom before he had driven from the walls of Athens, but Xerxes willingly received such a friend with great entertainment, and sent him again with a mighty army, to war on his own country, hoping now that he would be sharply revenged on his unkind citizens. But Themistocles being now Lord General against his native country, having in his power the whole destruction and overthrow of his dear commonwealth: yet notwithstanding for all that the Athenians had dealt so extremely with him, he rather chose to die, than any way to hurt his country. And because he would not show himself a traitor to Xerxes, who had put his whole power into his hand, and received him so courteously in his extremity, nor that he would torment the bowels of his ungrateful city, & unmercifully to spoil (with foreign people) his unkind countrymen; to free himself of these two inconveniences, he poisoned himself, 
Valer. li. 9  and so died a more faithful friend to his countrymen than they had deserved. After that Demetrius son of Philip, king of Macedon, whom before I spoke of, had obtained pardon for his father and whole country, by his great modesty & temperance showed in the Senate of Rome, because the Senators did write to his father the king in this manner; We the Senators of Rome do not pardon thee for thy own sake, but for the modest demeanour of thy son, showed here before us in the Senate. Which thing Philip (by the instigation of certain of his flattering Subjects) did take so displeasantly and grievously that his son was in such estimation, and better accounted of than himself, and therefore so hated his son for his great pains and diligent care, whereby he preserved both his father and Country from the revenge of the Romans. At whose good hap also certain of his unkind Countrymen, with the help of his unnatural brother Perses, so repined, insomuch that they procured false witness, to accuse him to his father, being willing to hear any cause against his son. Thus by the surmise of his unnatural Countrymen he was condemned to death by his unkind father, who before had both studied to preserve the honour of his father, and also to maintain the flourishing estate of his country. Did not the Romans banish and exile the noble and worthy Cicero, by the procurement of Clodius, 
Livi. li. 3.  when he had preserved and defended his Country from ruin and utter destruction, 
Polib. in bello Roma norum contra Carthaginenses.  and saved the noble City of Rome from the fury of Catiline, even for because he had put to death the chief traitors and enemies of the Commonwealth in that dangerous conspiracy, who sought to spoil, sack, take and burn their native City Rome. Was not the same ungrateful City Rome found unkind to her most dear friend and preserver the worthy Scipio; for when the Romans were in great distress thorough the bitter and sharp wars which the Carthaginians long time most grievously held against them, being also mightily overmatched with the subtle and wily Hannibal, chief General of the host of the Carthaginians, who came marching to the very walls of Rome, conquering the Romans, staying their Consuls, and beating down their strongest powers: whose force and policy made the city of Rome to shake for fear, the Senators & grave fathers to tremble in despair, the noble matrons and young damsels to cry out and lament most pitifully, as if the City even then should have been sacked, knowing not how by any means to repel the enemy, being in this distress, and ready to be spoiled by their mortal foe, when all their flourishing young Gentlemen were almost slain, and their chiefest Captains and most noble warriors put to the sword. Now in this great extremity, the noble Scipio required leave of the sorrowful Romans to revenge their injuries on the bloody minded Carthaginians, not doubting but that with a lusty courage, and circumspect care, to encounter the power and policy of fierce Hannibal. Thus when the grave Senators, and the rest of the distressed Romans did see such willingness in the noble youth Scipio, knowing that both his father and uncle were slain in the same war before, also seeing such invincible courage in the brave minded Gentleman, they all with willing consent made him governor almost over their conquered band: requiring him with lamentable tears, (hanging about his neck) that at this time he would remember their miserable and distressed estate, and seek to hold up and maintain their wavering Common wealth, which was now ready to fall into the hands of their cruel enemy. Thus Scipio having taken his countries cause on him, with a noble heart marched against the hardy Hannibal, and drove him (as well by policy as by force) out of the borders and confines of Italy, overcoming him in divers notable battles in Spain, getting also the whole Country of Spain again, which the Carthaginians had lately won from the Romans, not resting until he had chased and driven Hannibal back into his own country of Africa, yea and in the end penned him up hard to the very walls of Carthage, which was his chiefest defence and refuge, where was fought a cruel and bloody battle betwixt two of the most noblest captains of the world, contending in that fight for the Empire of the whole world, watching to whom now it should fall. For the pride of these two empires of Rome and Carthage, could never digest or brook the stateliness of each other, which first was the cause of this bloody war, but now at this time it was turned to a whole Monarchy, for Scipio in this battle overcame the Carthaginians, and caused stately Carthage to be yielded to his mercy. Now when Scipio had finished this perilous war, he returned with the conquest of Africa and Spain, making the stout captain Hannibal to fly for his safety, causing the haughty Carthaginians to yield themselves on their knees to the mercy of the Romans, returning into Rome with the Empire (in a manner) of the whole world, to the great joy and everlasting fame of the Romans. Surely a great and sudden change, to see the Romans reign as victors, when that not long before the dreadful Captain Hannibal had ranged all Italy over, and driven the Romans into their city of Rome, who every day expected the destruction of themselves and their City; and now not only to be Lords again over their own Empire, but also over the stately Carthaginians, who before had sought their subversion and confusion, which happened by the wise government, and valiant courage of noble Scipio. The Romans being now freed from all miseries and calamities, and again ruling as kings over the whole world, could not choose but defile themselves with notable ingratitude, and spot themselves with wonderful unkind dealing: for Scipio who had thus pleasured his country, because the world had him in great honour and admiration, coming daily from far to the city of Rome to behold and do honour to so valiant and fortunate a Gentleman, who had so manfully defended his country, and gotten such peerless praise to the Romans: wherefore the Romans disdaining that the honour of Scipio should daily so increase, repining and grudging at him, seeking by all means possible to hunt him from the city, because they would not acknowledge themselves to be beholding unto him for his noble acts, despising that any one should live among them, that should be accounted the preserver or upholder of their common wealth, which was by reason of their intolerable pride: therefore they sought by all means to banish and exile him from the City; (which was by his means preserved, as the world at this day can well witness) inventing against him strange and divers accusations. First he was charged with the old matter betwixt the Locrenses and Pleminius, wherein (as they say) he being Consul was corrupted with money, and therefore ministered not true justice. Again, they laid to his charge, that his son being prisoner to Antiochus (their enemy) was delivered to him without ransom, which they thought was very suspicious. For these small causes, he was called before the Senate to answer to their objections, which were but of small importance, even as if he had been a mean man & base person, urging causes against him with extremity, without favour, or having any respect to his noble acts done for the Common wealth; which ingratitude he took so displesantly, that he departed from the Court, and went into the country to the town of Lytarne, where he dwelled as long as he lived, exiling himself from Rome for ever: and at his death he commanded his body to be buried there also, that his bones might not rest in that unkind City. The most worthy Captain Hannibal was also banished Carthage by his unkind country men, when he had done wonderful exploits in his countries cause: and although he was in the end conquered by Scipio, yet was he well known to be the most famous and worthiest Captain living in the world at that time, notwithstanding Fortune favoured him not. Thus we see, that divers are most vile & hardly recompensed by their unkind country men, for their good service done.  Fame. 
Yet notwithstanding, my good friend, although divers countries have been unkind and ungrateful to their noble Country men, it is no consequent that any Country man should be untrue to his native soil and Commonwealth: for the fault is much more heinous and far more grievous, for the man to be untrue to his Common wealth, than for the country to show an unkind part to the man, although it be bad in both. But now again to our purpose, though we have somewhat digressed from the matter, in showing what man ought to do for his Country, and with what willingness he ought to hazard life for the preservation thereof; it shall not seem unfit to retire again to our former conference, concerning the government of man, which altogether ought to be grounded on temperance, as our former speech hath hitherto tended. There is an inconvenience which bringeth to man wonderful miseries and manifold calamities, which is fond and doting Love: I speak not of that Love, which is commendable, and lawfully allowed, but of such doting love as shall hereafter more manifestly be explained. Magna est profecto Latmorum poetarum cohors, quae solebant dicere, Omnia vincit amor. Surely great is the number of Roman Poets, which were wont to say, Love vanquisheth and overcometh all things: and truly, I must needs confess, great is the force and fury of love; but much to be qualified by the aforesaid gift: 
Hesiodus.  notwithstanding, Hesiodus is of this mind, Omnium primum natus est chaos, inde terra, tartara & amor. First of all things the Heavens were made, than the earth, than hell, and next after love. Parmenides quoque, 
Parmenides.  ante deos omnes natum amorem autumat. Parmenides also doth affirm, that love was created before the Gods themselves. Euripides, 
Euripides.  omnium deorum supremum esse Amorem. Love (saith Euripides) is the highest of all the Gods. 
Ovid de Amore.  Ovid being about to speak of Love, saith; Regnat, & in dominos, ius habet ille deos. Love doth reign and hath a dominion and regiment in the very Gods themselves. All which sayings of the Poets, are but to show the piercing force and ancient antiquity of Love: feigning also, that jupiter being chief of all the Gods, could not withstand the fury of Love, (much less than could any of the inferior Gods) but oft did change his shape to have his pleasure, Nam iovem ipsum, modo in Cygnum, modo in Taurum transformavit, quandoque in aurum conslavit: Neptunum equi, 
Quidius de Meta.  Mercurium Hirci formam induere coegit: Apollinem ut Admeti pasceret armenta compnlit. For jove: transformed himself sometime into a Swan, sometime into a Bull, and again sometime into a golden shower: Neptune to a Horse, Mercury to the shape of a Goat, Apollo that he might feed the flocks of Admetus, did also change his shape and form. If the Gods (as the Poets affirm) have been thus inflamed with Love, after so vain & fond a sort, than no doubt but mortal men are more entangled in her traps and snares, and blindly without consideration do fall to foolish fancy, and doting desire. But this no doubt is but foolish babble of the prating Poets, rather encouraging fond men to go forward in their folly: for that (say they) the Gods could not bridle their affections from the force of love, therefore much less men. Well let this suffice, what greater calamity hath happened to man than such as hath been procured by inordinate and unsatiable love. Was not Paris, son to Priamus' king of Troy, the very cause by his inordinate love, that brought to pass such cruel wars betwixt the Greeks and Trojans, wherein both his aged father and brethren were slain, his country spoiled, and the city of Troy mightily defaced with fire, & thrown flat to the ground, with the slaughter of many thousands of his countrymen. What was the first occasion of the great war betwixt the Thebans and Phoceans, which could hardly be ended in ten years, but the fond love of a certain Phocean, who took perforce a Theban woman out of the hands of a Theban. What also was the cause that Philip king of Macedon so oft and suddenly returned from his wars, leaving all, as the proverb saith, at six & seven, with out order, to his reproach and wonderful loss, but only the importunate love he bore to Cleopater. Did not noble Achilles purchase great dishonour by doting love? For when he lay at the siege of Troy, because Atridas had taken his sweet love & green sleeves from him, he would no longer fight in his countries cause which was the death of many a thousand Greek, until his sweet heart Briseis was restored again, or else (as some say) because Hector had slain his loving companion Patroclus in his own armour. Wise Ulysses was in like sort entangled in the same snare, for when Agamemnon and the other captains of Gréece called for him to go to Troy to revenge the villainy which the Trojans had offered, enrolling his name as a chief Peer of the Greeks': but Ulysses newly married to Penelope, was not willing to go to Troy in his countries cause, but to play and daily with his late love at home, insomuch that when the king and captains of the Greeks' were fully prepared and ready to go to Troy, Ulysses feigned himself mad, and out of his wits, and because he would the better persuade them of his madness, he coupled dogs together, and ran with a plough raging over the fields sowing salt, making as though he were stark mad without either wit or sense, but Palamedes loathing to lose so fit a mate as Ulysses was, took Thelemacus the son of Ulysses, and laid him in the way as his father came running with his plough: but Ulysses not so mad, but lifted up the plough, and miss the child, whereby Palamedes perceived that he dissembled the matter, and cried out, thy craft and subtlety Ulysses is bewrayed and found out, therefore leave off thy counterfeit madness, and go with us to Troy. Thus when Ulysses had disgraced himself (by his doting folly) to his shame and reproach, was in the end forced to go to Troy with a flea in his ear. Hercules that noble champion and Conqueror of the world, when he had done many notable and worthy exploits, whereof the world at this day beareth witness; at the last to the utter defacing of all his former actions he fell to doting in such fond sort, that he laid his weapons at the foot of jole his love, and became her spinning slave, refusing no toil whereunto she commanded him, which thing (notwithstanding his valiant deeds) at this day remaineth a vile reproach and blot to his dead carcase. What was the cause that the most valiant Samson lost his great force and strength, but by the peevish love he bore to Dalila, who had oftentimes attempted his destruction, but could never bring her purpose to effect, until such time, that he through inordinate and doting love, must needs reveal his secrets, which was the chief cause of his utter confusion: for these causes did the Poets feign, that women are to men an evil, yet notwithstanding they own them this favour, to say, they are necessary evils, Homerus saith, 
Homerus.  Vsque adeònihilimprobius velmuliere peius, that nothing is more vile or bad than a woman: and divers other Poets, Foemina nihil pestilentius esse confirmârunt, & mulierem omnem esse malam, do affirm that nothing is more pestilent or wicked than a woman, and that every woman is bad and evil. Upon which occasion of the Poets babbling, 
Lacon.  this merry jest sprang first: Lacon cùm uxorem duxisset perpusillam, dicebatè malis quod minimum esset eligendum: Lacon, when he had married a very little and small wife, did say, out of many evils the least is to be chosen. But surely the vain babbling of the prating Poets, in this cause is utterly to be condemned: for under the colour that all women are evil, they go about to hide and cloak the foolish folly of mad doting men, making women a veil or shadow to hide and cover the doting fondness of unsatiable men. Indeed the old proverb is, Ignis, mare, mulier, tria sunt mala. That sire, the sea, and a woman, are three evils. Truly a strong reason, then may it like wise be said that men are evil, for that one man hath killed another: and surely by this reason the former three are also evil. For if a man will cast himself into the fire, no doubt but that he shall burn, or into the sea, where he may be drowned, or else into the calamities of such a marriage, or otherwise over fond to dote, which he well knew before would purchase his trouble and vexation. But my good friend, my purpose is not to exclaim on, or blame faultless women, who cannot bridle the fond affection of their importunate lovers: wherefore I will somewhat more amply speak of fond and doting love, which is as well in the one as in the other, and what inconvenience doth consequently follow their doting folly. Semiramis being the most amiable Lady of the world, 
Plu. de vita Semiramis. Et just.  by reason of her surpassing beauty, was sent for into Assiria, to the king of that region, that he might satisfy himself with the sight of her péerles pulchritude: before whose presence she came according to the tenor of his message. The king had no sooner cast his wanton eye upon her passing beauty, but was forthwith inflamed with the fire of affection towards her: then after certain circumstances overpassed, she required of the doting king a rich reward, namely a rob of estate, the government of Assiria for five days continuance, and the absolute authority in all things that were done in the kingdom. Which petition of Semiramis was granted by the king, no denial made to the contrary. In conclusion, when things (without exception) were in the gripes of her aspiring mind, she commanded the fond king to be slain, whereby he was dispossessed of his dominion, and she presently thereupon enjoyed the sceptre, 
●lu de vita Candauli.  and crown imperial over all Assiria. Did not Candaulus king of Sardis dote in foolish and fond love over his wife, insomuch that he thought her the fairest creature in the world: yet not content to satisfy himself with her beauty, but in fond and doting sort must needs show his wife naked to his friend, to make him partaker of her surpassing beauty and peerless person: and therefore he called his friend Gyges' to his chamber, and hide him secretly against his wife should come to bed: but his friend Gyges' dissuading him from his folly, notwithstanding Candaulus would have no nay in his importunate suit, but that his friend should both know & see his his privy benefit: so that he was constrained to obey his fond request. Now when the wife of Candaulus perceived herself so betrayed by the invention of her husband (for Gyges' incontinently discloased himself) she was mightily abashed, & wonderfully ashamed, for in that country it was counted a most wonderful dishonesty and reproach, that a woman should be seen naked of any man, saving of her husband: yet for all that, she dissembled the matter for a time, meaning in the end to take sharp revenge on her husband, for the great villainy he had offered her. At the last she called Gyges' to her chamber, who before had seen her naked, to the end to have slain him: threatening him, that unless he would presently revenge the wrong and great abuse which her husband had offered her in his presence, which he consequently consented unto for the safeguard of his life, with firm oaths, & solemn vows, which was, that he should kill the king her husband, and take her to wife, with the kingdom, hoping that he would be content to possess so good a benefit, and not to make any other privy or partaker of that which he best esteemed. Thus whether it were for the safeguard of his life, which he stood in peril to lose, or for the coveting of so beautiful a Queen, & large a kingdom which now was offered him, it resteth doubtful, but he forthwith executed the Queen's pleasure on his doting master, which happened through his own fond folly. What inconvenience also happened to Artaxerxes, 
Eli. li. 10.  king of Persia, by such foolish folly, in doting over his son so fond, that he must make him his master in his life time. For being drowned in such fond affection toward his son Darius, (not content himself with his sceptre and kingdom which he quietly possessed) he presently advanced him to taste the secretness and sweet of his kingdom, not satisfying himself to be a commander over his people, but would be a servant, and be commanded by his son, & so it happened to him as he deserved, for this princox his son, being established in the kingdom by his doting father, became at the last so lordly over his foolish father that he would command him in all causes as his dutiful and obedient subject, it chanced that his father Artaxerxes had married the concubine which he before had taken in his wars, who at that time was peerless in beauty. Now Darius being in possession of his father's kingdom, by virtue of his authority he called his father before his presence as a common subject, saying, Father, as you have put the kingdom into my hand, and made me absolute King thereof: so whosoever this kingdom containeth, is also my subject, and under my authority, therefore sir, my pleasure is, that you deliver and yield into my hands, your wife (which was the concubine) for she is fair in my sight, and therefore I greatly desire to have her, and by virtue of my authority I straightly command, no resistance to the contrary. But Artaxerxes, although he had made his son King, knew that he was his father, wherefore he contrary to his sons mind, detained Aspasia his new married wife; which denial caused his son Darius to conspire the death of his resisting father, because (as he thought) he was not absolute King to command, as after the death of his father he should be, and also did associate in this his unnatural confederacy, fifty brothers which were begotten by his own father Artaxerxes, by divers concubines. But this doting King (as it chanced) although he had made himself a subject to his proud son, yet by good help of his nobles, he detected the cause, and found out the treason. And in the same day that Darius made account to accomplish his wicked enterprise, he was himself and all the rest of the confederates taken, and fell into the same snare that they had prepared for their aged father: for Artaxerxes put both them, their wives and children to the sword, that none of that wicked race should remain alive, the aged King for very grief that he had conceived by his own folly, soon ended his life, a more happier King than a father. It were but a tragical history of Leyr, sometime King of this land, which is so sufficiently set down and made manifest in their English Chronicles, what enormities, calamities and infinite miseries, happened to him, by the fond and doting love which he bore towards his daughters. For by a foolish conceit which he had taken toward them, so far doting in an unmeasurable sort, and as it were being over much blinded with a fond conceit and foolish affection towards the young nice wenches, that he must needs (forsooth) divide his Kingdom betwixt them in his life, & willingly dispossess himself, standing ever after to their reward & courtesy. Thus when he had displaced himself, and division of the Kingdom was made jointly to the use of his daughters, being bestowed and married in several parts of the Land, he himself thought good to remain a time with the one, and as long a space with the other, until the good old King had tired both his daughters; who soon began to be weary of their aged Father, denying and abbridging him in a manner of things necessary and needful: so that the poor old King was forced through extreme need to seek redress at his youngest daughters hand, whom he never could well fancy, neither had ever given any thing unto; remaining out of his Kingdom, because he had bequeathed her no part thereof: at whose hand the poor distressed King found relief and also redress of his wrongs, to his great comfort in his old age. Thus it remaineth evident & extant at this day, what miseries, calamities, enormities, infinite troubles and daily vexations, consequently do fall to man by that fond conceit in doting folly, inordinately loving and immoderately fonding over wife, son, daughter, or others whosoever, as the tenor of our conference hath hitherto tended and expressed: therefore my good friend, leaving to your consideration our former speeches, to be well and diligently noted, whereby I may somewhat hereafter perceive that you are profited, and then I shall think my pains well bestowed, and our first meeting right happy. And now in the mean time for the better recovery of your memory, and also being loath to trouble your senses with over much tediousness, I willingly crave pardon to rest, until our next meeting, expecting at this time no further replication, but committing our conference to the safe tuition of your memory. Farewell.  
FINIS.   

The miserable calamities, and lamentable distresses of bloody Battle and ruinous War, with the unspeakable mischiefs that consequently followeth disdainful envy.  
WHereas divers calamities and miseries incident to man, are already sufficiently explained and set down; wherein he wilfully runneth to perdition and present destruction, by his inordinate and unsatiable appetites: not withstanding there remaineth as yet unspoken of the grievous enormities of despiteful War, with the infinite miseries and distressed calamities thereunto belonging, which also happeneth to man by his immoderate and untolerable pride. But now first to decipher the cruel state of ruinous War, it hath been most vainly proved by Logical probations, that War is incident and unevitable to a Common wealth. For (as they say) War bringeth ruin, ruin bringeth poverty, poverty procureth peace, and peace in time increaseth riches, riches causeth stateliness, stateliness increaseth envy, envy in the end procureth deadly malice, mortal malice proclaimeth open war and battle: and from war again as before is rehearsed: so that by this argument, the weal public must either be in poverty or else in war, (which truly we oftentimes see to fall out accordingly). But is this sophistical argument of sufficient force to blind and cloak the bad corruption of man's nature, as though riches were master to the man, & not the man over his riches; either is it consequently incident unto him that is rich, to carry malice, envy and mortal hatred in his mind, or otherwise to him that is in poverty to seek for peace; Then let us attribute it to the wheel wherein one thing successively followeth another, and not to be redressed by the provident government of man. Surely I am not of that mind, although riches doth oft abuse the man, and the man his riches yet notwithstanding it is no general consequent, that all rich men are malicious persons, seeking after ruinous war & bloody battle: for than should I think it a vain thing for a man to strive with the corruption of his nature, to prevent and disappoint such miserable calamities by his provident wisdom, as may after incidently happen and fall out; but rather wish him to run headlong with his unbridled affections to such casual chances, as may (howsoever the world falleth out) come to pass. But truly I am of this opinion, that whosoever hath the gift of temperance, can neither be proud in authority and high dignity, whereby malice and envy may grow and increase; nor in poverty to be so unsatiable covetous, that sufficient shall not serve him; but whether riches increase, continue, or diminish, no doubt but that Temperance hath such a provident foresight and prudent care to hold itself content without battle. Wherefore to make frustrate this former fond Argument, War is not so incident to man, but that by wisdom it may easily be prevented.  
But now to return to our purpose again concerning the calamity of war; 
justin. li. 1.  the ancient Historiographer Trogus Pompeius reporteth, that Ninus King of Assyria first made war, being stirred up with pride and covetousness, and first of all others assayed to bring other Nations and Regions under his subjection, fight with his neighbours and confines for superiority, wherein he made great effusion of blood and mighty slaughters of people. Yet notwithstanding the same Trogus affirmeth, that there were certain Kings before him, who invaded barbarous Nations and rude Regions, to the intent to bring them to be civil people. For (saith he) Fuere quidem temporibus antiquiores Vexores rex Aegypti, & Scythiae rex Tanais, quorum alter in Pontum, alter in Aegyptum excessit: sed longinqua, non finitima bella gerebant; nec imperium sibi, sed populis suis gloriam tenebant, contentique victoria, imperio abstinebant. There were before him, Vexores King of Egypt, and Tanais King of Scythia, the one going into Pontus, the other into Egypt, and making war a far off, and not on their neighbours: neither did they seek to get principality to themselves, but perpetual glory to their Country men, contenting themselves with victory, refrained to hold them under subjection, saving in repressing their barbarous manners. Therefore saith Pompeius; Ninus was the first that made war, because he invaded his confines and borderers, striving for regiment, fight for superiority, and earnestly going about to get the Kingdoms of his neighbours under his subjection; and not these Kings who sent their power into foreign countries, to tame and make civil such barbarous people, and to bring them to good government, and then to leave their kingdoms to their own authority. But Ninus hath been so rightly imitated and justly followed, that at this day war increaseth of trifling causes, to most bloody battle. Did not the cruel war of the Persians grow of a small occasion and grudge betwixt Menander Samius, and the Athenians. Also the bloody conflict called Praelium sacrum, began about the exaction of the judgement of the Amphictions? the Cheronean war bred of a light occasion betwixt Philip & the Athenians. Which wars, although they sprang but of frivolous causes, could not be ended without great slaughters. Therefore it is an easier thing to begin war, than to end it: wherefore a man ought first to have a care how to finish that which he taketh in hand, or else he runneth blindly to his enterprise, having also consideration, that whosoever shall first begin war, sounding the trump of defiance upon small occasions, doth as it were open his gate to be spoiled, as well of the foreign as domestic enemy; such misgovernment & disorder there is in war: for the rude and unbridled rascal doth gape after so fit an opportunity, to devour, spoil and rob the honest and true subject, boisterously intruding himself into the houses, & arrogantly challenging to be partakers of the goods & substance of the quiet people, which they have long time traveled for with great pains and careful toil, so that he who cannot be content to enjoy and possess his own proper goods privately with quietness, let him proclaim open war, & he shall soon be rid of that grief. Who is so prone to bloody broils, as such as have by evillhusbandrie (as they term it) spent their lands, 
Salustius libro. 2.  goods and substance, in vain pleasures and vile follies? Was not Rome in great peril to have been spoiled by a notable crew of bankrupts. For Lucius Sergius Catiline, a noble man of Rome, when he had by riot spend his patrimony, being altogether unable to maintain his prodigality and wanton vain in immoderate spending, went about to spoil, sack, and destroy his own native city and countrymen, associating to him in this his grievous conspiracy, such outlaws and bankrupts as either stood in fear of a law, or else such unthrifts as himself, as had wanton and most vainly spent and consumed their goods and possessions, which presently were as soon alured, as himself was ready to entice, hoping to be made rich by the spoil of their own countrymen, when they had unthriftily wasted their own. This rabble rout of unbridled rioters had wrought their mischievous purpose to such effect, that their wicked enterprise had taken place, if by the provident & wise foresight of Cicero it had not been prevented, neither was it known that any one Roman of good government, or any one that lived orderly in the commonwealth, without riot or other bad and lewd conversation, was found culpable or guilty in this dangerous conspiracy, although divers principal and chief men at the first were suspected, notwithstanding they were in the end clearly defended, and apparently freed from that slanderous reproach and ignomy by their own Citizens. 
Liu. li. 5.  Did not Brennus in like manner lead and conduct a mighty & huge band of Gauls, who had before spent their goods by riot, prodigality, and disordering themselves in many bad and vile misdemeanours, spoiling and robbing most unmercifully the countries as they marched, committing sacrilege, with a number of most vile villains, to recover again their former vain expenses? Did they not in the end after many cruel acts, unsatiable spoils, and shameful robberies, most miserably perish, to the wonderful example of such spoiling outlaws? What was the cause that the Trojans invaded Italy, making such havoc and spoil in what country soever they arrived, but their greedy & covetous minds to recover their unthrifty losses? For when they had by their own unfaithfulness greatly abused their friends the Greeks', with a most shameful abuse, the Greeks' in revengement thereof sacked and spoiled their city, slaying and murdering the unfaithful Trojans; saving certain which afterward made wars in Italy, which were saved at the destruction of Troy, for betraying their king and city into the hands of the Grecians, this remain of the disloyal Trojans so scoured and peeled the coasts of divers countries, to get and take perforce whatsoever they could finger, arrived at the last in Italy, where they made sharp war, spoiling the people, and wasting the Country, until such time as they had taken the whole region from the lawful inhabitors thereof. Thus it is most evident, that first war is begun and set forward either by the unsatiable person, or else by the rebel, bankrupt, or outlaw: the one to satisfy his unbridled appetite, plaguing divers for his own private gain: the other for his misgovernment and disobedience both to Prince and law, to whom war is sweet and most pleasant to answer their greedy expectation withal. But war to the contented person and quiet subject, is a hell, and the very scourge of God, the name whereof is most odious and terrible to the quiet mind, for it bringeth all miseries and calamities to man, as namely, plague, pestilence, sudden death, murder, bloody battle, cruel slaughters, miserable destruction of many towns, overthrow of stately cities, sword, fire and famine, with a thousand miseries incidert to man by such a spiteful guest. The old proverb saith, Dulce bellum inexpertis, sed acerbum experientibus. War is sweet and pleasant to the unskilful and ignorant, but bitter and unsavoury to the skilful. Yet notwithstanding, although war be most fierce and cruel, yet is it stoutly to be maintained against the unsatiable and invading enemy, and with might and main to be followed, to the beating down and suppressing of such spiteful foes, as are ever ready priest and bend to disturb a quiet and peaceable kingdom, & being blinded with avarice, do right soon consent to lamentable slaughters and effusion of blood: it is much more easier to defend a kingdom being already possessed, and to repel the adversary, than to invade other regions, or conquer foreign countries, for it is to be thought that the people will fight more courageously, both for their prince, country, liberty, wives and children, house and family, than the proud invading enemy, who fights to satisfy his vainglorious mind, and unsatiable appetite. Was not Xerxes' king of Persia (when he invaded Greece with such an innumerable power, who also perceiving the strength of his multitude, commanded both sea and laud to obey his pleasure) driven back out of Greece by a small company of the defending Grecians, causing him to fly with speed home to his own Country again to his great shame and dishonour. 
