¶ The Fearful Fancies of the Florentine Couper: Written in Toscane, by john Baptista Gelli, one of the free Study of Florence, and for recreation translated into English by W. Barker.  
Pensoso d'altrui.  
Seen & allowed according to the order appointed.  
Imprinted at London by Henry Bynneman. ANNO. 1568.   

To the gentle Reader.  
IT may be, gentle Reader, that the baseness of the Title, will cause a contempt of this Book, as the homely shape of Alcibiades tables without, made men think, they had been of no better form within. But as they, being unfolded, were found very fair: So per adventure under so plain a cloak, thou shalt see such stuff, as may content thy mind. I remember that when the Florentines sent an embassage to the king of Naples who behaved himself very wisely, the King did ask what manner a man he was in his country, and when it was told him that he was an Apothecary: If the Apothecaries, (quoth the king) be so wise and learned in Florence, what be their Physicians? If I shall show thee, that the setter forth of this treatise was a tailor of Florence, thou mayst use the king's courtesy, and embrace the book the better, for if tailors be so well given there, what be they that profess learning? A Couper was the occasion why he took pain this way: which Couper of a plain man, had a good natural discourse, and as some men when they be old, will talk sometime with themselves: so the talk that old Just the Couper had with himself, when he could not sleep, did minister matter to the maker of this present book: who by other occasion hath made divers other to his commendation, in the Toscane tongue. I find that occasion may do much. For had not I had once a man, that used often to talk with himself, and a fellow, whose name was Just, as it might well be, I had no more remembered the talk of father Just of Florence, which I red when I was there, and thought no more of. But as john Baptista Jelly, for so is the Tailor called, and for his wisdom, chief of the vulgar university of Florence, when I was there, did publish these communications of Just the Couper, and his Soul, Gathered by one sir Byndo his nephew, and a Notary. So I have for a passing of the time, caused the same to be put in English, that my Country men may see how learning may appear in all sorts of men, and they deserve praise when they will use it well. And so (o Reader,) mayst thou use thy pleasure, and do as thou shalt think good.  
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¶ The Reasoning of JUST the Florentine Couper and his SOVL●. Gathered by his Nephew Sir Byndo.  

The first Reasoning. JUST, and his SOUL.  
IT is well nigh day, and I can not sleep, it shall be better to rise & do somewhat, than on this fashion to lie in bed and not sleep: for I can not think, that this only slumbering can be very healthful.  Soul. 
Well, I poor wretch may now assure myself, that I shall never have rest nor contentation in this body, neither young nor old.  Just. 
What voice do I hear, who is there?  Soul. 
When he was young I held him excused for his want of Living, although he held me always occupied in this his handy craft. For first it is necessary to provide for the needs of the Body, and then to seek for the perfection of the Soul.  Just. 
Who is there, I say? Who is that that whistleth in mine ear?  Soul. 
But now he is old, & hath sufficiently, I thought surely, that if he had given himself to contemplation, & sometime lived half in a tr●ce, that I having no cause to minister spirit to his senses, might withdraw me to myself, and enjoy those intellections of the first principles that I brought with me, since that I have with him learned none new.  Just. 
Do I sleep or no? it seemeth in my head: but soft, it may be some rheum, that makes a man think, he hath whistling in his brain.  Soul. 
And now he following the manner of old men (which the older they be, the more covetous they are) as soon as he waketh, he riseth to work.  Just. 
Oh, she files her words, and is in my head, and speaketh evil of old men. What thing may this be? jesus, jesus, God grant that no spirit be entered into my body.  Soul. 
Stay thyself Just, and be not afraid: for I am one that loves thee more, and have more care to preserve thee, than any other that is in the world.  Just. 
I can not tell so great love nor so great preservation: It is a great gentleness to enter into a man's head and never leave babbling. As for me, I believe thou art the wicked whistle, In nomine Patris, & filii, & Spiritus sancti. Amen.  Soul. 
Although it be well to bless thee as thou dost, because it groweth of a good meaning, proceeding from a good faith in thee, (without the which all your works be dead) yet now it is nothing to the purpose. For I am a christian as thou art, yea if I did not believe in Christ, thou shouldest be no christian.  Just. 
Seeing thou fearest not the Cross, thou art not the whistle as I thought, but more like to be the spirit, that as men say, walketh all the night, and therefore I will say a prayer to make thee go hence. Procul recidant somnia, & noctium phantasmata, hostemque nostrum comprime, ne polluanantur corpora.  Soul. 
Ah fool, if thou knewest who I am, thou wouldst not seek to drive me away, but rather pray me to tarry still, for if I should go from thee, thou couldst not live.  Just. 
Thou art full of words: dost thou think it a pretty sport to hear a noise thus talking in a man's head, which haste made me almost beside myself.  Soul. 
Thou haste well said, not knowing how that thou art half beside thyself. But when thou shalt know who I am, thou wilt not marvel.  Just. 
Then tell me what thou art, that I may assure myself of thee.  Soul. 
I am content, know thou Just, that I am thy soul.  Just. 
My soul how?  Soul. 
Yea thy soul, by whom thou art a man.  Just. 
Oh how can that be, am not I my soul myself?  Soul. 
No. For thou art one thing, and thy soul an other, and Just the Couper of Saint Peter the great, is an other.  Just. 
If I am not Just the Couper, than I am made an other, & therefore I said well, that thou wert some evil thing, which wouldst do to me, as was done to Grass the carpenter, who was made believe, that he was become an other man: but that shalt thou not do by me, for I will stand constant.  Soul. 
Be content Just, and move not thyself: for there is nothing that doth more hurt reason, and the under standing of man, than anger. Wherefore quiet thyself, and believe me, for that that I tell thee, is the truth itself.  Just. 
Well, let us put case that I am not Just (as thou sayest) but see, I do not grant thee it (for if I did so, what would other do) who am I then?  Soul. 
Thou art the body of Just.  Just. 
And who art thou?  Soul. 
The soul of Just.  Just. 
Th● what manner thing is Just  Soul. 
We two together, for neither is the body nor the soul, the man, but that compound thing that comes of them both. And mark, that when the soul is separate fro the body, it is called man no more, but a carcase, after the Latin tongue, and a dead body, after the vulgar speech, so as thou spakest before, when thou saidst, that wert half beside thyself.  Just. 
This is true, and I can not deny it. But hear me, if thou art my soul as thou sayest, what means this thy beginning to talk of thyself, without me, shalt thou ever departed from me▪ Alas, I would not that, for than I should die as thou sayest.  Soul. 
Have no doubt of the Just, for I have no less will to remain with thee, than thou hast to remain with me.  Just. 
O blessed be that my sweet soul.  Soul. 
Yea I pray thee that thou wilt not put me from thee.  Just. 
Marry God forbidden, believe not that, for I would live longer if I could, than did Mathusalem.  Soul. 
Yea, but that is not enough, for that may not do as one of our Citizens did, which was wont to say, that he never put away servant: but he handled them so, whom he liked not, as they went away of themselves.  Just. 
And what ways be they that I must keep, that thou go not from me?  Soul. 
Take heed thou make no disorder:, whereby the temperature of thy complexion, whereupon thy life is founded, do not come to such alteration, as it choketh th●▪ vital spirits, and force me to departed▪ from thee.  Just. 
And if I regard, myself, as thou sayest, how long wilt thou tarry with me?  Soul. 
So long as thy grounded moisture ●e not dried up: for thy natural heat shall be quenched,▪ as a lamp that lacketh oil.  Just. 
And whereof comes that?  Soul. 
Of age, the which is nothing else but a drying▪ up of the one, and a cooling of the other.  Just. 
O good Soul hears▪ me, teach me then if there he any way to restore this moisture that thou speakest of, that doth quench as the oil of the lamp, that it may continue longer.  Soul. 
There is none other way, but that which nature hath taught thee, giving thee appetite to eat▪ and drink: with one of the which heat, & with the other moisture, is restored.  Just. 
Then he that eats and drinks well, shall never die.  Soul. 
Rather the contrary, for too much nurture▪ do gender too great quantity of humours▪ and the most part not good, whereof come those infirmities, that violently do strangle the lively spirits, even as a light put out by force, and is the cause of death before our time.  Just. 
Oh how might a man then do it, by eating and drinking by rule?  Soul. 
Neither by this could a man live ever▪ for that restorement that is made, is of moisture & ●eate, which be not of the perfection, as those which nature have given, although they 〈◊〉 better or worse, in one and an other, according to the complexion. And Just, thou knowest that in this thing it haps, as doth in a vessel of wine, out of the which if thou takest every▪ day a drop and put in as much water▪ in space of time, it will come to pass▪ that it is no more wine, nor can not be called watered wine, but rather wined water, because there lacks in it▪ 〈◊〉 work the operation of wine: even so when moisture and heat restored by outward mean of eating and drinking, do overcome the natural, it can not do those operations that the natural doth, whereby the life falleth to decay.  Just. 
What is the cause, that among men that use all one manner of diet, some have longer life than other.  Soul. 
Complexion which one hath by nature better than an other, by which his hea●e is more temperate, and his moisture less apt to be dried up and corrupted, as in sanguine 〈◊〉 and all them that have their moisture less watery, & more ●●ry▪ Of the which thing thou mayst see evident experience in trees, among which, they that have watery moisture▪ as alders, willows, & salowes, and other like, endure but a while, & they that have airy, as pine, ●●rre & cypress, do live long time▪ and and all this cometh because the airy moisture, is more hardly dried & corrupted, than is the watery.  Just. 
Oh my soul, I do not remember, that since I had understanding, I have ever had so much pleasure as this morning: and forasmuch as I am a little assured of thee, and begin to believe that thou art my soul, and not a spirit, or a vision, as I thought at the first, I will ask thee certain questions.  Soul. 
Say what thou wilt, for I willingly answer thee.  Just. 
But before I do ask any thing, I would have thee tell me, why after we have been together lx year or more, thou haste deferred to discover thyself, and to reason with me as thou dost now: for if thou hadst done so before, I should perhaps have been an other manner man than I am now.  Just. 
There have been many causes that have kept me from doing of it, & the principal cause hath been thineage not apt unto it: for in thine Infancy and Childhood, thy members and parts be not apt to my services, and in thy growing and youthly time, the passions of the sensitive part, that then be most vehement, & in thy ripe years, care how to live at lust, hath not suffered me to withdraw▪ me into myself, as I have done now, when I am not letted of like things▪ although as yet▪ I can not do it, as I would, for thou being afraid every hour not to lose that thou hast (as other old covetous men) thou dost not suffer me to rest one half hour in the day: for when thou hast eaten or sleptte, thou runnest to thy work, whereby I being forced to minister vital spirits to thy senses and thy members, I never have any rest: and of this did I lament at the beginning (if thou remember'st) when I began to talk with myself.  Just. 
Well tell me (for this it is that I will ask th●● first) what is the cause why thou didst lament of me? Have I not always loved thee, even as thou hadst been my proper soul and my life, as thou sayest thou art?  Soul. 
Yes, but thou haste much more loved thyself, and where thou oughtest to have loved thyself for my sake, and have made much of thyself, that I might the better have wrought in thee mine operations, thou hast loved me for thy service: & so the part less worthy & less noble, hath ever commanded the more worthy & more noble, as it doth notwithstanding in the most part of men, that thou shouldest not think thou art alone: therefore have not I good cause to complain? But now I will not tell thee every thing, for it is day, & I will have thee go to provide for thy necessaries: for else I should want myself, to morrow as thou sayedst, I will return into myself as I do now, and will tell thee at large, whether I have cause to lament of thee or no.  Just. 
Oh, wilt thou departed from me?  Soul. 
Depart, no: for then as I told thee, thy death should follow.  Just. 
I had fear of that, and therefore did I ask thee.  Soul. 
I will unite myself again with thee till to morrow in the morning.  Just. 
Well: but my soul, I would y● to morrow when thou comest again to me, we do not as we have done this morning.  Soul. 
Why?  Just. 
I would if it were possible, that we should behold one an others face. For in this sort me think I am half mocked, and I have doubted, till a little while since, lest thou hadst talked in mine ear by a wile, as I have seen one do with a dead man's head, which had bored an hole in a plank at the foot of a desk, upon the which stood the dead head, by which a trunk did pass into the mouth of the head, that every man thought it had been a spirit: of the which thing I stand yet in doubt of thee. And finally I would have thee certainly assure me, whether thou art my Soul or no, as thou sayest.  Soul. 
Very well, I am content, I will deliver thee of this doubt by & by▪ hear and mark well what I say unto thee, and I will speak it softly, that no man hear it, if any be by, for it is a secret, which none other knoweth but Just the Couper, which is thou and I.  Just. 
I am sure: for this I know that none other person but myself, knoweth, therefore since thou knowest it, thou art also I: & I have no more doubt, Therefore that we may to morrow reason more effectually, I would y● one of us might see an other: for than it seemeth a man speaketh more the truth, than thus without seeing together.  Soul. 
It is impossible that thou shouldst see me as I am, because I am without a body, & I have neither figure nor colour: for the figure & the quantity be only in bodies, & colour can not stand but in the upper part of the same, whereby I am invisible: but I might well take a body, and so might I show me to thee.  Just. 
And how?  Soul. 
Thou professest a scholar of Daut, hast thou not red it in his purgatory? I could with my virtue informative, make me a body of air, giving it thickness, and after colour, even as the Sun makes the Air● gross & vaporous, whereof comes the rain bow. The which way the angels hold, and other spirits, when they will show themselves to men.  Just. 
Thou wilt make me believe some strange thing then.  Soul. 
What strange thing? hast thou not reddde in the Gospel, that Christ when he appeared to his disciples after his resurrection, that they should not believe he had one of these bodies, he said, touch me, for spirits have no bones.  Just. 
Then let us do so, but see with all, that thou partest not from me, nor go from my body, for I would not die yet  Soul. 
Well, I will find the way not to part at all.  Just. 
And how? for I will understand that, and not let this thing pass, for it is of too great a weight.  Soul. 
I will separate myself with my intellective part, and with only fantasy, without the which I could not understand, leaving in thee all my other powers, that is, vegetative, by the which thou livest, and sensitive by the which thou feelest, and discourse by memory, that thou might reason by the help 〈◊〉, things which thou knowest, and, demand me what thou wilt.  Just. 
And by this mean shall I not die?  Soul. 
No I say.  Just. 
Very well, remember then, I am out of peril, and I will not see thee before.  Soul. 
Doubt not I say, and lose no more time, but rise and go to thy business▪ for the sun is now risen.  Just. 
Well well, tomorrow we meet again.   

The two Reasoning. soul. IUST.  
SInce thou sleepest no more, arise & make thee ready, and light a candle, and in the mean time I will form myself a body of this air about, even as I said unto thee yesterday, that thou mayst see me, and we at our ease talk together.  Just. 
Oh my Soul, with a good will, but hear me. I pray thee remember that I said unto thee.  Soul. 
What?  Just. 
That thou makest no separation from me, whereby my death might ensue.  Soul. 
What needest thou to reply so oft? have I not said unto thee, that I will leave in thee all mine other powers, but only intellect and imagination, which is it that makes you understand, and not it that makes you live, for that is the power called vegetative the which you have common with trees.  Just. 
If I bear no peril of death, I am content, and if I do not agree unto it, blame me, for beasts live, and understand not.  Soul. 
Ah fool, dost thou esteem life so much, that thou wouldst rather choose to live fifty years without understanding as a beast, than ten with intelligence, as a man.  Just. 
For my part I had so: dost thou think it a pretty sport to die? I tell thee, I never saw any yet come again: and of Lazarus that was raised, they say he was never seen laugh afterward, and that was, because he was afraid to die once again, so fearful was the first unto him.  Soul. 
This thou speakest, because that part, which is void of reason, is it that now speaketh in thee, but if I were with thee, thou wouldst not say so.  Just. 
I know not that, and as for me, since I can remember, I have ever been of this mind, and yet thou haste been with me.  Soul. 
It is so, but as a servant, not as a mistress, as I ought, for 〈◊〉 thou hadst followed my counsel, and not the other called sensual, thou wouldst have done as Paul did & many other, which desired to be taken out of this life, where they knew they were Pilgrims, and brought home to their country.  Just. 
Thou beginnest to trouble my brain: till a man comes to the points of death, every one saith so, but when death is present, the man changeth his fantasy: remember our master that went to pray in the gardin, to see if he could escape death.  Soul. 
Ah Just, he did it not for that, but to show with these passions natural that he was a man, as he had showed by miracles, and with works supernatural, that he was God: but let us reserve this talk till a more convenient time: what meaneth it thou art so long about to light that match?  Just. 
I think it is somewhat moist, and the stone is not very good, and this iron hath almost worn out the s●éele.  Soul. 
Thou dost as the Poet Daut saith in his banquets. All artificers not cunning, do impute all the errors they do, to the matter they work on: why didst not thou say, because I am old and have the palsy, and miss the stone oftener than I hit it.  Just. 
That is true in deed, I cannot deny it, and would to God I did not so all soin other things, for I have delight to do nothing, and I am come to such a time of age, that every thing is irksome unto me, and very pleasure is unpleasant to me.  Soul. 
And yet wouldst thou not die.  Just. 
Dost thou not hear that I would not?  Soul. 
And dost not thou see that this life of thine is nothing but a death?  Just. 
Though it be, I have seen of them that be much more elder than I, and have no teeth, and go with their mouth to the ground, and yet would not die: rather I will say unto thee, that the elder a man is, the more doth death grieve him: and I have seen the proof in myself, for when soever my head doth but ache, my heart quaketh, and I begin to say: Would to God this be not my last request, for I did not so when I was young, rather do I remember, that I had a sickness that brought me even to the port of an other world, and yet I never thought to die, but rather laughed at them, that would have had me confessed: so as if I had died then, I had gone without any care or grief, which now I shall not do, for I think of nothing else, and live even as he made the declaration of the tyrants life Dionysius of Sicily, which tied a naked sword with a horse hair, and hung it over his head.  Soul. 
And what is the cause Just, as thou thinkest, wherefore death is more fearful to old folks than to young?  Just. 
I think because they are more entangled with the world, in the which they have lived so long.  Soul. 
Ah that is a very simple reason, and taketh place only in ●otyes as thou art, and I believe thou haste learned it of Trees, which the longer they live, the deeper root they make, and are then hard to be pulled up: but by the reasonable discourse which thou haste, and long experience which thou oughtest to have by thy long time thou hast lived, thou oughtest to have made a better reason.  Just. 
Be content, this may perhaps come of that thou sayest, that a man who hath lived long, and made a judgement by long experience more perfect, doth better know, how goodly a thing life is to him, and how much he ought to estéeine it and have it in price, wherefore it grieveth him the more to lose it, than it doth a young man that doth not know it: As it would grieve a man more to lose a jewel that knoweth the value thereof, than it would him that knoweth it not.  Soul. 
This thy second reason is not much worth neither, & though it were true, it maketh no less for him that would say the contrary, than it doth for thee.  Just. 
Which way? tell me.  Soul. 
Because if he that liveth getteth a judgement, by the which he knoweth better the things, he shall know also better how full of misery our life is. And if a man should not hope for a better in the other world, he should be the most miserable and unhappy creature in the universal world, which is manifestly against all right of reason, he being the most perfect of all, & having understanding, which is a most divine thing: by the which not only the holy letters, but also the Pagans and Gentiles, do call him lord of all other Creatures, and the end of all other things, which they say are made of nature for him.  Just. 
How canst thou prove, that a man should be the most unhappy creature of the world, if he did not hope for a better life than this?  Soul. 
Because in this life he is much disgraced, naked, without a house, not able to speak, having nothing to eat, unless he getteth it; and when he hath it, cannot use it, unless it be of other dressed: whereas other beasts be borne clad, some with one thing, some with an other, they have their houses, some under the earth, some in woods, some in floods, and the earth bringeth forth all things needful for them, without any pain: and what testimony canst thou have more clear of this, than Pliny, which in his consideration of all things, was so angry with Nature, as he called her mother of beasts, and stepdame of man.  Just. 
Well, I am content it be so, but what makes this to my reason? which y● sayst is aswell against me as with me?  Soul. 
Because, he that shall handle these matters reasonably & without any affection, he will conclude, that his felicity is not in this life, where the other brute beasts inferior to him have it (if they may nevertheless be called happy) of the which being certified by natural reason & the light of faith, he will not much regard life, but rather be troubled: with a desire to be out of it, and to go to the other, as they have done that have despised vice, & gone by the way of virtue, so as if thou hast no better reason, this is only in appearance, & concludeth nothing.  Just. 
Oh my Soul, whereof cometh that?  Soul. 
That is it I have thought to tell thee (O my body) for so must I call thee, to speak rightly, & not Just, as I have done & will do, because I will not trouble thy brain too much: but wilt thou that I tell thee?  Just. 
Yea, I pray thee, for I desire nothing so much.  Soul. 
It cometh of little faith: and surely there is nothing that causeth death both to old and young to be sorrowful, but that they believe too little.  Just. 
Ah, ah, a great Citizen of ours said well, who I think had in himself proved by experience, when he caused his grave to be made, half within the Church door, and half without.  Soul. 
Well, this thou must think Just, the men be like unto on us, whereof the young be soon taken. But as thy friend Daut faith.  