Polib. li. 6.  Was not such invading the very chief and original cause that the Romans subdued Carthage, for if the proud and unsatiable Carthaginians had not first invaded Italy and the Romans, their own City and commonwealth could never have been overthrown, and subdued. For when first the Carthaginians entered Italy, minding to make a whole conquest of the Roman empire, without cause at that time offered by the Romans, the Romans then seeing their Empire in danger, their whole state in peril, their wives and children likely to be spoiled, the City defaced, and their country utterly to be ruinated and destroyed: they then with manly courage, and specially by the good help of the wise and valiant Scipio, repelled them Italy, drove them home into Africa, & in the end to the very walls of their chiefest refuge, which was to the stately town and city of Carthage: & there in the last battle they were overcome by the Romans, and forced to sue for favour at the hands of them whom before they had invaded. The noble Scipio considering that in that battle did consist and depend the victory and whole overthrow of one of those who stately Empires of Rome and Carthage. And thus in this battle they on both sides were stirred and pricked forward in hope of possessing each others Empire, had no other means to animate and encourage his soldiers, than by repeating and reiterating unto them the peril of their own estate, and with what cruel and bloody minds the greedy Carthagiginians had invaded them before. Promising them further (to the intent to prick their minds forward more willingly to fight) that if at that time and in that fight they did get the victory, them they should return home to their own country, carrying with them liberty for ever, and never again to fear such cruel invasion as before they had tasted of. For saith he, Adesse finem belli in manibus esse predam Carthagenis, si forte pugnaverint, etc. The war is even now at an end, the pray and spoil of the Carthaginians were already in their hands, and leave should be given them, after this victory, to return home to their country, parents, wives and children, and to their household Gods,  
So by the encouragement of the worthy Scipio, they obtained a most triumphant victory, returning to Rome, having conquered the causers of that bloody war; 
just. li. 1.  which they could never have done, if the Carthaginians first had not made them desperate by invading their Region. Also in the great wars & sharp fight betwixt the Medians and the Persians, in the time of Cirus and Astyages, there happened a notable thing, which in this cause doth merit remembrance. For when the Persians under the conduct of king Cyrus, were driven back, and forced by Astyages and the Medes to retire, being most eagerly chased by the fierce invading foe, with cruel force and bloody minds, until the Persian women rebuked the cowardliness of their flying men, in this sort; Nam matres & uxores eorum obuiam occurrunt, orant in prelium revertantur, cunctantibus sublata vest, obscoena corporis ostendunt, rogantes num in uteros matrum vel uxorum velint refugere. The men by this sharp reprehension of the women, went back again into the battle, and put unto shameful flight those who before had caused them to retire. For than they bethought themselves whether they should fly if they lost their own kingdom, thinking it very hard to live and inhabit under the rule and dominions of other, when as they could not enjoy and quietly possess their own patrimony: and also when they looked back toward their women, who came upon them in such undecent sort as hath before been showed, they were greatly ashamed considering their own cowardliness, who were feign to be stirred up, and put in mind by their valiant women to defend their country and family. Therefore the art of war is to be exercised, and the feats and acts of chivalry highly to be commended, not so much for the invading of others, 
Valer. f. 345  as for the defending of their own, and beating down of the proud vaunting foe. This was an ancient order & custom amongst the Romans, to set open the Temple gates of janus in the time of war, and in peace to close them up again, for when they had thoroughly seen the mutability and uncertainty of frowning battle, and the casualties of cruel war, being overwearied and tired with the calamities and miseries thereof, at last they erected and builded a temple in their city, placing therein the image and picture of janus, which was pictured with a bifronce or double forehead, looking plainly and sensibly both ways, the temple doors and gates being closely bolted, locked and shut up in time of peace & tranquillity; and in the time of war (either foreign or civil) they commanded to unlock and set open the gates of the same temple: to this end & purpose, that the people of the City, might thoroughly behold the double face and backward look of janus, which signified and represented to the beholder, a foresight of future things finally to happen, aswell as for the provision of the present state. Thus it was continually used in peace to be shut, and in wars to be open, whereby both the Senators, Centurions, Captains and other Officers and Governors of the people, were put in mind (in the time of war) to have a provident foresight & circumspect care what might happen thereby, therein, or thereafter, as well as what seemed to stand good by their present knowledge. Which prudent policy caused the wise Romans to prevent divers inconveniences: for it is not good over blindly to go forward in such causes, trusting to their own force, nor to fickle fortune, who commonly deceiveth those that trust her. It fortuned upon a time that Dionysius the second, 
Eli. lib. 5.  and Philip the son of Amintas met together, and falling into communication of many matters (as the use and custom is in conference & circular talk) they harped both upon this string, Philip asked this question of Dionysius Quando cum tantum regnum accepisset à parent, non id defendisset & conseruasset; How it chanced, that he having received so ample a patrimony of his Father, did not defend and maintain the same. Whereunto he made this answer; Non mirum, 
Responsio Dionysijs.  quoniam omnia relinquens, fortunam solùm qua ea paraverat, & tutus fuerat, pater non mihi tradidit. No marvel (saith he) for my father leaving all things to me in abundance, did not deliver to me withal his flourishing fortune, whereby he obtained, and maintained the same. But truly where fortune (most commonly) is present and waighteth at will and pleasure, 
Pol. li. 7.  there is wanting a satisfied mind, which was verified by the Legates of Carthage. For when the Romans had utterly overthrown and subdued them, they were forced to sue to the Senate of Rome for peace, in which ambassade their was a grave Father of Carthage who boldly stood forth in the ●● the Romans (as thy first motion was) rather than to move war, which doth so happily fall out to the great honour of the Carthaginians, no Hanno, now I warrant thee, we shall hear a Senator of Rome speak here in the Senate house of Carthage, most humbly craving peace at our hands for their distressed Country and Commonwealth, or else far greater spoils of Rome shall come to Carthage. Whereunto the grave Hanno made this sober answer; I was determined (saith he) Fathers conscript, at this time, in your so great and common joy to have spoken nothing which might have been displeasant to you: but I can now do no less but answer the rash Senator, that inquireth whether the wars begun against the Romans forethink me or no? To him I answer that I still forethink it, and blame our victorious Captain, until I see the war taken up and finished by some tolerable condition, neither shall any other thing cause me desist from desiring our ancient peace, save only a new league confirmed betwixt us. This news which Mago hath blazed abroad, are very joyful to Hamilco and other of Hannibal's friends and servants, and to me also if we take our good fortune while it is offered: but if we let it pass and the time also, in which we may be thought rather to grant peace than crave it, I doubt lest this joy will deceive us & come to nothing. With these, and such like speeches by him uttered in the Senate, he quietly made an end: but Hamilco and the rest of the Senators gave no regard to his Oration, for that they thought it either proceeded of mere malice betwixt Hannibal and him, or else to hold down or keep under the glory and renown of flourishing Carthage, which in deed was not any thing so.  
Thus, for the true meaning of Hanno, he was openly checked in the Senate by the vainglorious Senators: who afterward (but not in time) remembered his counsel, believing nothing that he said at the first, until experience had made them thoroughly feel their own folly. On the other part, after divers great overthrows and bloody slaughters of the half vanquished Romans, 
Poli. lib 5.  the distressed Senators did choose for their chief Captain to fight against Hannibal and the Carthaginians, Q. Fabius Maximus, a most noble and prudent Senator: also at that time with him a young Gentleman of Rome, named Minutius, who was in like sort by the Senate made master of the horsemen, being a hotspur, an over desperate youth, which afterward turned the Romans to much displeasure and misery. Now Fabius being thus unequally paired with a wilful fellow marched forward toward the Carthaginians, and had always a circumspect care lest that he should commit any thing over rashly, being not willing desperately to hazard his charge, and the whole state of the Roman Empire at the first brunt, or in one battle, with so valiant a Captain and worthy soldier as Hannibal was, wherefore he led his army by easy journeys, and good espies, into the field against his enemy, pitching his camp in the high places of the high hills not far from the Carthaginian camp: whereupon Hannibal seeing anew captain of the Romans, thought good also to offer him present battle, to welcome him at his first coming, brought his men forth into the fields, in order of battle, and good array to fight: but wary Fabius all the day kept himself close in his Camp, and would not suffer his men to fight, for that he knew Hannibal went about to prove him, if in case he might find him rash, and unadvised, as he had found the other captains before: therefore in like case by holding his men from battle, he went about to try and prove the patience of Hannibal, which indeed he right wisely found out: for Hannibal, when he perceived that Fabius would not rashly venture battle, he forthwith retired out of the field into his camp again, fearing greatly in his mind the soberness of the wise Roman Captain, being in his judgement a man much unlike to Sempronius, or Flaminius, whom before he had overthrown by their rashness and desperate folly. 
Sem●ronius.  But Minutius master of the horsemen, when he had espied the Carthaginians marching in order of battle, would needs have issued out on the bravado, and given them downright battle▪ in this his rash and desperate mood, hazarding all at one time, had not the wise Fabius withholden and persuaded him to the contrary. For which cause he openly exclaimed on, and dispraised the slackness of Quintus Fabius, sending word to Rome what a coward they had placed in office. Yet notwithstanding, for all the inventions of Minutius, who had so earnestly maligned and inueied against him, both openly by Orations in the Camp, and also by letters sent to Rome, on set purpose spitefully to work him displeasure at home with the Senators. He followed still his wise course and proceeding, in following the enemy from place to place, camping always himself as near to Hannibal as conveniently he might, to wait on him at all assays. Which thing was as unpleasant to Hamniball his foe, as to Minutius his fellow. For he right well did know, that unless the Romans would venture battle, he could not long remain In Italy, which thing also the wise Fabius diligently heeded and noted. But now, although Fabius had saved many thousand of the Romans from the cruel slaughtering hand of Hannibal, by his great wisdom in abstaining from battle, and in daily preventing of the enemy from their purposes, which otherwise would have turned the State to great damage and peril: nevertheless it was thought at Rome that his heart failed him, and that he trifled out the time only to the intent his honour and dignity might the longer continue, and that he cared not what cost the City was at, so that he still might be in office, and live with honour. Thus by his provident wisdom and careful foresight he had gotten many enemies at Rome, and especially by the means of this young hotespur Minutius, insomuch that he departed from the camp, and went to the City to answer the overlight believing Senators, who so hardly had conceived of him. It so fortuned at that time when he was in Rome, that word was brought to the Senate from Minutius, who governed the army in the absence of Fabius, that he by his valour and policy had given Hannibal a great overthrow: which indeed was partly true, for the wily Hannibal had gotten certain knowledge by his espials, how the case stood betwixt Fabius and Minutius, and also that Fabius was now in some displeasure at Rome, by the means of Minutius their young Captain, wherefore he began to practise wholly to thrust Fabius (whom he feared) into utter hatred and displeasure with the chief Senators and governors of Rome.  
By which means the Romans (peradventure) might commit the whole army to the government of Minutius, and so displace Fabius, whose wisdom and policy always made the enemy to fear and dread him. Wherefore the subtle Hannibal knowing that already the Romans had conceived a very good opinion, and good liking of their young courageous Captain, if now therefore he should give in the absence of Fabius some small victory to Minutius, that then the Romans would be in further liking of him, insomuch that they would repose further trust in him: by which means he hoped soon to be the Lord over all Italy. With these considerations Hannibal brought forth his army, for he knew full well that Minutius would presently fight, which fell out accordingly. Hannibal had in that fight slain six thousand men, and so gave ground and retired into his Camp, before the fierce pursuing Minutius. Notwithstanding, it was no great victory to the Romans, for they lost in the same fight five thousand. But Minutius being right joyful of this his good fortune, forthwith sent vaunting word thereof to Rome, that they might perceive, this he had done in the absence of Fabius, and greater exploits he would have done, if he had not been hindered heretofore by the slackness of Fabius. By means of these his boasting letters the whole City was much comforted, notwithstanding Fabius (when all the City was merry and in common joy) would neither credit the news, nor believe the letters. At the last he said; If all were true that was reported, he rather greatly feared their prosperous and fortunate adventure, than any way rejoiced therein. For he was assured of (he said) and very well knew the subtle sleights and policies of crafty Hannibal.  
For which words he was even in the Senate house among them all openly rebuked by Marcus Metellus, who said and affirmed, That he kept his Soldiers and men of war in their Camps, more like Captives and Prisoners, than men of war. And especially it was not to be suffered, that he himself (their chief governor and General) being present amongst them, would not only permit and suffer any thing to be done valiantly against the enemies, but now also being absent, held against the thing that was well done by the master of his Horsemen.  
Fabius at that time answered few words, for he thought they would be evil heard, but this he said; Whereas two years past the City had sustained great harms and losses, thorough the foolish hardiness of the desperate governors, that now he doubted not but if he might bear rule, and have his mind without controlment, he would make it evident and manifest to all men, that Fortune could little do or work against a good Captain, but that Wisdom and Reason should have the dominion over all her chances. Yet for all that, the Senate's determination at that time was, that Minutius, who had so nobly behaved himself, & governed the army in his absence, should be half ruler of the host with him, and the whole governance thereof to be parted betwixt them both. This fell out right to the expectation of Hannibal, but a heavy and lamentable hap to Fabius, who tenderly favoured the welfare of the Roman Commonwealth, and although he could very willingly have yielded and resigned up the whole army, and his authority there withal to the Romans, who had offered him this disgrace, yet notwithstanding, the dutiful care which he had over his country, and the present peril which he saw the whole army to stand in, caused him to take and accept the half, hoping to preserve them at the least. But Minutius perceiving himself to be had in such estimation at Rome, as well of the common people, as of the Senators themselves, wherefore he was not a little proud, he then began to take much more on him, proudly boasting and vaunting on himself, saying; That in their great heaviness and calamity, he alone was found out a Captain able to match with courageous Hannibal. Now fell Quintus Fabius and Minutius to conference about the government of the army committed to both their charges. 
Q Fabius  Minutius would have it so parted, that he might bear rule one day or one week, and then Fabius to take place the like time accordingly. But this order liked not Fabius, for that he knew how the sequel would fall out, which he might easily conjecture by the unequality which was betwixt wilful Minutius & wily Hannibal, therefore Fabius would needs have it divided between them, saying; That if in case he could not by his counsel save the whole host, yet he would assay to save and preserve half thereof as well as he might. Minutius possessing half the Army according to their agreement, disdained to Camp near to the Camp of his fellow Fabius: but Fabius although he made as light account of Minutius, yet notwithstanding he always carried a vigilant eye whereabout his rash fellow went, that he might be ready if need should be, for he thought he would soon need his help, (which forthwith accordingly fell out) for Hamniball being thoroughly certified of these things, presently conceived a double joy; one was, for that he thought to vanquish the foolish hardiness of Minutius, even as he would himself; the other was, for that half the power and strength of Fabius was minished, by reason of parting the host. Wherefore he neglected no time to entrap and ensnare this over venturous Youth, who had been fleshed before with a final victory; knowing that he could no sooner offer, but Minutius would he ready to attempt. Whereupon, when he thought that Fabius had been far enough from his fellow, so that he could not aid him on the sudden, he trained forth to battle the rash and desperate youth, compassing him round about in places of great disadvantage to the Romans, minding there to give an utter overthrow to Minutius, (which indeed he had done, if present succour had not been.) Now Minutius seeing himself in great danger, thinking it unpossible that he should scape that present peril; also, seeing his men slain on every side, so that the field was utterly lost on his part, had not this happy chance happened, as followeth; Fabius was not so much displeased with the overthwart dealing of Minutius, but that he carried a watchful care to the welfare of his Country: for when he espied his fellow and the Romans in such danger and distress, he said; Fortune hath caught their follieno sooner than I feared she would; now he that is joined with Fabius in the Empire, hath found Hannibal overhard for him both in power and also in fortune: but it is not now time (said he) to chide, I will refer that till more opportunity. Then presently caused he his men to display his Banners behind a hill (for neither his fellows nor the Carthaginians deemed that he had been so near them) coming suddenly to the aid of his despairing fellow and the Romans, whereof some were fled, some slain, and other some flying to save themselves, in great distress; so that they all thought he came as it were a man sent from heaven to their succours: and before he could join battle with the Carthaginians, Hannibal called back his men from chase any further the enemy that fled, being so afraid at the present approaching of Fabius. Insomuch that he suddenly withdrew himself into his Camp, saying; That he had overcome Minutius, but that he was also overcome by Fabius. Then some of the dispersed Romans run to the camp of Fabius, and the rest that fled before went to Minutius, where the remnant of the discomfited succours were. Thus when the wilful Minutius had seen himself so deceived by the flights of Hannibal, & tried the friendly succour of his fellow (whom by all means he had sought to discredit,) he called the remainder of his host about him, saying; I oftentimes, loving soldiers and friends, have heard say, that he is most wise that can give good counsel, and tell what is to be done in weighty causes; and that he is next wise, that can obey him that giveth good counsel: but he that can neither give good counsel himself, nor hearken to the grave advice of the wise, is of all other most foolish; now therefore, seeing that the first of these gifts fortune hath denied us, let us keep the second, and while we learn to rule, let us also purpose with ourselves to obey them that be wise. Wherefore I pray you, let us now (though too late) join our tents with Fabius, & when you hear me salute him as my father, salute you his soldiers likewise as your noble patrons, by whose strength and hardiness this day ye are preserved. Incontinently, they removed to the Camp of Fabius, whereat he marveled not a little: now when their legions were met together, and salutations had, after long protestation made by Minutius to Fabius, they took either other by the hand, & the soldiers of either doing the like, Minutius submitted himself, and all the authority of the Empire (which was committed to him by the Senators) into the hands of Fabius, as a man far more worthy thereof, accounting it rather a burden to himself than honour: desiring Fabius that he might be in the office of the master of the horsemen, as before he was. When this was known at Rome, and affirmed to be true, not only by the letters of the Captains, but also by the reports of the soldiers of both parties, the praise of Fabius was extolled to the very heavens, repenting their hard opinion which they had conceived against him before, confessing openly that they had greatly abused him, in rejecting and condemning his wise and approved counsel so foolishly, whose words they had found to be too true, wishing that they had been ruled by so grave and wise a counsellor, now submitting themselves as it were at his feet, requiring him to defend their Country by his approved policy and wisdom in so perilous a time, and against so dangerous a foe as Hannibal was: but first they felt their own folly, before they would give any credit or audience to the admonition of the wise. Not long after, Paulus Aemilius was chosen Consul, and was to fight against Hannibal: but before he departed the Senate, Fabius made an Oration unto him, in the conclusion whereof, he said thus to the new chosen Consul; Paulus, if thou do any thing, do it soberly & according to reason, not rashly trusting to fortune: follow not the occasion that thy enemy will give thee, neither be too hasty; for haste is blind, and worketh unsurely. Notwithstanding, Aemilius at that time gave little heed to the wise precepts of the grave Fabius, saying (for a fashion sake) Indeed they were more true, than easy to be followed. At the last, this Paulus Aemilius was overthrown at the great fight of Cannae, where he lost all his power, and was himself sore wounded, whereof he soon died. But before he ended his life, C. Cornelius (a noble Roman) had found him out in the field being half covered with blood: who forthwith required him if he felt any hope of life, to amount himself, and departed the field, and not to make the battle more doleful by the death of a Consul. To whom Paulus made this answer; C. Cornelius, be thou increased in virtue, but beware least while thou bewail this chance, thou have small time to escape thyself: go thou therefore to the City, and bid the Senate, that they make strong their walls before this Conqueror come unto them: and secretly advertise Quintus Fabius, that Paulus Aemilius doth firmly remember his friendly precepts and wise admonitions, yea and liveth in them, and finally dieth in them. Wherewithal he presently died by reason of his mortal wound.  
Wherefore it was well known, that if the Romans at the first had been directed by the prudent counsel of wise Fabius, they had never tasted of so many calamities and miseries as happened to their distressed State: but their wilfulness would not be warned before experience had sharply corrected their folly. In like manner, what blame did Cassandra daughter to Priamus' king of Troy purchase, 
Dictys Cretensis lib. 3. & Dares Phrigius. li. 1.  when first her over wild Brother went to Greece to fetch by stealth fair Helen away, the wife of R. Menelaus: for she mainly cried out and prophesied, saying; Why ye Troyans, will ye suffer my brother Paris to go fetch fire in Greece to burn the stately town of Troy: think ye that the Greeks' will digest so proud an injury, O ye foolish Trojans. And again, when he returned from Greece to Troy with his desired prey, she with might and main cried, Away with Helen, away again with Menelaus' wife: for she smelleth of the Grecian fire that for her cause shall destroy the city of my father: me think I see for her sake, my aged sire slain, and the City of Troy to flow with Phrygian blood, with heaps of the slain Trojans lying in the streets, for defending her unjust quarrel. Therefore saith she, away with this fire spark, lest it consume our town, and make desolate our stately buildings. Whereat the blind Trojans laughed, saying, What, is Cassandra mad? knoweth she what she saith? are not the Trojans able to resist the pride of Greece? Let them pick what quarrel they will, we have the beautiful Helen within our walls, and will keep her in the despite of the proud Greeks', betid what may or will. Thus was Cassandra openly blamed both of her brother, and also of the whole Citizens for her wise counsel, when she most rightly had prophesied. For not long after, the Greeks loathing to suffer the Trojans so to abuse them, in detaining King Menelaus wife, came with a mighty and huge army, and besieged their City, and in time took it, slaying the people, and utterly defacing Troy with fire: so that the stateliest City of the world, lay flat on the ground. Then could the Trojans say, O Cassandra, rightly hast thou said, we find thy words most true, but we despised thy admonitions, and rejected thy friendly warnings: therefore is now this plague justly fallen on us. But then as the old saying is, Serò sapiunt Phryges', they bethought themselves too late: being mad themselves with pride, when first they thought Cassandra mad with folly. Thus somewhat digressing though not altogether from our purpose, in making manifest what the vainglorious and wilful persons gain in the end, by not hearkening to the grave advice & wise counsel of the prudent, but contemning and rejecting the friendly warnings of those, who before have tried the mutability of unfriendly Fortune, until such time that experience hath caught their folly. But now again to our purposed proceedings. Hath it not been seen that the stately pride and lofty lordliness of divers, hath purchased to others great quietness? Is it not sufficiently known, that before this last war betwixt the Carthaginians & the Romans, there was an ancient peace and league taken and agreed upon betwixt them, dividing their Empires with the river of Iberius, and that their two Segniories should jointly be known the one from the other; for that the haughty pride and lofty stateliness of them both, could not brook the controlment each of other: therefore they thus divided their Empires, not tolerating the imperial minds of each other, because they were both a strong and mighty people, still contending until that agreement, which of them both should enjoy & possess the whole. This at that time happened through the stately pride of them both; There were a people, namely the Saguntines, who dwelled betwixt both their Empires, and divided their Segniories in equal sort; which people before were under the obedience of the Romans: but now in great controversy which of those stately Empires should enjoy and possess them, for that it did lie so convenient for them both. Thus after long contending, when neither party would yield that the other should enjoy it, at the last this was agreed upon betwixt them both; that the Saguntines lying so in the middle, should be a border and bank to both their Empires, remaining a tree people, at liberty from both their powers, neither of them meddling with the government of their Common wealth, nor troubling their Country in respect, upon pain of the breach of ancient amity: but should let them wholly alone to their own rule and government. 
Pol. lib. 2.  Thus was Sagunt freed from her proud neighbours, who for a long time had kept her under subjection and servitude, by reason of their imperial minds, and now again through their stately pride set at liberty and freed from such slavery, as before they were holden in. In like case, when the Athenians and Megarences had many times fought together in divers most cruel and bloody battles for the superiority and regiment of the Isle Salamina: having on both parts well tired themselves with the daily slaughters and lamentable losses of their people: in the end, being so wearied with the calamities of war, they were willing on either sior to constitute and ordain a law, that none under pain of death should dare (on either part) to speak or move war against Salamina, but that it should be at free liberty from them both. 
Diodorus Siculus libro 7  Did not Ptolemy King of Egypt, and Antigone Prince of the Phrygians, so malice and contemn one the other, that to despite and displease each other, they restored to liberty many Cities of Greece, which were quietly possessed by them before: so that the Grecians although for a time they were restrained from their liberty, yet notwithstanding they were in the end again clearly freed from such servitude, by the malicious and proud contending of those Imperial minded Princes. Now whereas our purpose is to show the inconveniences of cruel war, rather commending the peaceable and quiet state of the weal public, than the bitterness of war and bloody fight; neither is my intent so to dissuade a Common wealth from the provision of war, that in time of need they should altogether be destitute of armour, men & weapon, to beat down and keep back the proud invading foe, but rather exhorting & earnestly wishing them to use and practise all manner of commendable actions in military and martial affairs, to become both expert and skilful in warlike prowess, only to the end to defend their own quiet and well governed Common wealth: but forasmuch as the hazard of battle and the stay whereon the whole state dependeth, ought not to be given and yielded into the hands of such desperate youths, such fresh water soldiers, and such proud minded perfons, as will neither hear any friendly counsel, wise advice, nor sage warning, of him who hath been before taught by experience; but will with an overrash and unbridled self will (as they say) with a flantarowe & all a bravado, run headlong without any good or government, hazarding the spoil of their soldiers, jeoparding the subversion of a Kingdom, venturing the whole state to them committed in one hour, to the mutable and unsteadfast chance of frowning Fortune. There (I say) is to be expected as great calamity, as Minutius brought to the Romans, Hannibal to the Carthaginians, and Paris to the Troyans', who by their wilful follies wrought great misery to their Countries: neither is the Enemy to be repelled, nor battle to be provided for, with superfluous and excessive bravery, as though they would contend with feathers, scarves, trim knacks, and such other painted and gilded stuff, hoping to daunt and fear the foe with such vain toys: Nay surely, it doth incoruage the Enemy, hoping to recover that rich prey & spoil: persuading themselves that such vain pride proceedeth from a fond and foolish wit, through which conceit, the enemy is the more better stirred to battle. It may be, that some will object this, saying; It is not wisdom nor by any means tolerable, to dissuade the young soldier from that which doth increase his courage, more willingly to follow martial feats, and warlike affairs, saying also, it is for the honour of his Country to come to the field like a brave soldier, meaning by his outward brave attire, gorgeous furniture, and other their ordinary bravery by them used?  
Whereunto I answer after this manner. Hannibal, after he had contended in sharp and mortal wars long time against the Romans, and was in conclusion beaten out of Italy by the prudence of the valiant Scipio, he fled to King Antiochus, who at that time had gathered a great power to war on the Romans. The Army being in a readiness, Antiochus called the wife and politic Captain Hannibal to the top of a very high hill, showing him all his whole power (being gathered together from all parts of his Dominions, for the same purpose) This Army was exceeding sure in the King's opinion for the Soldiers targets glittered all with Orient gold, their armours also wonderfully furnished with gold and rich pearl, to conclude every thing marvelous sumptuous and brave. 
Pol. lib. 2.   
Antiochus hereat greatly boasting said unto Hannibal; My good friend, dost thou not think this my rich and mighty Army to be enough and sufficient for the proud Romans? Who presently fell into a great laughter, laughing Antiochus to scorn for his superfluous vanity, and foolish folly, saving in slouting sort, 
Responsio Hannibalis Antiocho.  Yes truly Antiochus, although the Romans were the most unsatiable people, and discontented Nation of the world. Meaning that their rich booties and spoils would be sufficient and enough again for the Romans, knowing notwithstanding that their power would prove small enough to match with them, for that he himself before had well tried and felt their force and strength in war. Therefore I say, that may not be allowed to encourage the soldiers, which the world may laugh to scorn: the soldier doth get more glory to his Country and greater praise to himself through his victorious conquest, than by his ridiculous and superfluous bravery. Wherefore in my judgement it were far more necessary, that what cost and charge were bestowed in time of war, should only be to the preservation of both Common wealth and soldier, which cannot be so well defended with vain toys, as with good and warlike furniture. What was the cause that Alexander the great, with so small a number of men, subdued and conquered such a great part of the world? Was it through the youthfulness of his Captains and bravery of his soldiers? No truly, but it came to pass by their brave minds and ableness of body, who had hardened themselves to the war of purpose; and not through their nice bravery in apparel. For when Alexander first set forth to such a mighty enterprise, his Army was but 32000. footmen, 
justinus libro 10.  and 4500. horsemen: which was miraculous, that so small a handful of men should do such mighty exploits, and go through so many strong Nations unconquered. The cause why is easily conjectured: for that Alexander always had this provident care and foresight in placing officers in his Army; insomuch that he by no means would admit or suffer any one, to bear rule as a Captain or Leader in his Army, unless he were well known to be a man of great gravity, wisdom, policy, and good government: provided always, that he should be a man of the age of 60. years, to the intent he might have all these aforesaid qualities the better: and also, 
Ordines quoque nemo nisi sexagenarius duxit.  that no common soldier should be admitted into the host, unless he were thirty years old at the least, which was especially to this end, that he might have both wise leaders, and valiant soldiers, joining both policy and force together. Did not he in the wars betwixt him and Darius do mighty and invincible exploits by the wise and circumspect guiding of his small army: For in the first battle betwixt them, Darius lost the field, and had his great army put to flight and slain, which was six hundred thousand strong fight men in the fields of Adrastis, 
Diodorus resert.  where Alexander lost but nine footmen, and an hundred horsemen: and in the second fight betwixt them, Darius led forth against Alexander three hundred thousand footmen, and of horsemen an hundred thousand, in which conflict the Macedonians slew of the Persians one and forty thousand footmen, and of horsemen ten thousand, and took prisoners forty thousand, there were slain of the Macedonians a hundred and thirty footmen, 
Sic Quintus Curtius scribit.  of horsemen a hundred and fifty. Also in the last fight when Alexander won the whole Empire of Persia, Darius brought into the field against him four hundred thousand footmen, and a hundred thousand horsemen which were in this last fight utterly subdued and overthrown by the wonderful policy of the circumspect Alexander. In like sort the Greeks', when Xerxes' King of Persia invaded them with seven hundred thousand of his own people, 
justin. lib. 2  and three hundred thousand strange soldiers, and had on the sea a most mighty and invincible navy of ships; by their wise and careful government in leading their small host, put the mighty Xerxes to flight and all his huge army, causing him to flee privily and unknown, in a small fisher boat home to his country again, to save his life, to his great reproach and infamy, and to their perpetual praise and glory. 
Plu. de Antiocho.  Also Machabaeus, the first of that name, with three thousand men overcame and utterly subdued Lysias the Lieutenant of Antiochus, with forty thousand footmen and six thousand horsemen, which happened thorough the the circumspect guiding and careful leading of so small a power, and not by his rash wilfulness and unadvised venturing, therefore these examples do partly purport unto us, that the hope and hazard of battle doth wholly consist and depend in the careful placing of Officers in the army, knowing the captains to be men of experience, and grave in wisdom, the Soldiers at man's estate, with modest government expelling out of the army all riotous drunkards, lewd companions, disordered fellows, breeders of quarrels and dissension, being prone and apt to move uproars, mutinies, rebellions, disobeying their Captains and leaders, to the whole subversion and clear overthrow of the host: for, whereas either the army is governed by a drunken disordered Captain, or the Captain troubled with a band or crew of disordered drunkards, there can neither any good exploit go forward, nor any happy event be hoped after, the learned wise Erasmus saith: Citius enim ex pumice aquam hauseris, quam ebrio, sobrium aut dictum aut factum extorseris. For a man may sooner (saith he) draw water out of a hard stone, than to wrest from a drunken man either any sober saying or sober deed. And whereas rashness is, there temperance wanteth, and therefore whatsoever happeneth by such unadvised wilfulness, cannot be accounted to chance through valour, courageous minds, valiant manliness, and such like, but rather by desperate madness, wilful foolishness, and such like overrash attempts, as commonly hath more oftener bad success than happy event. Alexander, as doth appear in these former examples, doth rather tolerate a young soldier, than a young Captain, for that the Macedonian Captains were three score, and the Soldiers but thirty, because the leader should be able both in gravity, policy and wise government with experience, to direct and guide the Soldier, and the Soldier also by those manly years be able to abide the brunt and calamity of war the better, and all boyish toys, and wilful rashness being laid apart, shall be better furnished to obey his Captain and leader. Yet notwithstanding, I do not say, that grave wisdom, wise policy, 
Laertius lib. 7.  sage government and provident foresight, wholly consisteth and dependeth in grey hairs, for than it might well be objected to me, as it was to the old Emperor of Greece. Who when the States of Athens had picked out certain of the most wisest men of their City, and sent them as Ambassadors to him, to treat of certain causes of their common wealth: but the old doting Emperor, hearing that the Athenians which were come, were young men of middle years, and not grave and old fathers, refused to confer with them about their message, not suffering them to be brought unto his presence, nothing at all considering on the matter, whether they were wise or no. But by no means he would hear them, by reason of their years, yet he full well knew, that they were the most wisest that the Athenians could find out, notwithstanding upon their earnest intercession to have access to his presence, he always returned this answer, saying, That he would not confer with such unwise beardless boys, who by outward view had but small experience; Condemning them by his doting judgement before he had made trial of their wisdom. But the wise Athenians seeing the blind conceit of the old Emperor, feigned, that they would not at all speak any thing of their message, if it would please the Emperor but to do them this favour, as to suffer them for to come into his presence to behold his person, of whom they had before time so often heard, they would think their pains right well bestowed, although they had no answer at all of their ambassade. Unto which request the old Emperor soon granted, sitting in great majesty for the Athenians to behold him. Thus when they were brought before him, they began after this manner to flow the old doting Emperor for his rash judgement, saying, Most renowned sir, if the states of Athens, 
Plus menti, quam mentis.  had thought that wisdom had consisted in grey beards and whitish hairs, they (no doubt) would have sent for Ambassadors to you grey bearded Bucks and Goats, and detained those in Athens still, whose approved wisdom hath as well been tried at home in Athens, as also in thy countries of Greece, O thou aged Emperor.  
Wherefore, as I have said, not altogether condemning young men as unsufficient for to have any rule or charge committed to them by reason of their young years, for that oftentimes we see vain folly to be covered and shadowed with grey hairs, & also wisdom to spring and proceed from beardless cheeks. Yet truly, in mine opinion, grave years is partly a sign that all youthful folly, wilful rashness, and childish government, is well overpassed and laid aside, so no doubt but that there are divers young Gentlemen of sufficient experience, gravity and wisdom, to take charge and authority in an army: notwithstanding it is necessary, that both their lives, manners, conversation and usual dealings be thoroughly looked into, before they have any charge committed to them, to the end, they may be the better able to punish vice, execute true justice, and rule with good government in the army, for no remedy but that there must be sharp punishment, severe justice, and martial law, in such a multitude of people, to correct the malefactor and lewd fellow without partiality for example sake, and to cherish the honest, true, and painful soldier, with friendly and good usage, to encourage others to live in the army accordingly. The ancient Romans did always use sharply to punish and correct the intolerable abuses committed in the host, 
Poli. lib. 6. Furti poena in castris Roman.  for whosoever had stolen, purloined, or filched from his fellow any of his goods, furniture, or other necessaries, which thing being openly proved by some honest witness, the offendor was presently judged to die without partiality in this sort; the party being lawfully condemned by the Tribune, he brought forth a club, and therewithal striketh the offendor, not hurting the party himself, but as it were in token of lawful conviction and guiltiness. Which, when the Tribune had done, the whole army and company with great fury do strike and lay on with clubs, slaves and stones, until they have utterly slain and dismembered the offendor: and if that in the whole Camp there be any found that refuse, or would not put too his helping hand so to punish vice in the malefactor, after the Tribune had stricken him with his club, such persons for their so refusing, were judged as aiders and maintainers of such disordered fellows, so that they ever after were forbidden on pain of death, not to return into their country any more, to their parents, wives or children, being also unlawful for them to crave or demand any necessaries out of their country for their maintenance in other places. The Romans also punished with death him that lacked in the watch, he that forsook the place that was given him to fight, he that carried any trifle hid out of the camp, if any man should say he had done some worthy thing in fight, and had not done it, if any for fear had cast away his weapon: and when it happened that a Legion had committed the like fault, because they would not put all to death, their names were taken, and put together in a bag, and so by lot they drew out the tenth person, and put those to death. And again for lesser faults which deserved not death, they sharply punished by whip, continual standing, appointed fastings, and such other pains which they provided for that purpose. But the good and honest Soldier was courteously entertained, gently used, and much made of, lacking nothing that appertained necessary to men: whereby it appeareth, that the honest Soldier is friendly to be cherished, and the lewd and disordered sharply to be punished. Which order in every host is carefully to be observed and kept, and used with great discretion and good government by the wise Captain. But now it may be objected concerning the hardiness of young Captains, saying; Have we not known or heard of such lusty young Gentlemen, or youthful Captains, who by their valiant prows, and courageous minds, have bravely and desperately set upon such a strong Castle, Town, or Fort, and being as eager on the enemy as a hawk on her pray, have achieved most wonderful & notable exploits by their lusty brave courages. And therefore, say ye, what are young Captains to be disallowed, & not worthy to bear charge? Whereunto I answer, that although some brave Gentleman, or youthful Captain, have by his desperate boldness, or over hardy valour obtained or achieved some notable victory or great exploit, to the great glory and fame both of his Country and himself, yet for all that, it is commonly no consequent, that victory followeth desperate boldness, nor conquest rash hardiness. For although that Fortune at some one time doth favour rash attempts, yet presume not over much on her, for she is mutable and unsteadfast, lest that subtle Hannibal may ensnare wilful Minutius: Achilles desperate Troilus: and circumspect Themistocles entrap unadvised Xerxes: Paulus Aemilius, a noble State of Rome, was always wont to say when Fortune favoured and smiled most of all on him, 
Liu li 7. & Val. li. 3  that then he mistrusted and feared her mutability most of all. Insomuch that when he triumphed in the City of Rome for certain noble actions by him most happily achieved, seeing the people so wonderfully praise and extol his name, clapping of their hands, flinging up their caps, and honouring him in such majestical sort, seeing Fortune so sweetly smile and favour him, after such an extraordinary manner, he turned to the people, and said with a lamentable voice, I greatly sear me lest that Fortune doth mean highly to displease and disquiet me after this her unaccustomed flattery. Which indeed fell out accordingly. For the same time returning to his own house, in this most sumptuous manner, he found his sweet sons suddenly dead. The wise and learned Cicero, thoroughly perceiving the uncertainty and mutable estate of unfriendly fortune, seeing likewise by his provident wisdom, how much more prudent counsel and wise government availeth, than force and strength of the body, was not ashamed boldly to pronounce and declare in his own behalf, saying; Plus ego togatus, quàm armati decem. I did (saith he) more by my counsel in the Senate, than ten armed men in the field. 
Cicero in Offic.  And in maintaining of his argument he further said; Dux Agamemnon Greciae nunquam optat, ut Aiacis similes decem habeat, at ut Nestoris quandoque. We never read (saith he) that Agamemnon the chief ringleader and Captain of the Greeks', did ever wish that he had ten strong and forcible men like to Ajax, but sometime he would wish that he had ten prudent and wise Counsellors like to provident Nestor. And according to the opinion of learned Cicero, provident wisdom, and circumspect carefulness is rather to be expected in grave and aged years, than in green and youthful heads. For in his book de Senectute he doth allege these authorities, 
Cicero de Senectute.  Apud Lacedemonios quidem ij, qui amplissimum magistratum gerunt, ut sunt, sic etiam nominantur senes. Amongst the ancient Lacedæmonians (saith he) those which did bear any high authority, were called aged Fathers, as indeed they were, otherwise they could not be admitted to such offices. And again upon the same occasion he saith thus; Quod silegere aut audire voletis externa, maximas respublicas ab adolescentibus labefactatas, a senibus sustentatas reperietis. If (saith he) either ye will read or hear outward and foreign examples, ye shall find that great commonwealths and mighty Kingdoms have fallen and decayed thorough young men's government, and again how they have been upholden and maintained by the grave, government of old men. 
Val. li. 5.  When the Romans were thoroughly wearied by the wilful rawness of their youthful Captains, buying experience (by their daily sufferance) with extreme losses, and lamentable slaughters of their people, then in the end, for redress thereof, they all with one consent constituted and made a decree, that if any Captain or Leader in time of war, should unadvisedly or suddenly set on the enemy, without the consent or appointment of the Centurion or Captain general, yea although he utterly vanquished and overthrew the adversary: yet notwithstanding, his over rash attempt and wilful boldness should as grievously be punished, as if he had been enemy to his country, for that Fortune might as well have caught their folly, as favoured their rash enterprise. Pap. Curtius being Dictator, commanded that F. Rutilius master of his horsemen should be beaten with rods, & after beheaded, for fight against his commandment, though he had the victory. Neither would Papirius forgive the punishment at the intercession of the Soldiers: and when as he Head to Rome, he also pursued him, neither would he there remit the dreadful punishment, until that Fabius and his father fell down on their knees, and that also the Senate and people made intercession for him. Manlius caused his son, (which against his commandment had fought with his enemy that had challenged him, though he got the victory) to be beaten with rods, and have his head stricken of. Thus the Romans prevented many miseries, which otherwise might have happened to their common sorrow & heaviness. I would not it should be thought I altogether disallow young captains, condenming them all with unadvised judgement (as the Emperor of Greece did the young ambassadors of Athens) to be either rash, wilful, or foolish hardy, or void of any good government: for than should I speak fond and unadvisedly, in over rashly condemning their secret & unknown qualities. When divers of the aged Consuls & grave leaders, 
Poll. li. 7.  with other worthy Captains of great experience of Rome, were slain in the Carthaginian war, and that the whole Roman Empire did shake for fear, having none left alive unto whom they might trust in this perilous war to fight against so subtle and crafty a foe as Hannibal was, who before had slain such a mighty number of their worthy men. Thus being in such perplexity, lamenting sore their distressed state, and fearing the present subversion of their City, then in this their great extremity, young P. Cornelius Scipio, the son of that Scipio which before was slain in Spain in the same war by the Carthaginians, being but three and twenty years old, earnestly craved of the Senate that he might have the office and authority to fight against wily Hannibal, who had done them such high displeasure, and made their whole state so pensive and sad, not doubting but to be revenged on their enemies for their forepast cruelty. But the distressed Romans seeing the tender years of the young Gentleman, were doubtful to commit such a weighty cause into his hand, some of them speaking against his years, as a man not allowable in such extremity: and again some for that his father and uncle were both slain in the same war, wherefore, said they, it is greatly to be feared, considering his youthful years, and also the death of his Father, lest that he should be over rash in seeking speedy revenge, to his own peril, and their loss. Notwithstanding, the grave Senators wisely considering on the cause, seeing the willingness of the young man, and his witty Oration uttered there before them all, at the same time, committed their whole state into his hand, who governed it with such wise policy, and careful foresight, that he did not only match the worthy Hannibal, but also drove him out of Italy & Spain, who before had viewed the Roman walls, minding forthwith to have taken their city, forcing him also to fly into his country of Africa, and at the last home to the very walls of Carthage, where he utterly vanquished him, seizing on the whole Empire of Carthage, to the use of the Romans. Thus when the grave and valiant captains were some slain, some put to flight, and other some not daring to encounter with such a victorious Captain as Hannibal was, the young Scipio by his manly valour, wise policy and circumspect leading of his army, both freed his Country from such a perilous enemy, and also made the stately Empire of Carthage subject to the Romans, to the great glory and renown of his Country, and to the everlasting remembrance of his name. In like sort, Alexander the great, the most famous Captain and leader that ever lived, was but twenty years old when he overthrew most mighty Kings and strong Princes, with a very small number; therefore wisdom and policy consisteth not in grey hairs, nor victory altogether dependeth in old age, notwithstanding youth ought to have a special care to ground all their actions upon temperance, with an open ear to sage advise and wise counsel, and then, no doubt, victory will not altogether consist and depend on fickle fortune. But before I proceed any further to show the calamities and miseries of ruinous war, it shall not seem amiss to show what subtle sleights, wise policies, and cunning Stratagems have been in ancient time used, to delude and mock the enemy withal, being also things very necessary, diligently to be noted in these our troublesome days.  

Certain Stratagems, and politic practices of worthy warriors, and expert soldiers.  
BY as Priennius, 
Vt Diodorus resert.  when the City of Priennia was besieged by the mighty Aliattes, used this Stratagem or policy; when the town could not hold out any longer for want of victual for their men, and forage for their horses, he turned out of the City into the enemies Camp certain horses and mules which were wonderful fat, for they were for the nonce fed for that purpose, whereby the enemy might think, and know, that they in the town had sufficient forage & provender for their horses, insomuch, that when Aliattes the Captain of the enemy did see this, he thought indeed, that the citizens had plenty of all things, sending a spy privily into the City to view their ability in all respects. Which when Bias had intelligence of, he caused great heaps of sand to be piled up together, and poured thereon wheat and other grain to make a show of plenty, giving further commandment, that no man should trouble or molest the spy, nor make as once they suspected him, but let him have liberty to pass & repass at his pleasure; the spy having well viewed all things, soon returned to his Captain, showing him of their great plenty and abundance of all things; which so soon as Aliattes heard, he presently removed his siege and departed, thinking it a thing unpossible to get the town before their victual failed, knowing, that he should want for his company before those heaps of corn were spent in the City, therefore he with speed marched from the town, which in short time might have been taken by reason of the great scarcity in the City, for the people died very fast by famine, crying out daily to Priennius to yield the City and save their lives, but by this subtle policy they were clearly freed, to the wonderful joy of the distressed Citizens. Also when Quin. Fabius Maximus, 
Poli. lib. 8  had wisely enclosed the wily Hannibal within the straits of 
* Falernia.  Formiana keeping the mouth of the straight passages so surely, that Hannibal could not pass out, the country also being stony and barren not able to relieve his army long, fearing lest that if he should spend that provision which he had already, he might perish with the whole host before he could get any more in that place, Hannibal seeing himself in such extremity, knowing that he could not give battle to the Romans without hazarding his whole power, for that their enemies lay so strongly on the hill tops, being so well backed with fresh supplies if occasion served, wherefore he was forced to use this slight and mockery to beguile and deceive the Romans, having gathered a great quantity of dry rotten sticks with rubbish thorns, and such other stuff fit for his purpose, commanding his men to fetch into the camp so privily as they could, that the enemy might not perceive whereabout they went, 
Stratagema contra Romanos.  all the oxen and lusty beasts that they could find. Now having brought into their camp the number of two thousand lusty beasts, they with speed fastened unto their horns the aforesaid dry sticks, keeping them privily until the dark night, so that their invention by no means might be espied, being once very dark, he caused his army to be in a readiness, marching circumspectly up toward the straits which were strongly kept by the Romans, making as little noise as they could; being come near where the enemy lay, he caused those faggots which were on the ox horns to be set on fire, still driving them before towards the strait, which fire so mightily increased by the swift running of the beasts, for feeling the heat to come so near the quick, they ran forward as if they had been stark mad, puffing & blowing, making such a noise, flinging and tossing the flame and sparks, after a most terrible manner, so that it was a wonderful strange and fearful sight. The frighted Romans beholding such a miraculous wonder, being much amazed on the sudden, for that they suspected no such Stratagem, began to bussel & run for fear, because that horrible sight came still furiously on them, insomuch, that they were dispersed & scattered abroad by the great fright & fear thereof, leaving the narrow places wide open without any force or guard at all, so that Hannibal coming after in good order, did with great ease pass thorough without any resistance; which when the Romans perceived, they could in no case pursue him, for that their men were so disordered, by running away: thus at last (but too late) they knew how they were deluded and mocked by the craft of wily Hannibal. Also Hannibal used this policy to bring the wise Captain Q. Fabius Maximus, in mistrust with the Romans, for that he perceived the soberness of Fabius, did much endamage him, who before had tired and wearied him with dalliance, committing nothing over rashly to fortune; which wise dealing of Fabius, seemed to Hannibal displeasant & altogether repugnant to his nature: wherefore at such time as he knew very well the Romans did bear no great good liking to Fabius, by reason of the overthrow which Minutius had given to Hannibal in his absence, knowing also that he was openly condemned in the Senate, either that he durst not fight with Hannibal, 
Stratagema Hannibalis in Fabi.  or else that he did bear goodwill and favour to the Carthaginians, and therefore to bring him in further cause of mistrust with the Romans, that also the Senate might easily think there were some conspiracy or confederacy betwixt him & Hannibal, he used this crafty practice, sending out a great number of soldiers to spoil & rob the Country of Italy in divers places, straightly commanding them, that they should spare and not once touch the goods, chattles and lands which were known to be the possessions of Fabius, but spoiling and wasting round about them, they should leave them whole unminished, to the end, that the Romans should conceive such displeasure against him, as that they might in no case permit or suffer him to deal in their affairs, which thing would been most pleasant to Hannibal. And surely, this subtle practice, sounded much to the discredit of Fabius; and had taken further effect, if he by his wise policy had not somewhat qualified their hard conceit by this means, presently thereupon he sent his son into the country to sell & make away those lands and goods which Hannibal had spared, for little or nothing, despising to possess any thing which Hannibal preserved; which deed made the Romans somewhat better to think of him. Notwithstanding, though Hannibal was the wisest captain that in those days lived, mocking and deceiving the Romans at his pleasure, yet in the end, he himself was kindly flouted by a Roman Captain, suspecting no stratagem or policy at all to be practised, insomuch, that on a time when he had long besieged the great city Cassilinum, & could by no means take the Town, he assayed to famish them & make the city perforce yield to his mercy, not suffering any necessaries to be brought them. Gracchus then captain of a band of Romans which lay thereabout, waiting if Hannibal would remove his siege, seeing what great extremity they suffered, receiving letters daily from them, which signified in what lamentable case they stood and what mortality was in the city, for want of sustenance, so that they were feign to eat their boots and other straps and thongs of leather, being much moved with these great miseries, & also seeing the Citizens to stand on the walls, to the end, that some dart, shot, or other weapon might abridge and shorten their grief; yet for all this he might not fight with Hannibal, although he surely thought he might with ease have rescued the Town, for that he was commanded to the contrary by the dictator, now seeing the City in such distress, and that he might not fight for their succours, he gathered certain corn, and put it into barrels and hogsheads, sending privy word to the town, that the next night he would send them down the river with the tide, willing them to be ready to receive the barrels as they came, for the river came close to their city. Thus at divers times he beguiled Hannibal, until at last the craft was bewrayed, and then again the city disappointed of victual. Which when the cownesmen perceived, they then had no other shift, but secretly to steal out of the town, and get grass and roots such as they could find, and bring it in for their relief. Which Hannibal had soon espied, therefore he caused the ground thereabout to be ploughed up, to prevent them of that hope also. Then the Citizens seeing there was no way to hold the town, and save their lives from the fury of the enemy, sent word to Gracchus, that they perforce must yield the city to Hannibal. Whereat Gracchus seeing their great necessity, requested them to have patience yet for two or three days, also showing them, that it in case they would follow his his advice and counsel, he doubted not but shortly to free their city, and set them at liberty, willing them to take parsnipseede and sow it on the ploughed ground without the City, defending themselves manfully for that time if need should be. They all being willing to try what effect this could work, sowed a great quantity of parsnipseede on the ground which was ploughed up about the city. Of which thing when Hannibal was advertised, he forthwith removed his siege, and departed from the town, saying; What, shall I stay here until these seeds be roots, that will I not for ten such Cities as Cassilinum is. Thinking that they had sufficient in the town to relieve them in the mean time, or else they would never have been so fond to sow their seed. Thus was subtle Hannibal drily flouted himself, who in semblable sort had often beguiled others: for the city could not have endured the siege four days longer at the uttermost. Young Pub. Cornelius Scipio being made somewhat wise by the subtle sleights that Hannibal had used before in Italy, remembering the crafty policy which was put in practice to bring Q. Fabius into mistrust with the Romans, by Hannibal, now in the end plagued him with such like practice. For when the Carthaginians were driven out of Italy, and lost their own Empire of Africa, and Hannibal their chief captain forced to fly to Antiochus, who then had prepared a great army to war on the Romans. At the same time this young Scipio was sent by the Senate to Antiochus, to know why he prepared himself to war on the Romans, his friends, and being there arrived, he perceived that it was much by the instigation and pricking on of Hannibal their ancient enemy, who already had gotten full grant to lead and conduct half the power of Antiochus against the Romans, both for his great wisdom, and policy and also for his approved experience, as well in the country of Italy, as of the Romans themselves. Which thing young Scipio diligently noted, fearing lest the Romans should be again troubled with such a cunning warrior and approved Captain as Hannibal was. To prevent which cause he practised this mean: He would often frequent the company of Hannibal, falling into friendly conference about the battles fought betwixt them before in Italy, and Africa, feeding and pleasing the humour of Hannibal, lest that he might lose his company, and so fail of his purpose: for his meaning was, by privy speech and communication with him, to bring Antiochus in mistrust of him, to the end he should not commit his power into his hand. Thus daily Scipio used the company of Hannibal, coming privily to his lodging, secretly talking and conferring with him, making as though Antiochus or his company should not once suspect him, wherefore he would most commonly come in the night, yet he would ever choose and pick out such a time, that he would be seen by some of Antiochus his friends, to the end the cause might the more be suspected, and also if in the day Hannibal and he had been in any conference of causes, so soon as he had espied either Antiochus himself, or any other of his friends, than he forthwith would hold his peace, & suddenly departed, as though he would not have them to hear what conference they had: which indeed was nothing but what they might have heard very well without offence.  
This invention of last fell out accordingly, and happy for the Romans, for Antiochus grew greatly to suspect their privy meetings, and secret whisperings, fearing least there were some compounded treacheries agreed upon betwixt them. And further, for that Scipio had always so praised the wisdom, policy, and circumspect carefulness of Hannibal openly, to be both the wisest captain, carefullest Leader, and valiantest man that then lived, saying; Happy were the Soldiers that marched under his conduct. Which thing Antiochus liked not well of, thinking that Scipio did it for this purpose, that he should commit his army into the hands of Hannibal, and then to be betrayed, as their secret meetings argued. Wherefore he would not that Hannibal should bear any charge of his, being so conversant with his enemy, saying he was glad he had so found out their practice, before it took effect, and that yet it rested in him to prevent their invention. By this stratagem Scipio set free the Romans from such a politic captain, that had so spoiled their country before, which otherwise by quarreliing against him, could never have been brought to pass, but would have turned the Romans to much sorrow. 
Strategem. contra Ap. Poli.  Also Hasdruball used this subtlety to escape the hands of Appius Claudius, the Roman Consal: for being environed with difficult passages, the mouth & easiest way whereof the Romans held and possessed, so that Hasdruball & his army could not escape out any way without great danger of losing his whole host. Wherefore he sent to Appius, showing him that if they could agree upon certain articles, he would be content to departed the country, and render into his hands other towns and castles which he had in keeping. Which thing pleased Claudius well, hoping to free that country without battle from so dangerous a foe. Wherefore he willingly consented to the parley, appointing time and place for their meeting, where there were books and articles drawn between them, for the assurance of both their promises. Their meeting thus continuing three or four days together, Appius Claudius suspecting no craft, for that the motion came first by Hasdruball himself, thinking that all things were plainly and simply meant, without fraud or deceit.  
Now Hasdruball in the mean time every night sent part of his army with their gross carriages, over certain strait and perilous places, which could never have been passed, if the Romans had known thereof, himself every day came forth of the Camp to meet Claudius, where they argued of weighty causes, and were at a full composition, saving that their agreements were not confirmed and sealed, which Hasdrubal shifted off in this sort, saying that he would be so bold with Claudius, as to confer with his friends the next day in his Camp, which day also, he said, was ever kept holy among the Carthaginians, and therefore he craved such like favour at the hands of Appius, with this knot also, that they might be suffered quietly to peruse and confer on those covenants & agreements, without any skirmish or battle offered for that time, promising the like for his part, that his army should neither invade the Romans, nor trouble any of their friends as that day of truce, protesting further, that the next day his determination should be plainly declared to Appius and the Romans. Now was Appius well quieted in his mind, for that he hoped every thing would effectually fall out; yet for all that, he gave no great trust to the promise of Hasdruball, for not invading his men the next day. Wherefore he caused watch and ward with good order to be kept circumspectly in his camp, to be ready if need should require. But Hasdruball minded nothing less, than to invade the camp of the Romans, but rather sought how to deliver himself and his people out of that dangerous place: therefore he neglected no time in following so weighty a cause. Insomuch, that the same night he stole out of his camp, with the rest that remained behind, as close and privily without noise as they might, aiding and helping one another over those hard passages, which was wonderful difficult to them by reason of the darkness of the night. But in the end they well escaped the danger, and were by the daylight safe enough from the Romans.  
Appius having intelligence in the morning of the escape of Hasdruball, did then presently pursue after him, but all in vain; seeing himself thus flouted by Hasdruball, than he thought full well that he might cancel the agreements, and burn the bands, repenting his folly too late in suffering his enemy so easily to scape out of such a perilous strait. L. Silla in the wars against Archelaus, Mithridates' lieutenant at Pirea, perceiving his soldiers had little courage to fight, he so wearied them with continual labour, that they were glad to desire to fight, that the wars might be ended. Also Cyrus' king of Persia in the wars betwixt him & Astyages king of the Medes, 
justin. li. ●.  minding to stir up the minds of his soldiers fiercely to give battle to their enemy, used this policy, he wearied them with painful labour all one day, in hewing down a certain wood, and on the morrow after, he made a plenteous feast for them, demanding in the feast time, which day liked them best; and when they all allowed the pastime of the day present, and yet (quoth he) this pleasure must be obtained by the other days pain, 
Plu. de 〈◊〉 Agesi.  for except ye first overcome the Medes, ye can never live in freedom and at pleasure, whereby they took great courage to fight. When Agesilaus had pitched his field not far from Orchomeno, a City that was in league with him, and perceiving that many of the army had their treasure and chief riches in the Camp, he commanded the townsmen to receive nothing into the Town belonging to his army, to the intent his Soldiers might fight the more fiercely, knowing they should fight both for their lives & goods. Gelon king of Syracuse entering war against the Persians, after he had taken many of them, brought forth the weakest and most uncomely persons naked, in the sight of all his army, to persuade them that their enemies were but wretches and men worthy to be despised. Epaminondas being ready to give battle to the Lacedæmonians, seeing the courage of his soldiers began somewhat to quail, 
Valer. sol. 257.  he used this mean to animate their minds furiously to fight, pronouncing in an oration to them, how that the Lacedæmonians had determined, if they gate the victory to slay all their men, to make their wives and children bondslaves for ever, and to beat down the City of Thebes flat to the ground. With which words the Thebans were so moved and aggrieved, that at the first brunt they overcame the Lacedæmonians. Thus we see oftentimes, that subtle policy availeth, where force and strength can hardly resist, therefore it is both convenient and necessary, that the Stratagems of war be exercised and studied against needful times, but in my opinion the force of money is great in causes of war, and winneth by corruption strong castles and invincible towns, insomuch, that the wise Erasmus seeing the wonderful force of money, so strong and available saith thus thereof, Porrò nihil est iam sanctum, quod non violari, nihil tam munitum, quodnon expugnari pecunia possit. Nothing (saith he) is so holy and sacred, but by money it may be violated, neither is any thing so strong, but by the corruption of money it may be taken and subdued. Philip king of Macedon having by practice and experience found out the unincounterable force thereof, at such time in his wars, as he minded to take a certain City perforce, it was told him, that the passage thereto was very difficult and hard, and the town by common judgement invincible. 