In vain the Net is 〈…〉 de,  
In vain the shaft is shot:  
At birds that have their wings at will,  
And for the snare care not.   Just. 
Oh God, I think thou sayest true, because I remember since I was a young man, that many times at certain devotions that we made in a company, & certain preachings that I heard, I was easily to be entreated to die: But now backea while, for I would make any contract, to live.  Soul. 
Ah, ah, how thinkest thou, is it not as I have said? but marvel not at that, for the manner of young men and women is easily to beleùe.  Just. 
I am of thine opinion, but hear me, the fault is more thine than mine, for thou art she to whom beli●●e doth appertain, and not I.  Soul. 
It is true that I ought to believe, never the less, the principal cause that maketh that I do not, is thyself.  Just. 
Oh, how so? see how thou wouldest cast the blame upon an other.  Soul. 
Thou knowest how I can have no knowledge whiles I am united with thee, but by the means of thy senses, the which, knowing nothing but sensible things, do force me thorough the great union that is between thee and me, to go by that path, which thou showest me, & that is by the things of the world.  Just. 
These he but words, for thou art one thyself, and as thou sayest, the principal, why then d●st thou not make me follow thee, and not thou follow me, if I go a wrong way?  Soul. 
I am bound within thee, and: so clogged of thy earthly nature, that I lose thee, greater part of 〈◊〉 strength; and ●a 〈…〉 lift up myself to heaven, as the perfection of my nature doth require. Besides this, the reasons with the which I should make thee assured of the light of faith, have not so great forc●▪ as have the knowledge of sense which thou ●euest me. But believe me Just, that death doth not grieve him that deleveth.  Just. 
This might as well be of him that believeth not, for●● might think that when he dieth, as his pleasures shall 〈◊〉, so shall his pains end also: of the which I think there is no less number in the world than of the pleasures, as thou didst say.  Soul. 
And who is he that thinketh there is nothing in the other world?  Just. 
Oh, oh, there is happily one or two. I would I had so many 〈…〉 ducats, as I have known & do know.  Soul. 
Oh, it had been aswell said, so many virtues had I, but I see Just that thou 〈◊〉 an earthly piece, and cravest nothing but earthly things.  Just. 
Oh, if there were nobody else, how many Popes have there been▪  Soul. 
What Popes, how like a 〈◊〉 speakest thou?  Just. 
I speak of them tha● ha●● interpreted 
The Pope, cause of some evil opinion of the Soul.  the book of Lazarus so wy●kedly, as they have said, that in the other world is nothing.  Soul. 
What book of Lazarus speakest thou of▪  Iust. 
Oh, as though y● knewst it not.  Soul. 
No not I  Just. 
Well thou shalt know it now. They say that Lazarus being asked after his rising, of many of his friends, what was in the other world, he answered, he would leave it in writing. Now, either that he forgot it, or that it is not lawful to speak of things of the other world, of one that had been there, as S. Paul said, when he died left a book sealed, with order, it should be given to the Pope, in the which nothing was written: wherefore the Pope that no slander should be given to the world, which with great desire, did look to hear what was there, did hide it, saying, he might not open it to any, but to his successor, & so the Bishops have done from one to an other till this day. Now they that have expounded the matter godly, affirming the cause to be, that it is not lawful for men to know the things there, farther than hath been declared to us by the scripture, be they that have been good men: & the other, that have thus interpreted the matter, that the meaning is, that in the other world is nothing, be they whom thou hast seen, which when they have come to their Papacy, have done that 
Pope's serve their turns.  they thought might serve their turn.  Soul. 
A Just, these be tales devised of such as thou art but I will say this unto thee, that if thou considerest well, thou never foundst any that can believe this, that there is nothing absolutely and without all respect: for they should have to much contentation and pleasure in this world, & they might fulfil all their desires without any trouble of ●●nde, which were no small thing, and they might also say, as that honest woman, which being taken in the sack of Genova, said: God be thanked, that I shall once have my lust, without any remorse of conscience.  Just. 
I think thou sayest truth, for I have heard there was once one in Florence that was called M. john de Cavi, a Physician & Philosopher, most famous, the which whilst he lived showed himself always to be resolved, that the Soul was mortal, nevertheless when he was a dying he said, by and by I shall be out of a great force. And divers other whom I have known to be of that opinion in their life, have been otherwise at their death. Whereof one Naum Grosso, and Lance Goldesmith living pleasantly, and believing in appearance, not much above the house top, yet at their death, the one called for a crucifix, but would have it given him by the hand of Donatello, that was dead. The other said, I recommend myself to him in the other world, that can do most, be it God or the devil, and he that most may, let him most catch.  Soul. 
Let these things go, for they have more of brutishness than of reason: and if thou remember'st, thou shalt find, that in thy time, there have been half a score & more, whom thou hast known to have been in their life scarce religious, & have seemed to believe too little, and yet have lived morally, and as behoveth to reasonable creatures, which at the point of death not being able never to quench a certain prick of reason, and a certain desire and acknowledging 
Immortality of the Soul.  of Immortality, although it were confused, and judging it natural, and knowing that natural desires be not vain, nor of things that can not be had, they have been reduced to God, and have confessed their error, and so recommended themselves to God, as he hath given them the light of Faith, whereby they have died Christian men. But let us leave this reasoning, and go light thy candle, because it shall be time by and by that thou go to thy work.  Just. 
Thou haste a thousand reasons, and I stayed to reason with thee. What aileth this tinder that it will not take? now thanks be to GOD, it is light. Oh, oh, good Lord, What a goodly thing? what a goodly Creature? Oh my Soul, blessed be thou, for thou art a fair thing.  Soul. 
Sit, sit Just, lest thou fall, for thou art old.  Just. 
I can not hold myself, but I must needs embrace thee, willing thee so, well, and never having seen thee before. But alas, what is the matter, I feel nothing, yet I see thee: Am I not well in my wits?  Soul. 
Just, thou makest profession of a Dautist, and thou dost not remember it, when thou shouldest. Dost not thou remember, that the like also happened unto Daut himself, when that he would have embraced Casella: And the cause is this, that we be as shadows, and do only show ourselves to the sight, but we can not be properly touched, because that we be without bodies: And this body which I have made me, being of the air, is also untouchable.  Just. 
Then you be (as a man might say) a thing of nothing.  Soul. 
Yea, following the opinion of the common people, which call that nothing, that is not compounded of earth, water of fire, making no account of air. I think if in this chamber there were not these chests, this bed and other things, thou wouldst say it were empty, if thou wouldst say truth.  Just. 
Should I not say it were empty, when nothing is in it?  Soul. 
Yes surely, but there should be somewhat in it.  Just. 
What should there be, when there is nothing? I fear me, thou wouldest make me believe glass worms to be lanterns.  Soul. 
The air should be there.  Just. 
What? air or no air, when a tub is empty, I know there is nothing in it, and I see it every day.  Soul. 
And what vessels be they that thou ever hast seen empty?  Just. 
Marry all those in my shop.  Soul. 
Ah fool, be they not full of air?  Just. 
No: for if thou lookest well, there is darkness, and where air is, there is light.  Soul. 
Then the night when it is dark, is none air. This is as ye speak of young babes, which you say have no souls, until they be baptised, which if it were true, it should follow, that neither Turk nor jew had soul: but let us leave this. Thou art little practised and followest the ignorant: but that thou shouldest not remain in this thy false opinion, thou oughtest to understand; that the air hath a body, as well as the water, or the earth, but it is a little more fine, & is dark of itself, if it be not lightened of the sunbeams, or of some other light. And further, thou must understand, that no empty called Vacuum, can be in Nature, that is to say, that in this universal world, there is no place, but is full of some body. And of this thou mayst make a thousand experiences every day, but I will teach thee but one, and that is, with that vessel wherewith thou watrest thy gardin: for stopping the the hole above, the water comes not out of the holes beneath: and that cometh of none other cause, but that the hole above; being stopped, the air can not enter in, whereby if the water should go out, that place should remain void, the which because Nature can not abide; she makes the water remain, contrary to her nature in that place.  Just. 
And who knows that that is the cause?  Soul. 
Who knows? every man that hath wit.  Just. 
I will tell thee the truth, these be certain things that I can not skill of, and I think they be toys to make a man mad. I do know that a vesselle that hath nothing in it, is void: and I can never believe otherwise, I hope that thou wilt not use me, as matthew servi was, who was made to believe that he was an other man than he took himself, and that he was a Carpenter, and made targets, whereby he entered into such a conceit, that when he came to houses where he used to go, and saw old Targets hang there, he began to say, that he knew of them that were made of his own hand.  Soul. 
Then see how hard it is, when one is far brought to understand a thing evil, to set him in the right way.  Just. 
What wouldst thou say, that when I would even now have embraced thee, and found nothing that I did embrace somewhat? ah.  Soul. 
didst thou not embrace the air?  Just. 
What air? I know I embraced nothing: within a while thou wouldst make me believe, that when my stomach is empty, it were full, the which if I would believe, I should die for hunger. God keep me.  Soul. 
I say unto thee, that if we should grant voidenesse, a thousand inconveniences should follow, as for example: If between thee & me were nothing, thou couldst not see me.  Just. 
Oh God, see how this gear groweth. For out of doubt it is contrary: 
Nullum vacuum.  for if there were any body between thee and me, than could I not see thee.  Soul. 
It is true, if it were such a body, that thy sight or imagination could not pass, thou couldst not see me, but that should rise of an other occasion, than a void place between thee and me.  Just. 
Tell me how this thing is meant, for I understand it not.  Soul. 
If between us were emptiness, & none air, them should there be no light. Wherefore the beams of thine eyes could not come to thee, nor my image come to thine eyes. For light is a quality, and quality is an accident, and no accident can stand without a subject that rules it: then if here were none air that did stay the light here could be none.  Just. 
As for me, I understand not what thou meanest.  Soul. 
Hear then, if thou canst understand me an other way: when thou standest by the fire, what is it that heateth thee?  Just. 
The fire: Who knoweth not that? this is a childish thing.  Soul. 
But that is not true.  Just. 
Oh what heats me, the wind? Thy matters be children's toys, if I would believe them.  Soul. 
The air heateth thee which toucheth thee, which is heated of the fire, for the fire not touching thee, can not heat thee, for no body can work in an other unless he touch it.  Just. 
What meanest thou by that?  Soul. 
I mean that if there were any empty place between thee and the fire, thou shouldest never be heated: For that heat which is an accident, having nothing to hold it, could not come unto thee, but being stayed by the air, which cometh to thee, that air that toucheth thee, being hot, doth heat thee also.  Just. 
Well, I will tell thee the truth. Thou mightest tell me this tale an hundred year, and I believe, I should never understand thee any thing to this purpose, and never believe thee.  Soul. 
I see this morning thou art not apt to receive the truth: therefore I will not talk of any other thing, and it is time thou goest to thy work: To morrow at the accustomed hour I will go from thee, and take this body and reason with thee, and thou shalt be better disposed to understand me, than thou art now.  Just. 
If we tarry until to morrow, thou shalt peradventure be better in thy brain: and tell me no things that no man understands.  Soul. 
But see this night thou keepest thy candle light: for I will not thou spend so much time about it to morrow.   

The three Reasoning. soul. IUST.  
THe crowing of the cock hath not served this morning (O Just) to wake thee, it is almost day, and thou stepest, thou answerest not, but stretchest thyself, what means it?  Just. 
I am half minded to be angry with thee.  Soul. 
Why art thou sorry I have broke thy sleep?  Just. 
For sleep I care not, yet it grieveth me thou haste waked me, for I have dreamt the most sweet and pleasant things that ever I saw.  Soul. 
What things?  Just. 
I can not so well tell thee: for they were not as I am wont to dream things that have neither head nor tail, and begin with one thing, & ends with an other. But me thought I was in a quietness, and without any trouble, remembering the reasons we have had together, and I will tell thee one thing, that I have understanded sleeping, that I could not do yesterday waking: of that Vacuum, or empty 
Nullum vacuum.  place, which yesterday would not enter, and I remember I have pierced a full barrel, and never could cause wine to come out, if I did not first open a vent: and I never considered that it came of that thou diost speak. And I will tell thee more, that now I know, how a swimmer a companion of mine was one day deceived, of one of out citizens that won certain fishes of him, which of them should stand longest under the water: and hear how he did. He desired to hold on his head one of these pots with two ears, saying he did so, because the water did hurt his head: and he that understood not the deceit, did grant it him: My friend set it on his head downward, and occupied the time that the air that was within, did not go out, and so no more water did enter than doth in a cup that is rineed downward, in such sort as he might stand as long as he would, having no water about his mouth. Thou seest what I have understanded by dreaming.  Soul. 
And whereof thinkest thou cometh this dream, since thou callest it a dream?  Just. 
What know I? whereof cometh other, that I have all the year?  Soul. 
No Just: for this did rise of me only, and the other that thou dreamest, riseth of mine other inferior 
Dreams.  parts, and of spirits, which do represent to thee sleeping, the images of those things that Fancy hath impressed in the blood, by the mean of the senses, and therefore many times we dream in the night those things we saw in the day, and the more the blood is altered, the more strong and disordinate things we dream, as thou mayst know by thyself, when that thou haste been sick or troubled with a fever, or when thou hast been well washed with wine, in the which (if it be good) thou thou haste delight.  Just. 
It hath pleased thee also as I think, for I never drunk but when I was whole Just, of whom thou art so great a part, as thou sayest.  Soul. 
Ah, ah, thou haste now learned so much philosophy, as thou knowest, that neither the soul, nor the body of itself, is man.  Just. 
I can not tell, I have told thee.  Soul. 
Surely, when soever one is touched where it grieveth him, he crieth: But be not angry just, I will not for all this, speak of thee any villainy. For in very deed, it is is not altogether evil to me, for good Wine maketh good Blood, and good 
Vinum.  blood doth make the spirits more clear, whereby the senses may the better help to work my operations.  Just. 
I looked thou wouldst have said: And good blood maketh a good man: and the good man goeth to Paradise.  Soul. 
Make thee ready, make thee ready quickly, and sit down that we may talk together at leisure.  Just. 
Sit thee down till I be ready.  Soul. 
Ah Just, thou dost not yet understand, that I am one of the substances without body, and immortal, and suffer none of those things that do offend thee: and that that I will now say unto thee, may be a mean to make thee believe, that thy dreaming this morning, was not a dream in deed, because it proceeded not altogether, as the other, which thou hast wisely called dreams, of the sensitive part, which thou hast common with other brute beasts which do dream also, but it was as I told thee, only my work with the help of thy senses. For whiles thou wert dreaming, finding myself free, I did retire into myself, and with my part divine (for so may I call it, having it of God) I did work in thy parts apt to understand, and to learn those intellections and conceits, which thou confessest thou never hadst before: whereby thou mayst easily persuade thyself (that although I am united to thee in such sort, as it seemeth I cannot be without thee) that I am immortal, and can well be without thee, seeing I can do some operation without thee, as thou hast perceived.  Just. 
I will tell thee the truth, thou dost persuade so well, that thou sayest that I can not but believe thee, because I think, that thou being my part (I mean when I am perfect Just) that thou oughtest not to deceive me. But now I am ready, and I will set me down, as thou badst me, and ask thee certain questions more quietly than I have done.  Soul. 
Say what thou wilt▪ for I will satisfy thy desire in all things that I can.  Just. 
The first thing I would know of thee, is: Why thou shouldest lament of me, for the first time that I heard thee speak in my head, as I remember, thou saidst, thou never hadst rest in me, being young, and less couldst hope to have any now when I am old.  Soul. 
Just, never repeat that, for if I did lament of thee, I had good cause.  Just. 
I do not remember that ever I did any thing against just, for than I had done it against myself, and then have I done nothing against thee, seeing thou sayest that thou and I, be Just.  Soul. 
It is so, but thou haste not done as I would.  Just. 
How can that be? for I never knew till now, that any other was in myself, but I: but if thou lovest me as thou sayest, I pray thee thou wouldst tell me wherein I have offended thee, that at least the little time we have to live together. I may no more offend thee.  Soul. 
Well Just I am content. Dost 
Anima nobilissima creatura.  thou not know that I am the noblest creature that is from the Heaven or the Moon downward?  Just. 
Yes, and I have heard it preached many times.  Soul. 
Dost thou not know also that I am all divine, all spiritual, made of the proper hand of God, after his similitude, & preferred afore all creatures that be in this world?  Just. 
I have read all thou sayst, in the Bible, but of man, not of thee only, and let us use it so, that thou dost not attribute it to thyself only, where I also have a part.  Soul. 
Just, our union, whereby of us is made man, is so marvelous, that what is spoken of the one is spoken of the other, as Aristotle doth well show, saying, that he that saith the Soul loveth or hateth, might as well say the soul spinneth or soweth: nevertheless this dignity thou haste of me, because thou art earthly, corporal, & without reason: but I cause that thou art called a person divine & a creature reasonable.  Just. 
And how?  Soul. 
It were a long work to make thee understand that, let it suffice thee that I being with thee & becoming thy form by mean of thy vital spirit, which is the ●and the holds us together, I make thee a creature that taketh part with substance separate, which you call Angels, where thou didst only participate with brute beasts, whereof, we being united together, have been called of some Philosophers, the band of nature & the world, 
Vinculum mundi & naturae.  for in thee do end the earthly & bodily creatures, & in me beginneth y● divine & spiritual & be only one undivided, made so marvelously of two contrary natures 
Miraculum naturae.  (as I have said) the Mercury Trimegist did call it that great miracle of nature.  Just. 
I confess all this to be true, but wherefore dost y● praise me, this makes not for thy lamenting of me.  Soul. 
Hear me, and thou shalt see if I have cause to lament. I being so noble a creature, have not (as reason is) mine end and my perfection in this universal, nor in those things whereof that is made as have tother creatures inferior to me, whereof if thos● markest well, God, after he had created all things of the world, he carried into Paradise only man, that he being separated from other, might have used the operations there, that were convenient to his nature, from whence he, by his fault, was most miserably driven out, (which thing grieveth me more) that rightness taken from him, that wa●●● 
Original justice.  us, that is to say, original justice, by whose mean thou shouldest have been obedient to me, and shouldst not have striven against me as thou haste done since.  Just. 
Well, well, I have so many times heard the same things told in the Pulpit, that thou needest not tell ●●● them again, therefore let us come to the conclusion.  Soul. 
If thou be not altogether a fool, thou mightest have gathered of these my reasons, that my end & thine (for that I speak, I speak of man) is not in these bodily and earthly things, for that is of other beasts which lack reason, but it is only in the contemplation of truth, by the which, beholding the 
Contemplation of the truth.  marvelous works of the mighty hand of God, a great part in this world, may be had, whither I was sent from God, and united in thee, that by the mean of thy senses, and thy help, I might get all those knowledges, that the nature of man can do, that those should be a ladder to bring me to consider the truth itself, without any vail, whereof should have grown my felicity, joined with a blessedness.  Just. 
All this that thou hast said, is well: but wherein have I hindered thee, or ever annoyed thee, that thou canst complain of me?  Soul. 
I will not speak Just, of those impediments common, that rise of thee & thy proper nature, weak, and inclined to love & seek only earthly things, but I will only lament of thee in this, that thou hast ever held me occupied in so vile exercise as thy craft of Couperage is: what grief thinkest thou Just hath it been to me, that I being so noble a creature, have ever been forced to minister to thee all my knowledge and power, that thou shouldest make barrels, pitchers, bows for babes, and patens with such other like, and that only for thy business I must leave the contemplation of the beauty of this universal, & hold mine eyes down upon a thing●o base & contrary to my nature. Tell me, have I not cause to lament of thee?  Just. 
These thy reasons seem to me, that in one thing they be true, & in another no. As touching the consideration of thy nature they be true, but in consideration of mine & of man, not so, for them all handy crafts should be taken away, & thou know'st how necessary they be, not only to me, but to thee also, for when I suffer thou canst not do thy works perfectly.  Soul. 
I will not take away manuel crafts, for I know well how many things man hath need of, and thyself particularly, without the which thou shouldst fall into a thousand infirmities, & a thousand annoyances, which should let me so, as I should less give myself to contemplation than I do, being as I am.  Just. 
How so, if all souls would that those men of which they be part, should give themselves to contemplative life & study?  Soul. 
No I say, for I would that they to whom is by lot given an unperfect body, or compound of humours or evil complexion, or that have the instruments of the senses by some impediment that nature hath found contrary to her intention, not well apt to do their offices, were I say, those that should have patience to exercise themselves in these base things.  Just. 
The thing should surely turn to all one term, for there should be more that would apply bandy occupation, though liberal science, because the more part be of them that be borne of that sort, that are little bound to nature, & commonly be called men gross.  Soul. 
Thank the little wit of men, which, when they sow a field of corn, they use all diligence that the seed be good and clean, and the land well in order, but when they will get a child, they 
Error in generation of children.  have little count of the one, and less of the other: the more part seeking after it when they have supped, or be otherwise altered by eating and drinking, whereby it is not to be marveled, though there groweth more Sloes than Damasins, for so will I speak for the honour of man's nature, which had more need than other creatures, not to be in love but at certain times, seeing he doth so little work that knowledge that is given him of God, whereby he might put a bridle to his unreasonable passions: but let us leave this, for it toucheth not me, for I was allotted to a body well complexioned, & endued with very good instruments, wherewith the senses be exercised, as well interior, as exterior, and made lively with a blood so good; that engendereth so clear and subtle spirits apt to do any operation perfectly: of thee, thus I say, that thou were apt to do any noble exercise, aswell contemplative as active, and yet hast thou always kept me in making of slippers: what sayest thou now, have I cause to lament or no?  Just. 
What wouldst thou I should have done? I was set to this art of my father being a child, which as thou knowest, did occupy the same: beside I was poor, and not able to go to my book.  Soul. 
If thou hadst been rich, & able to make thine own choice, and of age to know, I would have otherwise lamented with thee than I do, whereas now I hold thee excused for this cause.  Just. 
Then tell me wherein thou haste cause to complain.  Soul. 
I may complain because that thou being come to the age of discretion, and knowing thee in so good a trade, as thou didst lay up money every year, that now thou dost not begin to think of me, seeking to give me, though not in all, yet in part, some perfection, as thou didst to thyself of wealth and commodity.  Just. 
Oh how should I have done it?  Soul. 
In giving thyself to some science, that might have brought me perfection and contentation, & beginning to open to me the way of knowledge of the truth, which as I have said unto thee, is my chief end.  Just. 
Be short, and tell me what I must have done.  Soul. 
Thou must (I say) have given thyself to the study of science, dividing thy time so, as thou shouldest not 
Labour and study.  have let thy work.  Just. 
And wouldst thou that I should both have played the Couper and the Student?  Soul. 
Yea would I.  Just. 
And what would the people have said?  Soul. 
What say they at Bolonia of one james Fellay there, which keeps his occupation, & yet hath profited in learning, that he may compare with many that have done nothing else but study: and in Venice an Hosier that died of late, and was very well learned?  Just. 
What time should I have had to it?  Soul. 
So much as should have sufficed, which thou didst spend sometime in play, or in going abroad babbling by the way: for dost thou think that they that study, do study ever? if thou lookest well thou shalt see them most part of the day walking abroad: remember of Matthew Palmer thy neighbour, that ever was a Pothecary, and yet got so much learning, as the Florentines sent him ambassador to the king of Naples, the which dignity was given him only to show a thing so rare, that a man of so base condition should have so noble conceits, as to give himself to study, not leaving his exercise: and I remember I have heard that the king said: What Physicians be at Florence, when their Apothecaries be so singular men?  Just. 
I know thou sayest true, and I had inclination enough, but two things caused me that I never had no mind that way, the one was the base art that I was of, the other, the pain that I have heard of many that is in study.  Soul. 
Thou art even fallen where I would, alleging this second cause, for as for the first, if these examples of our time which I have named do, not suffice thee, let the ancient examples of 
Philosophers used some occupation.  those old Philosophers suffice, which used all some occupation, and specially of Hippias, which did shape and sow his clothes, did make trappers for horses, and many other things: but to the other I answer thee, that in the world is not so easy a thing as to study and to get learning.  Just. 
Thou tellest me a thing, which I thought the contrary.  Soul. 
Hear me and I will prove it. 
Learning easy to be gotten.  Every thing helped of his proper nature, getteth his perfection without any pain: and perfection is the knowledge of verity, wherefore a man in getting it, should have no pain at all. Of this conclusion, the propositions being true, I know that thou hast no doubt at all: but because thou mightest doubt of them I will prove them, and first the manner. Tell me, thinkest thou the earth endureth any pain in going to the centre?  Just. 
I thinken not.  Soul. 
And doth the fire take any pain to mount to his Sphere?  Just. 
Less.  Soul. 
And do the plants take any pain to be nourished, to be augmented, and to bring forth their seed? and the beasts to ●oa●e and gender like to themselves?  Just. 
No, for I see every one doth these operations if he be not letted.  Soul. 
Then thou knowest that nothing dureth any pain to get his perfection, because the earth is only perfect when she is in her Centre, and the fire when he is in his Sphere, where he hath no contrariety, and the trees when they become to their terms & brought forth their fruits, & the beasts when they have gendered like to themselves to maintain their kind, which they can not do in themselves singular, because so doing they grow more like their, first mover. Now I have only to prove thee, y● them and perfection of man is to understand, but I know that the desire of knowledge the which thou seest to be in every man, doth assure thee of it.  Just. 
Oh, I would not have been dead yesterday for nothing in the world, for thou haste opened mine eyes so well, that I see now that I never saw afore in three score years and more.  Soul. 
I will saay more unto thee, it were more easy for Just to understand a work of Aristotle, than to make a Pitcher or a pair of Soccles for a Friar.  Just. 
Now thou speakest of a great matter.  Soul. 
I speak as it is, and hear the reason. What pleasure hast thou in making a pair of patens, or a vessel, or such like?  Just. 
I have pleasure, because I see I gain thereby, and so provide for my need that riseth every day.  Soul. 
Let us leave gain, for that also cometh of study, but what other pleasure hast thou?  Just. 
None surely.  Soul. 
And I less, rather I have an extreme passion, knowing (as I have told thee) and finding myself occupied in such things vile.  Just. 
Then what is the cause? seeing it is (as I see) that so few men be given to study, and chief of them that might, and want not the way to do it.  Soul. 
Of their evil bringing up & 
Evil bringing up, hindrance to learning.  government of their fathers, and of their evil way of life, which is now in the world, and also in the fear which they make that be counted learned, showing that study is the hardest thing that a man can do.  Just. 
Thou sayest truth, for I have happed many times to hear them say so, & they play as physicians, which always makes the diseases of their parents to be grievous and dangerous, to show; that if they recover them, they have done a great cure.  Soul. 
Ah Just, would God that this occasion only moved them to do so, but they be moved of an other worse principle.  Just. 
What is it, tell me?  Soul. 
I must have more time, and now it is broad day, to morrow if thou will reason as thou hast done this morning, I will tell thee, that and other things.  Just. 
With a good will, and I pray thee too.  Soul. 
Well, I will tarry till thou callest me: for I will no more wake thee, to grieve thee as thou wert this morning.  Just. 
So will I do.   