Dictum Philippi.  An praesidium tam esset difficile accessu, rogavit ut asinus auro onustus accedere non posset. Whereunto he demanded this, Whether or no is the way or strait so difficult in passing, that an ass being laden with gold cannot pass and enter in? making then a trifle of it, when he heard, that there were but such sufficient passage, accounting all things possible enough to be won, where only there were but place for money to pass. For (saith he) Pecuniae obediunt omnia, All things are obedient to money. Yet notwithstanding it is to be wished, that whosoever will violate or break sacred rites, or betray things committed to his charge on trust, by corruption of money or for avarice sake, that we had (as the old saying is) his skin full of angels.   

The miserable murders and deadly debates, that happened between the successors of Alexander, with the utter desolation of their state.  
ALexander surnamed the Great, lying very sick on his death bed, at Babylon, was asked of his friends in the very extreme and last article of death, to whom he would leave his realm and royal dignities, whereunto he answered, to the most worthy of the government thereof, 
Vt Diodorus relert.  which answer caused great dissension to arise betwixt the successors, insomuch, that open hostility and war was presently proclaimed among them, every one thinking himself as worthy as the rest, the one thorough his stately pride would not suffer himself to be subject or inferior to the other, so that the whole Captains and peers (being commonly called the successors of Alexander) fell to cruel war the one against the other, utterly spoiling and bereaving each other both of life and goods, not ceasing until they had rooted out the whole stock & line of Alexander their master, and also thorough greedy avarice murdered and consumed themselves. But first it is necessary, that we orderly proceed in the history for the better understanding of the Reader. Alexander now being dead, the Princes presently upon his decease fell to sedition, controversy and disagreement amongst themselves: for the regiment of the footmen were wholly determined to advance Aride to the kingdom, who although son to Philip, and brother unto Alexander, yet notwithstanding he was attained with the uncurable disease of the mind, by reason whereof, the rest of the Princes and Captains which guarded Alexander his body, having with them the horsemen, condescended and agreed by one whole common consent, to rear war against the footmen, rather than they would suffer their insolent boldness, for they would have Perdiccas advanced, whom Alexander at the hour of his death gave his ring, which deputed him as Governor, but before they enterpriced the matter, they thought best is send certain of the chiefest and most honourable personages in their company with an ambassade to the footmen, among whom one Meleager was appointed chief & principal Ambassador, to dissuade them to desist and leave off their attempt; but so soon as Meleager was come amongst them he never made mention of the ambassade committed to him, but contrariwise approving and allowing their attempt and enterprise did all that in him lay to maintain and support them against the horsemen and the other Princes, so that the footmen having good liking of his counsel and courage, ordained him forthwith their Colonel, and thereupon armed themselves to give battle unto the adversary; howbeit certain of the wisest and most circumspect, deeply weighing and considering the case how it did stand, he concluded a final peace, wherein in was agreed, that Aride brother to Alexander should be established King, and Perdiccas thief of the Macedonian Princes, and also governor to Aride the King, and unto the rest of the Princes and chief of the army were divided and given, the administrations and governments of the provinces lately under the subjection of Alexander their Master, which administrations and presidentships, the Greeks' called Satrapies, and the Governors of the same Provinces satraps, conditionally, that every of the said Princes at all times should be subject and obedient unto Aride the King, and also to Perdiccas his Governor. Now when Perdiccas, by reason of his Governorship had taken upon him the rule over the rest, he forthwith assembled all the Princes and chief Captains, and assigned to every of them certain Provinces to govern, namely, first he bestowed the government of Egypt, on Ptolemy the son of Lage, on Laomedom Syria, on Philotes Cilicia, on Phiton Media, on Eumenes Paphlagonia and Cappadocia, on Antigone Pamphilia and Licia, on Cassander Caria, on Meleager Lydia, and on Leonat the lesser Phrygia, which bordereth about Hellespont. In this sort was divided the provinces of Asia. In Europe was appointed to Lysimachus, the country of Thrace, to Antipater Macedonia: besides all these he constituted and ordained Seleucus Captain general of the horsemen called the soldiers, being the chief office and most honourable in the army, which charge Ephestion first had, whom Alexander entirely loved, and after him Perdiccas. Craterus also whom Alexander dearly loved, was appointed chief Captain over ten thousand in the army royal: and as touching the transporting of Alexander his body unto the Temple of jupiter Hammon, the setting up of his tomb, the appareling thereof, with the furniture and solemnisation of the funerals, the most charge was committed unto Aride the king & brother to Alexander. Thus when Perdiccas had placed these Princes, and divers other in such Provinces and places as himself thought good. He also assembled them together, making them privy of the marvelous enterprises & ordinances of their master Alexander deceased, 
Determinatio Alexandri●.  which things are worthy remembrance: for he showed unto them what things Alexander in his life had appointed to be done, & purposed to have done if he had lived, and therefore now at his death required him & the rest of the Paeres to accomplish these his determinations with all speed and expedition, which ordinances were wonderful, & of great charges. And because that Perdiccas himself would not go about to derogate the authority & honour of Alexander, his dead master, he committed the matter to the deliberation of them all being present, craving their consents to the frustrating of those escripts and appointments, which seemed so difficult, & almost unpossible to be brought to pass. For first he ordained that a thousand tall galleys should be built, longer & bigger than any where in Phenicia, Syria, Cilicia, or Cyprus, to war against the Carthaginians, and certain other regions bordering upon the Lybian and Spanish seas, to the end he would have been Lord over all those seas hard to the pillars of Hercules. He also ordained, that there should be erected five royal & honourable temples to the value of 500 talents every of them: and further, that there should be cut out large and wide harbours in places fit and for the purpose, to ride at harborough the said navy of galleys: that done, he commanded divers great and mighty cities to be built, and those to be peopled as followeth. First, that the inhabitants of Asia should be brought into Europe, & the inhabitants of Europe into Asia, to the end that they being conjoined in marriage and affinity, they should always continue in amity together: and for the places where the temples should be erected, he appointed that one should be at Delos in the honour of jupiter Dodone, one in Macedon to jupiter Nidie, one in Amphipolis to the Goddess Diana of Scythia, the other two of the honour of the goddess Pallas, the one in Siren, the other in Illy, which Temple in Illy he would should be so excellent & sumptuous, that the like no where should be found. Besides all these, he appointed a tomb to be built in fashion of a Pyramid or brooch, in the honour of his father Philip, far excelling them in Egypt, which are thought to be the most excellent things in the world that ever were seen or heard of. Now when all these ordinances of Alexander were red by Perdiccas, & heard by the Macedonian Princes, although they loved their master marvelously, yet when they saw his enterprises to be such, and of so great charge, they all agreed with one consent, that nothing should be done therein, departing every man to his Province whereunto he was appointed by the governor Perdiccas. Shortly after they were all departed, and separated one from another, Perdiccas thought good (having so fit opportunity) to revenge himself on those that first hindered him from being king. 
Mors Meleag.  And for because that Meleager now prince of Lydia, when he was sent ambassador to the footmen, did earnestly stand against his desire, & altogether prevented his intent, therefore Perdiccas (in revenge) first of all other most cruelly slew him, with 30. of the most principal soldiers that were against his proceed. The other princes soon had intelligence of the things Perdiccas had done, fearing he would show the like cruelty on them, hearing also what their master Alexander had said on his deathbed which was, that his kingdoms & possessions should be possessed of the most worthy: wherefore every of them enjoying so large provinces and territories, 
Discordia inter successores Alexandri.  thought themselves as worthy personages as either Aride the king, or Perdiccas his governor, insomuch that the most part of them would be subject to neither, but seniorized their Provinces to their own uses, challenging the name and title of kings, dividing themselves, taking part one against the other, every one striving who should be worthiest. Which words of Alexander, together with their stately pride, was the original cause that the whole number of Princes and captains (successors to Alexander) perished, and were utterly destroyed, for they earnestly coveted each others kingdom, raising among themselves bloody war, and cruel strife, snatching after the most worthy place, not forcing of cruel murders, or lamentable slaughters, but with eager minds bunted after the goods & life of each other, until they had utterly rooted out & consumed themselves: for Perdiccas (having slain Meleager, and other of his fellow servitors in Alexander's wars) took upon him to go into Egypt, 
Mors Perd.  to dispossess Ptolemy, whom before he had placed in that Province. But there, because he behaved himself so proudly, dismissing his captains upon small occasions at his pleasure, his soldiers set upon him most fiercely, & slew him: the greatest part of his army being gone to Ptolemy. 
Mors Philippi & Euridicae uxor eius.  King Philip & Eurydice his wife, were most cruelly murdered by Olympias, Alexander's mother. Craterus coming against Eumenes in open battle, was by him slain. Eumenes also was slain in fight by Antigonus. 
Craterus ce ciditur ab Eumene.  Antigonus likewise put to death Python, and gave his province to another. Antigonus going to battle against Antioch. the son of Seleucus, was himself slain by default of his son Demetrius. 
Mors quoque Eume. Mors Anti.  It was credebly reported that the night before Antigonus was slain, his son Demetrius dreamt that Alexander (who before was dead) came & stood before him with his sword drawn saying; I will take part with thy enemies against thy father and thee, & in the morning also when Antigonus arranged his phalange or square battle of footmen, coming forth of his Tent to fight, he stumbled and sell down flat to the ground, and after he was lifted up again, holding up his hands to heaven, he said, I know hard fortune and evil success drawethny, but I pray the immortal Gods rather suffer me to be slain in this battle, than shamefully before mine enemy to fly. Also old Antipater falling sick on a surfeit which he had taken in these wars, deceased, and left the kingdom of Macedon to Polispercon his friend, and not to Cassander his own son, which also caused great controversy to arise betwixt his son Cassander, and his friend Polispercon. But in the end Cassander expelled Polispercon his father's kingdom. Not long after he himself came to untimely death, leaving behind him two sons, the eldest height Alexander, the other Antipater, which Antipater after he had slain his own mother, sought means to drive his brother Alexander out of Macedon. For which cause Alexander sent for aid to king Pyrrhus in Cyprus, & to Demetrius Antigone his son in Peloponnesus, howbeit Demetrius being so occupied about the estate and affairs of Peloponnesus, when the Ambassadors of Alexander came, that he could by no means help him. In the mean time Pyrrhus with a great army came thither, and in recompense of his aid & charge, took possession of so large a piece of Macedon, laying it to his own country of Epire, that Alexander greatly dreaded him. And while he abode in this fear, he was advertised that Demetrius was with his whole power coming to his aid.  
Whereupon he considering the authority & great renown of Demetrius, and also the worthiness of his deeds, for which causes he was highly honoured through the whole world, did now more than before fear his estate if he entered his realm, wherefore he forthwith went to meet him: whom at their first meeting he right courteously and honourably entreated, greatly thanking him for his courtesy and travel, in that he would leave his own affairs of great importance, and with so mighty an army come to his aid: further telling him, that he already had well quieted and established his estate, so that he should not need any further to travel. Nevertheless he thought himself so much bound, as if he had come at his first sending for, or that all things had been by his means quieted. To these words Demetrius answered, that he was right glad of his quietness, and that he had now no need of his help, besides many other loving and gentle words: which greeting ended, either of them for that night returned into his tent. During which time there arose such matters betwixt them, that the one greatly suspected the other; for as Demetrius was bid to supper with Alexander, he was willed to take heed to himself, for Alexander had practised by treason to slay him: notwithstanding he by no mean showed any countenance of mistrust, but meant to go to the banquet, to whose lodging Alexander was coming to bring him on his way. But Demetrius diversly detracted the time, & went a soft & easy pace, to the end his soldiers might have leisure to arm them: and commanded his guard, being a greater number than Alexander's, to enter with him, & also to wait near his person, but when Alexander's soldiers saw themselves the weaker part, they durst not attempt it at that time. And after supper, because Demetrius would have some honest cause to departed, he feigned he was some what ill in his body, & therefore forthwith took leave of Alexander, & went thence. The next day Demetrius feigned that he had received letters out of his country of great importance, so that he with his army must presently return into Peloponnese from whence he came, praying Alexander to have him excused, offering him help when he needed, desiring to use him as one in whom he might repose his trust. Now was Alexander glad that of his own accord he would return, and because he would better let him understand some sign of good will & hearty love, he accompanied him into Thessaly. but after they were arrived in the City of Larissa, they a fresh began to practise new treason one against another: and first Alexander to put Demetrius quite out of suspicion, either without armour or weapon, or any guard to attend on his person, would oft visit him, hoping thereby to make him do the like: but he was in his so thinking greatly deceived; for as Alexander one night came to supper to Demetrius without guard according to his accustomed wont, and that they were in the chief of their supper, Demetrius suddenly arose from the table, whereat Alexander was sore abashed, insomuch that he arose also & followed him to the hall door: 
Interitus Alex.  but so soon as Demetrius was without, he gave sign and token to his soldiers, who incontinently fell upon Alexander and slew him, and certain of his men, which would have defended him: among whom, a certain fellow before he was killed, said; Demetrius hath prevented us but a day only. Now was Demetrius King of Macedon, and the Macedonians right glad of their change; 
Mors Demetri●.  but not long after this Demetrius was taken prisoner by Seleuchus in battle, & committed to prison, where he continued until he died. Then was the great fight betwixt Seleucus and Lysimachus, which was the very last battle that was fought betwixt the successors of Alexander; in which conflict Lysimachus was slain, & Seleucus victor. 
Mors Lysima. ut lustinus scribit,  But Seleucus enjoyed his victory not long; for he was shortly after slain by Ptolemy, whose sister Lysimachus had married. Also Olympias mother to Alexander the Great, 
Mors quoque Seleuchi.  when she had slain King Philip and his wife Eurydice; then to despite Cassander she put to death an 100 noble men of Macedon at one time; also she made Nicanor brother to Cassander to be slain, and defaced the tomb and monument of jole his other Brother, 
Factum terribile.  to revenge the death of Alexander her son (as she said) because it was suspected that he had poisoned him in giving him drink. About the same time when Ptolemy Lord of the Isle of Cypress, understood that Nicocles King of Paphos, had secretly allied with Antigone, he sent two of his chief friends, to wit, Argey and Calicrate into Cypress, charging them to kill the said Nicocles, fearing that if he should leave him unpunished, the rest would not stick to do the like. When these messengers were arrived in Cypress, having with them the soldiers of Ptolemy, they encompassed the house of Nicocles, signifying to him their charge from Ptolemy, & therefore they exhorted him to kill himself; who from the beginning used many words in the excusing of the fact: but when he did see there was no account made of his tale, he at the last slew himself: and after that Axithia his wife understood of his death, she first slew two young maids her daughters, 
Lamentabile actum.  whom she had by him, to the end they should not come into the hands of her husband's enemies: and after exhorted Nicocles brothers wives willingly to die with her, which indeed they did. In this sort also was the palace royal of Paphos full of murders and wilful slaughters, and after in manner of a tragedy burnt: for immediately after the brother's wives of Nicocles were dead, they shut up the doors of the houses and set them on fire, and forthwith they that then lived in the palace killed themselves, and so finished that lamentable murder. In the same season, while these things were done in Cypress, great controversy arose in the Country of Pontus, 
Discordia inter fratres  after the death of Parisade sometime King of Bosphorus, betwixt Satire, Eumele, and Pritame, Parisade his sons, for the succession of the said Realm: insomuch, that the brothers made sharp war one against the other. So it fortuned, that Satire and Pritame were both slain in that war: wherefore the other Brother Eumele to assure himself of the Realm, caused all the wives, children, and friends of Pritame and Satire his brethren, to be slain: & not long after was himself cruelly slain by misfortune. Now to return to Alexander the Great and his line; it was reported and partly believed that he himself consented with Olympias his mother to the death and murder of Philip his father: for which grievous offence he himself with his whole line and stock was punished accordingly. For first it is to be considered, that old Antipater who in Alexander's life was his Lieutenant, and after his death first had the Satrape of Macedon bestowed on him by Perdiccas the Governor. Which Antipater and Olympias could never agree, but still were at contention and strife, both in the life time of her son Alexander and also after his death, insomuch that when Alexander was coming from the conquest of the world, making his abode in Babylon for a time, and after minding to return home into Macedon to visit his mother Olympias; Antipater being then Lieutenant of Macedon, considered with himself, that if in case Alexander should return home, that then his mother Olympias would make grievous complaints against him, which thing he so much feared, that he caused poison to be given to Alexander at Babylon whereof he presently died. Thus when Alexander was dead, and old Antipater deceased, there grew a new grudge and quarrel betwixt Olympias and Cassander son to Antipater, 
Interitus O lympij matter Alex.  insomuch that he took Olympias prisoner, and in the end caused her to be slain. Aslo he slew Alexander son of Alexander the Great, and Roxana his mother, & afterward he put to death Hercules the other son of Alexander with Arsinne his mother, yet notwithstanding Cassander espoused Thessalonica one of the Sisters of Alexander the great, who after the death of Cassander was also slain by her own son Antipater, Cleopatra also the other Sister of Alexander was also slain by the commandment of Antigonus. After this sort was the whole line of Alexander for all his mighty conquests, gained with lamentable slaughters and wonderful effusion of blood, 
Extinctus universales successores Alex.  utterly extinguished by Antipater and his Successors. Also what gained his Successors by the large Kingdoms and possessions he left? For they were all by envy deprived both of life and lands in miserable sort. Insomuch that their remained not one, that could justly vaunt and brag of his happy success: but had rather good cause to mourn & bewail the cruel murders, manifold slaughters, and wasteful ruins, both of themselves, their wives, children and friends; having also right good cause to wish that Alexander had never been borne, or else that he had never conquered so great a part of the world to leave the possession thereof to them; whereby they were all driven to untimely death, with the murder of infinite thousands of their people: so that the whole whole world did lament and grieve at their mserable perdition and destruction. Whereby it is manifest, whatsoever Alexander had gathered together in foreign wars with the slaughter and destruction of divers people, was lost again by civil dissension, with the lamentable murder of his friends, children & allies, neither in the end was there any thing else gained (by his unsatiable mind) saving only dolour, lamentation, sorrow, and distressed wretchedness, which is a most common consequent and incident hap unevitable to ruinous war.   

The cause why stately Carthage lost her Empire, and what miserable slaughters of men, happened to be betwixt the Romans and the Carthaginians; which first chanced through the envious minds of the Africans themselves.  
WHen the two stately Empires of Rome and Carthage had long contended in war, and fought many fierce Battles & perilous conflicts, to the great slaughter and perishing of many thousands on both sides; they in the end being tired and over wearied with the miserable murders and calamities of cruel war, were on both parts willing to have a league and peace concluded and agreed upon between them for certain years, and places limited for division betwixt their Empires, whereby they might know each others Countries apart. Which thing being done and confirmed on both parts, by solemn vow to remain unuiolated & unbroken betwixt them during the same limited time. But not long after, when both wealth & power began to increase in their Countries, than the stately pride of the one, began likewise to malign and disdain at the flourishing estate of the other, and also that Hannibal son of Hamilcar was come to man's estate; who had sworn before his father being but a boy, that he from thenceforth would become a deadly foe to the Romans (as before hath partly been shown). Now forasmuch as the forefathers and divers other friends of Hannibal had been cruelly dealt withal by the Romans, in the first war; wherefore his mind was the more whetted on, to take revengement of such cruelty. Insomuch, that being come to man's estate, & also having authority and power committed to him by the Senate of Carthage, to be the chief Leader and Captain against the Romans, as his father Hamilcar had been before him in the first war, remembered now afresh the ancient injuries, that the Romans had offered to the Carthaginians and his predecessors, that in token of his malice toward them he struck his foot into the ground, 
Dictum Hannibalis, ut Pol. refert  and therewithal took up the fragments of dust and earth, scattering them about saying; Tum belli finis erit, cum alterutra pars in habitum pulueris redacta fuerit. Then shall the war betwixt the Romans and the Carthaginians end (saith he) when every part and parcel of this dust shall return into one clod and lump again. Departing from Africa with 90000. footmen, and 12000. horsemen to invade the Romans their ancient adversaries, not doubting but to enlarge theirs with the Roman Empire, & to reign as Kings over the earth: for that no Nation in the world did come near them in stateliness, but only the Romans, whom now they minded to suppress. Thus when Hannibal had obtained an Army, and also firmly had assured to him the faithful friendship of divers of the Senators, at all times to favour his proceedings, and also to supply his wants, he then with banner displayed first warred on their friends, and after marched into Italy, to make sharp war on the Romans themselves, where he fought many cruel and bloody battles, slaying & murdering many thousands of their people, gaining daily in their country, subduing their cities and towns, winning from them their annexed provinces, marching at the last to the very walls of Rome, viewing the situation thereof, minding where it was weakest to make a breach, and to bend his greatest forces against it, to the end he might with more ease take the City; which indeed he had done, if the immortal Gods had not prevented his purpose, as the Romans themselves do witness: for when he had slain divers of their Consuls, with a number of their ancient Senators, & in many battles discomfited their valiantest Captains and Leaders, so that there were none almost left living, that durst encounter the victorious Carthaginian; so terrible was the name of Hannibal unto the Romans. Insomuch, that now when he approached their walls, they were all strooken with such fear and terror, that their streets were filled with lamentations and pitiful howl of the terrified and over frighted people shutting their windows and doors in all the City, mourning and making such lamentable dole and pitiful wailing, as if then the executioner had been present within the walls of their City. Notwithstanding Fuluius Flaccus then being Consul, hearing the doleful cries of the distressed Citizens, being moved with their present misery, gathered a sufficient Army of the trembling Romans and marched out of the City in good order against his enemy Hannibal, aranging his battles ready to encounter the fierce foe, which also came marching against them, to give down right battle to Flaccus the Consul, but the trembling Romans being so terrified with the name of Hannibal, were now at the sight of his displayed banners and presence of his mighty person, so wounded with an unspeakable fear and terror, that their hearts quite failed them, standing all as if they were more ready to fly than fight: which the Consul right well perceived to his great grief and sorrow. But thus well it happened to the distressed Romans, before the Armies could could join battle, there fell a wonderful storm, with such violence and mighty force, that both the Armies were driven into their holds without battle. The next day also, when they likewise came forth to fight, they were in like manner separated and driven back with another mighty storm; so that Hamnibal was forced to retire from the City: which (as both the Romans themselves and also the Carthaginians affirm) was by the providence of the immortal Gods, not to suffer Hannibal at that time to fight with the fearful Romans, but protracting the time that the Carthaginians might be plagued for their unfaithfulness. For if (by common judgement) they had at that time fought, Rome had been sacked, their Empire lost, and their lives under the mercy of Hannibal. Therefore said Hanno a Carthaginian: As the immortal Gods provided for the safety of the Romans, so in like sort, they provided grievously to plague our unfaithfulness, for breaking of our sacred vow & plighted promise. For when all hope of the Romans were taken away, their chief forces and powers diminished, their prudent Consuls and Senators slain, their valiant Captains & soldiers consumed, their Country wasted and destroyed with the continuance of war; insomuch that they despaired for ever to recover their liberty, or hold the Carthaginians from conquest of their Country. Now in this great extremity, young P.C. Scipio craved of the remnant of the Senators, which were left alive, that he might have an Army to fight against Hannibal and the Carthaginians, not doubting, but that he would both revenge their injuries, and also expel Hannibal out of Italy. The ancient Senators seeing the valiantness of his mind, willingly granted his request, & most pitifully with weeping eyes and lamentable voices, earnestly required him to stand manfully to the defence of their Emyire, City and liberty, beseeching him also to remember the mournful cries and pitiful wailings of their wives and children, with other miserable and distressed Citizens, which had already tasted the cruelty of the Carthaginians by the loss of their dear friends. P. Scipio having received his charge, being not willing to defer the time from doing good to his Country, presently set upon the Carthaginians with such circumspect policy and manly courage, that he not only drove them out of Italy and Spain, but also overthrew them in many great battles, and in the end went with his power into Africa, where he also got divers victories of the Carthaginians, who before had mightily plagued the Romans. Now began fortune to show herself in her right kind, for whereas the Carthaginians daily harkened and looked after the conquest of Rome with the whole Empire of Italy, at this time they began to suspect to suspect their own estate & liberty. Insomuch that the Senators of Carthage seeing the Carthaginian Empire in such imminet peril and present danger, sent forthwith for Hannibal, commanding him to leave warring in foreign regions and strange countries, and come home to defend his own Empire, which stood in hazard to be loss: yet notwithstanding the coming of Hannibal into Africa, did nothing discourage the noble Scipio, but that he still gained on the Carthaginians to their great loss and spnyle: so that now the Carthaginians began utterly to despair of their own safety, minding in this great extremity to venture and hazard their whole Empire, City, liberty and lives in one Battle: for that they well knew they could not long continue the wars, by reason that they had already spent such a massy treasure in hope of getting of the Roman Empire, that at this time they had not sufficient to defend their own Country, wherefore they were forced to compremit the matter to Lady Fortune, whom although, for a time she had sweetly smiled on, notwithstanding at the last she showed herself no equal or indifferent judge, but partially took part with the Romans, to the quite overthrowing and subduing of the Carthaginians before the city of Carthage, in the great and mighty battle which was at that time fought between them for the Empire of the World. Thus Scipio defended both his own Country and Empire, enlarging it with the Empire of the greedy Enemy, and also caused the Senators of Carthage to sue both to him, and to the Senate of Rome, humbly on their knees craving for their lives, and to have mercy at the hands of the Romans, whom before they would take no peace withal: falling now prostrate at the feet of Scipio, embracing and kissing the ground whereon he stood, 
Submissio Paeni. Poli. 14.  crying continually; O thou victorious Scipio, use thy victory with mercy, and thy conquest with clemency, spare our lives, suffer our City to stand, destroy not our country: and we will henceforth become true friends & aiders to you, O ye victorious Romans. Scipio considering the lamentable & miserable estate of the distressed Romans, when Hannibal and the Carthaginians lay before the walls of their City, and with what mournful cries, pitiful wailings, lamentable howl, and fearful scriching, the poor afflicted Romans were oppressed withal: wherefore now knowing by experience what lamentation and pitiful outcries was in the City of Carthage, for fear of him and the Romans, who lay at the very gates ready to spoil, take and sack the Town; being moved with a manly pity, he not only refrained from the destruction of their City, but also granted them peace upon such conditions as he prescribed unto them; which they willingly agreed unto: requiring also in the Articles their Navy of ships, which so oft had vexed the Romans, causing them all to be set on fire in their sight, to the lamentable spectacle of the grieved Citizens, being above, 500 sail. Also it is to be noted, that after the compositions, Scipio demanded a certain sum of money to be gathered amongst them, and presently paid unto him: which money was so grievous to the Carthaginians, because their stock and common substance was before greatly wasted: wherefore at the levying of the said sum of their private substance, great lamentation and weeping was made in all parts of the troubled City; which Hannibal beholding, could not forbear to laugh. Whereat one Asdrubal Hedus took great indignation, rebuking him, for that he (being the very original of all their sorrow) in the common mourning of the City should so laugh. Whereunto Hannibal answered, If ye might behold the inward thought of my mind, as ye may the outward apparent countenance of my face: you should perceive this laughter not to come of any joy of the heart, but of a mad & frenzy mind. Nevertheless, this my laughter is not so inordinate, nor cometh so out of time, as your tears do: for first you should have wept, when your armour was taken from you, and your ships burned before your eyes, and when your liberty of making war with any stranger (but only by the licence of the Romans) was taken from you, wherein rested your chiefest fall and undoing. But ye feel no hurt unless it touch your private wealth: and now when you must pay the tribute of their private goods, every man weary, as he would do at the burial of his friend. But they had further cause to wail and lament, than for their money and treasure or any other private goods, for they before had lost in this war 400000. men, which were slain in battle, 
Sic scribit Poli.  besides a wonderful number of others, which died by hurts and in skirmishes, & by the losses of Cities being no part of the aforesaid number which was slain in set battle. Also they lost 300. of their ancient Senators & other Estates, which had borne office in the City of Carthage, to their great sorrow & grief, but this (as Hannibal told them) grieved them but little, in respect of the sorrow which they conceived by the touching of every man's private substance, which thing came nearer to the quick, than that which they ought far more to have lamented. Soon after these great victories won by Scipio, he returned to Rome with great spoils, bringing also with him the Empire of Carthage with a mighty mass of treasure, able to have rejoiced any Nation in the world. Notwithstanding for all their victory, great spoils, wonderful rich prays, and new Empire, he found them in a manner, as sorrowful at his coming home, as when he departed from Rome in their great extremity, for neither the news of his success, the mighty mass of treasure which he brought with him, nor the stately empire of the world, which he by his valour had obtained to the everlasting fame and renown of the Romans, was sufficient to keep their minds from mourning, their hearts from sorrowful sobbing, not their eyes from bitter tears, such was their losses in that war, their Consuls slain, their Senators and chief rulers consumed, and a mighty number of their people utterly perished. Hannibal had slain in fight 5. of their kingly Consuls: to wit, Flaminius L. Aemilius Paulus, Posthumus, Marcellus, and old P. Scipio that was slain in Spain. There was also slain Cneius Scipio, brother to this P. Scipio, with Titus Gracchus, Cneius Fuluius, Centenius Penula, with divers other noble Romans of great fame and authority. Hamnibal had also slain of the Roman soldiers 300000. in open fight and set field, besides the slaughters which were committed in the winning of towns, odd meetings, skirmishes, & such other extraordinary fights betwixt the Romans and the Carthaginians; which by common judgement was near comparable, to the former number. Thus was Italy stained with the blood of her native Romans, and the cruel slaughters of the Carthaginians, so that the Romans had no more cause to rejoice in their mighty conquest, than the Carthaginians had at their lost Empire. In the last conflict between Hannibal and Scipio, the Carthaginians lost the field before the walls of Carthage, with the slaughter of 50000. men; the Romans having the victory, lost in the same battle 54000. worthy soldiers. Therefore great was the mourning in Carthage for their utter subversion, and as great, or rather greater was the lamentation in Rome, after their victory, for their dear friends, chief states, & other mighty losses, so that the Empire of the whole world, could not withhold them from doleful moan and pitiful weepings, having good cause on both parts to wish, that the wars had never begun, or that their proud minds had digested the abuses of each other rather than on both sides so to bewail their remediless losses: Qui struit insidias alijs, sibi damna dat ipse.   