The four Reasoning. IUST. soul.  
Have slept evil this night, God I what would it mean? yet I find no evil at all. Some other will say; that these be the things which the infirmity that all men covereth, I mean Age, bringeth, to sleep evil, and watch worse: but it shall be better for me, since I am entered into this Fancy, to talk with my Soul, with whom I have had such pleasure these three rhymes that we have talked together, that every hour seemeth a thousand year to renew the same: yet may it be a Dream, whereof I stand half in doubt: for I never heard that any such thing hath chanced to any other before this time: and though it seemeth that David in his Psalms sometime talketh with her, as in the beginning of the Service, where he asketh her why she is so melancholy and troubled, yet could I never learn that she made him any answer as mine doth me: so as mine may well be a dream: yet I can not believe it: for I know many things which I did not before. But now that I am sure I sleep not, nor dream not, I will see, if she will reason with me, as she hath done, and call her as she appointed yesterday in the morning I should do. My soul, O my soul.  Soul. 
What wouldst thou Just?  Just. 
See it is true, that I did not dream. I would we should talk a while together, as we have done, and that thou wouldst content me, in that thou didst begin to speak of yesterday in the morning: But see, I will not that thou go out of me any more, as thou hast done these two mornings: For I pass not now to see thee: and I know I have been in great peril, and also played the very fool to put myself in such hazard, whereupon my life lay.  Soul. 
What peril was that?  Just. 
As thou sayest, thou hadst a great will that I should study, wherefore when thou hadst been from me, and minded to return no more to mae, but for to enter into the body of some Studente, then should I have been a body without a Soul: and if not as dead, yet at least one of the base beasts.  Soul. 
Doubt it not Just, thou art in no such danger: for if thou remember'st well, I told thee I did not in all separate myself from thee, but only with my part divine, the which is such, as being immortal may be without thee.  Just. 
Very well, and because she may be without me, therefore I fear, because I would not become a beast, I say, and see one other with my brain and with his, sell me by and by, and then other, every day ten times.  Soul. 
Although I can be without thee, which shall be after that separation that death shall make of us, nevertheless I can not inform any other body but thee, till the day of judgement.  Just. 
Wherefore?  Soul. 
Because of that perpetual quality that I must inform thee, and none other.  Just. 
What is that quality thou speakest of?  Soul. 
It is a certain convenience and inclination that I have to work by thee, to begin to taste my perfection, which was not given me of God at my creation, as to angels, which if I had, I should have no need of thee. And this is the only thing that maketh me differ from other souls, because, we being not different in kind, as of that other beasts, forasmuch as we be reasonable, & they not, nor can not be different in number, because we be not material, it should follow, that we were all one thing: and this consideration hath brought many great men into greatest errors: but one of us is different from an other, by that quality & respect, that she hath with her body, and not with other.  Just. 
I will be plain with thee: I understand not this matter.  Soul. 
Marvel not, for Duns (whom they call the subtle Doctor, who thought he understood it better than other, giving it the name, Eccheita, a name altogether strange to the barbarous ears, much more to the Latins, did not understand it perfectly himself.  Just. 
Then let it go: for I would not that we should enter into these toys, and then hap to me as did to him, that going about to blind other men's brains, did so blind himself, as he was buried quick. Which thing might well happen to me, if I were found once without thee: therefore tarry with me, as thou haste done, for I will no more abide the peril, and I care not now to see thee.  Soul. 
I see thou haste such fear of our separation, that it is full time I deliver thee of it. Understand, that although I have told thee, I go out of thee, yet I never did, nor can do it, but by death, and that is because I am thy form, & am not in thee, as a mariner in a ship, as many have believed.  Just. 
This is a new trick, what? I have seen thee.  Soul. 
It appears s● to thee.  Just. 
Appear? wilt thou make me believe I see not a thing when I see it?  Soul. 
I say it did but appear so.  Just. 
Which way?  Soul. 
I will tell thee, I moved from those visions and images, which thou hast in fantasy, and represented them to thy virtue imaginative, as I do when thou dreamest, and so it seemeth thou didst see me.  Just. 
Canst thou deceive me after this sort?  Soul. 
I can, and in this sort spirits deceive men many times, and therefore their apparitions be called fantastical.  Just. 
What is it true there be spirits in deed?  Soul. 
Dost thou doubt?  Just. 
I can not tell, I have heard say of many learned men, that they be things feigned, & things that appear only to certain simple men, & that they come sometime of melancholy humours, the breed by hearing of strange things.  Soul. 
They be of those learned men that think they understand all things and show, they have red little in Stories, or in Scripture, and little to believe in the same, which is worse. I tell thee that spirits be, and besides this, make them that believe them, to seem they be sometime an other thing: hast thou not heard that they that be witches, think they be Cats?  Just. 
Be these sorcerers also true?  Soul. 
Would God they were not true, which he suffereth for our sins. Read what the Count of Mirandula, writeth of one that he had in his hands. And the Canonists would have foreseen that it had not been true, which have made a particular law of the witched and enchanted.  Just. 
Surely that is a great argument, but let it go. Thou hast taken a great weight from my heart, saying thou wilt not go from me. But now let us turn to our talk yesterday in the morning, tell me, whereof comes it, that these Doctor's do● so discourage other from study, showing them it is a greater pain than to carry the stone of Verma, (as the Proverb saith.)  Soul. 
Thou knowest Just, that the least part of men be good, but whether this cometh, either of the infirmity of the flesh, or of evil custom, or of little religion, I will not now dispute.  Just. 
Thou sayest truth, there be more bad than good, and do so increase, that I fear we are nigh the end of the world. Thou seest how we have grown worse & worse these fifty years. I will not reason of Popes, Cardinals 
Popes. etc. Worse and worse.  and Priests, and less of Friars, that thou shouldest not by and by proclaim me a Luterane. But consider children of ten years old, how they be without reverence, without shame, bold, dishonest, and mock a man of fifty years. Alas, I remember that in my time, we passed twenty years, before we knew what Venus, or Bacchus was: and now so soon as they be borne, the one is given them for a nurse, & the other for a master.  Soul. 
Ye may thank their good education and the small wisdom of their fathers, which think it a proper thing that a little child can speak an unhonest word, or taste well of wine, and do not mark the evil to come, which they get thereby, in teaching them such things: but let them alone, for they will repent it after when they be older, but let us return to our talk. Thou must know, that the goodness of men, (I speak not only of it that is required of him that will live like a Christian, but of that that is convenient for man) cometh of love, the which doth bring a desire and gladness of an others weal.  just 
Thou sayest well, and truly if men did love one an other, we should need no law at all, for then there should be no murder, no theft, no usury, no robbyng● and till end we should live in such a quiet, as here men did in the golden age.  Soul. 
So also evilness groweth of a contrary to love, which breedeth envy, and sadness for others weal, and therefore if thou considerest well, thou shalt find, that all maligning men be envious.  Just. 
Not only they be envious, but also foolish.  Soul. 
Because foolishness is also an imperfection of man, and not being ruled with a good mind, produceth infinite evil effects, and because fools cannot purchase that riches and those honours that they would by the mean of their sufficiency and virtue, they seek to procure it by a thousand ways unjust and unlawful, so as they think they can do it closely, and care not for the ruin of other, a thing so wicked, that even the brute beasts do abhor, which, when they will needs do evil only with force, where as men showing themselves friends, maliciously and with a thousand frauds do deceive one an other every day.  Just. 
Oh my soul, thou speakest wisely and truly, and he that will see this thing well, let him look among us artificers, and he shall find that all the malicious & foolish be envious.  Soul. 
And so it happeth among the learned, where, as well the foolish as the evil, do nothing else, but pluck men from study, the foolish to be esteemed, which they should not, if their foolishness were known, covering it only with reproach, but doing nothing. The malicious, because an other should not joy that good and that honour, that they think they have.  Just. 
What way hold they?  Soul. 
They say, there can not in the world be found a thing more hard than it: and for all that as I said unto thee this other day, because to the nature of man, there is nothing so convenient, without doubt it is the more ease.  Just. 
In good faith, in good faith, I begin to open mine eyes, and to see that I did not before.  Soul. 
Thou must know that when Letters find a man wise and good, they make him more wise and more good: And when they find a man a fool, and evil, they make him more foolish and more evil. Dost thou not see that there have been of these learned men, that having no regard at all, I will not say of the law of god, which they ought to esteem above all things, but of themselves and of the world, to appear learned, have written a thousand works in the hurt and offence of other men. I will not speak of them that bear the sign in their forehead of that they be, as the Cortigian, and the Dialogue of Usury, although the one be sufficient to corrupt the honesty of the Roman. Lucrece, & the other the liberality of Alexander Magnus, but I mean of them that under the shadow of good, do teach all naughtiness that can be thought, as the book Of the three Chastities, the Solution of Miracles, which were a good deed to take them from the world,  Just. 
Oh thou sayest truth, and they that have the charge ought to see, that every thing were not put in print.  Soul. 
What thing can make thee more assured of this than experience: which if thou markest diligently, it shall show thee, that all learned men, being good of Nature, seeking to communicate those good things that God hath given them, will exhort all men in such sort, as his state and ability requireth, to give himself to virtue: and if they see a carpenter, they will at least encourage him to the mathematicals. As in our days that Image of God M. julian Caruine, (for so will I call him, because that so willingly, after the similitude of him, he doth communicate his good things) did to Camerino, the Carpenter, whom he hath made so expert in that faculty, as he peradventure is not second to any other that in Latin, or Greek, (of the which he hath no knowledge) have studied in the like Science: and so should exhort an Apothecary to study Physic: and to be short, every man to seek to obtain those things, which they think may be in any thing profitable or honourable to them.  Just. 
Thou sayest truth certainly, for I remember, that Matthew Palmer of whom thou spakest yesterday, did never other but exhort every man, of what sort soever he were, to give himself to Virtue, using to say, that there was such difference between a man that knoweth somewhat, and him that knoweth nothing, as was between a painted man & a man in deed. And master Marcello likewise, which was my neighbour, and a man not only good, but goodness itself, to every child that had asked him his opinion of any matter, he would have answered all that he knew: so desirous was he to communicate his virtue, alleging oft that saying of Plato, that one man was borne to help an other.  Soul. 
What need we more? Did we not see this other day that most holy and learned old man, master Francis Verino, a philosopher so excellent, as no man in his age was like him, who reading philosophy, and seeing Captain Cepe sometime come to his lecture, and understood no Latin, he began by and by to read in the vulgar, that he also might understand: and a little before he died, to show his exceeding goodness, reading openly in the study of Florence, the twelve book of Aristotle, he did expound it in the mother tongue, that all men might understand it, affirming as S. Paul, that he was debtor to the unlearned as to the learned.  Just. 
Such be the good men. But can those things of philosophy be taught in the vulgar tongue?  Soul. 
Why not? Is not the vulgar 
Vulgar tongue.  tongue as apt to utter her conceits, as the Latin and other?  Just. 
I have (as thou knowest) no great knowledge in those things, and therefore I cannot answer thee, but I hear of the learned of our time, that they can not.  Soul. 
Just, this is one of the things which envy maketh them speak, but it will not be long, (thanks be given to our most noble Duke, who continuing to exalt her as he hath begun) ere those spectacles shall be taken from our eyes, that make every thing seem yellow: nevertheless, men might have seen clear enough a good while since, if they had well considered the writing of friar Jerome of Ferrara, who wrote in this our tongue the most high and hardest things of philosophy, no less easily and perfectly than any writer of the Latin tongue.  Just. 
Was not this friar Jerome a Florentine?  Soul. 
He was, & consider how much it holp him to come and dwell in Florence, (I mean for the tongue) which was such as every man may know the difference that is between the things he wrote before and since.  Just. 
That I know not, but I have heard that without grammar a man is not learned.  Soul. 
A Notary can not be without grammar, and yet it is Coccoribus grammar that ends every word in a consonant: but let us leave th●se trifles, grammar or to speak better, the Latin is a tongue, and tongues be not they that make men learned, but understanding and science, for otherwise it should follow, that the jew that is a goldsmith at Pecors' corner, which can speak eight or ten tongues, should be the best learned in Florence, and the Starling that was given to the Pope Leo, should be better learned than these that have only the Latin, because he could say good day, and many other things both in Greek and Latin.  Just. 
Ah, ah, thou art disposed to dally: this Starling knew not what he said, but did only speak what he was taught.  Soul. 
Thou makest good my word, that the things and not the tongues make men learned: and although they be signified by tongues, yet he that only understands the words, shall never be learned: tell me if this proposition of Aristotle were spoken to me (Every thing, every Art, and every Discipline desireth that that is good) in vulgar, and I understand it, what need have I to have it spoken in Greek or in Latin?  Just. 
I can not tell, but they say so.  Soul. 
Let them say their pleasure, but this is truth, and I will tell thee more, that the understanding of things is not sufficient to make a man learned, but hath need also of judgement.  Just. 
This I believe well, for I have seen in my days many learned men fools, which have not been worth two handful of nuts, and yet have studied enough: and I remember amongst other one Michael Marullo, which was one of those Grecians that fled from the loss of Constantinople, & was very well learned, as men said, and yet he was a fond foolish man, wherefore one day one Bino Corrierie his companion said thus merrily to him. M. Michael, men say you are very skilful in grammar, and in Greek, it may well be, for I understand nothing that way, but in vulgar, me think you are a very fool.  Soul. 
See, how thou by little and little beginnest to see light, I say unto thee, that they say ●o only for envy, and wilt thou see it? now that they see that Latin letters be made somewhat more vulgar than they were wont, they begin to say, that he that knoweth not Greek, knows nothing, as if the spirits of Aristotle and of Plato (as that honest Cortigian said) were shut in an alphabet of Greek, as in a glass, and a man learning it, might drink at one draft as he doth a syrup.  Just. 
Truly thou sayest truth, and they say so.  Soul. 
Then what will they do fifetene or twenty years hence, when the Greek tongue shall be also as common, to so many at this day studying it? then they shallbe forced to run to another, and for example to say, he that knows not the Hebrew, knows nothing, and so from one tongue to an other, and in th'end be driven to come to the Biskay tongue, from whence they can go no farther.  Just. 
Why so?  Soul. 
Because that tongue can not be learned nor spoken but of them that be borne in that country: but I can say unto thee, that they must do other things like unto these, if they will be counted learned: for now men begin to do as children do, that have no more fear of Robin good fellow.  Just. 
What mean you by that?  Soul. 
I mean, it will not serve now a days, to say I have been at study, or at the University, for men care not, till they see an experience thereof.  Just. 
I hear of certain young men that have begun a certain Achademia, only that men by that experience may give some proof of themselves.  Soul. 
And thou seest how they repine at it, and because they see some man well liked, of whom before was no name, they begin to find fault, and affirm that it will hinder the reputation of good letters, and that men only study for a show, and in the end it shall be as Burchiell saith.  
What a devil have these silk worms in their bodies, that always eat leaves and deliver silk?  Just. 
This Achademia, hath done to the learned, as the siege did to the brave, for where at the first it was enough to say he was brave, and every man had fear of him, now no man cares for such shadows, in so much as a little child, if he have displeasure done him, will not be afraid with a knife to strike a soldier: and of this more than one example hath been seen.  Soul. 
Thou haste said truly Just, and though these that give not themselves altogether to study, can not exceed them that be so learned, yet they discover them, and cause that they can not now feed men with empty spoons, as it was once said to one of them, as they could do, and have done to this day: and in deed it was a gay thing for them, that when they did say, it is so, every man must agree to their word, as Pythagoras disciples did: but now they must show wherefore and why, if they will be believed: but let them alone. I say unto thee, that this opening of eyes which this Achademia hath done to men, is treacle for them.  Just. 
And dost thou believe in deed that they that favour this trade, shall be able to bring to perfection in time the sciences in our tongue, as they say they desire?  Soul. 
For their sufficiency, I dare say unto thee, I know many very apt, and I believe when so ever they will, shall be able to do it well, as already no small tokens be showed, but as touching the aptness of our tongue to receive them perfectly, I speak unto thee resolutely, that our tongue is most perfect and apt to express any manner conceit of philosophy or astrology, or any other science, and as well as in Latin, and peradventure in Greek, of the which they make so great a brag, for I remember that M. Constantine Lastari, that Grecian of the which men of our age make so great a vaunt, used to say in the gardin of Rucellai at the table, where many gentlemen were present, of the which peradventure some be yet alive, that he knew Boccace not to be inferior to any Greek writer for his eloquence & manner of speaking, & that he did esteem his hundred tales as much as an hundred of these Poets.  Just. 
What dost thou tell me? I would not for all that, thou shouldest make me believe a thing, which should make me be laughed at of the people if I should speak it, and yet I know many honest men that do find fault with this our tongue.  Soul. 
Who be they?  Just. 
They say Trissine is one.  Soul. 
That is not so, but rather seemeth so pleasant unto him, as he would rob it, and though it be proper Florentine, as Boccace saith, to have a part in it, he would make it Italian or Cortigian, to be called.  Just. 
I have not read, nor heard reasoned by chance, as of the other that makes the Dialogue of tongues. in the which they say, this is so much reproved: and what say you to that?  Soul. 
I say he reproveth it not, but rather honour it: but truth it is, he maketh one to speak those things which they do that reprove it.  Just. 
That is well, dost thou not think he speaketh it to that purpose? Mahomet when he took the use of wine from his men, that they should not wax of greater courage and better wit, whereby they might forsake his law, he made them believe the Angel Gabriel did speak it: but if he did it to praise it, why doth he not answer to those things?  Soul. 
I will tell thee, to one part he answereth not, because it is not worth the answering, as when they say, that this tongue is nothing worth, because it is the corruption of the Latin tongue, for all may see many times that of the corruption of one thing, riseth the generation of a better thing, as in the generation of man: and what wilt thou say to him that sayeth, that this consonance that is in our tongue, is like the harmony or music of drums, or rather of harquebusshes or ●alconets.  Just. 
And should he not answer to that?  Soul. 
No, for as thy Dante saith, he should be no less a fool to answer him that would ask if there were fire in the house, where the flame went out at the window, than he that asketh the question. And beside, Trissine doth answer sufficiently to this in his book which he made of Poetry, where he showeth what marvelous Art is found in our verses.  Just. 
Me thinketh thou sayest truth, but take thou heed that love do not deceive thee, as it doth the most part of men in their own things.  Soul. 
I do not deny but that love doth much, but tell me how could it come to pass, that it is now so esteemed in every court, as every man endeavoureth to write in it, the most & best that he can, but of the self goodness & marvelous beauty.  Just. 
I believe as thou sayest, but wherein standeth the betterness of it?  Soul. 
In verse, by many very reasonably, but in prose, by few, and much less than in verse.  Just. 
In this thou makest me marvel much, for I would have believed, that men do better that thing which they do oft, and that is to speak in prose, & not in verse: but what is the occasion of it?  Soul. 
I will tell thee, and note it well. The beauty and grace of the tongue, proceedeth not only of the words, but in the knitting & placing them together: and he that will see, as in a glass, what this second part well used can do, let him confer with the writings of the Florentines, & with other writings that be not tuscans, and he shall find (if he hath ears) the sweetness that universally is in the clauses of this, & the hardness that is in other: sand this order & facility can not be observed & kept in verses, because of the measure, the sound and the rhyme, and yet it seemeth to men agreeing in certain particular laws, they can more equally meet in a way of composition, & so better make verse than prose.  Just. 
Of this I can give no judgement, although I have read Dant, but this I can say, that I have strait known a man by his pronunciation whither he be a Florentine or no, though he forceth himself to speak never so well.  Soul. 
No doubt of that, and be certain of this also, that if thou markest well, thou shalt know whither one be borne, or brought up in Florence city or in the country, for they have commonly a certain rude pronunciation, & can not leave it without some difficulty.  Just. 
That I think makes no matter, for he that is of the country, is called and speaketh Florentine.  Soul. 
Maketh it no matter? rather is there great difference, if it be not helped by good use.  Just. 
What is it thou sayst? was not Boccace of Certaldo, and yet one of the most famous Florentine writers?  Soul. 
His ancestors were whereof his house always kept the name, but not he: & if thou believest me not, read the book which he made of Floods, where speaking of Elsa, he saith it is at the foot of Certaldo, sometime the country of his ancestors, before that Florence did recover them for Citizens.  Just. 
Then the tongue of which is made so great account, is Florentine proper.  Soul. 
Who doubteth thereof? doth not Lodovico Martello prove it well in his answer, which he made to Trissinc? And know that who is not borne & brought up in Florence, do not learn it perfectly: and of this it cometh that many despairing to speak or write it well, have entered to speak evil and to reprove it, and I think it hath happened to them, as did to a great master of our time touching the poet Dante.  Just. 
What was that?  Soul. 
I will tell thee. He coveting to be counted chief in our tongue, and believing he jousted as well as our Petrarke, he praiseth him marvelously, so thinking to praise himself, but perceiving after. (as he is very witty) that he can not come nigh to Dante by no way, being driven by Envy, he did what he could to dispraise him.  Just. 
Then he did, as they say, she Count of Mirandola and Friar Jerome did, the one of the which, finding by Astronomy he should die a young man, and the other by the hands of justice, they began to believe it was not true, and so both spoke and wrote evil of it, but mark, for I remember, he blameth that only in the tongue, the which neither he nor none of the other would have done, if they had considered in what terms he found it in his time, & that he, taking the mire from it, gave more help unto it, than peradventure Petrarke did, bringing it to such a perfection.  Soul. 
That should be well also to consider in sciences, saying, that he only to show himself a master, in them had made such Poetry, as might be resembled to a great field full of many wild herbs, & a thousand other things more immodest and unhonest, that I marvel, that though it were true, he would not hold his peace, for the reverence of so great a clerk.  Just. 
If he were not a great master as thou sayest, and so should speak of Dante, I would say he were presumptuous.  Soul. 
Say it boldly, seeing he speaketh it without respect of Daut, to whom he is more inferior than art thou to him, if we will not now measure the perfection of man, by the favour of Fortune, as many do now a days: but let him alone, for he hath now the pen in hand, that showing the greatness and the beauty of this Poet, shall discover either the rashness, the foolishness, or the envy of him.  Just. 
And he shall do very well, for he that is envious, deserveth none other but to be chased and fled of every man, even as a wild beast.  Soul. 
Thou speakest like a Philosopher Just, for envy is it that more hurteth the society of man, than any other thing, and the worse effects it bringeth forth, as it is in men more witty and learned: But now the Sun is high, I will that thou rise, and go to thy work, and an other time we will reason of this more at the full.   