By what means ancient Troy was destroyed, and why the whole Empire of Phrigia was lost, with the lamentable murders, aswell of the Troyans', as the Grecians being victors.  
WHen Paris son to Priamus' King of Troy was returned from Lacedaemon with fair Helena wife to Menelaus whom he had stolen from thence when her husband was gone to dispose the goods of old Atreus his father, 
Vt Dictys Cret●nsis affirmat.  lately being dead in Crete, the angry Greeks not well contented therewith, nor digesting such a proud abuse and shameful rape at the Trojans hands having no reformation of their wrongs, when as Palamedes, Ulysses, and Menelaus himself went to Troy to demand Helena again by the way of entreaty, before they would proclaim war) assembled a mighty Army, determining sharply to revenge themselves on such a vile and untolerable act; wherefore they with twelve hundred ships of war (being strongly furnished with men and munition) sailed towards Troy with the aid and persons of three score and ten Kings, and kingly Peers, which also in the behalf of the wronged Greekes had made a vow against the Troyans'. Priamus in like manner (after his son Paris had brought home his long desired love) fortified his town, made strong his walls and was aided with the power and persons of three and thirty Kings, beside many valiant princes which were his own sons, maintaining war against the fierce Greeks' the space of ten years, two months & twelve days, to the wonderful slaughter and mighty murder of them both. Notwithstanding, after many cruel fights and bloody battles, Troy was taken, being sacked, spoiled, beaten down and ruinously defaced with fire by the Greeks, who first were mightily abused at the hands of the Phrygians. In revengement whereof they slew aged Priamus' Father to Paris and King of Troy, with thousands of the Phrygian Nobility, using all extremities, and finally subverting that royal City.  
Thus when the angry Greeks had utterly wasted & destroyed Phrygia, burned Troy, slain the valiant sons of King Priamus, slaughtered in battle of the Troyans' 656000. beside those that were slain at the subversion of the City, which were a most wonderful and inestimable number, 
Sic Dares Phrigius recordat. l. 1  to the great lamentation of the whole world, and fully had revenged the vile villainy that Paris had offered, after the most cruel manner; then they whom fortune had left alive, returned into Grece with the empire of Asia, and all the kingdoms which lately were under the subjection of Priamus. Yet for all this, the Grecians had no great cause to triumph and rejoice in their victorious conquest, but rather to lament their mighty losses, cruel slaughters and manifold spoils, which they sustained by the Trojan War: for during the ten years siege, they had slain of their people by the Trojans 860000. men, besides all their chief Peers, which were slain during the time of the siege, or else after by occasion of the Trojan war. The most valiant Hector son to Priamus' King of Troy, courageously chased the Greeks' in many battles by the space of 6. years: but then, after Achilles by misfortune had slain the noble Hector, every thing fell out unhappily to the Trojans, notwithstanding during his life, his name was terrible to the Greeks': for he had slain 28. of their chief Kings and Princes with his own hand; namely, Protesilaus the great King of Philaca with many thousand more when first the Greeks' landed on the Phrygian shore: he also slew Patroclus King of Pythia, 
Hi Graij ca dunt ab Hectore.  who had put himself in the armour of Achilles, Lufor, Boetes, Archilogus, Meron King of Crete, with Epistrophus, Leped●mon, Deipeynor, & proud Prothenor king of Boetia, Dorius, Polixenus, Zantippus, Serpedon, with Phidippus the mighty King of Chalcedom, Polibetes, Alpinor, Philetes, Letabonis, Isideus, and Leonteus the valiant King of Larissa, Menon, Humerus, Maymentus, Palemon, Phillis, Octa●en, with Schedius the dreadful King of Phocis: all which being mighty Kings, were manfully slain in battle by the worthy Hector, beside many other noble & worthy Greeks' of less account. Agamemnon's son of old Atreus' King of Mycenae, the chief ringleader of the Greeks' against the Trojans, was himself slain by the occasion of the Trojan War. For returning home from the Phrygian Conquest with Cassandra the daughter of unfortunate Priamus, his own wife Chtemnestra conspiring with Aegisthus, 
Interitus Agamemnonis occasione bell. Troianorum.  with whom she had lived in adultery in the absence of Agamemnon her husband, so that she caused her Lord to assay a garment on his body which had no issue for his head, and whilst he was striving therewith Aegisthus thrust him through, and so stew him: thus was that noble Prince by occasion of his long absence most cruelly murdered at his return; which happened by the Trojan war. Also Achilles, after he had bathed his sword in the blood of the Trojans, cruelly chase the Phrygians in sundry fights, and also had slain Hector and Troilus, 
Mors Achylli.  the valiant sons of Priam, at the length was himself slain by the subtle invention of Hecuba, mother to these noble youths whom he had slain, with the feigned love of Polixena her daughter: for, causing doting Achilles to come to Pallas Temple (after a subtle and treacherous sort) where he was traitorously slain by Paris, her son also. 
Pyrrhus' occiditur per eadem causam, testis Dyctis. li. 6.  In like case Neoptolemus otherwise called Pyrrhus for his fierce and stern visage, the son of the most worthy Achilles; after he had slain aged Priamus' King of the Trojans, and murdered his son Polites at the Altar, in the presence of Hecuba his tender mother, and sacrificed his Daughter Polixena on the tomb of Achilles, sharply revenging his Father's death, wrought by Hecuba & her daughter. Thus, when he had both revenged Menelaus wrongs, and the traitorous murder of his Father Achilles; was himself slain by Orestes, for certain occasions about Hermione, which happened in his absence. Ajax, a most renowned Greeke being companion to Achilles, & always accounted of the Grecians the next in force & strength to noble Achilles: therefore Ajax claimed the armour of his slain companion, for that his strength far surpassed all the Greeks, and also in consideration of his good service done at that ùege: notwithstanding Ulysses earnestly contended for the armour of slain Achilles, encountering Ajax with eloquence, pleading also before the Greeks', that he had conveyed the slain body of Achilles to Thetis his mother on his back; which otherwise might have lost the honour of his funeral. Thus in the end, Ulysses by his eloquent tongue, obtained the armour: for which cause Ajax fell mad chase after wild beasts threatening them (by reason of his frantic mood) to be the person of Ulysses; and in this sort he died. Ulysses also, son to Laertes, after he had done many notable exploits at the same siege, for that (as the report goeth) when he had convated the sacred relic Palladium and fatal destiny of the town away, was himself driven to sea by the displeasure of Pallas from whose temple he had conveyed the relic, where he wandered the space of ten years, losing in his perilous journey the armour of Achilles, for which he had so mightily contended, leaving in that voyage his companion Achemenides, in the dangerous den of the Ciclops, where he lost other of his fellows and mates by Poliphemus the cruel giant, & at the last having lost all, both that which he brought from Greece, and also that which he had gotten at the subversion of Troy, he chanced home again; where he remained for a time unknown, suffering many spiteful displeasures by the suitors of Penelope his chaste wife: whom after he had vanquished by the help of Telemacus his son, 
Mors Vlissi. ut scribit Dares in reditu Grecorum.  was finally in the same quarrel slain himself, by his bastard son Telogonus. In like manner, Palamedes was slain at the siege of Troy, by his countrymen, which happened through the craft of Ulysses: for when first the Grecians began to provide for the Trojan war, Ulysses being newly married to fair Penelope, would willingly have stayed at home in Greece with his dainty love, insomuch that he feigned himself mad, cupling days together fond & ploughing frantically in that field: but Palamedes loath to lose so fit a companion, smelling also out the matter, laid Telemacus the young Son of Ulysses in the furrow where his father came with the plough to prove his madness, Ulysses was not so mad but perceived his son, & lifted his plough from the furrow to miss his child, then cried Palamedes with a loud voice, saying, Thy craft Ulysses is perceived, therefore lay aside thy plough and take in hand thy weapons: so by the means of Palamedes the subtle craft of Ulysses was found out: notwithstanding Palamedes scaped not unrevenged, for as Dictis Cretensis, (whose person was there present, 
Mors Palame. Dictis Cretensis.  and also whose works at this day remain extant) reporteth on this sort, Igitur simulato quod thesaurum repertum, in puteo cum eo partiri vellent, remotis procul omnibus persuadent, ut ipse potius descenderet. Eumque nihil insidiose metuentem, adminiculo funis usum deponunt: ac properè arreptis saxis quae circum erant, desuper orbuunt. Ulysses, with the help of Diomedes feigned that they had found secretly hidden in a well, a certain mass of money, which they would willingly part with Palamedes if it should so please him, persuading him to go down into the well, which thing he unadvisedly did by the help of a cord, suspecting no evil at all: but Ulysses and Diomedes, flinging down stones violently which lay there about ready for the purpose, stoned Palamedes to death, who mistrusted no such matter. In this sort (saith Dictis) Ulysses revenged himself on Palamedes, but other authors otherwise affirm, saying; that when Ulysses lay before Troy, to work revengement on him who was the cause of his being there, he used this subtle policy, he counterfeited letters from Priamus directed to Palamedes, wherein he made mention of certain money which he before had sent him, giving him hearty thanks for diverse treasons which he before had condescended unto also, (which money Ulysses had caused to be hid in his tent by corrupting of his servants) now when these feigned letters were found, & Palamedes called in question about the matter, Ulysses earnestly took part with him, saying that he verily thought Palamedes had wrong, and that these letters were feigned by the enemy; which thing (saith he) may easily be found; for if you can find any such money either about him or else where secretly hid by his means, than no doubt, he is guilty of this treason; but if not, as I am fully persuaded, than ye must think that the man hath mightily been injured by some dispitfull foe, than was search made in his tent where the same money was found closely digged in the ground which the counterfeit letters made mention of, for which cause the whole host of the Grecians cried out for speedy revengement: wherefore he forthwith was condemned by the peers of Grece to be stoned to death, 
Sic Dares Phrigeus autumat.  which judgement presently was executed: so died Palamedes who always had been true to his countrymen: Anticlus a noble peer of Greece, in like sort, at the same siege died in untimely death, for being in the huge horse (which the Grecians had framed before Troy, to be the fatal destruction of the Trojans) with a number of other Grecian Lords secretly hidden in his hollow paunch or woomb; the rest of the Army of Greece flying to Tenedos, as if they would have returned home to Greece again, Anticlus now remaining behind in the hollow horse which stood before Troy, being accompanied with these worthy Princes, Thoas, Ulysses, Menelaus & Neoptolemus Achilles' brother, with many other noble states. The Troyans' hearing that the Grecians had consecrated that horse to Pallas to appease her wrath, now in the absence of the Grecians thronged and wonderfully clustered about the horse: some of them wishing to burn it, saying, it was a false frame invented of Ulysses to betray their City, namely Lacon, who cried out; Break down or burn this hollow horse, wherein the wilily Greekes do lurk. Also fair Helena herself (who was the original cause of that bloody war:) greatly suspected that a troop of Greeks' were secretly enclosed in that hollow frame insomuch that she herself came privily to the horse, being before time acquainted with the right voices of the Ladies of Greece, began most artificially to counterfeit their voices in the Grecian tongue, meaning thereby, that if there were any Lords of Greece therein enclosed, they would speak to her when she did rightly counterfeit their Ladies. But the subtle Greeks were as mistrustful as she was wily, refusing to answer to her voice; only Anticlus would have spoken, when (as he deemed) he had heard the lively voice of Laodamia his wife, had not Ulysses letted him, by laying his hand on his mouth until Helena departed, whereby Anriclus was strangled, and forthwith died. What cause then had the victorious Grecians to rejoice at the ruin and destruction of Troy, when as their chief Peers were slain at the same siege: some of them violently being chased at sea, so that they returned not home to Greece in the space of 20. years: some of them also being slain at their return to Greece by treason, which was known to happen through the occasion of the Trojan war. So that there remained alive of 70. Kings not fully 15. but either they were slain before Troy, at their return by treason, or else through dissension for dividing the Trojan spoils. Insomuch that all Greece had as great cause to bewail the loss of their noble peers slain by the Trojan war; as the vanquished trojans had to mourn at the destruction and subversion of their aged prince, worthy Peers, and stately empire: wherefore neither the Grecians, Romans, Macedonians, nor any other countrymen whatsoever, (who by their notable victories have brought many Countries under subjection) that ever had just cause to joy over their conquest, or triumph over their great and mighty victories, but rather had in the end good cause to mourn, lament, sorrow, and heartily repent their achived victories, for that many calamities, miseries, lamentable losses and pitiful slaughters, is as well incident to the victor, as unevitable to the vanquished; therefore what gaineth the victor but loss, and although it procureth private joy to some: yet notwithstanding it purchaseth public sorrow to many. Thus doth despiteful war, both waist, destroy, ruinated, confound and utterly subvert the Kingdoms, countries, stately provinces and worthy Cities of the conquered: and also cruelly spoil, displeasantly fox, and miserably torment the conqueror: so that where the vanquished have cause to bewail their subverted state, there (most commonly) the victor lamenteth his loss, and hath good cause to complain on fortune's cruelty.    

That it is both a disgrace, and also a foul discredit, to Englishmen to challenge their genealogy of the Trojans or to derive their pedigree from such an unfaithful stock, who were the chief causers of their own perdition.  
IT hath been, & is at this day amongst Christians a mere folly and wonderful madness, to derive and fetch their genealogy and pedigree, from the ancient Trojans, because (for sooth) that they would be known to descend and spring from the Gods, as the old foolish saying is, that the Trojans did: for it is said that old Anchises begot Aeneas on the goddess Venus, and after the fatal subversion of Troy, Aeneas much increased that stock and kindred, as hereafter shall more manifestly appear. The proud Trojans & the stately Grecians, falling into controvercie about their ancient generosity, seeking out which of them descended from the most ancientest stock and line, the Trojans affirming that Hector was far more worthy than Achilles, the Grecians also stoutly maintain that Achilles was superior to Hector; which thing the Trojans, not well digesting, unfold their fond pedigree as followeth, Etsi enim Peleifilius Achilles fuit, Aeaci verò Peleus, & Aeacus iovis, sic quóque Hector Priami, Priamus autem Laomedontis, & Dardani Laomedon silius, Dardanus, quóque jove prognatus est. Alijgenus Hectoris paulò aliter derivant, jupiter inquiunt, ex Electra genuit Dardanum? Dardanus Assaracum & Ilium, Ilius Laomedontem, 
Vide Tertellum.  Laomedon Priamum, Priamus Hectorem, vide Tortellium, after this sort they derive themselves from the gods, but if it be possible that a wicked & a perverse generation should spring and descend from the gods themselves, than no doubt but that the Trojans came lineally from the gods, and if (as they say) Dardanus was begotten of a God how soon then did his son Laomedon digres from that sacred genealogy, for of him thus it was said; 
Vide Gel. lib 7.  Laomedon insignis perfidia fiut, qui pactam pro constructis Troiae maenibus mercedum neganit Apolloni atque Neptuno, violavitque sacram iurisiurandi religionem quae semper abalijs inviolatè santissiméque habita. Laomedon was the unfaithfullest Prince that lived, for having borrowed a great sum of money of the priests of Apollo, & Neptune, to rear and build up again the decayed walls of Troy, which being done, & the priests crave their money again, he mightily forsweres the debt, protesting and vowing by the sacred gods, he ought them no such sum, & therefore he would pay no such debt. Wherefore by the just plague of the Gods their predecessors (as they themselves affirm) their city was part over flown with the raging seat: by reason where of there arose afterwards in the city when the water was retired, a most miserable & deadly plague whereof many thousands of the Trojans died, which plague to appease they asked counsel & advice of the oracle at Delphos, how they should satisfy the angry gods: answer was given them that no other ways they could appease their wrath and displeasure, but only by this means, by giving monthly a virgin to a sea monster, with should appear for the nonce at the shore or bank before Troy, which custom being observed and duly kept the grievous plague seized: it happened in time that the daughter of Laomedon the King (whose name was Hesione) was chosen by lot and chance to be the virgin that should satisfy the greedy monster: 
Vt dictum.  thus when the time drew on that the sea monster was ready weighting at his wont port craving his accustomed prey, and thus pensive Laomedon with divers of the lamenting Trojans came forth with the virgin bound, presently to be given to the eager monster to be devoured, in the mean time pitifully be wailing the distressed state of the guiltless virgin. Hercules by great chance at that time coming from the voyage of Hespere, happened to be against Troy when such a mighty throng of people stood on the shore, wherefore he forthwith drew near and demanded the cause, and why they did so lament: then trembling Laomedon told all that is before rehearsed confessing his own perjury, for which all this misery chanced. The noble minded Hercules greatly pitying their their distressed state, demanding of Laomedon what he would give the man that should free their city from that monthly fee: whereunto he answered, that he could never thoroughly recompense that man, but in token of his good will he would give him two of his white steeds, which jewels of all earthly things he had most pleasure in: now Hercules for that he always strived to do good, coveting rather to deliver the distressed people, than after that gift of Laomedon although he made countenance of acceptance, insomuch that he gave battle to that monstrous beast where betwixt them was fought a cruel fight: but in conclusion the monster was slain, & the Trojans freed from that monthly fee: then was Hercules much made of in Troy, until such time that unfaithful Laomedon forgetting the great pleasure and benefit that he had received at his hands; privily repining and grudging at his being in the city, chief for that the Citizens much honoured & favoured the man, which was altogether displeasant to him, insomuch that Laomedon awaighted when Hercules went to sport himself out of the City, and then presently shut up the gates of Troy against him: also denying to give the horses which before he had promised. Thus when Hercules did see himself so deluded, by the twice perjured King; being mightily moved, vowed that he in time would take revengement on that disloyal wretch, and not long after he came with mighty force against the city of Troy, and made war on the King, slaying many thousands of his people, defacing the town of Troy which Laomedon by his vile perjury had built and erected, taking prisoners Priamus and Hesione children of the unfaithful king: but the wretch Laomedon their father was fled to keep himself from the hands of Hercules, whom before he had so mightily abused; thus for his perjury, disloyalty, & accustomed discourtesy, his stately City was overthrown, his children led captive and himself forced to flee. Yet again Laomedon was suffered to erect up the walls of Troy, and replenish it with people the second time: not long after also Hercules came again into the Trojan road when he was going with jason to Colchos, 
Cornelio Nepote interpret. Fol. 149.  to fetch the golden fleece, & there required aid of Laomedon for his pay, but the discourteous King denied his lawful suit, for which spiteful part, Hercules' when he returned from that voyag the second time came against Troy with a great power, whom the king minding to encounter, was slain in the sight of the Citizens, and Troy again taken. Yet the noble minded Hercules being moved with pity, suffered Priamus, the son of Laomedon the slain king to be redeemed from his captivity; who a new erected and built the walls of unfortunate Troy. This perjury and unfaithful dealing of Laomedon, whether it be true or false, it is recorded by the Trojans themselves, and especially reiterated & made extant by the Romans; who of all other Nations do most proudly brag and vaunt of the Trojans their predecessors and progenitors. This I am sure, no Nation of the world can deny, but that Hercules was always a fréer to Countries from tyranny, a reformer of wrongs, a helper of the afflicted, and never in his life did injure or hurt any prince, people, or Commonwealth, without just cause of shameful villainy. For it is well known, that at the very hour of his Nativity, the sacred Oracle of Apollo was heard to pronounce these words; 
Heraclem te alio Phoebus cognomine dicit,  
Gratificando etenim, 
Hercules was also called Heracles.  decus immortale tenebis.  
Phoebus calls thee Hercules, thy name so termeth he;  
By doing good and gracious deeds, thy praise shall endless be.   
Wherefore it is to be considered, that Hercules either did wrongfully suppress the Trojans, 
Dares Phri. sic resert.  and subdue their City; or else that unfaithful Laomedon was justly punished for his perjury and discourtesy. Priamus quoque filius Laomedontis servitutem perpetuam seruisset, si non precio fuisset redemptus: etenim puer ab Hercule captus, cum Hesione sorore, pecunia solus redimi potuit, unde Priamus dictus, qui prius appellatus Podarces. Porrò si qua fortasse fuerunt ineo virtutis ornamenta, Paris tamen ab ijs deflexit, ad omnem libidinis turpitudinem. Also Priamus the son of Laomedon should have lived in perpetual servitude, if he had not been redeemed with money: for the boy being taken by Hercules, with his sister Hesione, could be redeemed no otherwise save only by ransom, wherefore he was ever after called Priamus, whose name was first Podarces. Furthermore, if he had any ornaments of virtue, yet Paris his son did clean digress from any such good quality, 
Libido Paridis.  to all filthiness of carnal pleasures. First it is to be remembered, that he violated most shamefully his vow made to Oenone, who before had saved his life; which otherwise by the consent of his own father had perished. After many such unfaithful parts, by the provocation of his own lecherous motion, whereunto he always was very apt and prone, and partly by the instigation of Priamus his father, to the intent he might cry quittance with the Greeks', who then held his sister Hesione captive, he sailed into Greece, where he was right Princely entertained by Menelaus' King of Lacedaemon, who right honourably banqueted and feasted both him and his companions. And for that the courteous King had not convenient leisure in his own person to welcome sir Paris, being at that time urgently forced to go into Crete, to take order and dispose the goods of old Atreus his father lately dead; he commanded Helena his beautiful Queen so entertain her guest in his absence, that he might both have use of his palace, country and subjects, with all other reverence to be done to him, at his own will and commandment: for which friendly entertainment and gentle courtesy, (he not digressing from the Troyans' his unfaithful progenitors) to requited the gentle King stole away from thence his wife Helena, 
Vxor Menelai rapta.  whom he entirely loved. But Menelaus, and the other angry Greekes not digesting such a proud and shameful rape, forthwith prepared a mighty and huge Army against the Troyans', minding to be revenged on their City and Country, for the abuse of that unfaithful lecher: insomuch that in the end, by reason of his filthy folly, both the aged king his father was cruelly slain, his Country ruinously wasted and spoiled, & the City of proud Troy most miserably burnt & defaced with the slaughter of many thousands of his Countrymen. Thus after Troy was thrice overthrown by the unfaithfulness of her own native people, and especially utterly destroyed in the last subversion, with the loss of the whole Empire by the unkind Citizens. 
Dares Phrigius. lib. 1. Et Dictis Crentensis. lib. 5.  For Aeneas (as Dictys Cretensis saith, who in the same war served against Troy, under the conduct of Idomeneus King of Crete, whose works at this day are extant) with the consent of old Anchises his father, and Antenor his confederate companion, yielded up and betrayed Troy, with their aged king into the hands of their enemies the Greeks', and by this faithless means, obtained life both for themselves, their wives children, alliances and families, at the hands of the Grecians, and suffered with bag and baggage freely to pass from the burning town and slaughtered heaps of their betrayed Countrymen. But now more rightly to decipher unfaithful Aeneas, whom Virgil oftentimes in his profane verses doth call Pius Aeneas: 
Virgilius. lib. 3. lib. 6. lib. 7.  as doth appear in the 3. book of the Aeneidos, saving, Parce pias scelerare manus non me tibs Troia, etc. And in the 6. book, Principuè pius Aeneas tum jussu Sibyllae. Also in the 7. book, At pius exequijs Aeneas ritè solutis, etc. First it is to be considered, that Aeneas was the only man that led doting Paris to that unadvised enterprise accompanying him into Lacedaemon. Then afterwards in the greatest extremity of his Countrymen (for safeguard of his own life) he betrayed the town, and was the chiefest instrument to bring aged Priamus to an untimely death, with all the whole Trojan State. For perceiving the Greeks' meant sharply to revenge themselves on the whole race of Priamus, for the vile abuse of Paris his lewd son, Aeneas having married Crusa one of the daughters of the said Priamus, then knowing the intent of the fierce Greeks', presently with willing consent committed his loving wife to the murdering enemy, that no let or impediment might be of his own escape. Notwithstanding Virgil always favouring wretched Aeneas because the Romans derive the pedigree from the fugitive Trojans, after a more cunninger sort saith, that he lost Crusa his wife in the burning town altogether against his will when he with his father and the rest of his family made haste to scape from the persecuting foe. 
Virgilius. lib. 1.  Also other of the Romans going about to hide the unfaithfulness of their predicessor, say thus of him, that at such time as Troy was taken by the Grecians: 
sed ficta romanorum.  Agamemnon their chief captain greatly pitying the perplexities and miseries of the Captives, made this general Proclamation in the Grecian tongue, that it should be lawful for every Citizen which was free, to convey and carry away with them some one thing or other, what they themselves would best like of, & most tenderly loved, Aeneas therefore contemning all other things of great value and estimation, carried out with him the gods of hospitality: which when the Greeks' beheld and considered the vertious & gracious inclination of the gentleman (as they say) gave him leave in like manner to take and choose one thing what be most made of among all his goods, riches, and possessions. Aeneas using the benefit of this their merciful grant▪ took his father being old and ancient upon his shoulders, and bore the burden of his body out of the City: whereat the Grecians being wonderfully astonished, left unto him the substance of all his wealth undiminished, adding these words importing a testimony of their opinion conceived towards him; Pietatem in homines & deos exercentibus, parentésque reverenter colentibus, etc. Such as behave themselves religiously toward the gods, and use themselves reverently to their parents, must of necessity make blunt the sharp edge of the ireful enemy. But this savoureth nothing of the truth; for Dictys Cretensis serving the Grecians against the Troyans' during all the war, to the intent that he should note the yearly adventures which fortuned; it is to be thought, that being a Grecian, and in all places setting forth the worthy praise of his Countrymen to the very uttermost, would never so stain the valour of the Greeks', as to say they could not take the Town by force, but were forced to use treacherous means to obtain their purpose. Notwithstanding it might have been suspected (although he had written that Troy was taken by the Greeks' by manly force and stout courage in despite of the Troyans') that then he had flattered the Greeks' his Countrymen, whose pen (most commonly) after the largest manner is given to set out their Country's glory: wherefore it is certainly to be believed, that Aeneas with his confederates was corrupted, and yielded up the town to the enemy, or else Dictys Cretensis would never so much have abased his Country men, 
Dictis & Dares, ita affirmunt.  as to affirm this. Tunc placitum est omnibus fidem dari, foedere firmari, jure iurando stringi, eo pacto ut si oppidum proxima nocte tradidissent, Aencae, Antenori, Vcaligoni, necnon liberis, coniugibus, propinquis, amicis, suisque omnibus fides seruaretur. Then Aeneas (as Dictys reporteth) being at a point with the Greeks' concerning the yielding up of the Town, firmly gave faith on all parts by solemn vow, being bound on this condition that if the next night they yielded their City to the Grecians, that then both Aeneas, Antenor, and Vcaligon, together with their Wives, Children, Families, Friends and Kindred, with all their goods and riches whatsoever, should be faithfully spared, and right carefully kept from hurt by any of the said Grecians, which plighted promise was on either part firmly observed; for the next night Troy was treacherously yielded up by Aeneas and his traitorous crew, 
Troia tradita Aenea.  and the Grecians (according to promise) spared the betrayers thereof. Notwithstanding the unfaithfulness of Aeneas was greatly noted by the Greeks', for when he had betrayed both his aged Prince, stately Empire & strong town, he could not be found faithful to the Grecians, but sought to flout and mock them, at whose hands he had obtained life and liberty; insomuch, that when Agamemnon and Pyrrhus the son of Achilles made diligent inquiry, and earnest search after Polixena daughter to Hecuba, who so vilely had dealt with noble Achilles, now minding sharply to revenge his father's death on that disloyal wretch, and therefore earnestly strived to find her out: Aeneas, who could neither be faithful to his friends nor enemies, sought out means to hide Polixena from the fury of Pyrrhus Achilles son; but fierce Pyrrhus not ceasing until he had found her out, in revengement of his father's death he cruelly sacrificed her on his tomb. For which unfaithful part of Aeneas (as Dictis Cretensis reporteth) Tunc Agamemnon iratus Aenea, 
Dares lib. 1  quòd Polixenam absconderat, cum omnibus suis à patria protinus discedere jubet: that then Agamemnon king of the Greeks', being greatly angry with Aeneas, for that he had hidden out of the way fair Polixena, by whose unfaithful means his good companion noble Achilles was untimely slain, 
Inconstantia Aeneae.  for which cause he presently commanded him to departed out of the Country, and for that he before had promised him both lands, goods and all other things whatsoever were known to be his own, he forthwith compelled him to take whatsoever him best liked, & also to bestow his lands at his own pleasure, for there he should no longer stay. Thus after Aeneas had betrayed his Country, he himself with the other rabble rout of his treacherous companions were forced to wander at sea, attending what destiny would bestow on them, spoiling & robbing in divers coasts and countries where he landed; in the end, chancing on the country of Africa, he took land at new built Carthage, 
Vt Romani ipsi confirmant.  where Dido (otherwise called Elisa) was Queen & governess, there being by her right friendly received, willing both him and his company to use her Country as their own possessions, repairing his shaken ships, giving freely all necessaries to the whole number of his wandering companions, commanding that nothing should be wanting, that might pleasure the distressed Troyans', herself oftentimes using to welcome her wearied guest, whereby she fell in love with the comely parsonage of beautiful Aeneas, even so far as plighted vow on both parts could assure them, Aeneas faithfully promising continual stay and abode in her Country; but being a Trojan he could not digress from his unfaithful progenitors, for thorough his disloyal heart and wandering mind, he privily by night stole away from Carthage, leaving the pensive and sorrowful Queen in the lurch, and to hold herself to her own harms, for which unfriendly part, seeing herself so deluded and mocked by the unfaithful Phrygian, presently slew herself for very grief, which she had conceived, thorough his unsteadfast promise. Notwithstanding the Romans still favouring their predecessor do affirm, to hide that unfaithful part, that Aeneas was warned in his sleep to departed from thence, 
Ficta à Romanis.  and seek out a land which the gods themselves had predestinated to him and his issue, meaning, by Italy, which he after won by force. Thus when he was departed from Carthage, and had spoiled and rob divers other coasts and Countries, at the last landed in Italy, where thorough corruption by gifts, cruel threats, by menacing means, and also by fair promises and allurements, he made such discord and dissension in the Country of Italy, whereby great slaughters of people were horribly committed, insomuch, that in the end he attained unto the Diadem and Crown of the whole Country, firmly establishing himself in the kingdom, which he by force had taken from the quiet Princes thereof, there reigning king until he died, whose death the Romans seeming to hide, for that (as they say) he descended from the goddess Venus, wherefore he was taken up into Heaven and there placed amongst the Stars for ever to reign immortal. 
Vetus Pro●erbium. Malicorui, malum owm.  Then after the death of this unfaithful fugitive, his son Ascanius reigned also; after whose decease Silvius Posthumus, his son succeeded, who (as both the Romans and Englishmen do affirm) begat Brutus, who slew Posthumus his father, for which cause being vanished Italy, when he had troubled divers other quiet countries, at the last took land in the isle, which then was called Albion, of one of the thirty daughters of Dioclesian, which landed here by chance, and named it Brittany, staying the huge and mighty Giants, whom the devils themselves had begotten on Dioclesian's daughters as the English histories at this day reporteth; a foolish toy for the inhabitants of this noble I'll, to derive themselves, and fetch their pedigree from devils, and then after from the gods. First to confute this foolish error; It is most certainly known, that there was no such king in Syria, who was called by the name of Dioclesian, for that no ancient Author of the Syrians make mention of any such name, neither of his daughters, which as the English Chronicles at this day affirm, were put into a small vessel or boat by their father Dioclesian, and committed to Sea without either pilot or guide, chancing to land in this isle, naming it after one of their names, who was called Albion, as the fond saying goeth; and then forsooth, this Isle being inhabited with devils, at their first arriving, the sisters were carnally known by the devils themselves, and thereof did spring mighty and huge Giants which afterwards were slain by Brutus, who descended from the gods, as they also affirm. Which vain opinion in like sort, is both ridiculous and foolish, for that neither the Commentaries of julius Caesar, the works of Cornelius Tacitus, nor the Histories of Diodorus Siculus, who did write of this noble I'll, made any mention at all of any such Brutus, being descended from the Trojans, neither do the Romans themselves, nor the Greeks' writ of any one called Brutus, before julius Brutus, who did expel Tarqvinius out of Rome, which was long since the time of Silvius Posthumus. It is also to be considered, that if julius Caesar, who made a conquest of this isle a thousand and five hundred years since, had then known, that the people thereof had descended from the Trojans, as both himself and all the other Romans did, no doubt, he would not have made war against this land, but rather have sought to aid and secure it. But the vanity of the English nation is such to derive their genealogy from the Troyans', for that (as I have said before) they sprang and descended from the gods, or else to fetch their original from Albion, who brought forth huge giants by the help of devils, so that they must, there is no remedy, either descend from the gods, or else from the devils themselves: this folly first sprang up amongst the Romans, who challenged their pedigree from the Troyans', which, as they say, descended from the gods; and in like sort the Englishemens, to the intent they would spring from the gods as well as the Romans, feign that Brutus son to Posthumus one of the Trojan stock arrived in this isle, and named it after his own name Brytannia: which truly, in mine opinion, can not be true, for that his name was Brutus, which, if you mark it, is altogether unlike unto Britannia: and to mend the matter also, they affirm, that first they sprang of devils, a goodly commendation to this noble I'll. But for that the proud Romans thorough their vaunting vanity, did derive themselves from the gods, which they right well knew were but earthly kings, for that the heathen kings in those days were called gods: notwithstanding, since the corruption of the time, both the Romans and the Englishmen think that they are lineally descended from the gods themselves, for otherwise the Romans would not be so proud and stately, as at this day they are wellknowne to be, nor the Englishmen so vain to challenge their pedigree, or recount their genealogy from the most wicked Troyans', unless they were fully persuaded, that the Troyans' came from the immortal gods; which foolish opinion first sprang from the Romans by overmuch esteeming their progenitors. Which fond and vain errors to confute, divers learned men are of this opinion, by studious seeking out of the works of ancient historiographers, that the Greeks' when first their Cities became populous, waxing rich and puissant, after they knew the cunning Art of Sailing, first of all other people found out this Isle naming it Olbion, which in Greek is happy, for the abundance of all things necessary that they found there, therefore no doubt but that in so long a time as hath been since Olbion, by the corruption of the continuance might well he called Albion: or else they at that time finding this land by the white rocks and cliffs, with which the Isle was environed withal, named it Albion▪ ab albis rupibus, and also Britania of Britaniae, which are the Isles that lie in the Ocean, and not Britania of Brutus, the supposed Trojan. And so this noble Isle may be known to spring and descend from the valiant Greeks', who suppressed the perjured Trojans, and beat down their proud town, which they by unfaithfulness had builded; and not to come from that wicked race, who always were the chief cause of their own destruction, and procurers of their fatal destiny by their perjury, unfaithful dealing, churlish conditions, and unsatiable lechery, as the whole world at this day doth witness against them, to the everlasting reproach of their line and Successors.  

Expressed by way of apparition, touching the manifold miseries, wonderful calamities, and lamentable chances that happened to her unfortunate self, sometime Queen of stately Troy.  

WHen that Aurora's dews were passed, and Phoebus did decline,  
And purple Titan ready priest with fainting light to shine.  
When Cynthia did press in place to run her compass round,  
And feeblely did show her face with duskish light on ground.  
Then walked I to silent grove my fancy to delight,  
Where willingly I meant to bide to pass the pensive night.  
Sweet silence there her sound did yield, no noise did me molest:  
All chirping notes were wished at once, each breathing soul did rest.  
Amidst the hollow grove I passed to ease my musing mind,  
But no redress of doleful dumps I any where could find:  
Until at last I viewed the skies where lucent lights abound:  
And down again mine eyes direct upon the human ground.  
Then did I shake from sobbing soul the griping grief and pain,  
That long before had me oppressed, but now revived again.  
Within the grove a pleasant stream with bubbling note did flow,  
Which I by chance had soon found out from hollow banks below.  
There musing by the running tide and soundings of the deep:  
The sliding floods that smoothly pass had hushed me soon asleep.  
And as I slept on greenish shore, by help of warbling streams  
Strange fearful fancies frighted me, by dreadful drowsy dreams.  
In slumber sound me thought I spied a wight both fierce and fell:  
A thing despised, in viler sort no creature was in hell.  
A woman vexed with eager looks in frantic fiery mood.  
With clapping hands and rolling eyes uncertainly she stood.  
She ran about with flaring hair, much like to horses stout,  
When sudden fright had pierced their minds, with strutting tails did strut.  
Even so or worse she roude about with head and shoulders bare:  
And oftentimes from senseless pate her pendant locks she tore  
With bloody nails and hands imbrued, her palms she oft did smite:  
And reaching for the heavens, as though she to the Gods had spite.  
With ireful cries and fearful notes the hollow grove did sound:  
In yelling sort from gulled banks the ditties did rebound.  
Like mighty bulls that fiercely meets, and fills with noise the skies.  
And for a token of their wrath the dusty gravel flies,  
By tearing up of earth, so she in such like frantic fits  
Doth snatch up grass in griping hands, as one beside her wits.  
Still stalking on, until at last she found me where I were:  
Thus fancy fed my dreadful dream with grievous gripes of fear.  
But when that she approached near, and stood me by, at length  
Me thought my trembling joints did quake, to fly I had no strength.  
With starting steps I sought to fly, to shun that fearful sight:  
But all in vain I oft assayed to save myself by flight.  
My fainting feet did often fail by striving still to start:  
No forced pace would aught prevail, or suffer to departed.  
Thus still me thought amid my dream (as one that were in maze)  
With quaking corpse and hair upright full still I stood at gaze.  
For fear my faltering tongue did stay, I durst her not behold,  
Until at last with friendly cheer she said, my friend be bold.  
I wish to thee no harm at all, wherefore be not dismayed:  
But call to mind thy frighted sense, and be thou not afraid.  
Ne marvel why though I disguised, have furiously been vexed:  
In raging sort so strange to thee for that I am perplexed  
In mind and soul, to think how far fell Fortune hath abused  
Both me and mine in spiteful sort, when haughty Gods refused  
To secure us in greatest need, she turned her face and frowned,  
Who long had smiled, but now gave help to crowd us to the ground.  
Wherefore good friend, quoth she, give ear and mark what I shall tell.  
Lift up thy mind, be not dismayed, and note my speeches well:  
For I must needs declare the cause to ease my pensive breast  
Of hapless hap that Fate assigned, and then in hope to rest.  
With that me thought I banished fear, and quaking limbs revived.  
I courage took again afresh, of which I was deprived.  
Then boldly thus I said at last, what madness doth possess  
Thy vexed soul? Be sure if that thy pain I may redress,  
To find some ease of this thy grief or else I were unkind:  
Therefore be short, to ease thy smart, and let me know thy mind.  
It pities me to see the plight of thy distressed state,  
And makes me shrink at all to guess on this thy heavy fate:  
For that no fiend that comes from hell could any more lament  
Their perverse lot for wickedness and sins already spent,  
Than thou hast here before my face with bouncing blows and cries,  
Whereat the caves reverberate, and Echo rolls in skies.  
But now dispatch, show me thy mind, if so to ease thy grief  
Thou think it best: I am content that way to give relief.  
Then she began to show her mind, and tell her grief forepast  
With grievous groans in woeful wise, these words she spoke at last.  
If ever any woeful wight had cause to rue her fate,  
And plead with tears her heavy hap for change of her estate:  
Myself have just cause to bewail my state which I thought sure.  
But woe is me unhappy wretch, what joy doth aye endure?  
On Fortune fell I do complain, the cause of my mishap,  
That thus hath dealt with me alas, when first within her lap  
She lulled full sweet, and used right well▪ and then ere that I witted  
Did tumble down from top of throne, thus judas like she kissed.  
She lifted me so high above my mates and fellows all,  
For that more grievous when I fell she meant to make my fall.  
But would from beggar's brood at first my chance had been so good  
To spring, and that I had been borne and bred of meanest blood,  
Then would the world not so have mused to see my sudden chance  
To fall so low, whom Fortune erst so highly did advance.  
Yet give me leave to ease my mind although I wish in vain:  
For now 'tis passed by wishing I do ease my pining pain.  
The truth is thus, I did descend from Cysseus that king  
A mighty Prince of Thrace well known, whose praise each where did ring.  
And from his house I higher stepped to highest place of state:  
For Pryamus the king of Troy did take me for his mate.  
Who was the stately Emperor of Asia, and there  
Amongst the haughty Phrygians the diadem did wear.  
Then Queen was I of flaunting Troy. The Trojans all rejoice  
That Priamus their Lord and king had made of me his choice.  
There many noble sons had I, the world doth witness bear:  
No Nation under heaven that day with me durst once compare  
In valour with so many sons by one brought forth to sight:  
Each people on the earth as yet will yield to them their right;  
That for so many brethren, as I brought forth (poor Queen)  
I say again that never since by any hath been seen.  
And that I mean to prophesy, wherefore I dare be bold  
To say the like will never be while heaven and earth doth hold.  
But for because I would not wish thou shouldst my name mistake:  
Whom Greekes and Romans long ago in doleful verse did make  
The world to know, and now myself shall verify the same:  
Who called me old Hecuba, so truly was my name,  
A wretched wight too old indeed, for that I lived so long,  
To scape the fire that burned Troy, to suffer further wrong:  
O would to God I then had died, when Pryamus my mate  
By Pyrrhus' sword received the wound, but now I wish too late,  
Fell destiny denied me that and spared me for the nonce,  
To plague me with a thousand woes, ten thousand all at once.  
But first to tell my fatal hap, and orderly proceed  
To show, how that the angry gods against me had decreed  
And vowed, I think, by one consent to work me double woe,  
Or else I never so had died to please my spiteful foe,  
As after thou shalt know: but first I wish to ease my mind,  
In showing how that destiny and hapless fate assigned  
To me poor wretch such mischief vile, as none did ever taste  
Before nor since, though long ago my miseries were passed:  
For first within my body I, to my great pain, did bear  
And nourish up the fruit which was the cause of all my care,  
With child I was, but then unknown what fruit I forth should bring  
To joy myself, or else to please old Priam's Trojan king  
My loving mate, who used me well, wherefore I wished to please  
His quiet mind, by my good will, that we might live at ease:  
But see how froward fortune frowned, a dream did me molest,  
And fearful fright did trouble me when I was laid to rest,  
Me thought I was delivered of such a fearful sight,  
For all was fire which I brought forth, and flamed as fire bright,  
With fury great the fire waxed, with flames the air did stream:  
Thus doubtful dump, by fright did pierce my breast in dreadful dream.  
When that I wakde I told the king, how Morpheus had dealt  
With me in sleep, and further how what agony I felt,  
Who presently to oracle would have no nay, but sent  
To know what by this fiery flame and dreadful dream was meant,  
The dream resolved, the Oracle, for answer did return,  
That I a son should bear, and he should cause strong Troy to burn  
With fire bright, and for his cause old Pryamus his sire,  
And I his mother should behold our town to burn with fire,  
And all our people slain down right in fight for his sake  
A mighty foe for his abuse should sharp revengement take.  
Which to prevent the father sought, to slay his harmless boy,  
For that he thought some mischief might by his means hap to Troy,  
And for because the Oracle on him unborn, did give  
Such sentence which did fright his sire, wherefore he might not live,  
That when his son was borne, forthwith the father did betake  
The child unto a trusty friend, that he away might make  
The boy which well I loud, but yet such pity did remain  
Within my breast, that I reserved my son which should be slain,  
And closely spoke unto the man, that he my child should spare,  
And tell the king, at his return, that cruel beasts did tear  
The tender limbs of his young son: wherefore he now was free  
From such suspect as erst before the Oracle did see.  
The aged King was then content, and thought all things were well,  
He feared not the prophesy which these things first did tell:  
Thus did I breed and foster up even him that did destroy  
Both parents, friends and country kind, and sought our great annoy,  
The lad did live with heard in field, and shortly up was grown,  
So that he for King Priam's son by secret signs was known,  
Then was the youth called home again, and Priam was content  
To take him for his son, and did his former act repent.  
But when sir Paris came to Court, for so we called his name,  
The doting boy began to love and follow Venus' game,  
inquiring oft when fame would bring news of a peerless piece  
And passing dame, which that ere long had tidings thus from Greece,  
That there the flower of all the world six Menelaus held,  
The like to her on all the earth no Nation then could yield:  
For whom unknown my son did dote, in such exceeding sort,  
That he to Greece by sea would pass, to see if that report  
Had blazed a truth: but first before to Grecian soil he went,  
He craved of me and Priamus, to yield him our consent:  
Then ships were built on seas to sail, king Priam willed it so,  
And mates for him were picked out, and hence to Greece they go,  
At Lacedaemon he at length, a place of Greece so called  
Arrived, and in their safest roads, his weary ships in halld  
By Menelaus his consent, who forthwith did invite  
The Trojans all unto his court, suspecting no such spite  
As after did betide, for that sir Paris did convey  
Fair Helen thence, his loving wife, and so without delay  
Did hose up sail, and speedy winds did send him soon to Troy,  
Where many of his friends did wait to welcome his new joy.  
But Helen thus conveyed from Greece, the angry Greeks' wax mad,  
To see how Paris played his pranks, when Menelaus had  
Received his guest in frankest sort, and did him friendly use,  
Whose courtesy to recompense, the lecher did abuse  
His honest host by spiteful rape, in stealing of his wife,  
Which hateful cause did soon procure sharp war and deadly strife:  
Yet first the Greeks', I must confess, like honest minded men  
Did send to Troy, to have again fair Helena which then  
Was brought to Troy, and their demand, to end the bloody iaerre,  
Which likely were to follow fast, and turn to deadly war.  
But Priam he, with his fierce sons their lawful suit denied,  
For which the Greeks', to take revenge to Priam's Kingdoms hied:  
From Greece they sail to Phrygia land, which haughty Priam held,  
And there arrived in dreadful sort well armed with spear and shield:  
The war began great slaughter was, for mighty Mars did reign:  
Full fierce they fought for ten years space, yet neither party gain,  
Such loss there was on either side in lamentable sort,  
That Phrygia soil did flow with blood, the world can give report.  
When Phrygia thus was overrun by Grecians over stout,  
Unto the Trojan walls they marchde and compassed it about,  
Where Priam held his stately court, not passing of their spite,  
Nor fearing future hap at all, but still maintained fight,  
Where from the top of stately walls we daily might behold  
Right near our sight the slaughters great of Trojan youth full bold,  
And Greeks' likewise on every side the Trojans fierce did daunt,  
They lay on heaps wherefore as yet they justly could not vaunt  
Nor brag, for that their mighty peers in bloody broil were slain,  
Wherefore to end the war begun to sue did not disdain  
To have fair Helen back again, for whom this war begun,  
And eke to boot they offer made young Polidore my son,  
Whom Polymnestor King of Thrace had to the Greeks betrayed,  
When Priam first had placed him there, in hope of better aid:  
For when we knew the Greeks' did mind to make sharp war with Troy,  
To Polymnestor King of Thrace, we sent our youngest boy,  
A mighty mass, and treasure great with this our son we sent,  
In hope to keep him free from war, and from the Greeks' intent:  
But then the Thracian King betrayed (O vile disloyal wretch)  
The harmless lad unto the Greeks', this was the traitors fetch,  
To hold the coin which then he had, and so to yield the child  
Unto the Greeks' for lucre's sake, lo thus we were beguiled,  
Which boy the Grecians brought to Troy, and made request again,  
That Helen Menelaus wife in Troy might not remain  
But be restored, than Polidore from their hands should be free,  
And we our son might have again, and war should ended be:  
But if in case that we denied, and Helen did detain,  
Then Polidore for brother's fault should presently be slain.  
Old Pryamus would not consent that Helen back should go,  
But held perforce the wanton wench in spite of proudest foe,  
And willed them for to do their worst, for Helen meant to bide,  
Wherefore he would not yield her up what ever might be tied.  
It well was known unto the Greeks', that Priam bade her choose  
To stay in Troy, or go to Greece, which she did flat refuse,  
And forbecause she willing was with Paris to be still,  
He would by no means send her back against her own good will.  
Then sent he word to Grecian camp, if that they had decreed  
His son should die, his other sons should make them rue the deed,  
And that the fields of Troy should flow with gory blood full fast,  
Until the Grecians did repent their enterprised haste.  
But now alas began my woe, my sorrow did increase,  
For never day from this time forth mine eyes from tears did cease,  
O Polidore my youngest boy, sweet Polidore my son  
From Trojan walls I did behold how fast the Grecians run  
To do thee wrong, my harmless child, and mighty stones did bring  
Thick thronging fast with fury great, at Polidore they sling,  
Who sure was tied at fastened stake, which I from Trojan wall  
Might well behold how bouncing blows did make my child to sprawl,  
Not ceasing till my son were slain, nor then, but still did smite  
The bruised bones of my sweet boy within his mother's sight:  
O hellish plague, O torture vile, me think I see it still,  
How Grecians raging mad did strike, the harmless soul to kill,  
With wring hands I looked on, yet loath to see him die,  
I turned my back, and straight again I could not choose but pry  
For this my son, who bleeding lay so bobde with weighty stones,  
The flesh with blows was mangled so, each man might see the bones,  
Yet would mine eyes have passage still to this his carcase dead,  
Till that my living sons from top of Trojan walls had lead  
Their mother down, whose folding feet her body could not stay:  
Which they perceived, so that from thence me wretch they did convey.  
To Grecian camp a messenger we did command to trudge,  
To crave the body of my son, which thing they did not grudge,  
But sent the martyred corpse to Troy, as custom did require,  
They said not nay but granted strait when Priam did desire.  
And also did a present send to breed me further woe:  
The bloody stones that killed my son on me they did bestow.  
Whose blood and brains in ugly sort about the stones was seen:  
A homely present to be sent to me most wretched Queen.  
Then shrined we up with weeping tears, our son so vilely slain,  
And put the stones in tomb with him, for ever to remain.  
His brother's mad with this mischance, for battle strong provide:  
And to revenge their brother slain to Grecian Camps they hide.  
Where from the walls we had in view such cruel sturdy fight,  
That mighty men to death were sent, thus battle reigned downright.  
The Greeks' by thousands fell to ground, their people go to wrack:  
And that ere long the Trojans stout by Greeks' are beaten back.  
Thus Fortune plays in double sort, sometime with us to stand,  
And then to fly to tother part, and give the upper hand.  
But while that Hector lived in Troy, king Priam's eldest son,  
The proudest Peer that came from Greece his mighty hand would shun,  
And fly the field before him fast, they feared so his name:  
So fierce he fought amongst their men, each Greek doth know the same.  
At last my lot was so extreme to see him likewise die:  
In turret top from lofty town his death I did espy.  
For when as he had slain that day in mighty battle strong,  
Of kingly Peers the chief of all that oft had done us wrong.  
And there amongst the rest he had a noble Grecian slain,  
Whose armour all was beaten gold, which pray he went to gain:  
And drew him up upon his steed, and road forth of the throng,  
And for his better ease his shield upon his back he slong.  
While he did spoil him of his weeds, careless of any wight,  
His naked breast unarmed then Achilles had in sight  
How he was busy, and therefore from covert where he lay  
By stealing steps behind his back he took the ready way,  
And suddenly with fatal spear ere that he could advert,  
He unawares with fury great thrust Hector to the heart.  
Thus died he thorough avarice, whom thousands could not kill,  
Until his wilful foolishness himself did fond spill.  
Myself, I say, that time did see from top of lofty towers,  
The Trojan fields besprinkled with dew of bloody showers,  
That Hector's lance had let out, but now his latest fate  
I soon had spied, and did lament to see the woeful state  
Of this king Priam's eldest son, and eke my chiefest joy:  
For well I witted that while he lived no harm could hap to Troy.  
But now Achilles overcrowed him whom he feared before:  
Wherefore he stabbeth him thoroughly that he might live no more.  
I saw, I saw how Hector lay as dead as any stone:  
And yet the tyrant would not leave but mighty blows laid on.  
For if my son had been alive and armed for to fight:  
Achilles durst not come in place, nor once be seen in sight.  
But when by chance my naked son Achilles' lance had paid,  
The eager Greeke to lay on load was nothing then afraid.  
When noble Hector thus was dead, yea dead, and dead again,  
Achilles then to spoil my son began to take some pain.  
I saw how that he handled him, I could not look beside:  
And if I did, yet strait again my sight that way would glide.  
The tyrant vile, the bedlam beast his carcase would not spare,  
Who was a man, a valiant man, his noble mind was rare.  
Another of king Priam's sons that day was caught in fight,  
Whose hands chopped off the Greeks sent home to work us further spite.  
And wild him thus to say in Troy, and tell his aged sire  
That Hector now by Grecian lance was paid his earned hire.  
And that Achilles had no doubt but Paris so to slay,  
Who was the cause of all that war, and bred that bloody day.  
Thus came my son with loss of hands before his mother's face,  
To tell how Greeks' had dealt with him, a lamentable case.  
And how that Hector now was dead, whom Troyans soon should miss:  
Which was no news for that before mine eyes had seen all this.  
And while my boy besmearde with blood his heavy hap did wail,  
A servant came and showed us how Achilles vile did hale  
Dead Hector round about the walls in all the Trojans sight:  
Which was because his friends should see, as easily they might  
His naked corpse in mire drawn at horses tail fast tied:  
And that the doer of the same before did vaunting ride.  
Then came I to the wall to see slain Hector so misused:  
From whence I cried for that I knew the Greeks' had him abused  
Who was king Priam's eldest son wherefore against all law  
In cruel sort to spite his friends, his carcase dead to draw.  
With that I strained my voice and said, Achilles, let me have  
My son whom thou hast slain, that I may send him to his grave.  
But he for all my mournful cries, full fierce without remorse:  
Did hale my naked son about the Trojan walls perforce.  
Which when his aged sire be held, from top of lofty wall  
For grief conceived did yield himself in desperate wise to fall  
Down headlong from the turret's height, if friends had him not stayed:  
And thronged about to secure him who then had need of aid.  
But when at last he did perceive Achilles' cruel heart,  
With beckoning hand he spoke aloud, Be sure for this hard part,  
If that I live, thou shalt repent, and Gods the same will grant  
Thy wicked act: and that ere long, vile wretch, thou shalt not vaunt  
Of this despiteful fact, wherefore I wish thee to restore  
My slaughtered son, as I have done thy slaughtered Greeks before.  
Yet would not fierce Achilles cease from doing Hector wrong:  
For round about the Trojan walls he hauled our son along.  
And thus did still for four days space even in his parent's sight  
To work our woe, for well he witted he could not Hector spite  
Who then was dead, whose gaping jaws the dirt and gravel filled.  
Whose whighish skin the muddy mire with filthy spots had held.  
His beard besmeared with stinking filth, to eyes and face did clung  
Such loathsome stuff as filthy Greeks with dirty fists had fling.  
Was this a sight for parents eye to view their loving child  
In such a case as he was then amongst his foes so wild?  
O hapless hap, O Fortune vile, what woman could abide  
Such pangs of woe from sobbing soul as did to me beside?  
We did not cease to sue for grace at proud Achilles' feet  
In yielding wise, to have our son, although it were not meet  
A mighty king should stoop so low unto so mean as state,  
For that unto the Trojan king Achilles was no mate.  
But yet for all king Priam's suit, when he did what he might,  
The tyrant would not yield as yet our son should have his right  
Of funeral, nor that his bones should rest in silent grave:  
When we had made such humble suit his mangled corpse to have.  
Unburied thus he kept him still for twelve days space at least:  
Whose flesh was torn, and then did will the dogs should have the rest.  
Which when I heard, a hell of woes did plague me then alive.  
O death (quoth I) my loathed life from miseries deprive,  
Let not me live to call to mind this Fortune's froward spite,  
Nor see the day wherein again such heavy hap may light.  
Yet still in hope to have his corpse, Polixena I sent  
My daughter fair to Grecian camp and to Achilles' tent.  
Who there on knees with wring hands before Achilles' face  
With brinish tears made humble suit, to find as then such grace,  
As that he would as then restore the corpse of this her brother slain.  
And for which cause to pleasure him she ever would remain  
His servant base, or bondslave vile, to satisfy his mind.  
For which, if that it pleased him well, she then would stay behind  
To be a faithful servant true to him at all assays:  
And pray the Gods to prosper him, and send him happy days.  
With that Achilles stepped forth, and gave to her his hand:  
In courteous wise he greeted her, and wild her up to stand  
Before his face, and wail no more, and then as she thought best  
He was content it should be so, and granted her request.  
This did my daughter bring to pass such was her peerless hew  
That she a second Helen was within Achilles' view.  
When Priamus and Hector's wife before had tried in vain,  
And I myself with weeping tears the like could not obtain.  
Her beauty so did qualify the tyrant's wrathful ire,  
That Hector's corpse was brought by her home to her aged sire.  
Then did I mourn afresh, to see there laid before my face  
The ugly shape of my sweet son in such a woeful case  
That Hector's face I could not know although I knew his name.  
For Hecuba his mother I before had given the same,  
Whose corpse once washed, full well I knew the favour of my child.  
But pale aspect did alter much, that near I was beguiled.  
Twelve days at least my son had lain abroad in open air:  
What time till now to have again we ever did despair.  
The funerals and other rites in order allwell done:  
We did provide the money, which redeemed this our son.  
For first before my daughter had the thing she did desire,  
Achilles he a certain sum of money did require.  
Which thing before he had refused, though massy sums were sent:  
But for her sake and such a sum he seemed well content.  
The money now without delay we sent away in haste:  
And willingly did pay the same for daughters promise past.  
O wretch most vile, O tyrant bad, that thus with Hector dealt:  
What stonied heart in brawned breast would this not make to melt?  
The cause of this his fury great, and of such cruel hate  
Was by Patroclus hapless death, who was his loving mate,  
Whom Hector slew in open fight, with many a Greek that day,  
And spoiled him of his armour bright, that naked there he lay,  
Which armour was the chiefest cause that brought him to his end,  
The angry gods displeased with us such hapless hap did send.  
All things thus done, my other sons revenge did vow to take,  
On vile Achilles for this deed, and for slain Hector's sake,  
That presently upon the Greeks' with mighty force they went,  
And thousands on each part that day to dreadful death were sent.  
Thus daily they did still contend by force of cruel war,  
And Princes fell on either side, that thither came from far:  
The Greeks' did wax, the Trojans grew as desperate men in field,  
To daunt each others haughty mind, and make each other yield:  
At last again as fortune would Achilles fierce did slay  
My other son, sir Troilus, who was our chiefest stay.  
A valiant youth the Greeks' can tell, although he thus did die,  
For that before the proudest Greekes he forced had to fly.  
In turret's tall from top of town, my hap was still so bad,  
To see my loving son to die, a woeful sight most sad  
For mother's eye still to behold her loving children so  
To end their days, and be abused by such a spiteful so,  
From lofty walls I then beheld sir Troilus my son,  
To coarse the Greeks' on every side, and made them fast to run,  
Until that fierce Achilles came, who sure I think was borne  
To breed my woe, and that the gods against me wretch had sworn  
To plague with hellish torments vile, the plagues of furthest hell  
Should hap to me, and greater pains than any tongue can tell,  
For that what time soever I on walls did see the fight  
Some child of mine was sure to die, within his mother's sight.  