The .v. Reasoning. IUST. soul.  
IS this the bell at S. Cross? it is so. O it is to long afore day to rise:  
These gray Friars have this custom to ring to matins about midnight, when a man is in his best sleep: although to them, that go to roost as hens do, it is small grief, & yet universally it makes a demonstration of no small disease, it shall be well to sleep again a while, although the time that is slept is as lost, yea, is little less than as a man were dead, therefore it shall be better to rise. But what shall I do then? it is so long till Sun rise, that I shall be weary: But I may prove if my soul will talk with me, although I begin to doubt, if I follow on, she will make me a fool: and it is not to be laughed at: for all they that wax mad, be mad in soul and body: and so shall this reins make me, if I do believe her too much. Behold, she hath begun to tell me, that a man may be wise, and learned, without knowledge of the Latin or Greek tongue: which is a thing, that if I should speak among the learned of our days, I should be wondered at, as an Owl: As for me, I never heard a man could be wise in vulgar, but a fool well enough: and I never saw man, of whom any great account was made, if he know not some part of Grammar, so as I will not thus believe it. And peradventure I have not understanded her well, and therefore it shall be well to see, if she will reason with me a while: and I will ask her the question. My soul, Oh my dear Soul, shall we talk a little this morning?  Soul. 
Yea, I pray thee Just, and I have no greater pleasure than that: for whiles I stand gathered into myself to talk with thee, I am not occupied in those vile and base conceits, which thou hast the more part of time nor need not minister to thy senses and strength in making thy pattens and barrels.  Just. 
I do not marvel thereat, for I myself do labour very unwillingly, and nothing is more grievous unto me: and were it not that cursed force doth cause me, I would never work stroke.  Soul. 
What wouldst thou do, live and be always in Idleness?  Just. 
No, but I would bestow the time in some thing that should delight me, where as to work is pain and trouble to me.  Soul. 
Then think what it is to me being much more contrary to my nature than to thine.  Just. 
I know not that: I see that God, after man had sinned, minding to give him part of penance, as he had done the woman in traveling with pain, said unto him: Thou shalt eat thy bread in the sweat of thy face▪ giving him labour, for the grevousest and troublesome thing he could give him.  Soul. 
Ah, ah, see, see, how by little & little thou comest to mine opinion: Thou didst marvel when I said unto thee the last day, that it was more pain to a man to make a pair of patens, than to study half Aristotle: the reason thyself haste showed: for to study, is natural and proper to man, and leads him to his perfection: and to labour, is a penance.  just 
Yea man must have also to live.  Soul. 
That is true: But all is to be content of that which is necessary, and not to seek superfluity, which bringeth a thousand unprofitable cares to man, and keeps him always occupied in the earth, and never lets him hold up his head to heaven, from whence his soul came first, and whether she desireth to return: & know Just, that the greatest good and profitable thing to man in this life, is to acquaint himself with things as they come, and content himself with a little: for he that so doth, liveth with small care, and is merry the most part of his time, if not all.  Just. 
I believe it certainly: for I proved it in myself, how profitable it hath been to me, to content me with that I have, measuring my will with my fortune, and if I would have lived or clothed me better, I must needs have done some unhonest thing, or gone and dwelled with other.  Soul. 
It were evil for great men Just, if all men were of that will: for they then must serve themselves: because it is nothing but immoderate desire, either of dignity, or of diet to eat and drink delicately, or to be clad sumptuously, that causeth that a man which reasonably might live three score years (in ten or twelve of the which, he knoweth not what he doth, and of the rest he sleepeth the half) selleth those few that he liveth, living in servitude, for a little price: Which thing that wise Philosopher Diogenes would not do, to whom Alexander the great, said: That he should ask what he would, and it should be given him. He answered: Though he were poor, he lacked nothing, but required him to stand aside, because he took the Sun from him, that was not in his power to give him.  Just. 
Certainly to depend of himself is a goodly thing, and to be a friend to lords, but not a slave, honouring and obeying them nevertheless, as them that hold in earth the place of God: and when a man will advance himself, he ought to do it with Virtue, and not with service, thinking nevertheless, that in every state he shall lack somewhat.  Soul. 
Then complain not of thine, & know certainly, there is no state in this world, but hath some discommodity and some thing that displeaseth, and none can be found as thou haste said, but that lacketh somewhat.  Just. 
With this reason would I once prove unto a friend of mine that all the states of men, were alike, and I told him that every one lacked somewhat, which chief he desired: as for example: The lame desireth to be sound, that he might get his living and not go a begging. He that is hole and hath nothing, to have somewhat to live, that he needeth not labour: and he that hath to live sufficiently, to get so much as he might keep an horse and a boy: and he that hath that, to get a dignity, or a greatness above other, and then to be a Prince, and being a prince, never to die.  Soul. 
Then do not thou lament though thou labourest a little, seeing every man lacks somewhat.  Just. 
To labour a little were a pleasure, but always, as I do that have little or nothing, is a despite.  Soul. 
Mark, thou dost as other do: but tell me, what wouldst thou have, what wantest thou?  Just. 
Sweet Ducats of revenue, and then I should live well.  Soul. 
And when thou hadst that, thou shouldest then lack somewhat, and desire it, as thou dost this, because as thou hast said of thyself, in every state there lacketh some thing, thinking when thou hast it, thou wouldest be content, and yet when thou haste it, thou art not content, but beginnest to desire an other: So as once a Citizen of ours said wisely, to one that was entered into great disorder, to buy a piece of ground that lay next him: Thou must think, thou must have neighbours, and when thou hast bought this, thou shalt have an other neighbour, of whom thou wilt have the like desire.  Just. 
I believe certainly, that there is care in every state but more in one than in an other.  Soul. 
And is not thine one of them that so hath, and of the greater?  Just. 
It is, seeing I must only live by my work, which (as I said afore) was put to man for penance of his sins.  Soul. 
Yea, to them that have their wills disordinate, & be not content with that is convenient to their state, as Adam had when this happened to him. But to him that directeth patiently his way in this life to that he is called, it chanceth not so. What sweeter thing can be, than to live with the travel of his hands? So that David the Prophet, which was also a King, as thou knowest, did call such like, blessed. And know this for a conclusion, the more a man hath, the more care he must take: and it is greater and painfuller pensiveness, to rule superfluous things to him, than is the sweetness to possess them, and the more servants and labourers he hath, the more enemies he hath, as that philosopher said well. But let us leave these matters, in the which me think we have said enough: let us turn a little to them of yesterday, which we left unperfect, because thou doubtedst before, that if thou believed'st me, I should make thee a fool, as though thou hadst not thy part as well as other.  Just. 
Take this too, if it please thee: wilt thou say that every one is a fool?  Soul. 
A fool? no: but that every man thinketh so.  Just. 
Oh that is all one.  Soul. 
Know Just, that every man hath a branch, & be thou sure, that one greater than an other: but this is the difference of that wise & y● foolish, that the wise carrieth it covered, & the fools carry it open in their hands that every man seeth it.  Just. 
Ah, thou art disposed.  Soul. 
Be content, I will prove it thee in thyself: how many times hast thou walked in thy house, setting thy feet in the mids of the paving tiles seeking with great diligence not to touch the ends?  Just. 
Oh▪ a thousand times, and have been about from my window to tell how many run by, and to do divers other childish things.  Soul. 
Then tell me, if thou hadst so done abroad, would not the children have run about thee, as they do about fools?  Just. 
By my faith thou sayest truth, and I will no more deny, but that I also have my fondness: and now do I think that Proverb most true, which I have oft heard spoken, that if foolishness were a pain, we should hear groaning in every house.  Soul. 
I will tell thee more, thou shalt find few men in the world, that have left any fame, but if thou dost consider their life, they have born their branch uncovered: but because it hath to them come well to pass, they have been praised, but I will not we talk any more of this. Let us turn to our reasoning, tell me how thou that hast no Grammar, nor hast studied, didst know, that labour was given of God, to our first fathers for a penance & punishment for their disobedience.  Just. 
Oh, dost not thou know, that so oft hast red with me the Bible, which I have?  Soul 
How dost thou understand it?  just 
Why should I not understand it, knowest thou not, that it is in vulgar?  Soul. 
Yes. I know.  just 
Then why dost thou ask me.  Soul. 
To make thee confess that thou hast spoken, that if sciences and the scripture were in the vulgar, thou shouldest understand them.  just 
Yea, as touching the words, but to pierce to the sense, is an other matter.  Soul. 
It is enough, that thou shouldest have no difficulty in understanding the words, but only in the intelligence of the sense, which they have also, that read it in Greek or Latin: for thou mayst not believe, that by understanding a tongue, all authors be understanded, and all sciences that be in the same: for to do that, there is need of some schoolmasters and interpreters, and yet with great difficulty be understanded: and the like should come if they were in vulgar. But now it is enough for me that thou knowest, that it is not tongues that make the learned men, but Science.  Just. 
Therefore a man can not be learned, unless he understand the Latin tongue, wherein they be all written: what wilt thou learn in ours?  Soul. 
Thank the Romans that have translated, if the Latin tongue be rich, and blame the tuscans, that have not cared for theirs, if theirs be poor.  Just. 
All is, if the fault cometh of the tongue, that it is not so copious of words, as men can write in it.  Soul. 
New words be made, and brought to use as things require.  Just. 
What? Is it lawful to make new words in a tongue?  Soul. 
Yea, in them that be not dead, and of them only, of which they be propre.  just 
Which callest thou dead?  Soul. 
Those which be not spoken naturally in no place, as at this day, the Latin and the Greek, and in our tongue, it is not lawful to make new words to them that be not proper and native unto it.  Just. 
Why, is it not lawful to those strangers that knows it?  Soul. 
Because it not being to them natural, they can not make them so, as they shall have grace. Mark well such as in our tongue, of some now a days have been devised.  Just. 
Then thou judgest it is none error to make them in our tongue?  Soul. 
Not of him that speaketh it naturally, rather were it laudable. Tell me, dost thou think that either the Greek, or Latin tongue, were so perfect and plentiful of words at the beginning as they were after when they flourished with so worthy writers?  Just. 
I believe it not.  Soul. 
Be thou well assured: for there is none of these things that be exercised of us, that was in the beginning perfectly produced of nature, or found out of art: for if that could be done, the one of them should be in vain: for if Nature brought forth every thing perfect, we should have no need of Art: and if Art of herself could make them perfect, we should have no need of Nature. Did not Cicero and Boetio, make new words when they would put philosophy and Logic in the Latin tongue?  Just. 
Did they borrow them of other nations?  Soul. 
Be thou sure they did.  Just. 
And of whom?  Soul. 
Of the Greeks, and the Greeks of the hebrews, and the hebrews of the Egyptians. Haste thou not heard that nothing can be said, but that hath been said before? but the Romans being other men, and of other judgement than be now the tuscans, loving more their own things (as reason is) than others, did study only strange tongues, to gather out of them that was good to enrich their own.  Just. 
Truly in this me think they were worthy praise.  Soul. 
Search all the ancient things, and thou shalt see that there be few Romans that wrote in Greek, as our Toscanes do in latin, which is not their tongue, and for all their doing, it is well known, that tha● purity is not seen in their writings, which is seen in the style of proper Latins.  Just. 
In this they deserve to be excused, it not being their proper tongue as thou sayest.  Soul. 
Rather they deserve to be double blamed. Dost thou remember thou hast heard, that when M. Cato did read certain things of Albino the Roman, written in Greek, and finding that in the beginning he did excuse himself, that they were not written with that elegancy that they ought, because he was a citizen of Rome and borne in Italy, and a stranger to the Greek tongue, he did not only excuse him, but laughed at him, saying: Oh Albino, thou hadst rather ask pardon of an error done, than not do it.  Just. 
Truly these reasons be so good, that I for me can say nothing against them.  Soul. 
See how the Romans did seek to enrich their tongue, and thought to bring no less noble fame by this, than by conquering to their Empire some City or Kingdom: and that this is true, read the poem that Boetius makes in his translation of Aristotle's predicaments, where he saith: that being a man of Counsel, and not apt to war, he would labour to instruct his country men with doctrine, and that he hoped to deserve no less, nor be no less profitable unto them, by teaching them the Art of Greek sapience, than they which with force and valiantness, have subdued some City or Province to the Roman Empire.  Just. 
O minds and thoughts, holy in deed, and words worthy a citizen of Rome: for the very office of a citizen is always to help his country as much as he can, to the which we be no less bound, than to our fathers and mothers.  Soul. 
And therefore at this day is their tongue had in so great estimation, for that it is so full of good Sciences, as he that will obtain them must needs first learn it: where, if our Toscanes would translate likewise the same, to them that would learn them, they should not need to spend four or six of their first best years to learn a tongue▪ that they might by the mean thereof pass to the sciences, which other wise might he had with more ease and more surety: for thou must know this, that we never learn a strange tongue to possess it well, as we do our proper: and likewise a man speaketh not so assuredly, nor with such facility: & if thou believest not me, mark them whom thou knowest study the Latin tongue, that when they would speak in it, it seems they beg, they utter their words with such difficulty, and speak so leisurely.  Just. 
Thou sayst truth, but this way of the Romans was very good, to translate into their tongue so many goodly things, that he that will understand them, must be forced to learn the tongue, and so was dispersed throughout the world.  Soul. 
They did not only this, but whiles they were Lords of the world, they caused it to be learned of the most part of their subjects by force.  Just. 
And what did they?  Soul. 
They had made a law, that no Ambassador should be heard, unless he spoke Latin: & beside, all causes that were heard in all Provinces under their government, and all process, was written in the Latin tongue: wherefore all the noble men of every country, and all the advocates and attorneys were forced to learn the tongue.  Just. 
I do not marvel though Rome became so great, if they used this way in other things.  Soul. 
Of this I will not reason, for the goodly things that they got of all the world, do make clear testimony to all that consider it.  Just. 
O custom very laudable, O citizens very lovers of their country.  Soul. 
This custom, Just, was not only of the Romans, but of all other nations: Seek as much as thou wilt, and thou shalt never find that any Hebrew hath written in Egypt tongue, nor Greek in Hebrew, nor Latin (as I have said) in Greeke, and if there be any, they be very few.  Just. 
Where then have these tuscans gotten this use, to write in Grammar as thou speakest?  Soul. 
Of their inordinate love of themselves, and not of their country, or of their tongue, for so doing, they have thought to be taken the more learned.  Just. 
They do as the Physician that jones had, which to seem the more learned, did ordain certain receipts with certain names out of use, that made me to marvel: among the which I remember one morning, that he made me a receipt, for the impostume that thou knowest I had: where amongst certain other things, one was called Rob, an other Tartaro, and an other Altea: so as I thought I must have sent into the new found islands for an Interpreter: and when it came to pass, the one was Soap, the other Lées of a vessel, and the third Meadows.  Soul. 
Oh thou hast said well Just, and if thou considerest well, this world is nothing else but a confusion: yet if the tuscans would endeavour them to translate sciences into their tongue, I have no doubt at all, but in short time it should come into greater reputation than it is, for it is seen that it pleaseth much, and is this day much understanded and desired, and this cometh only for natural beauty and goodness of it, the which thing strangers not knowing, many times going about to pullish it, do blemish it, and so it comes properly to pass to her as doth to a woman, which thinking to make herself fair with painting, doth utterly destroy herself.  Just. 
How can that be?  Soul. 
I will tell thee, whiles they seek to make it more beautiful, and make the clauses like to the Latin, they destroy the facility and natural order of it, in the which consists the beauty: and beside, they will take some words used of Boccace or petrarch very seldom, the which they think the goodlier, because they be seldom used of them, & because they have not by nature the true signification, nor the true sound in the ear, they put them in every place, and many times out of purpose, and so they hurt the natural beauty thereof.  Just. 
I doubt if they cannot inunitate other, it might not be said to them, as one Pippo said to Francis di Loma, who thinking to excuse himself of a cross-beam which he had made in the gallery of the Innocentes, which bowed toward the earth, saying he had taken it out of S. john's Temple, he answered, thou hast counterfeited only the worst of it: but if the tongue be of such perfection as thou sayest, whereof comes it, that many of these learned, do blame so much them, that translate any thing?  Soul. 
With what reason?  Just. 
They say the tongue is not apt, nor worthy, that such things should be translated into it, and that it taketh from them the reputation, and much embaseth them.  Soul. 
All tongues, by the reasons I 
Translation in vulgar.  have showed thee before, be apt to utter their conceit, and the business of them that speak, and if it were otherwise, they that use them, make them so: therefore allege not this excuse, for it is nothing worth.  Just. 
What cause then can move them to say, that things translated into the vulgar, be abased and lose their reputation.  Soul. 
That which I told thee this other day, which was the occasion of so many other evils, even the wicked ennie and desire they have to be counted more than other.  Just. 
Surely I believe thou sayst truth, for I remember me, that being one day among these learned folk, and one of them showing that Bernard Segne had translated; Aristotle's Rhetoric into the bulgare, one said he had done a great evil, and being asked why, he answered, it was not meet that every vulgar should understand that, which an other with great travail, had learned in many years, in Latin and Greek books.  Soul. 
O words inconvenient, I will not say only to a Christian, but to a man, knowing how much we are bound to love one an other, & more to the soul than to the body, to whom no greater good can be done, than to make easy the way of understanding.  Just. 
But soft a while, I remember they say an other thing.  Soul. 
What?  Just. 
They say that the things that be translated out of one tongue into an other, never have the force nor grace that they have in their own.  Soul. 
They have not that in their own that they have in other, for every tongue hath her finesse and delicacy, & peradventure the Toscane more than an other: and he that will see it, let him read Dante or Petrarke, where they have spoken of any thing that was before spoken of a Latin or Greek Poet, and he shall see they pass him far, and that in few things they be inferior.  Just. 
But in translations they must have more regard to the sense, than to the words.  Soul. 
I know they translate, by reason of science, and not to see the force or the beauty of the tongues: and if it were not so, the Romans that thought their tongue the fairest in the world, would not have translated the feats of Mago of Carthage, into their tongue, nor the Grecians that were so proud and vain glorious of theirs, (calling all the rest barbarous) the Egyptians and the Chaldeis works: Nevertheless in translating, beside that a man ought to be faith full, he must seek to speak the words as ornately as he can. Therefore it is necessary to him that translateth, to know well the one tongue and the other, and then to possess well the things or Sciences that be translated, that he may utter them well and pleasantly according to the nature of the tongue, for if a man will tell the things of one tongue, with the manner of an other tongue, it hath no grace at all: and if this were observed, translating perhaps should not be so much blamed.  Just. 
They say further, that they do contrary to the author's intent.  Soul. 
How can that be? seeing who soever writes, he doth it for none other purpose, but that his things being preserved by letters, and not los●e by voices, might be understanded of all the world.  Just. 
Then thou thinkest that to translate sciences in our tongue is good.  Soul. 
Yea, I affirm nothing can be more profitable nor laudable, because the greater part of errors, cometh of ignorance, and princes ought to regard it, because they be fathers of the people: and to a father appertaineth not only to govern his children, but also to teach them and correct them, and if they will not do this in every thing, at least they ought to do it in necessary things.  Just. 
And which be they?  Soul. 
The laws, as well divine as humane.  Just. 
What profit should that bring to men?  Soul. 
What profit? how much more should they be lovers and defenders of 
God's law in vulgar.  christian religion, if it were begun to be read of children, and from hand to hand exercised in the same, as the hebrews do, which thing they can not do, not having them translated and well placed in the vulgar?  Just. 
It is no marvel though the hebrews do all so well know to speak of things of their law, and a shame it is to christians which teach their children to read either matters of merchandise or other things whereof no good is to be gotten, where they ought to teach them first what appertains to a christian, 
Service in vulgar.  knowing that those things which be learned in the first years, be ever more than other kept in memory.  Soul. 
And beside this, with how much more reverence and attention should we stand at service, if we did understand what is said?  Just. 
Truly it is so.  Soul. 
Tell me with what devotion, or what mind do men praise God, not understanding what they say? thou knowest well the talk of Children and Popeniayes is not called a speech, but an imitation of a sound only, because they understand not what they say (for speech is properly to express words, that may signify the conceit and the meaning of him that speaketh) wherefore our reading or singing of psalms, not understanding what we say, is like the tattling of Children, or the babbling of Popeniayes. And I know no religion but ours, that keeps this form: for the hebrews praise God in Hebrew, the Greeks in Greek, the Latins in Latin, the slavonians in Sclavony: thanks be to S. Jerome that translated every thing in their tongue, as a very lover of his country.  Just. 
Surely my Soul, this thy opinion pleaseth me much.  Soul. 
It may please thee, for it is S. Paul's, who writeth to the Corinthians, that they ought to say their Service in Hebrew. How shall an ignorant say Amen upon your blessing, if he understand not what is said? and what fruit shall he ever get?  Just. 
Whereof cometh it then that when these things were first taken out of Hebrew▪ they were not put into the vulgar?  Soul. 
Because then for the confusion of many barbarous nations that were that time in Italy, there was none other tongue but Latin, which was understand through out: & mark that there is found no writing in that time, of holy things, but in that tongue: and let this suffice for the laws of God. Now let us come to man's: if they be those that must rule men, and after whose precept we ought to live, why are they in a tongue that few do understand? The Romans that made so many, and had so many of the Greeks, they made them in none other tongue but in their own. And likewise, Lycurgus and Solon and others, that gave laws to all Greece, made them in none other tongue, but in that the people used.  Just. 
If this be so necessary a thing as thou sayest, what meaneth it, that as well holy as civil laws be not translated into vulgar.  Soul. 
The covetousness of priests 
Covetise of Priests and Friars.  and friars, to whom the portion of the tenths, which God by law hath ordained for them, not being sufficient, desiring to live so sumptuously as they do, doth hide them, and sell them by little and little, as they say, by inch, and yet as they list, because they will afray men with a thousand threatenings, which do not so sound in the law as they interpret, so as they have got from the poor seculars, more than the one half of that they have.  Just. 
Ah this is a fault which I think is not only to be given to priests, but to every one, for there is no man that thinks upon other thing, but to get money from an others bag, and put it into his: but it is true, that priests Friars and notaries that do it with words, be more witty than other.  Soul. 
Alas, it should not come to them so easily, if men had more knowledge of Scripture than they have: and the cause why man's law is not translated, is likewise the impiety of many doctors and advocates, that will sell common things, and that they might the better do it, they have found this pretty toy, that contracts can not be made in vulgar, but only in their fair Grammar, which they little understand, and others less. I marvel certainly, that men have suffered such a thing, under the which may be wrought so many deceits.  Just. 
Though that be not so, yet it were more profitable, they were done in our tongue: for a man should understand what he doth, and then witness what they have to testify, & they should see them written also, that they took not the name only, and then make a long dash at their pleasure, putting to every word, Et caetera, which (as I think) is nothing but an hook, where as men not understanding what they do, it is enough for them to say yea, & do not regard the conditions, that many times be comprehended, whereby doth grow many suits.  Soul. 
And that is the cause I think why they do it: and therefore I will say this unto thee: We have no less cause to lament of priests and of lawyers, than have those Prince's subjects, which would sell them water & light.  Just. 
Of them, I let thee speak as much as thou wilt, but of Friars and Priests I would not have thee say evil: for as I have herd them say, it becomes not secular men to reprehend them.  Soul. 
Behold one of the opinions which the world believeth true, because they understand not the holy letters: tell me, are not all we the children of God, and consequently, the brethren of Christ?  Just. 
Yes, we be.  Soul. 
And brethren, in that they be brethren, be they not equal?  Just. 
Yes they be.  Soul. 
Therefore we as christians & children of god, be equal: & to one brother apertaines to reprehend an other.  Just. 
That is true: but they have this dignity of priesthood that maketh them more worthy than us.  Soul. 
What greater dignity can be than to be the children of God? Wilt thou that the less light should cover the greater? It is greater dignity to be a Christian, than a priest, or a Prince, 
A Christian.  which be offices given of God, & make men the ministers of God. Thou knowest it is more to be the son of a prince, than his minister.  just 
Then am I more than the pope.  Soul. 
Not so: for first he is a christian as thou art, in that which you be equal, then because he is chosen to be a minister under God, one way he is more than thou: but for all this, it is not prohibited thee, to reprehend the errors that he doth and committeth, as a man and as a christian, so thou dost it with that reverence that charity teacheth. And that this is true, thou hast example of saint Paul the Apostle, which saith: He reproved Peter, that was his greater, because he was worthy of it.  Just. 
Of truth this thy opinion doth not displease me, but I will not speak it: for beside their authority, they have also force, and defend themselves with arms, seeing their excommunications will no longer serve them, as in the primitive church, where when they did excommunicate any, suddenly either he fell dead, or was carried away with devils.  Soul. 
Surely, if they had not other armure than their maledictions; a man might do with them, as the soldier which having taken from a Friar half a piece of cloth, which he had begged, and the Friar threatening him he would require it again at the day of judgement, he took all the rest, saying: Seing I have so long a day of payment, I will have this too?  Just. 
Alas, why can they not do miracles as they have done?  Soul. 
Well said saint Thomas of Aquine, when Pope Innocent had a mountain of money afore him, and showed it him, saying: Thou seest Thomas, the church can no more say now, Argentum & aurum non est mihi, he answered 
Thomas of Aquine to Pope Innocent.  no: neither Surge, & ambula.  Just. 
O my soul, thou knowest so many things, that certainly thou makest me marvel, and thou art much wiser and learned than I took thee. But tell me, couldst thou have known them without me? for thou hast said unto me, that we be all one thing, and whiles thou art united with me, thou canst not work but in me.  Soul. 
O Just, this would be too long, and I will we defer it till an other time, for it is now day, and time thou goest to thy work.  Just. 
Oh thou sayest truth, it is clear day in deed. Oh how the time passeth, and a man seeth it not, when he doth or reasoneth of any thing that pleaseth him.   