When now to turret's top I climbed with many Ladies more,  
Whereto I did not once ascend, since Hector died before:  
But then too soon such was my chance, I think the gods decreed,  
That while I did behold the fight no better they should speed.  
Achilles brave, on horse did mount, whom Troilus had spied  
To brag amongst the Greeks', his mates, well mand on every side:  
But when my son had found his foe, and thought on Hector's foil,  
Like mighty Mars he laid on load, and made that day great spoil:  
He thrust amongst the thicest throng Achilles out to find,  
That he might know his brother's death, as yet he had in mind.  
With couched lance and courage good, my son did run amain  
In hope to have by manly force his cruel foe there slain,  
He missed the mark, but yet he struck Achilles from his steed,  
And if the Greeks' had not given aid, he then had done the deed:  
And yet for all the Greeks' could do, he gave his foe a wound  
Thorough plated thigh, he thrust his lance a handful in the ground.  
Achilles horsde by help of Greeks', and mounted up anew,  
And then with troop of armed Knights my son he did pursue:  
The wounded Greek that followed fast, sir Troilus had spied,  
Who turned his horse, and willed his mates his fury to abide,  
With monstrous force, the Greeks' did fight, the Trojans did not fly  
On either side to lay it on, the people fiercely cry:  
At last the Greeks' had given the horse that then my son did bear  
A mortal wound, that pained him so, the jade did fiercely far,  
In plunging sort, the horse did play with mighty girds, at last  
From settled seat my hapless son the winsing jade had cast:  
In falling down (ah heavy chance) his foot the stirrup held,  
The wounded horse so scared before, ran raging in the field,  
And dragged my child before my face upon the bloody ground,  
For blood did flow that day full fresh from many a mortal wound.  
Achilles having spied my son in such a woeful case,  
With piercing spear to him half dead, he hied him then apace,  
Through back and side his lance he sent, and cried, I now am quit  
With this my wound received before, and therewithal did hit  
The staggering horse that down he fell, and there together lay  
Both man and horse: thus fortune vile her froward pranks did play.  
Sir Troilus by chance thus slain, the Greeks' from armour stripped,  
Whose bowels hung about his feet, for they his body ripped,  
And naked on a gibe they hang for Trojans there to see  
Their champion stout whom erst before had made the Greeks' to flee▪  
old Pryamus and I beheld our loving son so kind  
In ugly sort to hang on high stark naked in the wind,  
Whose corpse did wave in swinging-sort which way each wind did blow:  
And as he hung, the angry Greeks' at him great stones did throw,  
Their spears did pass through senseless corpse, before him slain they vaunt,  
So fierce the fools his carcase dead with bitter words did taunt:  
Hang here (quoth they) thou wicked wretch, and rue thy brother's deed,  
If he by Grecian fist be caught, no better shall he speed,  
For causing of this bloody war that many thousands rue  
Their hapless chance, but he himself we trust shall have his due,  
And that ere long, wherefore till then feel thou his earned smart:  
We Greekes do hope that Paris proud shall rue his wilful part.  
These words we heard, this sight we see, the Greeks' like mad men rage,  
They threaten still for Paris deed, sharp war with us to wage.  
A sight full strange, yet not so rare for fortune did present  
More harder haps to me than this, to plague me she was bend.  
A messenger we sent to crave the carcase of our child,  
Whose bones were broke and skin from flesh, with blows the Greeks had held  
Achilles strait, did send my son which something pleased my mind,  
I did not think such courtesy at his hands then to find.  
But with my son to comfort me, these loving words did send  
My friend (quoth he) tell Hecuba, that oft I do intend,  
Such gifts on her for to bestow to breed her further joy:  
Till such time serve, wish her to take of me this mangled boy.  
Thus Troilus was brought to Troy, a heavy sight God knows,  
His body foul disfigured with many bloody blows:  
They laid him down before my face that mother's eyes might see  
Her son whom fierce Achilles used with such extremity,  
His martyred corpse I did entomb, though part were left behind  
Which Grecian jades did tread to dirt, yet all that I could find,  
To grave was sent: the funerals and all things else well done,  
The Trojans all in woeful wise do much lament my son,  
That all the town with howlings sound each one did wail his fill:  
Him dead, I know it was in vain, but that did show good will.  
Now did the Greeks' afresh begin the Trojans to suppress,  
And they as fierce did fight it out, in hope to have redress  
Of former wrongs, but all in vain, for Hector now was gone,  
And Troilus my other son, wherefore there was not one  
Alive in Troy, that durst presume Achilles once to meet,  
Who thus had slain my noble sons, and crowded under feet,  
The bravest peer of Troy that durst encounter with his force,  
With Grecian lance he threw to ground, thus had he no remorse,  
But still did strive by martial force to beat the Trojans down,  
And eagerly maintained fight in hope to sack our town,  
My sons thus slain the war increased, and bloody sight did grow,  
No Trojan durst within my sight encounter this my foe,  
So that before our walls he marchde with glistering spear and shield  
Like mighty Mars, he oft did dare the Trojans to the field,  
Which made me woe to see him reign that thus with me had dealt,  
Whose cruel hand (to our great loss) the hapless Trojans felt:  
A counsel then of matrons wise I presently did call,  
How to revenge my slaughtered sons, to counsel strait we fall,  
That fierce Achilles might not vaunt of this his cruel deed:  
Together than we laid our heads, in such a time of need,  
We thus conclude, that best it were, Achilles to ensnare  
With some fine piece of Venus' Court, whose beauty should be rare:  
And forbecause the Greek well known, to love a dainty piece,  
Which I had spied, for that before he sailed home to Greece  
When Agamemnon took away sweet Briseis his delight,  
No longer then, he would abide, nor for the Greeks' did fight:  
Till Briseis was again restored, which thing I well did note,  
And was right glad that beauty fair could make my foe to dote.  
And forbecause Polixena his sight did well content,  
When she to fetch her brother's corpse, to Grecian camp was sent,  
So that at first he fraunted her, when we before had nay,  
And whatsoever she did crave was done without delay.  
Which well I witted, wherefore forthwith my daughter I bedecked  
With gorgeous gear in hope to bring my purpose to effect,  
And presently to Grecian camps a messenger I send  
Unto Achilles tent to show what then I did intend:  
Which messenger I did command his errand thus to tell  
That Hecuba the Queen of Troy, Achilles greeted well:  
And further, that he should declare, Achilles should enjoy  
My daughter fair Polixena the peerless flower of Troy,  
No other wight I do desire, for that mine eyes beheld  
The noble valour of the man so tried in Trojan field.  
The Greek hath often made me glad to see his courage bold,  
For from the highest walls of Troy I gazing did behold,  
To view Achilles that brave Greek, so lion-like to vaunt  
Before the town, and with his force the proudest foe to daunt:  
And that although my sons were slain in war by luckless chance,  
Yet were I glad their hap were such, as that upon his lance  
To end their lives, that no reproach might happen to them dead,  
And that Achilles right well knew they died before they fled,  
And for their death I nothing grieve, for that my sons were slain  
By such a noble Grecian peer, whose like doth not remain  
In all the world such worthy fame the peerless Greek hath won:  
Say thus, quoth she, I shall not rest till that he be my son.  
My daughter for the courtesy that she with him did find  
Cannot forget the benefit, but still doth bear in mind  
The friendly usage of the Greek, at whose hands she hath found  
Such sweet relief, that ever since to this day she is bound  
To yield to him her chiefest friend, and willing to fulfil  
His mind in all respects, and be obedient to his will.  
And that because Achilles shall not think my words as vain,  
Wish him forthwith to prove my mind, and find if I do feign.  
Appoint some place (wish him do so) and there my daughter she  
And I myself his loving friend will then attendant be.  
Achilles knows that oft I do to Hector's tomb repair,  
Apollo's temple holds his bones, in which I have a care  
To do him rights as custom is (and yet the church did stand  
In greenish field without the town, not far from Grecian band)  
In which if that Achilles will Polixena shall stay,  
And I myself will come with her to celebrate that day.  
Thus to the Grecian camps I sent my messenger in haste:  
Who soon unto Achilles' tent in secret manner passed,  
And told him all that I had said: who presently with joy  
Besturd his stumps, and was right glad my daughter was not coy.  
For that when first he made his suit, and did my daughter crave,  
The wench was coy, and thus replied: No Grecian she would have.  
But now revived from former woe, the man with joy half mad  
Did send me thanks, and ten times thanks, that thus had made him glad.  
I will quoth he be there indeed, to offer with my friends  
For Hector slain, whose death I rue, yet will I make amends  
With some oblation to his ghost, right in his mother's view:  
That she may say, Achilles is become a friend full true  
To us and to the Trojans all, by soldiers faith I swear,  
It shall be so while life doth last, this mind I still will bear.  
And then forthwith prepared himself to offer to my son:  
Whom he before had slain, but now did wish the deed undone.  
Mean while when that I knew his mind, and having place so fit  
I did invent in secret sort to cry the Grecian quit.  
For slaying of my sons, and for a thousand Troyans slain,  
Which were my friends, for whose sake now such friendship I did feign.  
The presently I called my son, whom Fortune yet had spared:  
And made him privy of my mind, how that I had prepared  
To work my foe a spiteful part when least he did suspect:  
And sure I was no living wight as yet could it detect.  
And thus I said, my loving son, even as thou art my child,  
And hast a care to wish me well that am thy mother mild,  
And as thou knowest I tendered thee when Priam's sentence gave  
Thou shouldst be slain, yet I as then sought means thy life to save.  
Wherefore good Paris have a care to ease thy mother's grief:  
And that I pine in pain not long before I find relief.  
Which soon may be by thy good help, wherefore lay to thy hand:  
And shrink not now in time of need, but to thy mother stand.  
Thou knowest my son (quoth I) how that thy brethren both are gone  
Whom well I loud, and now in Troy alive there is not one  
That dares so valiantly in field against our foe to fight.  
But trembling we (thou knowest it well) do fear Achilles' might.  
Even now the time is come that we may banish fear away:  
For that Achilles hath set down a certain meeting day,  
To meet thy sister and myself, with others of my train:  
What time the wretch doth make account my daughter for to gain.  
Apollo's temple is the place where Hector's bones do rest:  
Which stands in field without our rowne, a place mistrusted least.  
In which Achilles minds to be, and vows if that he live  
To keep the time, expecting then my daughter I should give:  
So likewise I have promised, wherefore my son give aid:  
Let not the terror of the Greek make Paris heart afraid.  
But hie thee to the place, and there in secret sort go hide  
Thyself before Achilles come so that thou be not spied.  
With weapon good provide thyself against so fierce a foe,  
And when thou spiest convenient time then strike the fatal blow,  
That shall procure the Trojans ease, and pleasure to thy friends,  
And pay the debt that Hector owes to make the Greek amends.  
My son as willing as myself to work Achilles' spite:  
Did soon consent to my request, and thither stole by night,  
And closely by his brother's tomb himself he did convey:  
And there until Achilles came in secret sort he lay.  
Polixena my daughter fair in gorgeous wise I clad:  
For that I knew her pleasant hue would make Achilles glad.  
According to appointed time we pass the Trojan gates  
With certain of the Trojan dames, we had no other mates.  
And to the temple strait we hide, where we Achilles met,  
According to the place and time which he before had set.  
Then did the Greek us Troyans greet, he feigned a sober cheer,  
And said he grieved at Hector's death that was so brave a Peer.  
And further that he knew his death was to his mother pain,  
And to his sister whom he loud, wherefore (quoth he) again,  
I am content to make amends for that which I have done.  
And that in stead of Hector slain I mind to be thy son.  
And for assurance of the thing, by jove he did protest,  
That after this (by his good will) the town of Troy should rest  
From further war, and therewithal his love he did embrace,  
And fixed his eyes in doting sort upon my daughter's face,  
Not fearing any future hap, nor doubting any ill:  
For that in all respects we did according to his will.  
Which Paris spied, behind the tomb, when hand in hand we went.  
His sword prepared with mighty force, through back and side he sent.  
That down Achilles falls right soon all groveling on the ground:  
From gored sides the blood did flow forth of his mortal wound.  
There lay the wretch that erst we feared, now breathing out his last  
Whom Paris wild to eager curs should presently be cast.  
For using of his brethren so in such despiteful wise:  
Their bodies dead he did abuse before their mother's eyes.  
Whereto my son sir Helenus by no means than would yield  
How that the body of the Greek should lie in open field,  
Where beasts and fowls might feed their fill: but craved the Greeks might have  
The body of their slaughtered friend to lay in resting grave.  
Which thing was done, though undeserud on vile Achilles' part,  
That ever sought by spiteful means to slay my woeful heart.  
Then home we came with this revenge more merry than before:  
For well we witted Achilles fierce should never hurt us more.  
Now Fortune faund on me awhile, awhile it was indeed:  
For that the angry Gods against me wretch had still decreed.  
Achilles' dead, the Greeks' afresh fierce war did undertake:  
And vowed revenge on all my friends for slain Achilles' sake.  
And on my daughter chief of all for working them such spite:  
With one consent on either part they faithful promise plight.  
If that in case our town they take, whereof before they boast  
My daughter they will sacrifice to dead Achilles' ghost.  
But having slain so fierce a foe the Trojans all were glad.  
And craved the field against the Greeks', who now remained sad  
For losing of so brave a Peer, who was their chiefest aid,  
Wherefore to fight with us we thought the Grecians were afraid.  
Yet were we all deceived for that more fiercer than before  
The Grecians fought, that down there falls on either side great store.  
Their rage was great for to revenge the death of this their Peer:  
And fiercely fought in desperate sort, as men without all fear.  
At last I climbed to wont place where often I had been:  
Yet never there but some mishap by me poor wretch was seen,  
From whence I viewed the bloody broil which grieved me to behold  
How that the Greeks and Trojans stout in blood together rolled,  
At last I spied where Paris was (my son) who then did chase  
A Grecian Peer, Sir Ajax stout, who fled before his face.  
Not Ajax Telamonius I mean, but Oelius Ajax he  
Whom Paris chasdin open field that all the Greeks' might see.  
At last the Greek received a wound though he full swiftly flew:  
For that my son the flying chase did eagerly pursue.  
A grievous wound it was indeed, for Ajax feeling pain  
By flight could not prevail, wherefore perforce he turned again,  
And did encounter with my son who first had made him smart:  
And with his sword (O hapless hap) struck Paris to the heart.  
There died my son before my face, which Helen well doth know  
Who stood with me when that her mate received that fatal blow.  
The Greek like bedlam beast laid on, for dolour of his wound,  
And stabbed my son through back and side, stark dead upon the ground.  
Whose corpse when that the Greeks had spied, with mighty force they run  
To have a part of Paris dead, for his offences done.  
For well they knew he was the man that stole their Prince his wife:  
Which was the chiefest cause of all that bred that bloody strife.  
Wherefore each Greek to have him dead did mightily contend:  
And sure had got my son, but that the Trojans did defend  
The mangled corpse of Paris dead, and kept from Grecian force  
My son whom they would feign have caught to plague his senseless corpse.  
Whose life was gone they right well knew, but they like hellish hounds  
Did hunt to have his carcase dead to plague with grievous wounds.  
His senseless corpse they could not hurt, yet they as men stark mad:  
Of worldly wealth would give great store so that they might have had  
Alive or dead, or but a part, to satisfy their will:  
For well they witted he was the man that did Achilles kill.  
Wherefore they fiercely fought to have the body of my son,  
Who slew Achilles traitorously, and first that war begun,  
But by the aid of Trojans stout in maugre of their might,  
The body of my son was brought forth of that bloody fight,  
Whose corpse was laid before my face a grievous sight to see:  
The arms and legs which Greekes hewed off, was likewise brought to me,  
The pale aspect of this my son did mortify my mind,  
That down upon the corpse I fell, in hope some ease to find,  
For willingly I would have died, to finish up my care,  
The gods denied it should be so, but still my life did spare;  
For further woe and misery they meant I should abide,  
Which would to God I had not seen, but that I then had died.  
Fair Helena for this her mate in woeful sort did morn,  
Who was the cause that all the Greeks' against our state had sworn,  
All Troy was sad for my hard hap they wail on every side,  
Both old and young through every street, in mournful manner cried.  
His funerals and other rites in order all well done,  
And Trojans all had wailed their fill for loss of this my son:  
Then Helen fair her sorrow slacked, by course of weeping tears▪  
Her beauty bright to Deiphoebe, in secret sort appears,  
So that the man half mad for her doth earnestly require  
The Grecian Dame, and that he might forthwith have his desire:  
He was my son, wherefore as then I seemed well content,  
He had his choice, but then ere long the act he did repent:  
The Greeks' that knew how all things went came fierce again ere long.  
When they had filled their ranks with men to maintain battle strong,  
And gave sharp siege to Trojan walls which Troyans did defend;  
From that time forth the angry Greekes no idle time did spend,  
But day by day did still invent to work our great annoy,  
And plots did lay how to betray the stately town of Troy:  
For now they found no force prevailed against so strong a town,  
Their hope was past, by open force to beat our turrets down,  
Though divers of our states were dead, and men of great account,  
The Grecian peers which Troyans slew our number did surmount,  
Our loss was great and over great, whereof the Grecians boast:  
We also knew what mighty states the Grecian army lost,  
Yet were we strong and strong enough for all the Grecian states,  
And daily put their men to foil before the Trojan gates:  
Which well they spied, wherefore at length, by secret means they sought  
To take our town, and with our states full privily they wrought,  
They promise that these traitors vile, should have their goods and lives,  
And all their friends (whom they thought good) their children and their wives  
Should freed be from sack or spoil, if that they would betray  
Both Prince and town into their power, to be a Grecian prey.  
Aeneas that disloyal man especially I blame,  
And false Antenor, who at first consented to the same,  
Both vile disloyal wretches they thus to betray their King,  
And Grecian armies set in ranks within our town to bring,  
But sure I think the gods decreed at first it should be so,  
Wherefore I less do blame these men for bringing in our foe.  
Fell destiny so frowned on me, wherefore this latest fate  
Was first decreed for Paris fault, against King Priam's state,  
To plague me oft with woeful sights, to see my children torn,  
Both planets sure, and fortune vile against me wretch had sworn.  
Our town betrayed, not knowing as yet, till after, when too late,  
For that the Greeks' with mighty troops were entered in the gate  
In silent night, by help of friends when Troyans were at rest:  
They marched on, for well they knew the lowering night was best,  
For this their subtle policy: when we to rest were laid,  
The Greeks' came in, our gates were open, lo thus we were betrayed.  
Now was my woe afresh renewed, my miseries forepast  
To this mishap a trifle was, but sorrow now full fast  
In spiteful wise did show her force, to vex me more and more:  
And fortune frowned in worse sort than she had done before:  
For now my friends and dear allies in paved streets so wide  
Besmeared with blood do gaping lie, as they to succour hide.  
The conquered town which then was lost in vain they sought to save,  
With ranks of men not armed for haste, they lusty larums gave,  
But all in vain was this their force for that the Grecians fell,  
With murdering minds so laid about, a grievous thing to tell,  
And so be hact and hewed our men unarmed as they stood,  
That like to streams the Trojans streets did flow with gory blood:  
There lay the States and Peers of Troy, whom angry Greekes had slain,  
For that they thought to save the town which Grecians meant to gain.  
Thus passing up our stately streets, such mighty spoil they made,  
So that I think it grieved the Greeks' in Trojan blood to wade,  
Yet for because we had abused the Grecians in such sort,  
The slaughters vile of guiltless men was to the Greeks' a sport:  
At last when all the town was won, the states for succour flew  
To Priam's palace, hoping that the foe would not pursue,  
Nor there to spoil the aged Prince for reverence of his years,  
Who long had lived in Phrygia land, as at this day appears.  
But they to reverence aged years, so little had regard,  
That Prince and Peer, both old and young by Grecians was not spared,  
The palace fair of Pryamus, the greedy Greeks' beset  
With weapons bright, and fiercely fought, their hoped prey to get.  
There now the battle great was up, as if no place else where  
Had felt of war, and die did none in all the town but there,  
So mightily the Greeks' did run, to houses tops we see  
The posts broke down, and gates broke open, beset that none might flee,  
The walls with scaling ladders laid, and props for scaffolds hie,  
That up by stairs they climb, and back they drive the darts that fly▪  
To battlements full fast they cling, on battered walls they hold  
While Troyans down upon their heads the tops of towers rolled,  
Full fierce a while the Trojans fought, but all their force was vain,  
For that the gods had vowed, there should no part of Troy remain  
Unconquered, and Pryamus the King of Troy should know,  
How that he did not well when first he made the Greeks' his foe.  
At last the gates too weak to hold, by force were opened wide,  
And fearful foes with armour bright passde in on every side.  
The peers within right well perceiude the cruel foes intent,  
Unable to withstand their force to dreadful death were sent:  
Which I beheld from secret place where I myself did shroud,  
And other more that time with me, to save themselves did crowd.  
My kinsmen dear and faithful friends before my face they made  
To be as wood before the axe, and buckler to the blade,  
Dismembering them in woeful sort, a lamentable thing,  
And oft enquired for Pryamus that they might kill the King,  
Which well I witted wherefore from thence myself I did convey,  
And word did send to Pryamus, that there he should not stay  
But seek someway by privy doors to scape their bloody hand,  
And not to bide amongst their force, nor to their mercy stand,  
And then into the streets I passde by secret ways unknown,  
Where channels deep (ah grievous sight) with blood was overflown,  
And martyred men scarce dead did lie, there breathing out their last,  
A worse hap than this I spied, as I by chance did cast  
Mine eyes aside where I perceiude sir Menelaus he,  
In armour bright, so lion-like fast marching towards me,  
And as he came, he soon had spied how Deiphoebe my son  
Made haste to shun his cruel hand, and swiftly thence did run  
For that he feared the desperate foe, and knowing just cause why,  
Made greater haste to save himself, and fast away did fly:  
The Greek despising that my son of all the rest should scape,  
Because he held his lawful wife, he would revenge that rape:  
For when that Paris late was slain, than this my son did take  
Fair Helen Menelaus wife which did against him make,  
And now before my face this Greek my loving son had caught,  
Whom he before through all the town full eagerly had sought  
To make him rue his former deed: and Paris being slain,  
He vowed my son that held his wife, should yield her up again.  
Lo thus (I say) before my face the greedy Greek there held  
My son, who to the bedlam beast in humble sort did yield:  
But he in stead of clemency did show his cruel mind,  
My son that yielded at his foot the tyrant vile did bind,  
His nose he cut, his ears and lips, and plucked out his sight,  
His other limbs in spiteful sort, he did dismember quite:  
Take here (quoth he) the due reward of Paris fault forepast,  
Thy brother dead, for if he lived, a worse plague should taste.  
Wherefore commend me to his ghost, and truly to him tell,  
That I for his offences vile did send thy soul to hell.  
And therewithal he stabbeth my son that willing was to die:  
Which thing once done, yet further grief I chanced to espy,  
For presently right near my sight it was my hap to see  
My daughter, whom full dear I loud, my sweet Cassandra she  
Most vilely to be drawn along, whose hands and feet were bound  
In spiteful sort by hair of head, they dragged on bloody ground,  
They hallde her still along the streets, where gory blood did flow,  
That when she passed along by me, I scarce her face did know:  
But soon she spied me where I stood, and lifting up her eyes,  
To haughty heavens, and for redress in woeful sort she cries,  
And calls aloud to have my aid, when I myself had need  
Of aid, to secure my mishap, and that to have with speed:  
Yet still she cries, O mother, help, lay to your helping hand,  
Let not this Greek misuse me thus, while you on looking stand,  
But rather seek to secure me from this vile tyrant wild,  
And save me from this cruel Greek that minds to force your child:  
Sweet mother help (quoth she again) get Troyans to defend  
Me thus abused But she in vain her woeful voice did spend:  
For I myself did quaking stand, expecting still the end;  
Amongst my foes I there was placed, I could not spy a friend.  
Yet following fast my daughter dear to see what might betide:  
Who still for aid on me poor soul, continually cried.  
To Pallas temple she was drawn, in Troy a sacred place,  
And there my daughter was abused before her mother's face.  
That bad ungodly Greek did deal with her, and did abuse  
The holy place with such a fact, her body to misuse.  
Which when I saw I could not stay to give the looking on,  
But cried aloud for Trojan aid although I could get none.  
That holy temple was defiled with such a filthy deed:  
For which offence that wretch ere long unhappily did speed.  
Away I trudgd oppressed with grief, unable to give aid,  
Or to revenge myself on him that this vile part had played.  
And as I passed from place to place, it was my chance to see  
A hundred of my daughter-lawes which did inquire for me.  
And quaking stood in open street with minds resolved to die:  
For well they knew the ways were stopped, that none away could fly.  
With woeful cries we wailed a good, down dropped the brinish tears  
But all in vain, for dreadful death in ugly shape appears.  
Yet lingering still in hope to line, we seek to find relief:  
And ranged about in streets unknown, which bred us further grief.  
For as I passed I might behold an altar huge to stand  
In open street, whereto we went to shun their cruel hand.  
A sacred place, where all our Gods were painted on a row:  
There thronged we thick about that place to shroud us from our foe.  
Which place we thought the angry Greeks durst not once be so bold  
Before the Gods our blood to shed, wherefore on them we hold,  
And thought the Gods would us defend, and privilege the place:  
And as a sanctuary safe to help in such a case.  
Thus sitting there, at last I spied old Priamus my mate:  
Who yet had scaped their murdering hand, but this his heavy state  
Was death to me, yea death itself my husband dear to see  
So chacte as hare before the hound who fast for life did flee.  
The aged man whose quaking limbs could scant his body bear  
Had weapons got, and armour bright upon his back did wear.  
His bending hams did bear the weight unfit for Priam's years:  
With spear in hand as if no state of Grecian land he fears.  
His manly mind was bend to fight, his feeble force to try:  
And he amongst his loving friends most willingly would die.  
The heavy harness over huge my husband would assay:  
That being on, his spear in hand could scarce his body stay.  
But staggering stood, not fit to fight enfeebled so by age:  
Yet he against his cruel foes in desperate wise did rage.  
Which soon I spied, wherefore as then I humbly did desire  
To rage's no more, but seem content, and pacify his ire.  
I willed him then without delay to sacred place repair:  
Which thing to touch the greedy Greeks would have especial care.  
For that the Gods there present were to keep us free from spoil:  
Whose presence what bold Grecian dares pollute with bloody foil.  
And therewithal in hast I drew him to the altar side,  
And set him down (old feeble man) but see what did betide:  
By this time Priam's palace fair was yielded to the Greeks',  
And Pyrrhus fierce Achilles' son in every corner seeks  
For Priamus that aged sire, and for his loving sons:  
In hope to gain them with the spoil full eagerly he runs.  
And having found Polites out, in cruel sort did chase  
The fearful youth, who for his life did trudge the streets apace.  
And coming where his father sat, there hoping to have aid:  
Yet scarcely come to wished place but that proud Pyrrhus stayed  
Our son, and there within our sight with churlish fist fast held:  
And presently in parent's view Polites there he field.  
There panting lay our loving son by breathless course near spent:  
While Pyrrhus stern his fatal spear through back and side had sent.  
That dying strait his hands up held to take his last farewell:  
It makes me shrink to call to mind, and grieves me now to tell  
What after did ensue, for that King Priam could not rest:  
With such a sight as commonly each father doth detest.  
For to revenge his son so slain he needs would take in hand:  
When he (good man) unable was with feeble age to stand,  
But he to show his noble mind bad Pyrrhus proud pack hence:  
Forth of his sight, or else he would with speed drive him from thence.  
What darest thou now thou wretch (quoth he) thus in my presence stay?  
When that my son whom well I loud thou didst before me slay.  
And wilt thou stand to brave it out to breed me further pain?  
No that I will not sure digest, though I myself be slain.  
And therewithal in feeble fist his spear he trembling held,  
Whose quaking limbs by age oppressed could scant his weapon wield.  
And at proud Pyrrhus he let's drive his hurtless spear (God knows)  
Whereof strong Pyrrhus might have born for need a thousand blows.  
Achilles' bastard borne (quoth he) by this I know thou art:  
That dares presume before my face to play so hard a part.  
Thou wretch, thou misbegotten wretch, that thus hast showed thy kind  
For well I know thou art the man that bear'st so bad a mind.  
With that (quoth he) Neoptolemus my father's son, the same  
That was the bastard, and not I, for Pyrrhus is my name.  
And for because in time to come thou shalt not use me so  
With these hard terms, a token I will give thee how to know  
My brother and myself apart, wherefore thou shalt inquire  
Ere long of slain Achilles' ghost to prove thyself a liar.  
And therewithal the spiteful Greek from sacred place did draw  
My noblemate by hair of head, contrary to all law.  
And through the blood of his slain son the aged man he drew:  
And right before our sacred Gods my husband dear he slew.  
With fatal blade before my face he piercde his tender side:  
That right against the Gods themselves my loving husband died.  
The Gods no help at all would give the Grecian to prevent:  
Nor that the Trojan Prince should live, but they with one consent  
Did vow his death for former fault, and for his sins offence.  
No earthly wight for this his sin could with their power dispense.  
But die he must it was decreed, and dreadful death should end  
This bloody war, that after none in like case should offend.  
My husband dead, I did behold a grievous sight to see:  
His daughters all bewailed his hap which then did stand with me.  
The cellars deep and hollow caves with wailing all did sound:  
And from the haughty houses tops the Echo did rebound.  
Ah heavy chance to see him slain who was my chiefest joy:  
The Emperor of Asia great, and stately King of Troy.  
Who now lay slain before my face, but being then stark dead:  
With loving zeal on Priam slain my greedy eyes I fed.  