The uj Reasoning. soul. IUST.  
WHen I consider sometime with myself, how great the pleasure must be, which the happy souls feel, which being departed from their body, with good grace of their lord, be returned into their heavenly country, to fill themselves with the contemplation of the first & chief verity, I do not marvel a whit though Saint Paul (which had tasted part, when he was ravished to the third heaven) did say, that he desired nothing else, but to be loosed from the body, and be with Christ: and the great delight, that I sometime feel when I am free from the impediments of the body as I am now, induceth me to consider it. I can (with that light that my Lord hath given me, in making me like unto his image and similtude) consider the nature of so fair and divers creatures sensible, of the which this universal is composed and beautified, & by the mean of them to ascend to the contemplation of celestial and divine things: whereof I say oft to myself, how ought they to be content, that be altogether attent to regard in those divine treasures, and my contentation being so great in beholding those few knowledges that I have of this and them, yet am not so perfectly bend to the like work, because those powers, whiles they attend to digestion and other operations necessary to the conservation of my body, be so united with me, that I cannot shift but they give me some impediment: albeit by the mean of natural heat, they seething the meat, do make a fumosity to rise to the head, which being joined together, do bind the senses, and gender sleep, whereby I may return into myself, as I am now. O happy be they in deed, which being but little occupied in the cares of the world, and in the visions that the senses do impress in their fantasy, remain and enjoy themselves. Certainly it is no marvel, though they sometime see the things to come, whereby men do honour them so much, and call them Princes, half Gods, and things verily divine. But alas, I can no longer tarry in sweet things and delectable study: for I feel the natural heat hath so fined and consumed those fumes that cause sleep, that Just will wake by and by. Therefore let us return to our old business, & if he will not occupy me otherwise, we will talk a while together, as we have done.  Just. 
Oh with what consolation and what pleasure have I slept a while? I cannot tell whether it hath been a dream or other thing, which hath given me such a contentation whiles I slept, as I think I never felt such a comfort in all my life before.  Soul. 
Thank me Just, if thou hast had any such comfort in thy sleep, for I have been the chief cause thereof: although thou hast holp me somewhat with the little eating thou madest yesterday.  Just. 
O my dear Soul, I thank thee very hearty, but tell me, in what sort hast thou been the principal cause?  Soul. 
I not being letted, whiles thou wert bound in sleep, with superfluity of meat, or occupied in any of our common occupations, I retired into myself, and there began to be very busily occupied with certain knowledges which I have gotten by help of thy instruments.  Just. 
Stay a while, and before thou 
In the. 24. line of the page before going, in the place of very busily occupied, read in Negotiation.  goest any further, tell me what thou meanest by being in negotiation, for as for me, I understand it not.  Soul. 
Negotiation is nothing else but to be doing and occupied in some thing, doing in it as much as behoveth, and it is a word that hath his beginning of a latin word, called Negotium, which in our tongue signifieth business.  Just. 
It is of late used, for I do not remember that ever I heard it before.  Soul. 
So it is: but have not I told thee, that from hand to hand when tongues go to perfection, that they must take new words for their purpose?  Just. 
I begin to believe it in deed.  Soul. 
So as they can not say, that sciences cannot be translated into our tongue, for lack of words, for new may be made in ours, as hath been in other.  Just. 
It is well: now to thy talk.  Soul. 
Exercising me, as I have said, being free from the impediments in those knowledges, I felt so great contentation & pleasure, that I reduced myself into a quiet, which did not only make me happy, but also did pass into thee, holding all thy parts content in themselves, whereof came that quiet and sweet sleep, that thou hast so praised.  Just. 
O if it be in thy power to do this, & thou lovest me as y● sayest, why dost thou not cause me to sleep thus always, having so much need of it?  Soul. 
Because of the enmity that is between thee and me, or to speak better, the contrariety of nature, many times doth not let me do it.  Just. 
How so?  mSoule. 
I will not speak now of the impediments which these organs wherein the senses be exercised, do give me, when they be altered of thee, either with too much eating or drinking, or with too much labour, and with a thousand other passions: but tell me this, how oft do I, being forced of this thy part of lust, give place, and leave thee to do things, which be clean contrary to my nature. Wherefore I, seeing I am commanded of a power inferior to myself, fall into so great discomfort, that thou also feelest it: for our union becometh a continual battle, which doth suffer neither of us to be at rest. Where as if thou didst obey me, and didst let me hold the bridle in my hand as were convenient, we should live in such peace, that the operations that proceed of me, as they that have their beginning of thee, and be given us principally of nature, for our conservation, should be brought to their end without any difficulty.  Just. 
I know certainly, thou sayest truth, and therefore I minded to request thee, that thou wouldst give some order & rule of it, what I ought to do, that we might long keep ourselves in union, with the least grief & displeasure that is possible: I will not now say without any, for that I know to be impossible in this life, But before thou dost this, I would desire thee to rid me of that doubt, that much troubleth me, and holds me in suspense, and that is (as I said unto thee yesterday morning) how thou know'st these things without me.  Soul. 
It is an hard thing which thou demandest of me, and before this time hath made many fall (which have been accounted wise) into great errors: therefore it might be better for thee not to know it: for to know that needs not, genders more confusion. Nevertheless, for the satisfaction of thy desire, I will tell thee what the opinions have been: but I will not after, that thou with thy discourse of reason shouldest confirm or content thyself with any of them, but submit thy desire to the determination of christian religion, which because it is guided of light more clear and sure, than is the sapience of man, it can not err, as it doth.  Just. 
What light is that?  Soul. 
The most holy light of faith, 
Faith.  revealed of God to the world by the mouth of his servants, and last by the same of his most sanctified son, the way, the truth, and light of the world, that the creatures reasonable might by the mean of this be brought to their perfection, which certainly is nothing else but a contemplation of the first and unspeakable verity.  just 
Both in this and other, I will do that thou wouldst have me.  Soul. 
Thank thine age, which hath so cooled thy blood, and weakened thy force, as thou leavest a part the pleasures of the world, and art reduced to this way of life. Wherefore it may be rather said (as once that Citizen did) that sin hath left thee, before thou it.  Just. 
be it as it may, I will not contend with thee.  Soul. 
Nor I would not for this, but thou shouldest continued to do well, for if thou hast begun to live in order by necessity, this servile fear (for so will I call it) might one day by the grace of God, be turned into the fear of a son. By the which thou should deserve no less thank of him, than reputation of the world.  Just. 
It can hardly be brought about, but youth and other ages will have their course, and he that doth it not young, will do it old, as those birds that can not sing in May, sing after in September: but let us speak no more of this, deliver me from the doubt, I told thee.  Soul. 
Although there have been many opinions of them, which the world calleth wise, which have sought how I should know and understand things, they may be reduced to two, for two principal sects 
How the Soul knoweth.  have been that have spoken and written of me: One of them is, that hold I am immortal, all divine, created of God, most good and great, and poured into thee: and of these Plato, 
Plato.  with his other academical Philosophers was chief: an other is of them that hold that I have my beginning with my body. And of this, Aristotle with his Peripatetical scholars is 
Aristotle.  head, although he spoke not so, as it might clearly be gathered of his words, whether he held I was mortal or immortal: but he strikes at large sometime, and sometime so at hand, as some hold by him, that I am immortal, and some mortal.  Just. 
How doth he it?  Soul. 
I will tell thee. Hast thou ever heard of one that asked counsel to take a wife? And when he said, She is fair, take her quoth the other: And when he said, she is of evil blood: take her not then said he: but she hath a good dowry, take her then. No, she is somewhat proud, take her not: And so he still answered yea or no, as he brought forth new matter. And so doth Aristotle with me: For when he considereth me united with my body, he saith, I am mortal, and when he considereth me, as an agent intellection, & that I can work without it, he saith, I am immortal: so as finally, he that readeth him, is never certain, whether I am mortal or immortal.  Just. 
Peradventure he was not certain himself.  Soul. 
I think so surely. Wherefore he did, as they do, that love the world's glory more than the truth, which when they know not a thing, because they will not lose their estimation, they will not confess it, but speak confusedly, that men should rather think they will not speak it, than that they know it not.  Just. 
Of how great evil is this worldly pride the cause?  Soul. 
Yea, and that marvelously. Consider a little in things of religion, that they which the world calleth divines, for that they will not confess they do not understand things appertaining to Faith, by natural light, they have taken upon them to prove it by propositions of Philosophy, which is all 
Divines scholastical.  contrary to Faith, for that proceedeth with order & natural principles, and faith exceedeth & passeth all nature.  Just. 
Who have these been?  Soul. 
Those which commonly we call Scholastical, which have sought a reason of every thing that God hath made, with their learning.  Just. 
I marvel he is not once surely angry with them.  Soul. 
That is, because he is the chief goodness.  Just. 
As for me, I know no prince but that would be angry with his servant, that would know a reason of all his doings. Me think this is plainly to call God into the consistory. But tell I pray thee, whether these be the divines, that are called Paris school?  Soul. 
Even they, thou hast hit it.  Just. 
Oh, those matters are decayed. For Bartol the bokeseller my neighbour hath told me, that he selleth no more of them, & that he hath an hundred horsloade which he would barter for clean paper, and give somewhat to boot.  Soul. 
Thank the Lutherans, who giving. 
Lutherans.  no faith but to the holy Scripture, have caused, that men be forced to return to read them, & to leave such disputations.  Just. 
Mark that it is true, which is said: That many times of a great evil, cometh some good. But let us leave this, and turn to our talk.  Soul. 
Of these two sects which I spoke, Plato which held I was immortal & divine, seeing that I understood every thing, said, I was created of God, full of all sciences eternally. And after when I descended into thee, (for so God had ordained that I should purgo me of certain spots that I had) I forgot them all: and after by help of Schoolmasters and exercises in studies, I returned to my mind, and so he said, that our learning was a remembrance, and not a learning of new.  Just. 
That opinion I could like well enough.  Soul. 
Thou wouldest say so, if thou heardest the reasons that he maketh, which be such, as they made Origene 
Origen.  and many other christian divines to hold the same opinion: and Austen also, when he wrote upon the Genesis 
Austen.  although he did retract afterward.  Just. 
Did Origene revoke?  Soul. 
Not that I know.  Just. 
And did he say too, that you were made of God eternally?  Soul. 
Yea, and that we were of angel's shape, which opinion was after reproved of the church as erroneous and heretical.  Just. 
Thou makest me now remember of my neighbour, which said, that our souls were those little Angels, which were not comprehended in sin, nor in service of God, but between both, and were after sent into us to be determined, whether they would follow good or evil: & it was never known he held this opinion in his life, but after his death it was found in his books. Wherefore his bones were taken up, and buried out of the church yard.  Soul. 
Who was that?  Just. 
Matthew Palmer, dost thou not remember? but thinkest thou he was damned for this?  Soul. 
I do not believe it: for though this opinion is holden erroneous, yet he feared God, and regarded the honour of the same, and he was a lover of his neighbour, as thou dost well know, in the which things consisteth all christian religion. So as it is not to be believed, that a man of so holy and good behaviour, for holding such an opinion, which is not against the honour of God, should be damned: and chief, believing he did not err, and being ever disposed to change to the contrary, when need had been, as he so plainly doth confess in his books.  Just. 
I will not then say, that as his body was taken up, by the commandment of him that then did govern the Florentine Church, so his soul was sent to Hell.  Soul. 
It were evil for us Just, if it lay in their power to send us to Hell as it is in their power to take us 
Purgatory popish.  from Purgatory, (as they say) and take none out, but such as pleaseth them, or pay them somewhat: for so would they send all them that were not obedient to their wills, what so it were.  Just. 
Of Purgatory I would not much care, since there be Bulls found out to fetch us from thence.  Soul. 
But they give no more, for as they did put much money in their purses one way, so are they great losers an other.  Just. 
How losers?  Soul. 
Of that is sprung the Lutheran doctrine, which hath caused them (beside the loss) a thousand dishonours. I will speak of none, but of him that took in hand to deliver a man's father from Purgatory, promising a Floren, and as soon as he had it in his hand, he ran his way, saying you said he is out, and that is enough for me: for I can never think you will be so cruel, that you will put him there again for one Florins sake.  Just. 
Here it was like to that that Carlo Aldobrandy did to the observant Friars, to whom he was bound by a legacy of his uncle to pay every year two florence, to say an office for his soul. Then a certain pardon coming from julio, whereof these Friars were ministers, giving pardon to take souls out of Purgatory, the said Charles took one for his uncle, and made it so to be written with their hand, and after when they went to him for their two Florins, according to the legacy, he answered he was no more bound to give it than, because he was in Paradise, and had no need, and in Hell was no redemption, and out of Purgatory they themselves had delivered him, and showed them their own hand. But let us leave this talk: for I will not that we speak against the Church.  Soul. 
Ah Just, if thou knewest that the church is nothing else but the university of good Christians, that be in the grace of God (and not these vicar's 
Church.  that go hither and thither, fleeing the people of the world, or these Friars, that have devised to deliver themself from the penance of labour, which God hath given us, exercising the inquisition, rather to maintain themselves fat, and live at ease, than for charity) thou wouldst not so say: but let it suffice thee that Dant saith.  

For their curse we do not lose,  
The love eterne, our chief repose.   Just. 
I can not tell, but I think it an hard thing, not to be buried in the 
Burial in Churchyard.  churchyard.  Soul. 
Ah Just, it is well seen thou art a body, and thinks after nothing but the body. Dost thou not understand that this is one of the things that hath been ordained of them, rather for the profit of them, than any benefit of us?  Just. 
What profit have they?  Soul. 
They make it be paid by weight of gold: which thing Pontanus 
Christian's unhappy.  considering, used to say, that christians were the most unhappy and miserable nation in the world, because they must pay for the very earth they were buried in.  Just. 
In very deed it is a very wicked thing.  Soul. 
And where they have their Mass for a work of mercy, they ought to call it a work of gain.  Just. 
Friar Succiell said well, that there were six works only of mercy. And when he preached, he exhorted men to give meat to the hungry, to clad the naked, & the other good works: and when he came to the burial of the dead, of that (said he) I will say nothing, for he that will not bury them let him keep them in the house. But let us leave these talks, and make an end to tell me that thou hadst begun.  Soul. 
I am content, therefore mark well Aristotle with them that followed him, the which me think hold me mortal, saying: That I have my beginning with thee, and that I can work nothing without thee, and that I am nothing of myself but only apt to learn, by the mean of a certain light, I have in myself, called of them intellect agent, by the which I understand certain things which be intelligible by their own nature, as that one thing can not be and be in all one time, and such like, called of them first principles, and of thy Dant first knowledges: and with the help of these they say, that I learn all things. So if thou holdest these things with Aristotle, thou canst never know, how I can do these things without thee. But if thou holdest with Plato, thou shalt have no difficulty at all.  Just. 
Then what shall I do, if thou tellest me nothing else, I remain more confused than I was before, not knowing which of these two be true?  Soul. 
Marvel not, for such is the sapience of the world, & all they that will walk only with the light of that, the more they learn, the less they know, and wax continually more uncertain and less quiet. Which Solomon would very well signify, when he saith: He that joineth Sapience to a man, joineth dolour.  Just. 
Well, what way then must I take to satisfy my desire?  Soul. 
Run to the Light of Faith as I said in the beginning.  Just. 
that were to enter into a more un certainty.  Soul. 
Why?  Just. 
Because the things of Faith, as thou sayest, be much more difficult, and farther pass our knowledge, than of nature.  Soul. 
Yea to them that seek to understand them with natural light, as I said before, but not to him that walketh with simplicity of heart and light of the same.  Just. 
And how shall one do to have this light?  Soul. 
To prepare as much as man's power may to receive it, and then as the Apostles did, to ask it of God, who having said to us: Ask, and it shall be given you, he will not fail to give them us.  Just. 
And what preparation is it, we must make?  Soul. 
First to persuade ourselves, that there is one intelligence that understands more than we, and though we do not understand how he can make a thing, yet it followeth not but he can do it.  Just. 
In very deed it were a great presumption, not only a foolishness, to say, I understand not this thing, and I can not do it, therefore it cannot be done.  Soul. 
Yet there be enough, that hold this opinion, and they may promise themselves, never to have the like light, because it is written: God resisteth the proud, and to the humble he giveth grace.  Just. 
And worthily.  Soul. 
Further it behoveth to be exercised in the study of holy scripture, and above all to be a lover of religion, and ever to have it in honour and reverence most great: for who so ever is a despiser of his religion, ought not to be called a man, much less to be put among the lovers of sapience, as Aristotle saith of those Philosophers that did despise and deny the Gods. And so doing, we obtain of God, the light of Faith, the which as I have said unto thee, is only it, that may quiet man's understanding.  Just. 
Well, seeing thou judgest it good to quiet myself, and be firm in the determinations of the faith, I am content, and therefore I pray thee, that leaving those things which the wise of the world think, thou wouldst tell me what the christian religion hath determined: for in the other I never found quiet nor contentation.  Soul. 
Thou must believe, because so it is, that so soon as the bodies be disposed, God of his infinite power doth create us divine & immortal, and doth create us all equal, as touching those powers without the which we should be no reasonable souls, but after giveth ussome particular gifts for our benefit, knowing that by the mean of them, we may the more easily obtain our perfection, and that we might work also holily in the ministery of God, whereof he giveth to one the gift of prophecy, to an other, the interpretation of Scriptures: & to one, one thing, & to an other according as his sapience disposeth, & seemeth good to his goodness. And yet no man ought to lament, though it be in his power to make of one matter, some vessels for honour, and some for rebuke.  Just. 
I thought you all had been equal, & that those differences that are known in a man, had risen of the goodness, or of the imperfection of the body, & had not been particular gifts of God.  Soul. 
So thinks also, all the wise of the world, which walk only with the light of nature. And therefore not to lose more time, thou must know, that if I know any thing, which thou thoughtest not, that it is a gift, which God hath given me, because it hath so seemed to his goodness for our benefit, that I being illuminated, might give light, and govern thee. Of the which thing we ought much to thank him, because he hath only given it for a weal: and I ought to guide thee in his ways, and thou not to strive against my counsels.  Just. 
I know certainly (my soul) that thou sayest truth, and I feel that of these thy words is grown in me a certain surety, a contentation, and such a quiet, that I am determined never hereafter to be contrary to thy will, nor rebel against thy counsel and laws. Wherefore I pray thee, that thou wouldst tell me, what I ought to do, to maintain myself in this sweet union, and chief in those operations that depend and rise properly of myself.  Soul. 
I think it shall be very meet, because I can not well work if thou be not disposed. But because it is now broad day, and the thing is somewhat long: I will that we tarry till to morrow, and therefore go to thy business.   

The vij Reasoning. IUST. soul.  
O How the time flees away, it is day, & yet me think I went but now to bed. This cometh because I have slept well, thinking of nothing. Wherefore I held it out to the uttermost, from my first sleep till I awoke, & therefore have not known the time between, for I have heard of a wise man, that it was the soul, that by musing made the time, whereof it comes, that they who be in misery, think the days and the nights long, because they ever think of their infelicity: and the like haps to him that looks for some thing that he desireth, because he thinks always of it. When I was a boy, I thought it a thousand year from one Shrovetide till an other, because I desired it, and now me think the one is no sooner gone, but the other is come. And peradventure I am as he that hath money enough, & passeth not what he spend, but when he hath but little left, he beginneth to spare, & thinks upon it, as though he were rob when he departeth with any. But let every man say what he will, soon is a year, ten, and twenty, gone, & man's life is a short thing in deed, so as it is a great foolishness of us, that shall so little time tarry here, to charge and wrap ourselves in so many matters of the world, which keeps a man always either in no small fear, or in great trouble, and the more he hath, with the more he must strive. But much more foolish be we to fight with ourselves, as we do the most part of our time, by the reason of our immoderate wills, which we nourish with appetite. Wherefore we live with continual remorse of reason, which doth always molest us: whereas if we did subdue our part sensitive to the reasonable, as becomes, we should live in merry and perpetual peace, first with ourselves, and then with little dolour or fear of things which the world and fortune brings, as I know by experience, since that, that my soul being illumined of my lord, she hath made mine eyes also open, whereby, being minded from hence forth to live as shall become a man, I feel in me a quiet and contentation, as the like I have not felt in my life: therefore blessed be thou always (O my soul) that hast been the cause thereof.  Soul. 
What dost thou muse Just, that thou art so waking? what didst thou think of?  Just. 
I thought how contented a man might live, and how much more happy his life should be, if he would live after reason, and not after senses, as he doth. Whereof it comes, that working, as a man may say, contrary to his nature, he liveth in an unquietness, and in a war with himself most great. For much greater be the vexations that our inward passions work, than the outward.  Soul. 
What other greater good had our first father Adam before he sinned, than this inward peace and quiet?  Just. 
Oh why have it not we as well as he?  Soul. 
Because we have lost through his disobedience, the gift of that justice, which they call original, which God had given him, which was nothing but a bridle and a rule, that kept the inward parts subdued & obedient to the superior, by the which the flesh did not kick against the spirit, nor the sensitive parts wholly did desire other in man, but the preservation of the singular, called indevided, by the benefit of the part reasonable, and not for delight, as they do now, nor did seek other than the good itself: the which thing thy Dante no less pleasantly than learnedly doth express, when being brought to the earthly Paradise, in the state of innocency, he caused Virgil thus to say.  

Free I am, and right is thy pretence,  
And will not do a fault for pleasure of the sense.   Just. 
Well my Soul, me think I am returned into this state, since I began to be reconciled with thee, and having no more matter to trouble me, and not desiring other, than to live after thy counsel, I feel such a contentment in myself, that I think I am happy. But I lament me much of thee, that thou hast not taught me thus to live in my youth, for than would I have thought myself most happy.  Soul. 
Lament of thyself, for thou wast the cause, for I never failed, when thou gavest thyself wholly a pray to thy senses, as beasts do, to reprove thyself, at the least with the remorse of conscience, if not otherwise. But thou driven of passions and servant desires, which that age bringeth with it, didst bewrap thyself in false pleasures of the world, that either thou didst not hear me, or not regard mine admonitions.  Just. 
I will not here after do so again.  Soul. 
Think of it in time, as I have said unto thee before, for when thou goest about it, thou shalt find it yet pain full, because of thy former use of life.  Just. 
Well, be it as thou wilt, we will no more strive, & I will do after thy way, but I pray thee, that thou wouldst give me some rule, how I should rule myself, that I may live in accord with thee, this little time that is left, & show me what I ought to regard that I might be with thee so long as might be, & with the fewest displeasurs, as well of thee as of me.  Soul. 
This pleaseth me much, for I also, though I can attain to my chief perfectness, I desire to be in thee, so long as may, for without thee, I am in a manner unperfect, & this can not be but by the mean of life: which as I said unto thee afore, consisteth in natural heat, & grounded moisture, of the which until the one be spent by violence, or the other by old age, the life endureth: the which thing, some Philosophers considering, said, I was nothing else but a temperature of complexion. If I then teach thee to maintain this temperature, I shall teach thee to live long, but see thou sufferest not thyself after to be overcome of wil  Just. 
Of this I have said unto thee divers times thou shouldst have no suspicion.  Soul. 
Many things there be, that have need to be considered & regulate necessary to the life of man, which, for being more perfect than any other creature, & better membered, that by the multitude of instruments, he might exercise many operations, & not one alone or few, as other creatures do, he hath need of more things than any other, & chief ought to consider the air, the place, and the houses where he dwell.  Just. 
This I perceive well, for of the 
air.  air I am nourished by breathing continually, & of the place & habitation, I take great comfort, if they be agreeable to my nature, & so contrary, if they be not good.  Soul. 
The habitation which thou hast, 
Habitation  is very good & meet for thy behaviour, for it is safe from moisture, defended from wind, & standeth toward the south, that makes it no less pleasant than healthful.  Just. 
In good faith, I may reasonably content me herein.  Soul. 
For the air thou needest not make any business, being borne in Florence, where it is most healthsome, and though it seems to some a little sharp those two months in the heart of the winter, thou mayst by some diligence defend thyself in the house with fires, & with windows well closed, and abroad with wearing somewhat on thy head, that may defend thee, seeing they use now no more hoods, as they did in old time, the which, as our ancients said, were found only for that effect: therefore they were made with great rolls that bore out, & full of soft rushes, to be the more light.  Just. 
In this also I will do as thou wishest me.  Soul. 
Thou must also use great diligence in thy Diet, both in quantity 
Diet.  and quality, for nature in this age is so weak, that she may not be troubled with much meat, nor vexed with variety thereof, and further the natural heat is so weak also, that hardly can we digest the things that be contrary▪  Iust. 
Teach me a rule to keep, and I will not fail to do it.  Soul. 
Thou shalt divide that quantity of meat which thou judgest sufficient to the conservation of thy life, without much trouble of nature, into two or three meals a day, as thy stomach 
Meals.  shall bear, and of this thou shalt not fail being none other impediment.  Just. 
This pleaseth me.  Soul. 
And because, as I have told thee, nature hath for none other end, ordained that thou shouldst eat & drink, but to restore thee moisture and natural heat, thou shalt use for thy meats, all those things that be hot and moist, for of those thou mayst only take nurture apt to preserve thee alive and hold.  Just. 
Which be they?  Soul. 
All those things generally, that be sweet, for among those tastes, 
Sweet.  only the sweet nourish, and the other seem to be made of nature not for other but to repress & temper too much sweet, that it should not distemper a man.  Just. 
How?  Soul. 
Because it is hot and moist temperately, whereof the other uj kinds of tastes, (for so many they say, the prinpall be,) not numbering the oily, which they say, is all one with the sweet: the strong which is called sharp, the quick and the tart, do decline to cold, the strong, which is in Pepper, and is called biting, the bitter and the salt, take too much part with the hot.  Just. 
Then sweet wine, and fruits that be sweet, shall be best for me.  Soul. 
Wine, surely yea, if it be subtle & odoriferous, but thou must drink little, for the sweet, because it is hot, is also light, & strait assaileth the head. Fruits in deed be sweet, but because 
〈◊〉  they be raw, and hard to digest, they get no good blood, nor good humours, but only figs, and grapes, which be very good as Galen doth write, affirming that all beasts & country men, in the time that they be, be fat, & have their flesh clear & soft.  Just. 
And what of fruits that be kept?  Soul. 
Swéetings, Apples, Almonds, Pynochus: but these would be laid in syrup, & after often used, and so take the milk from the Almonds, and use it with sugar. And sweet Fenell is very 
Fenell.  good, for it doth disperse and bear the nourishment through all the members, & the natural humour increaseth, in such sort, as milk doth to him that digesteth it: & I will tell thee further, that Dioscorides writeth, that the serpent every year, casteth his old skin after he hath eaten Fenel.  Just. 
Oh these thy discourses please me very well my Soul, and I will truly (say as that Philosopher) we die even then, when we learn to live.  Soul. 
Thou must mark also, that the 
Water.  water which the usest to drink, be pure, & not mingled with any thing, which thou shalt know when it hath smell or taste, and when it is more light than other: no water to be found, that weigheth less than water pure.  Just. 
It were to much, to way waters.  Soul. 
To avoid that, thou must take the water of conduits, the which being rainy water gendered in the air, of bapors which the Sun hath drawn up, it followeth it is more properly water & lighter than it that passeth by the veins of the earth, because the Sun taketh from the water with his heat, only the parts more light, which be the more sweet: by which occasion some have said 
S●●.  the Sea is salt, because the only earthly and gross parts remain in him which be saltish.  Just. 
Now I know what wrong they do to nature, which, not using the prudence that God hath given them for their profit, do eat and drink of every thing as beasts do, without any consideration.  Soul. 
The flesh of which thou wilt 
Flesh.  feed, must be of those beasts and birds that have long life, for that cometh only (as I told thee) because they have good moisture, and less apt to be corrupted, and consequently, more heat and more perfect.  Just. 
I perceive it well.  Soul. 
But mark above all, that they be young, for in them only be found heat 
Yong. Old.  & moisture perfect: for old either have not heat and moisture, or they have it counterfeit and unnatural: and that this is true, experience itself teacheth, finding that no old beast is good, beginning with Pigeons, Pullein, Kid & Veal, and so through all.  Just. 
I have heard spoken of fish, that 
Fish.  it would be old.  Soul. 
Know thou well Just, that they would say great, but not old: because when a creature cometh to his greatness, 
Great.  than he comes to the point of his flowers, & in the top of his youth. Mark kine, and thou shalt see how much better a Veal is of three or four year, than a beef of eight or ten, and yet they be a like great. Which thing can not be seen in fish, because we can have no knowledge of their age, they living under the water.  Just. 
I believe certainly that thou sayst truth, for I remember I have once eaten at Pisa, of Mullets of ten or twelve pound a 
Mullets.  piece, and the one was good as could be, and the other dry like a straw.  Soul. 
And whereof thinkest thou it came, but because the one was young, and the other old.  Just. 
In wine how must I govern▪ my 
Wine.  self, for I hear much the old wine praised.  Soul. 
Yea to drink it for a medicine, but to nourish, it would not pass one 
Old.  year. For though it waxeth more hot and strong, yet it hath lost that moistness natural, the which doth recreate, and seems much to comfort man.  Just. 
Certainly y● hast taught me a way to live, which if I keep, I believe to live xx. years longer, than I should have done.  Soul. 
It is not enough to be nourished after this sort spoken of before, but also thou must seek with all diligence, to comfort & help the vital spirits, which be in thee, 
Vital spirits.  for thy great years much debilitate.  Just. 
How should I do that I know not?  Soul. 
With things that comfort, with exercise, with diet, with merry life, and without thought.  Just. 
Tell me a little more distinctly, the way I ought to keep.  Soul. 
Because the seat of those spirits is principally in the heart, and from 
Heart.  thence be dispersed by all the members, thou oughtest to use all the things that comforts, among the which the Mirobolane, is so fit, as some say, that they be the tree of life, put in Paradise for the food of man. Many herbs also be 
Herbs.  much to the purpose, as Mint & Borage, and some Spicery, as Canel, Saffron, 
Spices.  & many other, which thou mayst understand of thyself, and of them that have written of the conservation of the life of old men. But I will not thou trouble thyself in using certain superstitions, 
Superstitions  (for so will I call them) that they write, as though man's milk, and young men's blood were drinkable, which they will have drawn at the full Moon out of the left arm, and that they be merry, temperate & sound, & then use it sodden with sugar.  Just. 
No, this will I never do, I would choose rather to die, than live with such vain trifles.  Soul. 
That which Avicen writeth 
Young child.  to hold with him a young child to sleep, of the first age, male or female whether it be, as David the Prophet did also use to recreate his natural heat, will not displease me.  Just. 
These be of the same superstition, whereof I will not think, for I think they be of men, that too much desire to live.  Soul. 
It were also good for the increase of this natural heat, that thou shouldest sometime make exercise, but 
Exercise.  no longer than thou feelest sweat coming and a weariness, seeking in winter warm and calm places, as herds and flocks do, and in Summer, pleasant and fresh, as the birds do: It helpeth much to walk alongst the rivers running, 
Rivers. Plants.  and among the plants green and odoriferous, because the course of water seem to cause an appetite of eating, & the odor that the lively plants give, helpeth much the vital spirits of man, and green colour comforts much the sight. 
Green colour.   Just. 
Tell me the reason why writers use to have green about them, and every one saith, it comforts the sight, but dost thou know the reason?  Soul. 
Be it so, but thou must know that the nature of sight is clear, and 
Sight.  friend of light, but is very easy to be put abroad and dispersed. Therefore when it looketh on things much light, it is dispersed to much, even as when it looketh in darkness, which is enemy to it, it fleeth and restraineth the beams into a small place. Wherefore sight desireth to enjoy light, in such sort as it delighteth, and not disperseth, and so it can take no comfort or little, in those colours, that take more of dark than of light, because it can not there delight nor spread: and of those that takes part too much of light, it can not likewise take delight without hurt, for spreading to much: but the green colour only participating temperately of clear and dark, giveth both of the one and the other, that is delights & preserves with a pleasant alteration, as doth also the clear water, which resisteth without offence of the eyes, not suffering to spread all at once: for things that be hard & sharp do in a manner cleave them, & those that be raw, give them way to pass: but those that have a thickness in them, & with it a certain pleasant shining, as glasses, do not cleave, nor disperse them.  Just. 
When all is done, he that liveth, shall ever learn.  Soul. 
I would also thou shouldst comfort thy brain sometime with sweet 
Brain.  things: for think not that nature, the which as she never faileth in things necessary, nor abounds in superfluous, hath made, that a man should only take pleasure of odours (for other creatures take no pleasure in odours further than by eating) without any cause, rather hath she done it, that he with that should temper the coldness of his brain the which though it be in all beasts cold by nature, so a man hath it most cold, because he hath it greater, rate for rate, than any other, for as much as he hath to work by it more operations than any other: and odours be all 
Odours.  hot in themselves, for they be nought else but evaporations that come from things, and be dispersed by the air by the mean of heat.  Just. 
Oh how goodly be the secret things of nature? I do not marvel surely, that the more part of them that begin to taste them, do for sake many times all other doings.  Soul. 
The rule of the diet thou shouldest use for restoring of the strength of thy stomach, itself shall teach thee which desire 
Stomach.  or refusing of meat. But I would not for all that, that thou shouldst pass one of those terms, in the which thou art wont to take meat, but that thou take somewhat: for the stomach, when he lacketh to eat, either he wasteth himself, or he doth digest of those humours, that make ill blood. And for this purpose I think it very meet to take the yolk of an egg new laid, or the crumb of new bread in a glass of good wine, 
A sop in Wine.  whereof I can not see a thing of nature made more perfect: for it heateth the cold state of the body, it refresheth the heated, it moisteth the dry, & drieth the moist, it receiveth the grouded moisture; and nourisheth the heat natural.  just 
Certainly man may see by this how much Nature hath been friendly to him, having made for him only, so perfect, and so precious liquor.  Soul. 
Thou must also see, if thou wilt that we be long together, that thou put away Melancholy and pensiveness, which draweth the spirits 
Melancolie.  to the head, taking them from that part, where they should make digestion, and other works appertinent to preserve thee.  Just. 
Certainly thou sayest truth, for when I have any care, I have no desire to eat.  Soul. 
Flee to much watch, and too 
Watch. Solitariness  much solitariness, for the one makes thee weak, and the other causeth in thee, many times weariness and sloth: and if thou wilt needs live alone, think on merry and pleasant things, which may recreate thee, and not destroy thee. Seek sometime to play, that may make thee pass the time, 
Play.  and do not altogether refuse the things that pleased thee when thou wert young. For it is impossible to revive the body, unless the wit also wax young. But understand thou not by this, that I counsel thee to give thyself to the pleasures of Venus, for that is clean 
Venus.  contrary to thine age, and as much would hurt thee, as it would peradventure help them that are to come: and it would hap to thee in using them, as doth to the grasshopper, 
grasshopper.  which when the new cometh out of the old, they leave their skin either void or dead in the earth.  Just. 
Of this I have no care: for it were a great foolishness to diminish himself, to increase other.  Soul. 
Surely it were no small error, knowing that Nature that attends only to save her kind, by and by as she hath brought forth one, that can get an other like himself, makes no more count but to save herself.  Just. 
Doubt not of this: for I will not serve from thy will.  Soul. 
These be the things that I desire thou shouldst observe (that we might live as long as we could together) & do only appertain to thee: but to live merrily 
Mirth.  there be certain other that appertain to us both, which although they proceed principally from me, yet can I not do them without thy help, and if thou let me not do them: of the which I will say somewhat how thou oughtest to govern thyself.  Just. 
I desire it much, seeing (as I have said unto thee) it seems unto me that all the contentation and quiet that I feel, doth rise of our living together unitedly, and in such perfectness of peace.  Soul. 
These years of age in the which thou art, being the last (for when thou livest till the age decrepit & impotent the strength is so diminished, that I can not longer exercise in thy members perfectly my operations) even as the end is ever more perfect, than the means that be ordained to it, so must it be more perfect and more notable than all the rest, for as much as many things in our young and lusty years, that were worthy of excuse, be now in us doubly to be reprehended. Wherefore because man aught, for that Nature so requireth, ever as he can, to help an other, in this age he ought 
Help other.  most to do it, and taking the fashion of a Rose that can not remain shut, 
Rose.  as thy Dant saith in the last part of his Banquet, to put forth and spread the odour that it hath gendered in itself, whereby those virtues that he hath used in other ages, and that have been in him only proofs and purgations, aught in this to be examples & lessons.  Just. 
Surely thou sayest truth: for now it seemeth that of every little error that I commit, I get more blame, than of the great that I did in youth.  Soul. 
All vices be fowl in every age, but in this they be most fowl: 
Vice in age.  and therefore thou oughtest first to spoil thee of all passions, and not to give ear at all to the instruments of the senses, but for thy needs only: for thou knowest we are so fastened together, that if thou sufferest thee to be carried away of other, I must suffer 
Passions.  myself to be carried away of thee.  Just. 
I am well disposed so to do.  Soul. 
Having thus subdued thy passions not reasonable, and attending only on my services, I may exercise me with thy great delight, our honour, and the profit of other, in all those virtues that be meet for our age, among the which the first is Prudence, which seemeth, that above all the other 
Prudence.  by long experience belongeth to old men, directing all our operations to a laudable and honest end, and neither to will nor speak any thing but honest, and to provide to all our need with reason and perfect judgement. And beside this, with the help of Memory 
Memory.  the preserver of things passed, to judge well the present, and to counsel and admonish right others: then with Fortitude we shall not fear any 
Fortitude.  thing, but only evil and blame worthy, and frankly we shall bear adverse things, & in prosperity we shall keep us firm and constant: with Temperance 
Temperance  we shall refrain desire of each thing that might afterward bring any repentance of it: and with justice finally, giving to every one (as well 
justice.  in ourselves as in other) that that is convenient, we will direct all our operations.  Just. 
Oh, what happy life? a God be he, that giving us of his grace may maintain us in so quiet and calm manner of living.  Soul. 
another reason also cónstraineth us to live virtuously, and that is that it seemeth that to old men it is meet to be wise, otherwise they be despised, and so where that age ought to bring them reverence and honour, it is to them dispraise: and none seemeth wise, unless he be counted good, though he be not good: for the beginning of 
Wisdom.  Wisdom is to fear God.  Just. 
That is most true: For as there can not a thing be found, that is better & more profitable to men, than a good man, so can there not a thing be found that more hurteth him, than an unjust man, of lewd and evil conditions, of the which thing a certain philosopher considering, said, that one man was the wolf of an other, and not the Wolf.  Soul. 
We ought also to consider, that this age bringeth with it a certain authority, 
Authority in Age.  by the which it seemeth convenient, that other men should credit him: wherefore we ought to be very gentle in speech, and to reason always of good, to reprove young men, yet with a certain sweetness, which may cause in them rather a love of good, & an appetite of honour, than a fear of pain, or a dread of shame, which we shall always well enough do, if we will remember that we were once young men ourselves, & subject to those wills that that age bringeth with it.  Soul. 
Oh in how few reigneth of like age such discretion?  Soul. 
Our talk must also be pleasant 
Talk.  but civilly and honestly, fleeing always to lament those incommodities that old age bringeth with him, and not to praise more than needs, the time in the which we were young men: for in that age it being pleasant of itself, a man taketh pleasure of every thing, which seem much better than they do in old age.  Just. 
Many times all old men falleth into this error.  Soul. 
If we did otherwise, we should be eschewed of other, and so lack Company, which is one of the 
Company.  greatest pleasures that this age hath. Which thing Tully knowing, in his book of old age saith, in the person of Cato the elder, a will and desire to reason more than I was wont, is increased in me.  Just. 
These things be very true.  Soul. 
Yet this is not enough: for we must think there is an other life, 
Other life.  to the which we go continually: for in this we be as pilgrims that have no certain City, and we be in an age that can not long be from death, so as we must study to gain some thing for that place, where we must always remain.  Just. 
This is nothing to my desire, every thing had gone well, if thou hadst not spoken of death. 
Death.   Soul. 
Wherefore cometh this, but that either thou art yet to much given to the world, or that thou hopest not to go to a better life? The which shall not chance to thee, if thou unite thyself to me: for I that am immortal, shall show thee, that this that thou 
Shadow of life.  callest life, is a shadow of life, yea rather a great and continual death.  Just. 
I can not tell I, but it is sure a great thing to lose this being.  Soul. 
Yea, if it should be lost, but it is not lost, but rather won, either a worse or a better: and it is in our power by the mean yet of the grace of God, which giveth to who so ever will have it, and already hath showed to us by his great liberality, the greatest part, in making us to be borne in christian religion.  Just. 
It is true, and by this that thou speakest, doth diminish a little the fear of it.  Soul. 
Let them fear death that have not the light of Faith: for to us Christians, since our Saviour died for us, it is become but a sleep▪ as he said of those dead that he raised, that they were not dead, but they slept, out of the which sleep we being awaked by his grace shall return into a more free being, without any perturbation.  Just. 
Well go too then, and be thou sure I will assuredly believe thee.  Soul. 
We then must do as that wise Merchant, which going into a certain 
Merchant.  province to gain, and the time of his return to his country drawing nigh, doth dispose and order all his things, & then satisfy either with deeds or words, all them that he thinketh be in any mean burdened by him, that departing with good grace, he may be after of every man thankfully & with more honour received in his country.  Just. 
This certainly doth not displease me.  Soul. 
We must therefore dispose, that the substance which we have in our 
Our goods.  hands, may come to them that they ought after our separation (that no contention be for them, which thou knowest to be great and troublesome) but so as we do never lack that is necessary, & so take from them the love, that though we saw some not go well, it should not trouble us, thinking that those should go evil that were theirs, and not ours. For he that liveth in 
riches.  Riches with fear to lose them continually, is poor. Then discoursing with memory, our life passed, we shall seek to satisfy all we have offended any way, and as the good Mariner when he draweth 
Mariner.  nigh the port, we will strike sail of our worldly operations, & return, to God. We will leave all study, & only the little, that this age will bear, we will exercise in holy letters, of the study 
Holy letters.  of the which shall grow in us a lively 
Faith.  faith, informed of charity, by which 
Hope.  we shall love God above all things, and 
Charity.  our neighbour as ourself, with a certain hope of the merits of Christ, that as sure of our health without any perturbation we shall go to death.  Just. 
All these things but one do please me, and that is, y● calling again with memory of the life passed, for in doing so I know that we shall find to have offended God so sore and so oft, that it will bring us fear, and not trust in death as thou sayest.  Soul. 
This might well come unto us, if Christ had not, as he hath, borne 
Christ.  all our sins upon him, and had not promised to pardon us every time that we return to him, and said unto us, that he loveth us much more than the carnal fathers do their sons.  Just. 
Wilt not thou, that he should be angry with us every time we sin?  Soul. 
When we sin? No: but when we persever in sin, and will never acknowledge him for our God. Yea, tell me if a Graver will not be angry, seeing his pictures, if they be not holden up fall and ever go down, because he made them of a matter which hath that inclination? wouldst thou that God should be angry with us, when we sin, which knoweth much better that he hath made us of this flesh so much inclined & prompt to sin, as we can not but sin, rather doing otherwise, we should be no men? But because he knoweth that to will, and not to will, is ours, it sufficeth 
Will.  him, after that we be sorry (so it be from the heart) that we have offended him: & therefore let us take heed that the sin we do, do not rise in us of malice, but be of the infirmities and inclination of the flesh: the returning after to him, we may say for our excuse together with the Prophet.  