What hath this princox boy (quoth I) my loving husband slain  
Beside our Gods without revenge, what shall he still remain  
Alive, to vaunt of this his deed, or brag of such a fact  
Before the Greeks his cruel mates, who joys at this his act.  
Ye Gods, ye sacred Gods (I cried) although your wrath be great  
Against us Trojans now subdued, whose ruin ye did threat  
For Paris sin yet have regard on Triam thus betrayed.  
Who now is dead by your decree, wherefore his debt is paid.  
But now (quoth I) grant my request, that this vile Greek may rue  
This cruel deed in time to come, that ever he so slew  
The aged King, for reverence of grey and aged hairs:  
Whose youth was come by yearly course to old and aged years.  
Let not the slaughter of a King make proud his haughty heart:  
Nor that he long may make his vaunt of this so hard a part.  
But as your justice now is seen, in so revenging wrong:  
So Pyrrhus proud by your consent may rue this deed ere long.  
When Priam thus by Pyrrhus' sword had breathed out his last,  
And that the town was quite subdued by Grecians fight fast,  
The Greeks demand Polixena, because she first procured  
Achilles' death by feigned love, through which he was allured:  
Whom when they found, this Pyrrhus craved to have my loving child  
That so had caused his father's death by working such a wild,  
But when she knew the earnest suit of fierce Achilles' son:  
For secure to me helpless wretch, with vain hope fast did run.  
With clasping arms about my neck on me she cried for aid,  
For Pyrrhus, dead Achilles' son, had made her sore afraid.  
Help mother now at need (quoth she) still weeping on my breast:  
A place too weak, for greedy Greeks, for there she might not rest.  
Grim Pyrrhus with an eager look did tear her from my lap:  
With churlish fist he gripped the girl, O hard and cruel hap?  
That still mine eyes should witness bear of this my woeful case,  
And that both mate and children dear should die before my face.  
By hair of head Polixena was drawn along the street:  
Where divers of her woeful friends in sorrowing sort did meet  
To wail with her, for well they witted to dreadful death she went.  
Achilles' death now to revenge they knew proud Pyrrhus meant.  
And as they thought it came to pass, for Pyrrhus did devise,  
Upon his father's tomb as then my child to sacrifice  
Unto the ghost of his slain Sire, his death to recompense:  
And that Achilles' ghost might know it was for her offence.  
Polixena so hauled along by such a cruel foe:  
What should become of this my child as then I did not know.  
Wherefore to see I followed fast what would to her betide:  
Where round about Achilles' tomb a troop of Greeks I spied,  
Which ready were to give their aid if need should so require,  
My daughter's death with one consent each Grecian did desire:  
And there before my face they bound both hand and foot full fast  
Of this my child, that willing was of bitter death to taste.  
But having spied me where I stood, her hands and feet fast bound,  
In token of her last farewell, her head towards me she twound,  
And fixed her eyes on me (poor wretch) with such a woeful look,  
With nodding head for want of limbs, her last farewell she took.  
Then Pyrrhus mad until revenge did draw his fatal blade,  
And slew my child upon the tomb, which he before had made  
In honour of his father dead, and there with gory blood  
Imbrued the grave: which cruel act did all the Grecians good.  
These words he spoke which well I heard (quoth he) take here thine end,  
Thy soul unto my father's ghost for thine offence I send,  
And for the fault of Paris slain, King Priam late did rue  
His sons vile part; for with this hand the aged man I slew.  
O fortune vile, that spared my life to see this woeful day,  
My friends stark dead whom Grecians slew, in every corner lay,  
Not one was left to comfort me that could my woe redress.  
But mourning matrons whose hard hap increased my heaviness,  
And last of all the angry Greeks' to breed us further care:  
The traitors of our common wealth, from sack or spoil they spare:  
Aeneas, and Antenor he, those that betrayed our town,  
In conquered Troy had liberty as walkers up and down,  
The spoil once had our stately town with fire fierce did flame:  
The gods decreed my life should last that I might see the same,  
Then did I see our lofty towers consumed with fire to fall,  
In burning houses children cried, which number was not small:  
A world of woe to call to mind the latter spoil of Troy,  
When Greekes with fire our City great did utterly destroy,  
Fierce was the flame on every side, down falls the buildings fair,  
The temples of our sacred gods the fire did not spare,  
Till all things flat upon the ground did lie like desert plain,  
For memory of this our town the walls did not remain,  
Down to the earth it smoking lay defaced so with fire.  
To ruin now all things were come which was the Greeks' desire,  
The bodies of the Trojans slain in Xanthus' flood did swim,  
Each channel deep with crimson blood stood floating to the brim:  
The members of our martyred men in barren fields they fling,  
In fertile sort to fat the earth in stead of other dung,  
That where the town of Troy did stand in little space was seen  
Where houses stood there grass did grow in sprouting sort full green;  
And where the Temples of our gods in stately manner stood,  
The docks and weeds were cherished by loss of Trojans blood,  
No place of Troy untouched did stand, but all for waste was laid:  
The Greeks' cried quit with that vile part that Paris first had played.  
When that mine eyes had seen all this the sorrows which were passed,  
Each woeful hap once called to mind, stark mad I fell at last,  
And raging in the fields I ran where lately Troy did stand:  
From thence when I had raylde my fill, I passde to Thracia land,  
Where Polymnestor that vile wretch and traitor bad did reign,  
Who had betrayed young Polidore my son for filthy gain.  
Which cruel act (though then stark mad) in mind I still did bear  
That for revenge on him I fell, and out his eyes did tear,  
To work him woe for this his deed my frantic mind was fierce,  
The cheeks of this disloyal wretch my nails did sound pierce,  
That he forthwith had lost his sight for this his former deed.  
O would to God all traitors thus for treachery might speed:  
This deed once done, my troubled mind somewhat I did appease,  
For well I witted the wretch was blind which did my sorrow ease,  
And also to my further joy proud Pyrrhus lost his life,  
When he returned home to Greece by reason of the strife  
That stout Orestes had with him for Hermion that wench,  
That nothing else but present death could this their quarrel quench:  
Achilles son at last was slain, Orestes had his joy.  
And Pyrrhus might repent the time that first he came to Troy,  
Where he imbrued himself with blood, and slew the aged King,  
Which was the cause of his mishap, and sure no other thing:  
The gods that knew his cruel mind, and saw his wilful fact  
Can not less do than make the Greek repent his bloody act.  
Orestes slew Achilles son, thus Pyrrhus being dead,  
Like herbs to pot his flesh was chopped, no otherwise he sped:  
This news to me some comfort was in this my woeful state,  
To hear what hard mishap befell to him that slew my mate.  
And well I witted his father first for using me so ill  
Was slain himself by my consent, for Paris did him kill:  
And also how that Thracian King that Polymnestor hight,  
For so betraying of my son, and doing me that spite,  
Received a guerdon for his fact, his lumen lights he lost,  
Wherefore the traitor of his gains, I think, could scarcely boast,  
Of all the rest it did me good, for that my hands had done  
Such due revenge on that vile wretch that so betrayed my son.  
I joyed a while at this my deed my sorrow well did flake,  
For that I knew they died the death of whom before I spoke.  
But when again I called to mind my children that were gone,  
And dear allies, of whom the Greeks' alive had left not one:  
And how old Pryamus my mate before my face did die  
On Pyrrhus' blade that Grecian grim, while I in vain did cry  
For help, to free him from the hand of this his spiteful foe,  
In vain I cried, for that the gods decreed it should be so.  
And then when that I thought on Troy, on Troy our stately town.  
Which was the eye of all the world, but now by Greeks' thrown down,  
And like a desert place did lie, no sign of Troy did stand:  
The empire stout of Asia great, so wrested from our hand,  
That I the greatest Queen on earth, so was my stately style  
In time forepast, and now to be a helpless wretch most vile:  
So base and humbly was I used far from my former state,  
That harbourless I ranged about, this was my hapless fate.  
Despised of all, received of none, refused of those that faund  
On me before, when I their Queen did every thing command.  
But now, although I used them well in elder time before,  
They to requite my courtesy did shut me forth of door:  
And let me lie without relief, this kindness they did show;  
In Prince's place, to me they sued, but now they would not know  
Their hapless Queen in misery, but let me raging run  
In every corner where I would, each wight me wretch did shun:  
Not Greekes I mean, but subjects mine, who sometime did profess  
In Asia soil me for their Queen, and now in this distress  
The Greeks' had awed their minds so far, they durst not on me look:  
But as a thing that venom was each living wight forsook:  
Which when I spied, and called to mind my former stately place,  
And now again did see myself to live in such disgrace:  
In frantic sort my heart was vexed, the anguish of my mind,  
Like bedlam beast did make me run the spiteful Greeks' to find  
That were the causers of my woe, that I revenge might take  
On all the wrongs that they had done, and for my husband's sake,  
Whom they had slain before my face, and for my children dear,  
For whose sweet sakes, amongst the Greeks' I went without all fear,  
With eager fist I laid on load, with nails, and feet at length,  
But slender hurt, a woman's hand could do to men of strength,  
Yet notwithstanding my good will was seen by this my force  
And theirs again (O wretched me) by using such remorse,  
For when that I had done my worst, and showed my utter might,  
And breathless stood for want of breath by this my feeble fight,  
The Greeks' with stones did compass me, whose force I still defied,  
Till they with stones did strike me down, where presently I died.  
Lo thus, when that all vile mishaps had chanced unto me,  
Whom fortune followed to the death with such extremity:  
And that mine eyes (to my great grief) such woeful things had seen,  
But would to God before the war long time I dead had been.  
When all such haps of hateful doom that fortune could assign  
Did chance to me by hapless hap, such luckless lot was mine,  
To end my days in great disgrace I died among my foes,  
They stoned me to death (poor wretch) a heavy end God knows,  
Had ever any such mishap since first the world begun,  
Or any one did know such woe that lived under sun,  
As I myself (poor wretched Queen) though bootless now I mourn,  
For remedlesse the cause remains when Planets all had sworn,  
And haughty gods to work me woe for Paris filthy sin,  
Who would to God had died the death when life did first begin:  
Or would to God (I wish too late) the waves had been his grave,  
When he to Lacedaemon went fair Helen for to have:  
O Neptune fierce couldst thou not frown and Aeolus out call,  
With whirling winds to drench his ship, his company and all,  
But safely so to suffer him to swim with gale at will.  
The doting youth in prime of years, his fancy to fulfil,  
In Simois and Xanthus flood, his ships did seem to sail:  
So quiet was the seas as then because he should prevail.  
What, did ye seaish God's decree together with consent,  
To plague the Trojan state so far, as angry Pallas meant?  
Ye Gods that rule both land and sea, why did ye thus decree,  
That Neptune's town, at first so called, to Greekes a pray should be?  
If otherwise ye meant at all, his ship should not have passed  
So quietly through surging seas by help of Boreas blast:  
For Triton mild did show his face so happily that day,  
That Paris passed with sprouting sails into the Grecian bay.  
What was become of Palemon, did Glaucus hide his head?  
Their swift recourse far from his ship in partial sort was fled.  
The Strencoucht Antiphates, Parthenope was gone  
That wont were to keep their course, but now there was not one,  
Not Circe nor Calypso would their wont magic use:  
Although they knew the lecher meant Atrides to abuse.  
So Zephyrus and Eurus fell, with Aquilo did lurk:  
And hide themselves while Boreas with friendly gale did work.  
Nereids were passed away, Latona's imps did shine.  
Each thing did smoothly smile that day by help of God's divine.  
And all was for the Trojan wrack, to plague my sons offence.  
For Paris needs to Greece would go, and soon returned from thence.  
But would to God the brinish seas, with raging waves so wild  
Had drowned that bawd that Theseus first in filthy sort defiled:  
And that my son had died with her before he came to shore:  
Then Troy had stood and flourished still, as long it did before.  
But Helen Menelaus wife that was Sir Paris joy,  
Was first occasion of our woe, and latest fate to Troy.  
O would the tigers first had torn the limbs of this my son,  
When aged Priam sentence gave on that which was not done.  
The cause whereof was mine own deed which act I now repent:  
For that the Oracle did show before the boy's intent.  
But now I know I wish too late: the angry Gods had sworn  
To plague our state for some offence. For Paris being born,  
Whose destiny the Oracle did openly declare,  
And yet to see, my hap was such that wicked babe to spare.  
Who was the cause of this mischance, and breeder of our woe:  
His death had been to us a life, and life to thousands more.  
Yet I for pity sake would not consent that this my boy  
The tigers brood his tender limbs should utterly destroy.  
What power divine did hinder me, or what infernal fiend?  
What did both heaven and earth to this their utter forces bend?  
O what offence did we commit that all the Gods should frown:  
And thus decree with one consent to pluck our Empire down?  
Did they appoint that I should breed, and foster in my lap  
A scourge to plague the parent's sin, and cause of their mishap?  
Was it king Priam's father's fault that Laomedon bade  
That builded Troy with borrowed coin? for he received had  
Of Neptune and Apollo's Priests a sum of money great,  
And when the day appointed came, the wretch forswore the debt,  
With mighty vows the perjured man at altar side did say  
He borrowed none to build his walls, and therefore none would pay.  
But whether 'twere for perjury, or for my sons offence  
I cannot tell, but well I know it was a recompense  
For double and for triple sin, so many thousand died:  
From Nations far the world doth know the people thither hide  
In hope of pay to either side great troops of men did run:  
But what was gained save deadly fight? or what but death was won?  
Did ever any feel such woe as I poor wretch did taste?  
Did ever Fortune yield such looks as she on me did cast?  
O haughty Gods what hap was mine to feel such bitter pain?  
Did destiny assign me that, to make me thus complain?  
I would that I had been unborn, or borne I dead had been:  
For then these woeful miseries I wretch had never seen.  
Why did the God's cause me to live? why did they thus decree?  
Was this their will that I should live with present eyes to see  
My loving mate and children slain, and Troy to burn with fire?  
If they did will it should be so, than they had their desire.  
But fie on that vile destiny, O fie on that hard curse:  
The Gods themselves could not devise how they should plague me worse.  
And then with wring hands she wept, with wailing voice she cried:  
Which griende me sore, about I turned, where presently I spied  
An aged man both grave and grim, for that he seemed sad:  
Right father like for grayish hairs, with Princely robes be clad:  
Unto the woeful Queen he marchd, and thus in modest sort  
Began to quip her frantic mood as I shall give report.   

What madness now hath moved thy mind (quoth he) O loving mate,  
That thus thou fretst against the Gods, and frantically dost prate?  
Can this thy fuming mind redress, or cause the things undone  
To be again? No, if we lived again we could not shun  
The God's decree, wherefore be still shake off such heaviness:  
In vain it is to vex thyself where cause is remedles.  
What shall thy ghost that now should rest, in worldly cares still dwell:  
And think on things that erst were past, O plague far worse than hell.  
Then suffer thou thy ghost to take her quiet ease at last.  
And call thou not to mind again that which is gone and passed.  
Thou knowest our destiny was so, we could it not prevent:  
For that the Gods to plague our sin for some abusesment.  
What should we kick against the spur, or swim against the tide?  
Or strive for that to have at will which angry Gods denied?  
When I had sent my son to death, and that he should be killed,  
His life thou savedst, wherefore thou seest that destiny it wild.  
But I to shun Simphlegades on Hebrus lake did light:  
And coasting from Charibdis' gulf on Scylla rock did smite.  
Thus seeking how all dangers great by counsel I might shun:  
Did unawares ere that I witted to present perils run.  
Was I the cause that Helen fair with Paris came to Troy:  
No sure it was fell destiny, or fickle Fortune coy.  
For when the Oracle had told what hap in time should fall:  
I wild to take away the cause. For witness now I call  
The sacred Gods who knew my mind, my son I would have slain.  
I was content my flesh and blood the tigers chop should stain,  
Because I feared the prophesy, therefore I did consent.  
But what of that? the Gods themselves did hinder mine intent.  
For if the Gods decree it once, I know it will fall out:  
Let no man think the powers divine by any mean to stout.  
Sir Satire son to Parricide, of Bosphore sometime king,  
Was wild by Oracle to shun a mouse of any thing.  
For that a mouse should be his death except he took great heed:  
The Oracle did tell him flat his fate was so decreed.  
But he to shun the warned harm did slay the silly mice  
In field and town, that none might live his death to enterprise:  
And in his land no man might dwell that mouse was called by name:  
He sought each way to save himself, he feared so the same.  
He stopped the holes of creeping mice in every place full sure:  
For that the vermins by no means his death might once procure.  
Yet see the end, when least he thought of this forewarned harm:  
He wounded was upon the brawn or muscle of the arm:  
For Musculus a little mouse in Latin we do call:  
And Must a mouse which Satire slew, as after did befall.  
A dagger pierced Sir Satyrs arm right where the muscle grew:  
And muscle comes of Musculus, though then too late he knew.  
And Philip King of Macedon was warned to beware  
Of waggon or of wheeled coach: wherefore he had a care  
To keep himself from any such: he never could abide  
To come in coach for fear of that, but still on horse did ride.  
For all his care it so fell out he could it not prevent:  
He was deceived, no running coach by this before was meant.  
For being slain, the sword that slew the King was brought to sight  
And viewed well, where on the hilts a coach was graven right.  
To Pelius it was declared when that he chauncd to see  
One barefoot doing rights unto his father's ghost, that he  
Should then of death in danger stand, the prophesy was so:  
Because he should take heed of him, and shun the warned foe.  
When he was doing of his rights unto his father's ghost:  
His nephew jason came by chance, whose right foot shoe was lost  
And there unto his grandsire dead the youth his dews did give.  
The uncle then with jealous mind not long did think to live,  
For that he feared his nephew now, who barefoot there did stand  
Should be the cause of his dispatch, wherefore he out of hand  
Did counsel jason being young to Colchos I'll to sail.  
To fetch the golden fleece from thence: wherein he did prevail▪  
His meaning was that jason should be lost or drowned therein,  
The conquest seemed unpossible the golden fleece to win.  
And for because he might not fear the prophesy forepast  
He shipped his nephew speedily, and sent him thence in haste.  
But jason soon returned again, and brought away the fleece:  
And brought Medea home with him to be old Pelias Niece.  
To Thessaly Medea came, and hearing what was done;  
Against the aged Pelias, she presently begun  
To practise treason at the last, and caused the aged sire  
By his own daughters to be slain, this was for Pelias hire.  
For he that could not trust the man that was his kinsman near:  
But purposely did seek his death to free himself from fear.  
Had such a chance, ere that he witted Medea did the deed.  
His jealous mind was chiefest cause that made him so to speed.  
The Oracle long time before did know old Pelias mind:  
Wherefore it told what destiny was to the man assigned.  
Of fifty daughters Danaus to be the sire was known:  
Aegiptus then his brother had so many sons his own.  
Aegiptus would have all these his sons his brother's daughters wed:  
But Danaus would not consent, wherefore away he fled  
And took his daughters all with him, because he did suspect  
A son in law would be his death, therefore he did reject  
The offer that his brother made, but why he did refrain:  
The cause was thus, the Oracle did say he should be slain  
By him that was his son in law, wherefore he sought to shun  
Such destiny as might befall through such a wicked son.  
Aegyptus wroth with this his deed, did send his sons to stay  
Their uncle that before was fled, and pact from thence away.  
His sons according to his will old Danaus did take,  
And caused him there against his will a marriage day to make:  
His daughters all were wedded then against their father's will,  
Each man his cousin germane had, Aegyptus did fulfil  
His mind at last, and did rejoice in this so strange a march.  
But Danaus' not well content, did work a swift dispatch,  
Because he feared the prophecy, lest that on him should light:  
He did command his daughters all they should appoint a night,  
Wherein each one with willing mind her slumbering mate should slay,  
And disappoint the prophecy before the morrow day:  
His jealous mind did vex him so, he still did doubt the worst,  
Till it was done he could not rest, the man did so mistrust:  
According to the father's mind they did commit the act,  
The nuptial bed was so defiled with such a filthy fact,  
All saving one was slain that night, a hard and cruel part,  
Whose life was saved, for that his wife did will him thence to start,  
For very love she bore to him, though all her sisters had  
Destroyed their mates, which deed she thought to be right vile and bad.  
Thus being saved by such a mean, the son in law did wax  
Right fierce against his father law, and earnestly did vex,  
He vowed revenge on Danaus, that thus unjustly dealt,  
He swore that he should taste the same that they before had felt:  
And in the end he slew the wretch, for doing of that deed:  
The Oracle pronouncde before how Danaus should speed,  
Thus seeking how to shun his fate his death he did procure,  
Himself was cause of his dispatch, when he thought all things sure.  
The Theban king that Laius hight by Oracle was told,  
That Oedipus his only son would prove a man too bold,  
And in the end should be the death of him that was his sire.  
But Laius thought to frustrate that, and prove his god a liar,  
Unto a shepherd of his own his son he gave to slay,  
And charged the man upon his life, there should be no delay,  
But presently his son to kill and bring him home his heart:  
He shall not live so long (quoth he) to make his father smart:  
The shepherd took the lad a field, but loath he was to kill  
His Master's son that he loud well, and yet he must fulfil  
His master's mind, which grieved him sore, wherefore he did invent  
How he might satisfy the King, and save the innocent.  
That Oedipus were dead he wished, so that his hands were freed  
From doing hurt unto the youth, and from so vile a deed,  
Wherefore the hurtless lad he took, his legs with twigs he bound,  
And by the heels upon a tree he hung him from the ground,  
That no wild beasts might reach the child his tender limbs to tear,  
He would by no means do the deed, but did the infant spare:  
And yet he thought, how that ere long the boy must needs be dead,  
But by that means he sought to free his hands from vile bloodshed:  
He killde a pig, and took the heart, and brought it to the King,  
And blooded certain linen clothes in token of the thing,  
And told him that his child was dead, and there he might behold  
The heart and heart blood of his son, wherefore he might be bold  
To banish fear, for this his child should never him molest,  
For he was dead and dead again, and therefore he might rest.  
Now see the hap that to this man did afterward betide,  
For Phorbas king of Corinth soil, by chance that way did ride,  
Who spied the child as then alive, which woefully did cry:  
With sprawling hands it reachd about, full near at point to die.  
He caused his man to take it down, to save the infant's life.  
Right glad he was, wherefore forthwith he brought it to his wife  
Who barren was, and had no child: then this as for her own  
She did receive, from whence it came to them it was not known.  
The child did grow, they loud it well, and then in course of years  
Of noble lineage comes the boy (quoth Phorbas) it appears.  
For that the lad was daily given to Martial exercise:  
And did delight to take in hand some noble enterprise.  
At last king Phorbas sends his son with mighty men of war,  
To fight against the Theban King, twixt whom there was a jar.  
Sir Oedipus in battle strong did utterly confound  
The Thebans, and to their king he gave a mortal wound,  
Whereof he presently did die: thus Laius had his end:  
The Gods that knew how all things went, such fate to him did send:  
And Oedipus his mother takes, and maries her in haste.  
No thing was known to him as yet that erst was done and passed.  
Thus Laius died by his own son, no botter could he speed:  
It is no striving with the gods if once they have decreed:  
Wherefore vex not (O Hecuba) let not thy ghost so fret  
Against the gods for this their doom, and further do not three  
Fell destiny or fortune's frown, for this that they have done,  
Was for some mighty sin of ours, which fate we could not shun,  
Or for the sin of perjury, a vile and hateful deed,  
Which first my father did commit, and now upon his seed  
The plague did fall deservedly for such his bad abuse,  
The gods themselves will not accept for perjury excuse▪  
And I likewise a wilful man as all my deeds did show,  
My woeful folly was the cause of this our overthrow,  
For when the Greeks' did send to have fair Helena again,  
I would not hearken to their suit, but puffed with deep disdain,  
Did flout and mock at their request, and openly denied  
Their just demand, which great abuse the sacred gods had spied,  
When that my son had ta'en away, sir Menelaus wife,  
A filthy part the lecher played, yet they to end all strife  
Would willingly digest that wrong, so that I would restore  
The Grecian dame that Paris stole from Greece not long before,  
And that no war should once arise betwixt our Empire's stout:  
So gently they did entreat, but if I went about  
To hold her still, they threaten war, and vowed by gods above,  
That they would fight to have again, sir Menelaus love,  
Whom I perforce unjustly held, and stoutly did maintain  
So vile a part that would in time cause thousands to be slain,  
But I did give them answer thus, I mind to hold her still,  
Not Greece, nor all the Princes there, in this shall break my will.  
Let Agamemnon do his worst, I pass it not a straw:  
Let Menelaus fret his fill, my will shall be a law,  
And let them both with all their force against my power fight,  
I mind to hold dame Helen still, against all law and right:  
I have her now, and here with me I mind she shall remain,  
Let them not spare but fall to war, and see what they shall gain,  
The walls of Troy are strong enough, my power is not small,  
I ready am to sighed the field when Grecian trumpets call.  
This will of mine was chiefest cause that did procure my smart,  
For I contrary to a law maintained so hard a part,  
No reason would persuade my mind, true justice was away,  
And wilful folly held the sword, self-will did bear the sway:  
The want of justice was the cause that this our ruin wrought.  
What was the cause that Troy did fall, and so consume to nought,  
So many thousand men to die, was not my wilful fact  
The chiefest cause that Asia, by Grecian power was sacked?  
What Empires great and kingdoms wide, hath ruin over run  
For want of justice and good laws? Or what hath Princes won  
By such default but present death? The world doth witness well.  
What mortal man that wilful was but so to him befell?  
The mighty Caesar ruling Rome, true justice was debarred,  
His will was taken for a law, and justice was refarde,  
His government the Roman crew did privily disdain,  
They hate him so, that he ere long by subjects hand was slain.  
Can Nero live when he began to cleave unto his will,  
When Rome misliked his government, and found his deeds so ill?  
With one consent the Roman state decreed that he should die:  
Unworthy for to reign in Rome his subjects all did cry  
And he that hated was, durst not unto their mercy stand,  
But slew himself, because he would not fall into their hand.  
And Philip, King Amyntas son, true justice did neglect,  
And how to remed wrong with right the man had no respect,  
He partial was for favours sake, not passing what was right:  
For while he lived all Macedon gave place to wilful might.  
The wronged might cry for remedy, whilst he did stop his ear:  
For whom he loud who durst accuse, as plainly did appear.  
Pausanias when he had sued unto the King for grace:  
And found in vain he did complain, his suit could have no place,  
He turned his malice from the man that first had done him spite:  
And caused revenge deservedly upon the King to light.  
For with his sword he stabbed the King, his folly to repress:  
Himself was cause of this his fall the doer did confess.  
What was the cause that Carthage fell and subject was at last  
The Empire great of Africa of Roman force to taste.  
Did not their wilful folly first their woeful state procure?  
The want of justice made the war a long time to endure,  
Until their Empire clean was lost, their chiefest forces spent:  
That Carthage fell for such a fault the world did much lament.  
Did Rome not fall for such offence? was she not overthrown  
By Brennus' Captain of the Gauls, whose force each where was known.  
For Allia brook can witness yet where thousand Romans died:  
The want of justice was the cause, it will not be denied.  
If Empires thus and Princes fell, what makes thee thus to moon  
O Hecuba, and vex thyself thus walking all alone?  
Let them that live in latter time example by us take,  
Fret thou no more: from sobbing breast all woeful wailing shake.  
Thy troubled ghost doth cry for ease, 'tis time, yea time to rest:  
Of Lethe flood now take thy fill, all things forepast digest.  
What furious fiend doth vex thee now to double this thy pain?  
In life thou knewest all kind of woe. What, will the Gods again  
Cause thee to see another world? a world I mean of woes,  
When thou hast felt such misery in elder time God knows.  
'tis past with us and remedles, wherefore no longer mourn:  
Shall we revenge the thing again that long time since was worn?  
No, let it pass and grieve no more, thy grief doth come too late:  
Be now content with this mishap, sith Gods assigned such fate.  
And yet (quoth he) to angry Gods an humble suit I make.  
That they upon the Trojan race will not revengement take.  
There lies an isle environed within the Ocean sea:  
Which Troyans won in time forepast, and holds it at this day.  
For Brutus he of Trojan race made conquest of that land:  
The Giants then that there did dwell, could not against him stand.  
The people that inhabit there, and in the Island dwell:  
Do fetch their pedigree from Troy▪ each Nation knows it well.  
A homely brag for Englishmen, to them a foul disgrace:  
To graft themselves on such a stock as was the Trojan race.  
But yet if they descend from us, as they do witness still:  
I pray the Gods to keep from them the desperate Troyans will.  
And that they may not follow us, but far from that digress:  
To purchase them eternal fame: and for their quietness▪  
Let this our death be life to them, that they may die with fame,  
Let Trojan wrack example be, unless they taste the same,  
As we have done in elder time: therefore let them take heed  
Lest that if wilful folly reign, accordingly they speed.  
And now (quoth he) O Hecuba, leave off and do not wail:  
Can vexing here in woeful sort, for sorrow passed prevail?  
Let sorrow pass, and banish grief, the time is past and gone  
When once a thing is remedles, then bootless 'tis to moon.  
If that I lived on earth again, in time I would prevent,  
But time did pass without regard, too late I do repent.  
And therewithal the grave old man in bitter sort did weep:  
He sighed sore from sobbing soul, his tears he could not keep.  
Thus Morpheus my fancy fed, that from mine eyes a stream  
Of tears did flow, which caused me soon to wake out of my dream.  
And lying broad awake at last still musing in my mind:  
Me thought I saw dame Hecuba that had such fate assigned:  
And Priamus that aged sire me thought was still in view:  
Their favour and their faces both, as if before I knew  
What they had been: and now again to memory did call  
Things done before in drowsy dream, as often doth befall.  
And therewithal I took my pen to note what fancy viewed:  
And orderly did set it down. Lo thus I do conclude.    
FINIS.