Behold▪ in sin I was conceived,  
And thereto by my mother's fault received.   
Wherefore he regarding our intention, saith of us as he did of him.  I have found a man according to my well. Just. 
With what boldness shall we ever go before his face, having so oft offended him, by our sin and disobedience?  Soul. 
With that, with the which, the son always, goeth to his father, although he hath been very disobedient, it he will yield himself in his fault. For although the father whiles he is absent and seeth him not, waxeth cruel against him, so soon as be seeth him turn again to him, & repent that he hath offended against his will, he feels growing i● him by the mean of fatherly love, a pity so sweet, toward his son, that although he force to show himself to be angry with him, yet he can not, but will show some sign of love to his Son in his countenance, and in the end leave his Ire, and receive him in the place of a son. Hast thou not read 
Prodigal child.  in the Gospel of the Prodigal child, the which being departed from his father's cure, and having done away all the part of his heritage, which he had of his father, fell into great misery and want, and remembering his father's house, determined to return thither, who being come before his Father, of two things that he thought to have spoken; he said but one: that is, that he had sinned before God & him, and that he asked pardon: the other that he would have said, was, that if he would not receive him for his son, at least he would take him for a servant, but he spoke it not?  Just. 
And why?  Soul. 
For so suddenly as he spoke, there appeared in his father's face, so great a fatherly love, that he knew he would never suffer him to be among his servants, whiles he stood under obedience of his father, but would restore him to the degree of his son: wherefore he put himself liberally into his arms, leaving to him to think that that he would do.  Just. 
Thou dost comfort me, and encourage me (my soul) with these thy considerations, that I will not say I desire death, but I may well say that I have not so great fear of it as I had.  Soul. 
The more thou shalt remember thou haste every hour followed thy senses, & I following thee committed greater errors, the more shall we be afraid of ourselves: & as he that knoweth the more infirmities he hath, with so much more 
Sick man.  speed and care he runs to the physician, so with sincerity shall we run to Christ, that can only heal us: and remembering that he that hath suffered for us, is our advocate, and he that shall judge us, we shall have no fear at all of our condemnation, being for all that in continual fear, and in great care, as much as lieth in our power, no more to offend.  Just. 
Thou haste given me this morning, my Soul, so great comfort; that where before there was nothing that more troubled me than death: now I have none other fear, but that mine unperfect nature can not flee, the which forcing me from henceforth not to dissent from thy commandments, I will submit me to thy yoke, and will accord me to all that thou shalt counsel me, thinking that that must be my health.  Soul. 
That is it that I desire above all thing: and in this good purpose I will that thou rise and go to thy work, for the Sun is now a good height.   

The eight Reasoning. SOLVE. IUST.  
WHat ailest thou Just this night that thou sleepest not? what meaneth it that thou turnest so oft in thy bed and rest not, thou art well enough, and I trouble thee not, we being this good while so well agreed together.  Just. 
Although I feel none evil, and thou my soul dost not trouble ●e, yet have I other cares that suffer me not to sleep.  Soul. 
What cares can they be? tell me seeing we be agreed, tell me what it is (thanked be the liberty & the strength that God hath given us) that can hurt us, but only he? or who can work such grief or pain, as may take us from our good purpose?  Just. 
Who? they that work woe to every man, the World and Fortune.  Soul. 
The World & Fortune, give 
World. Fortune.  annoyance only to them that can not guide their own life, for they either be of such sort, as they may be avoided or no. And those that may be avoided, the wise man shifts away with his wisdom: and of the other, foreseeing what they be, he is not grieved.  Just. 
These be things easy to be spoken, but to do them, more is required than words: tell me, how can a man flee Envy, which is ever borne against good men, of the which riseth every day a thousand things displeasant?  Soul. 
Doth Envy annoy thee, and is 
●auie.  it that that makes thou canst not sleep.  Just. 
It is: for since by thy counsel I have brought myself to this merry and quiet life, such Envy hath been borne me that I can not endure. One saith what thinketh he he is? is he any better than a Couper? An other saith, I esteem no man, and nothing can please me. An other saith, I think myself too wise, and that I will reprove every man: and in effect I am so envied, that every man is a grief unto me, & that I can abide in no place.  Soul. 
Thou art fallen into a talk, wherein before this time I have wished to deal with thee, to deliver thee of this thy false opinion, for I perceived well thou wert awry, but now I will that we tell truth, & not one to deceive an other, willing it to be understood, that we have done for the commodity of other, that which we have done for ourselves. And I will not do now, as our neighbour did, which, after he was broken, being reprehended of some of his creditors, that he spent too much, he would make them believe he did it for their sakes, that he might be in health and able to pay them, for he that is deceived of himself, shall easily be deceived of other.  Just. 
I do not desire other thing, but that thou wouldst tell me truth, as I am disposed to do to thee.  Soul. 
What Envy is it that thou sayest is borne thee?  Just. 
What envy? have I not told thee, that it seemeth that every one a while since do dispraise me, and say evil of me, and do not esteem me as they were wont? This can not be other wise but for the envy they bear me, because I live so contented in this my state, as it is, and that I pass the time so merrily, and with such quietness as I do.  Soul. 
All is, whether it be Hate or Envy that they bear thee.  Just. 
What is that the matter?  Soul. 
Yes, for Envy comes of an evil 
Envy.  intention of him that envieth, and hatred of some fault that is in the thing 
Hate.  hated: But knowest thou where of it cometh theiseme to thee both one? because both of them is contrary to love & benevolence, which is nothing else but a will & desire of the weal of our neighbour.  Just. 
Surely I thought they had been all one thing, and that there was little difference.  Soul. 
It is not to be marveled much, vices being, (as plutarch writeth) like a multitude of hooks, whereof if a man touch one, many of the other cleaves unto him. Nevertheless, if thou considerest well, they be much different: for envy is only borne to them, whom thou thinkest do lead their life happily, and hate, to them that be faulty, or that have done thee some injury. And therefore envy is borne only to men, but hate also to beasts. Besides this, beasts have hate, but not envy, & that comes, because not having the discourse of reason, they can not judge of the felicity of other.  Just. 
O thou beginnest to make me understand the truth.  Soul. 
The hate may be sometime just and reasonable, but envy never. And that is, because a man may justly hate the evil things, but he can not with reason ever envy the good, but when they have it that do not deserve it: but that is no envy. This judgement must be left to God, that can not err, & therefore many shall confess they have some in hate, showing that he deserves it, but no man, or seldom, will confess he bears envy to any man, but rather when he doth it, he will seek ways to cover it, saying he hateth, affirming that he which hateth not evil, deserveth blame.  Just. 
Certainly, all that thou tellest me, is true.  Soul. 
We see also, when they whom thou hatest, fall in misery, or infelicity, thou ceasest to envy them. But hate doth not so, but ever followeth him, who is hated, in what estate so ever he be.  Just. 
This also is true.  Soul. 
Further, hate faileth as oft as thou art persuaded, that he whom thou hatest is good, or that he hath done thee no injury: where as envy, the better he is spoken of, whom thou enviest, the more thine envy increaseth.  Just. 
It is truth.  Soul. 
Hate also many times is quenched, when he to whom thou bearest it, doth thee some benefit: whereas envy, (what soever benefit he doth thee, that is envied) never diminisheth. And the like is, when any gift is made thee.  Just. 
This is well seen true every day, yet gifts have many times such force, as of enemies they make friends.  Soul. 
Then it is not to be marveled, though they do many times corrupt justice.  Just. 
Our friend said well, which was to pleasant with this devise, that he only joyed in present state, because the time past was gone, & the time to come was uncertain.  Soul. 
Hate finally, till the thing hated be utterly extinct, persecuteth ever, as we see many times one enemy to an other, whereas envy so soon as felicity faileth in him whom he envieth, ceaseth strait: and thou knowest Just, when it cometh properly of envy, as of a house, the which because it is too high, keeps the light from thee, which annoyeth thee, whiles it is so high, but when it is made lower, thou carest no more,  Just. 
This similitude hath well satisfied me.  Soul. 
Art thou yet certain, that hate and envy be not one thing?  Just. 
I am.  Soul. 
And that the cause of envy, or to say better, the fault, is in the enuier, and riseth in him of his nature evil, having envy (as I have said) only to the felicity of an other, where in hate, it is in the thing hated, the which is nought to thee or to an other, or so seemeth, hating only the evil, or that doth the injury?  Just. 
This I grant.  Soul. 
Then tell me, what be thy felicities, or what parts hast thou to be envied?  Just. 
I can not tell, I live quietly, con●ented with that little that I have, and am not so careful for the world, as most men be.  Soul. 
This may every man do as well as thou.  Just. 
It may peradventure be, because I live quietly after my state. And besides this, I have some quality more than other, and have friends that make account of me.  Soul. 
This is the less cause, for though thou art well to live, according to thy calling, yet thou art not rich: and the rich be they that be envied. Again, 
The rich envied.  though thou mayst be called witty, and of good judgement by my help & work, yet thou art not excellent, that any man might envy thee therefore. If virtue may be envied, if Nobility of blood, of parents, or of state, I am most certain that thou doubtest not, unless thou be a fool, nor for thy friends, not having such as might make thee to be repined, many of them being worse than thyself.  Just. 
Whereof comes it then, that they grudge at me?  Soul. 
That is the very thing I thought to tell thee, that we both considering these things, and the occasions, might avoid the cares that come thereby, the little time we have hereafter to live.  Just. 
And that is the thing that I desire to know, therefore tell me what I must do, not to fail?  Soul. 
Know (Just,) among other things, of defect and want which old age bringeth with it. It breedeth in him that knoweth not himself well, such an opinion of himself, that makes him think himself wiser than he is, whereby he ceaseth not to praise himself, & his things, & to blame without all modesty other men's, to reprove, without all discretion young men, not remembering what he did when he was young, as they be.  Just. 
Is not an old man wiser than other, though for nothing else, but for his experience?  Soul. 
Yes: but all is, wisely to use his wisdom in time, where and when it is convenient. For doing otherwise, in change of reverence and honour, he getteth dispraise and hate, of the which thing y● mayst well take example of thyself  Just. 
What do I, whereof this should come?  Soul. 
I will tell thee, thou art so vainglorious of thyself, that thinking thou hast no peer, thou despisest and contemnest all men. And thou wilt stand some time in reasoning, as one that deceue●t thyself much, that there is none that knoweth so much as thou, & certain of thy friends: in manner, as by this so vain arrogancy, thou hast got a great sort of enemies, which stand always which their eyes turned upon thee, to see if thou do amiss, that they might make it evident to other: & they be those, thou sayest do bear thee envy, which can not be, thou having nothing, that deserves to be envied, but hate they may well, because of thy usage to them. Nevertheless, if thou wilt follow my counsel, thou shalt make the most part of them thy friends, & of them that will not, thou shalt got some profit: 
Profit of enemies.  for to have some enemy i● good.  Just. 
Whereto can an enemy ●e good?  Soul. 
There is nothing in the world so evil, but may be good for some purpose. Tell how many Mines & Herbs venomous be in the world, which being well used, be good to heal a thousand of our diseases. And so it is of enemies, for as those beasts that abound with heat, do not only digest many pestiferous things, but also nourish themselves, where it would do many other hurt, and as hunters do not only take heed that the wild beasts do not hurt them, but also do feed of their flesh, and clad them of their skins: so wise men do not only know how to deal with their enemies, as they can not hurt them, but also can get profit by them.  Just. 
What profit can be gotten of enemies?  Soul. 
I will tell thee First thy enemies do thee this good: as the scout & guard of a city besieged, gives advise to him that hath charge of all that might offend, so they standing always waking to observe thy behaviour, they advise thee by speaking evil, and reprehending all that thou dost, of all that thou oughtest to take heed.  Just. 
So do also true friends.  Soul. 
They do: But because the love they bear thee, doth sometime blind them, they see not many times those wants which the envious see. And although they do see, yet being of thy part, they excuse them. And so sometime they will call craft policy, which thine enemy will call plain malice, or fraud. Is not he therefore to be set by, that marking all thy operation, might reprove thee of all thine error? And is not this able to work a knowledge in thee of such prudence, that thou mayst ever regard what thou dost, and restrain thyself, at the lest with fear, and ever live virtuously & honestly?  Just. 
It is true, that a man hath more fear to err in the sight of his enemy than of his friend.  Soul. 
Therefore it is good to have both friends and enemies, that at lest fear may draw thee from that which might work thy shame. Which thing Scipio Nasica well knew, when he heard one say, that the Roman estate was in most surety, because the Greeks were brought to bondage, and Carthage overcome: Rather is it (said he) now in most great peril, because they have now no more whom to fear or reverence.  Just. 
Oh goodly saying, and worthy so good a man.  Soul. 
And so enemies (doing as he that would have stricken Prometheus of Thessalia, did cut an impostume that he had, and healed him) many times believing to hurt, they do thee good.  Just. 
Wilt thou not grant me that it is better to have friends than enemies? 
Friends.   Soul. 
Yes, and specially when they are faithful, nothing in the world either more sweet or profitable than true friendship. Nevertheless enemies serve many times to stir thee with their bitter words, which friends with their gentle reprehension do not. Beside they advise a man of certain common faults, which friends seldom know.  Just. 
Of this I know thou sayest well.  Soul. 
Enemies also help to this, that in suffering both them and the injuries they do thee, a man is acquainted the better to bear the troubles that come in the care of household, and in ruling either himself, or his family, whereby it seemeth not so sharp unto thee, if Fortune give thee either a shrewd wife or children of evil condition, or beastly brethren, and so are no less profitable to thee than thy friends: for as thou learnest of thy friends by their conversation, benignity, magnanimity, & many other virtues, thou learnest by bearing thy enemies, mildness & patience, which how needful it is in this world, thou knowest, every hour somewhat happening that displeaseth us.  Just. 
That is often seen, and be sure troubles enough in every one.  Soul. 
Enemies be also profitable, because having sometime with whom to contend, a man becomes more ware in his speech, more prompt in answer, more quick in accusing, more sage in defending, more prudent in reprehending, and more prompt in returning injurious words to him that speaks them. But I will not they serve to the purpose, for being now in the age that we must shortly change our country, every thing is meeter for thee than contention: but I will have them serve thee only for one thing, whereby thou mayst with thy less blame ease the part of anger (but with such modesty as thou mayst be praised) that after thou mayst be to thy friends all gentle and courteous.  Just. 
How wouldest thou then, that I should govern me, with these thou speakest of, that have me so in hate, for I will now believe it is so, for the strong reasons that thou hast made therein.  Soul. 
I will tell thee: thou must do two things, one of the which, and the more of weight, pertaineth to thyself and that is, that thou take away all those customs and manners, of which may proceed this hate, which they bear thee, as to despise or to contemn any person, and to blame other men's things, and the present time, and those manners that be used now a days, though thou be otherwise affected.  Just. 
Should I not blame things when they be not well? If I should do so, they would say I understood nothing.  Soul. 
I will, if thou wilt get the name of a wise or prudent man, that thou do it with working, and not with reproving, for that is the way which the ignorant useth, and malicious: and when thou seest a thing that stands not well, it is enough not to praise it, and learn of our Punturino, who, though there be few in this age, that can compare with him in painting, never blames any other men's works, unless he be forced to say his judgement in a case. Praise those that thou praisest, moderately, that no disdain grow among them of that science, that are not praised of thee. And in sum, lay away the opinion thou hast of thyself to be wiser than other, for that would make thee little to esteem other, & the things that do not depend of thee, whereby thou shouldest be called rash or proud: & thou mayst well do it, when thou thinkest other be men as well as thyself.  Just. 
This I can easily believe, for I never found man yet but in some thing knew more than myself.  Soul. 
And when it shall hap that thou defendest an opinion against some other, do it as modestly as thou canst, praising always him that doth as our master Pier Francis jambulari, a man certainly of no less good judgement than great learning in his operation, wherein he hath with marvelous art found the scite and measure of Dante's Hell, where being forced to speak against Anton Manetti, who hath also written, but not so perfectly, saith, that if death had not prevented his honest travails, he should not have needed to have taken this pain, Manetto being a man meet to bring a greater thing to perfection than that.  Just. 
Surely this was a way, and a excuse, in reproving of his opinion, much to be commended.  Soul. 
Thou must also, when thou reprovest any man, do it gently: and above all, be sure, never to reprove any of them that be more cunning than thyself: for doing otherwise, thou shalt many times hear that thou wouldst not. As it happed to Francis king of France, when he was in Bononia with 
Francis of France.  Pope Leo, whom reproving for his sumptuousness, and saying, the ancient Bishops lived in more simplicity and poverty, Leo answered: that was when Kings kept sheep. And the King replying, that he spoke of Bishops of the new testament, and nor of the old: Leo again answered: that was, when kings governed the poor in hospitals with their own hands, meaning saint jews his predecessor.  Just. 
Surely, none other answer was convenient.  Soul. 
Then thou must always speak honourably of them, and when it is told thee that any speaketh evil of thee, then do thou speak well of them, excusing them saying, that they do not know thee, that so say of thee, and therefore do not deserve to be blamed. And if this will not help with them, (which absolutely will help, for to hear that one sayeth well, although thou knowest he saith false, it delights thee) it shall help in the sight of the universal, which hearing that thou sayest well of them that speak evil of thee, they will think thee a man of a good mind: and then study to maintain this good opinion with good behaviour: and if thou wouldst needs be revenged of them, whom thou thinkest to be thine en●imies, this is the best way, because (as Diogenes said) the true way of revengement with thy enemies, is to become from time to time better.  Just. 
These thy counsels, although they be contrary to the common way of life, yet they please me much.  Soul. 
Canst not thou, being a christian man, be content to do it for every man, as a man ought to do it? yea, I will further, that thou love thine enemies: for in this only consisteth the perfection of our law, and in this, it passeth in goodness all other: for where the other grant a man may do injury to him that doth it to thee, our law, desiring to make man good, will not only thou pardon thine enemies, but also thou love them.  Just. 
O how can a man do that? thou hast told me, that he that doth thee injury, thou hatest.  Soul. 
An enemy may be loved, not for himself, but for others cause, in such sort, as thou lovest the children or servants of thy great friend, although they have done thee injury. For thou considering that thy neighbour is also the son of God as well as thou, and bought with the same price, that thou wert, although he be thy enemy, thou mayst love him for God's sake: for doing otherwise, thou shouldest lose 
Paradise.  Paradise.  Just. 
How should I lose it, is it mine?  Soul. 
Thine? yea, and who doubteth, that is a christian man?  Just. 
Which way?  Soul. 
Tell me, when doth the inheritance of the father come to the sons?  Just. 
So soon as he dieth.  Soul. 
Then Paradise was ours as soon as Christ died for us, if that reason were good. But▪ thou hast not said well in that, that the heritage of a father is his sons as soon as he is borne, and that none other thing doth make him heir, but being a son, nor that the father seeketh for other thing to have children, but to have to whom to leave his inheritance. And so we, as soon as we be borne the sons of God, and brethren of Christ by baptism and faith, we be jointly heirs with him of the Kingdom of Heaven. And by this cause, a babe that suddenly dieth, so soon as he is baptized, goeth to Paradise, which is his only, because he is the son of God, and not by any other merit, he never having done any meritorious deed.  Just. 
If Paradise be ours, what need we then do any good?  Soul. 
Yes, it is necessary, not to gain the heritage of Heaven, which is ours by the merits of Christ, as I have said, but because that we should not give an occasion to our Father of Heaven, to disinherit us, as all children do, which behave themselves evil toward their fathers. Therefore a man must do good works only to the glory and honour of God, following Christ, which wrought well whiles he was in this world, only to do the will of his father: so ought we to work well, to do his will (and not to degenerate and want of that is convenient, we being children of a father so good, so liberal, and so gentle) 
Works.  but not gain by them Paradise: for it is not convenient, that our works which be temporal and have end, should have for reward the glory of heaven, which is eterne and infinite: and it is not enough not to do evil, but thou must do well, for he that is not with him, is against him, and beside showeth himself unkind of so great liberality, which God hath showed toward us.  Just. 
Thou haste this morning my soul, kindled in my heart such a love toward my creator, that I am sorry I ever did thing that might displease him, seeing he hath been so liberal and so gentle toward me.  Soul. 
This is it that I desire above all other things: for this shall make thee work as it behoveth a free child, and not as a servant for scare: and in this good purpose, I will that to the honour and glory of him, we make an end of this mornings talk.   

The ix Reasoning. IUST. soul.  
IN deed proverbs be all proved: this old age (as we say all day by proverb) comes with every evil amends, for she doth deprive us not only of delights (for an old man is weary, and irketh all pleasure and pastime) but also doth take away a man's sleep, as it hath done with me, which in best part of the night, when other men sleep, I do nothing but turn me hither and thither, werying my bones in such sort, that when I rise, me thinks, in stead of repose I have felt a great travail: And I think this happeneth unto me, because my natural heat is so weakened, for lack of good moisture, whereof 
Sleep.  it was nourished, that it hath not so much strength, as it can send up to the head such exhalations and vapours, the which being after made thick with the coldness of the brain, fall down again, and filling those places, where the spirits pass, which go from the heart to the head, do gender sleep. And though it send some thither, they be so undigested and impure, that by the coldness of the brain, they be turned into gross matter, and in change of sleep, they breed in me catarrhs, rheums, or other like things, and so in steéede of sleep, I lie with evil contentation, spitting and coughing all the night, as cursed be the years, and the time that be occasions of it.  Soul. 
Just, Just, what a fondness is this? Dost thou suffer thy reason so to be shadowed with Irethat thou cursest years and time on this fashion?  Just. 
Who would not curse, when they make things old? Old Age being nothing else but a receptacle of troubles and griefs, and a privation of all pleasures, which is worse, and a short way that leads all things to corruption?  Soul. 
How many times have I said, that all ages be good, to him that can use them as is convenient: but we use them so, many times, that when we should blame our selves we do complain of other, and most times wrongfully, as thou dost now of old Age, much lamenting she will not let thee sleep, whereof thou oughtest to think thyself much bound.  Just. 
Why so my soul? thou wilt make me think that thou art not the same thing that I am, as I did believe, since thou sayest I am bound to that that keeps me from rest.  Soul. 
Sleep is a privation of the most part of our exercises, and particularly of all pleasures and delights.  Just. 
Rather it is a lightning of all our cares, and a most sweet repose to all our troubles.  Soul. 
That is true, but that makes not against my sentence, and less proveth that sleep shall be good: for first, to me it is evil, taking from me the power of contemplation and to consider the nature of things, occupying all those parts that be necessary to me to use in that office, which grieveth me not a little: for I am not weary, nor suffer pain of my works, but rather, the more I work, the greater delight I have, because I am not corporal, nor made of matter as thou art, which should cause me any trouble, in making resistance to my operations.  Just. 
How, art not thou weary as well as I, which as oft as I have gone about to read at night after supper, haste caused a sleep to come upon me, that I must needs go to bed, and leave reading.  Soul. 
Ah Just, it is not I that hath been weary, but these thy instruments, (without the which, I can not understand any thing,) being shut within thee, have been so wearied, consuming too much of those spirits, by the mean whereof they do their operations, that it hath been convenient for us to repose us, to thee by nature, and to me by respect that I am in thee.  Just. 
I know not this, but I see that thou hast as well slept as I.  Soul. 
I will not have thee say so, for I have been ever awaked, in such manner as I can. Because sleep, (I not being corporal) hath no place in me, and that this is true, thou knowest that he that sleeps, doth nothing: but I fail not to work some way.  Just. 
What operations be they, that thou dost when I sleep?  Soul. 
First I attend with my increasing power, to make digestion much better than when thou art awake, for not having the heart to send the spirits to the senses, that they might do their office, he sends them to the parts, where digestion is made, and so I attend continually with greater force, to turn the nutriments into thy substance.  Just. 
Oh, am not I also appertaining to do this operation?  Soul. 
Yes, as occasion, without the which it can not be done, and as a patient, but not as an agent and principal, for thou knowest well, that I have told thee, that neither of us can work without the other. Although I acknowledge myself so noble, that I think I could understand some thing without thee. Go then further to my power sensitive, which though some of them be bound with sleep, as the outward senses, and the sense common, because those places where they be exercised, be full of fumosity, so as they do not wake, till they be consumed of heat natural: and fancy never ceaseth to do somewhat: wherefore regarding to those visions and images of things that have impressed the senses in the heart, or in the blood windy, whiles they were awake, doth cause Dreams, and so that is also never idle.  Just. 
What, there be some that dreams not, and some that dreams fearful things and inordinate, in such sort, as thou art little bound unto them.  Soul. 
Very few.  Just. 
Be those men, that dreams not sometime, at least when they be old, if not afore: for not to dream cometh of too moist a complexion, the which filleth the head with such fumosity, that they trouble it, and do not suffer those Images that are seen in sleep, to gather whereof it comes, as of a stone cast after an other in a firm water, making those circles and images that the first had made. And therefore children, and such as go to sleep as soon as they have eat and drunk, do seldom dream. But thou shalt see them after in their age, when this moisture is dried up, dream sometime of fearful dreams whereof thou speakest. Evil complexion is likewise the cause, which being distempered, either of some infirmity, or of too much drink, or of some melancholy or strange thought, genders spirits, (in the which the things be impressed that men dream,) so confused and disordinate, as they bring forth such monstrous apparitions as thou speakest of. But what can be said worse of sleep, if it, priving you of all pleasures, do not suffer you to feel any thing at all?  Just. 
If a man whiles he sleepeth, feeleth no pleasures, he feeleth also no displeasures: of the which I know not which he more and greater.  Soul. 
I know well there have been some of so timorous mind, that esteeming more every little dolour, than every great contentation, have said that sleep is one of the best and acceptable gifts that nature hath given to man, because it maketh all equal and alike, whiles they sleep: for feeling nothing, the poor is as happy as the rich, whiles he sleepeth, the which opinion I never allowed. For if it were so, it were better to be a stone, or a tree, which feel not, than to be a beast or a man: and among beasts and men, he that ever sleepeth, or the most part of time, should be more happy than the other. Which thing is most false, for sleep maketh us like to dead men, which some other considering, called it deaths brother.  Just. 
Why do they call it so, they can 
Sleep, deaths brother.  not make it evil? Do we not see two brethren, the one good, and the other nought, thou hast red with me in the Bible, the story of Esau and jacob.  Soul. 
Yea, but he that hath called it deaths brother, hath not considered it as a brother by generation, but by similitude which it hath, depriving you as it doth, of all your operations felicities and contentations, which consisteth in operation. Wherefore, God, because he can ever understand himself, and not sometime yea, and sometime no, is called most happy: and the like be those intelligences that serves him, because they be never letted of any thing, and may always behold God, whereby they be reputed more happy and blessed than we, which although we may well sometime taste by contemplation part of him, we can not stand long in so happy estate, because we be hindered of many divers things: whereof that part which is in us, that understandeth, because it understandeth not always, but sometime yea, and sometime no, is called intellect by name of a power, and they because they understand ever, are called intelligences, by name of operation, and of act.  Just. 
These thy reasons be very good, but they have not yet persuaded me, that sleep is not good. And when I remember the great pleasure that I have in sleeping one sleep of will, as when I am weary, (which thing chanced to me oftener, when I was a young man, than it doth now,) I can not but be sorry of old age, that hath taken it from me in such sort, that mine may for the most part, rather be called a slumbering than a sleeping.  Soul. 
Ah, hast thou seen that of thyself, thou haste confessed that sleep is not good?  Just. 
Oh, in what manner? thou hast understanded me clean contrary.  Soul. 
Rather have I understanded thee well.  Just. 
How?  Soul. 
Because those things that be not good of their proper nature, but only for respect of other, be not called good absolutely, but by chance and respect, and to them only that have need, among the which is sleep, the which being as thou hast said, a restoring of travails, and of the pains of creatures, is only good to them, and yet not ever, but when they have need. And if it seem, it bringeth them some delight, it is in respect of this weariness, which were much better not to have, as those intelligences, whereof I spoke afore, to whom it were a great impediment and annoyance, because they are never weary, for it should diminish their felicity, at least so much time as they were occupied of it. But that thou shouldst be more clear of this, tell me, is eating and drinking to be put among good things?  Just. 
Who doubteth of that, being a thing so good and so desired, to live, and that without them nothing can be maintained alive?  Soul. 
Then what is the cause thou dost not eat and drink always?  Just. 
Now hear a goodly matter that thou hast spoken: because when I have taken of them as much as my need requireth, I have no desire, and having no desire, I have no delight. Wherefore to eat or drink more, should as much loath me, as afore it did delight me.  Soul. 
Then see, that to eat, to drink, to sleep, and like things be good, only to supply a want of them that have need: and the want of a thing necessary, to the being or the well being of an other, is never good, and it were much better not to have need. Whereof thou mayst clearly know, that if old age had not taken away thy sleep, causing thee to have less need of sleep than thou wert wont, thou hadst wrongfully complained of her, as thou dost also, lamenting of time & years, which thou sayst, hath brought thee to this state, foolish & unkind that thou art.  Just. 
O why may I not reasonably complain me of time, it only being the which hath made me so to grow old?  Soul. 
First, because old age is not worse in itself, than the other be: and further, because it is not time that consumeth and maketh things old.  Just. 
Never tell me that, that it is better to be old than young, for certainly, if I had xxv years less, I would think myself happy.  Soul. 
If thou hadst xxx less, thou shouldst be but Just the Couper, as thou art now, and perhaps shouldest be in an age much more perilous and full of travail than this is, that thou art in now. But I will not speak of this: for I will make thee know it manifestly, when I list. I● I do not show thee first, how false and foolish thy opinion is in complaining of time, & more, that thou art old, being a natural thing to be old. And no man ought to lament of those things that nature brings.  Just. 
Say what thou wilt, for seeing I can not sleep, it shall grieve me less, to look for day, and shall rejoice me of that good that thou sayest little sleeping bringeth.  Soul. 
Thou dost Just, as the most part of men, the which not seeing manifestly the cause, which consumeth & wasteth things, when they see any present, they do attribute it to the time. Whereof if they see a man wax old, or forget that he knew, they say it comes of time, & likewise when they see an house fall. yet when they see it builded, they impute it to the workman. When they see a man grow, and come to perfect stature, they attribute it to nature. And so when they see he learns, they say his master hath taught him.  Just. 
What meanest thou by this?  Soul. 
Let me first tell thee what Time is, & then thou shalt see. Time, just, as I have often heard, is nothing but a measure, by the which all motions be measured, which things corporal do, even as thou dost with thy Brace, wherewith thou measurest all things in thy shop: and as that in itself and properly, is a piece of wood, and intencionally in man's mind by consideration, and as it serveth for measure of things, it is a measure: so Time in itself, & really, is the motion of heaven, and as it serves for the measure of other motions, it is called Time.  Just. 
I understand thee, and not understand thee, and I would have thee declare it better.  Soul. 
Hear me, and that thou mayst the better understand, thou must know that a thing which must all be brought under a determined quantity, thou must see it so neither more nor less in thy imagination, but with one of the very self same sort, which thing thou provest every hour in thyself: for when thou wilt count the patens in thy shop, because they be things divided and separated, thou must do it with numbers, which be also divided & separated. And when thou wilt measure an axletree, thou must take a yard, that is joined and continued, as that is.  Just. 
This is most true.  Soul. 
Wherefore, when men will measure motions, which they see continually in these things, generable and corruptible, it was of necessity to do it otherwise. And because in all measures, this condition of necessity is sought, by reason they might be invariable, and never change, otherwise things could not be measured by them, (for if thy yard should sometime diminish and sometime increase, thou couldst never measure any thing rightly with it) men not finding any motion among these natural things, that went always equally, not varying, they went to them of heaven, and not finding among them any so right, as that, which the starry Sphere maketh, called of them by this occasion, without error, they took that to be a measure for other, measuring with it all other motions that be found within these things that be moved, the which thing thy Dant dothso marvelously show in his twenty chapter of Paradise, when he speaketh of this sphere.  

The Nature of motion,  
That in the midst doth rest  
And else where moves,  
Hath here about, her mark addressed.   
And after saith.  

His motion is not by other mean distinct,  
But other all by his, that never is extinct,  
And how the time, hath his foundation,  
Thou mayst it know by this declaration.   Just. 
Truly he saith very well. But we give so much love to this our Dant, that I doubt we will make him seem more fair than he is.  Soul. 
Doubt not of that just. For I tell thee, Dant is one of the best writers, (as I have heard of many learned men that is in any tongue.  Just. 
I would not we should praise him so, as we should be dispraised, as we were once, in defending him that dispraised him.  Soul. 
What say they whom thou sayest do reprove him?  Just. 
That we ought to have some respect to his good qualities: yet thou knowest he was on of the most excellent in our time.  Soul. 
Surely he was a man in all other things to be honoured, but in this not having respect to Dant, we ought to have none of him, & chief of us Florentines, y● do defend our Citizen, & one that hath been a chief light of our country, & causeth the name of Florence to go through the world. So thou mayst answer them, that shall say any more so thee, as one did once, which defending himself a good while with the staff of a Partisane, & in the end the dog biting him, he turned the point, & struck him with the sharp, whose Master saying to him, he should have been content to strike him with the staff, he answered: then should he have bitten me with his tail. But let us overpass, these and turn to reasoning. This sphere not erring, called also the first movable, because it is the first and principal cause of all other motions, turning every xxiiij hours about the earth once, maketh the day natural. And this motion as most regulate, is after taken by the measure of other motions, for of him is made the week, and of weeks, months, and of months years: as you make of farthings groats, of groats, shillings, and of shillings crowns.  Just. 
Tell me, I have ever heard it called Day, all that time the Sun standeth over the earth, & not xxiiij hours as thou sayest.  Soul. 
Mark that days be divided 
Day.  into natural and artificial, and one turning 
Natural.  about of this Sphere in xxiiij 
Artificial.  hours is called a natural day, in the which is included day and night.  Just. 
This is a thing I never heard before, and I can not believe, that when a man speaketh of day, he shall include night.  Soul. 
It is as I have told thee, and ever when you speak of days in things natural, you understand natural days, and in things artificial, days artificial. Tell me, when thou askest thy Till man, seeing the year after thou hast sown, a field of thy corn growing, how many days hath this corn been a growing? and he answereth eight or ten dost thou understand by the day, only the day alone, or the day and night together?  Just. 
The day and the night.  Soul. 
And when thou askest him, in how many days he sowed it, what understandest thou by the day?  Just. 
The day only.  Soul. 
See then that in things natural thou takest days natural, and in things artificial, days alike.  Just. 
Surely my soul thou hast made me understand that I never did afore. Where hast thou learned so many goodly things?  Soul. 
Of experience, because I have so long been in thee, by the help of knowledge that thy senses have given me.  Just. 
Now I know how time is the measure of the motions of these things of the world, but I would have thee tell me better what the motions be.  Soul. 
The motion local, which is that, by which, things move from one place to another: the motion of alteration, by the which one thing goeth from one quality to an other, from heat to cold, or from youth to age: and the motion of quantity, by the which, things be made of greater & less quantity, increasing or diminishing, thus to be borne and to die, called generation and corruption. But these be rather mutations, than movings, because they be done in an instant, and seems they can not be measured by time.  Just. 
How are these movings measured with the moving of heaven?  Soul. 
Dost thou not see evidently of thyself, that one goeth. 3. mile in an hour? how can he, unless his moving be equal to the xxiiij part of thee▪ moving which the heaven maketh about the earth, but understand it of equality of duration? and as much is the one, as the other, and not of distance & length, for in them is no comparison: and so is measured how much one is made greater, or less than an other, and from the one to the other, as from sick to hole, from young to old, to the which movings, be subject these things generable and corruptible, which ever vary, & none can be found, but that is ever moved of one of these movings. Thou thinkest thou standest firm, & yet thou movest ever in alteration, for thou growest continually old.  Just. 
I understand thee well.  Soul. 
Therefore all worldly things they say be measured of time, which is as much to say, as subject to moving, that is measured with the motion of heaven: which things hap not to things divine and immortal, for not being neither generable, nor corruptible, because they be no bodies, and by that can not be made less or more quantity, nor be changed, by reason that they be made of no beginning, which have any contrariety in them, as the Elements, of the which all natural things be made, can not be measured with time as they. Of the movings that be changed from place to place I speak not, for this belongeth only to bodies, & I know thou hast heard preached a thousand times, that God and Angels be not in place: but when it is said they be more here than there, it is understanded, because they show more their operation there, than in other place, but not as they be compassed of our outward form of an other body, the which is proper to be in place, as all things be in this world.  Just. 
Then if I lament that the time hath made me old of young, being a body, why sayest thou I have not reason?  Soul. 
Because time as time is nothing, but in our cogitation. And therefore they say, that if there were not intellect humane, there should be no time, though there were a moving of heaven: even as thy yard in thy shop, if thou didst not use it as a measure, it should not be a yard, but a tree: whereby it followeth, a yard to be nothing but in our cogitation, & as a yard, can do neither good nor hurt.  Just. 
Thou mightst ask my apprentice if it can do hurt or no, that so oft have laid with it good blows upon him.  Soul. 
This operation he doth as a tree, as he is really, & not as a yard, & so should an other have done, that served not for a measure. Therefore if thou wouldst needs lament, thou must do it of heaven, which with his moving, maketh all things to vary, that be included within them, of the which thou canst not reasonably do it, because he with his moving gendering all things, is the cause why thou also art. And though it seemeth the cause why thou & other decay, this cometh not principally of him, because his intention is to maintain this universal, but by reason that he hath none other manner to make the things whereof you be made, which goeth continually changing under diverse forms, & therefore you wax old and finally decay. Yet can you not lament for this of him that hath made you, being better to be of a matter corruptible, than to be nothing at all, which thou oughtest not to do, for though thou art mortal, thou art united with me which am immortal, in such sort as I shall make thee also immortal, by the grace of him that hath created me & sent me unto thee, when we shall rise at the day of the great judgement. So see how evil thou dost to complain of time, and perhaps the more, because thou art waxed old, the age wherein thou now art, being no less worthy to be esteemed, or peradventure better, than all they.  Just. 
To this I will say thou art cunning, if thou canst make me understand it.  Soul. 
I hope it shall not be hard for me to do it, if thou wilt hear reason, and follow it as thou oughtest. But it is now day, arise and go to thy business, and as I shall see thee disposed another time of these things, I will keep promise with thee.   

The ten Reasoning. soul. IUST.  
IVst, O Just, awake, for it is now time, & complain not this morning, that thine age hath taken away thy sleep, for thou hast slept this night as well, as when thou wast a child.  Just. 
O my Soul, thou sayst truth, & I am so comforted, that me think I came but now to bed. But what is that cause I have slept better now than I am wont? I pray thee tell me the cause if thou canst.  Soul. 
If I should answer thee, the disposition of the heaven, which peradventure now is in a being much appropriate to the temperature of thy complexion, thou mightst answer me, that this is the answer of the ignorant, which not knowing the particular causes of things, bringeth forth ever universal, answering to them that ask them, God & the heaven will have it so. Wherefore coming to the particularity wherewith our desire is quieted, I say that thy temperate feeding hath been the cause, which thou didst use yesternight, whereby the quantity of thy nutriment, not having overcome the force of the heat, that aught to seeth it, there hath risen in thee no trouble, & every power hath been able to do his office liberally. So as if thou sléepest not so other nights, the fault is many times of thy fragility, and not of thine age, which as I have said unto thee, doth not deserve to be blamed more than the other which thou hast passed.  Just. 
wouldst thou make me understand, that old age, which is the receipt of troubles, should be good?  Soul. 
I will not make thee believe any thing, but I will only show thee the truth, which thing I shall well do this morning, because thou hast so well reposed thyself, as thou art more able to understand reason now, than when thou hast by some accident altered thy humours, and troubled thy spirits.  Just. 
I will hear thee with a good will truly, for I know that of every opinion be it never so much against reason, a man learneth somewhat. But I shall desire thee, that thou wilt not do as they, whose purpose is only to persuade, using all reason and conjecture, being never so false, so it have any mean to obtain their desire.  Soul. 
Doubt not of this, for I should do thee too much injury, and whom should I deceive but myself, being so united with thee, that must have the same fortune?  Soul. 
Then thou shalt do thy duty, and when thou wouldst do otherwise, I should yield a recompense contrary, and do to thee, as he did to the friar master of the revestry in the Anuntiata, who would have bought a candle to have offered to that image for a vow, and the friar saying to him, take one of these that be here in the church, and give the money which thou shouldst spend, to the revestry: then giving him a bunch of candles in his hand, said: take which thou wilt, and it shall be as good as if thou hadst even now put it in the altar. The man doing as the friar bade him, said: now touch you this purse, wherein my money is, and it shall be even as good unto you, as if you had it, and so the one was even with the other.  Soul. 
Just, let these toys go, for I tell thee certainly, that I shall make thee understand, that old age doth not deserve to be blamed, nor called a worse age, than any of the other. And that thou mightst better understand, mark what wants it hath, or whereof men do blame it, and I will show thee how much both thou and they be deceived, for I otherwise could not defend it, not knowing any want in it. And when I have delivered it of those blames, then will I show the praises of it, and I hope in the end, that it shall no less please thee to be old than young.  Just. 
If there were none other thing but this, that we old men be not only little esteemed, but rather scorned of every one, dost thou not think that old age is an ill thing?  Soul. 
Yes if it came of herself, but if thou considerest well, to whom this happeneth, thou shalt see it proceedeth not of old age, but of themselves, which having had little account of their honour in their life, have been cause that men give them not that reverence that they ought to have, whereby if they be in little reputation with other, their behaviour is the fault, & not their age. So as if thou hast none other cause to blame her, this is worth nothing, but rather discovereth what thy manners be, or have been, that causeth their blame in their old age.  Just. 
Yes I have reasons too many, but because I see I can never prove any with thee, I will not speak them, but yield to thee, and will also (if I can) force myself to believe thee, for if I could do so, it were much to my comfort, for there is not a better thing in the world, than for a man sometime to deceive himself, thinking he is wise or fair, or such like. And he that is in this case, enjoyeth the world, without any care.  Soul. 
Yea, to fools it happeneth so.  Just. 
And have not they pleasant days also? Dost thou not remember of our physician of Florence, which a while was frantic foolish, and being sought unto of a poor woman, to help a son of hers that was in like case, he answered: good woman I will not deal in it, for I should do him to much wrong, for I never had so pleasant time, as 
foolishness.  when I was so diseased myself.  Soul. 
Let these reasons go, for they be not convenient to our nature, and much less to thy age: and since thou wilt not speak, hear me, for I will not fail to do that I have promised.  Just. 
I shall gladly do it, for it is so much betwixt this and day, that I should be so idle, and that would irk me.  Soul. 
Just, I have many times considered with myself that all those things where by they blame old age, (for thou knowest with old men the other do not much keep company, because they of one age, are ever glad to talk together) may be reduced to four causes that be principal of all, and by the mean of age, reputed noisome and grievous of every man.  Just. 
Which be they?  Soul. 
The first is, that it maketh them unmeet to do things: the second, it makes their body weak: the third, it depriveth them of pleasures: the fourth, that he is nigh death.  Just. 
Thinkest thou then, that they blame it without cause?  Soul. 
Yea sure, and that thou mayst know the truth with thine error, let us first examine diligently this their opinion: and to begin with the first, tell me, what things be they whereunto a man is made more unapt by age?  Just. 
What be they? even all.  Soul. 
I would not have thee say so, for thou art wrong: but wilt thou know which they be, only they that be done by force, & they be rather meet for beasts than for men, the greater part of the which be made of greater force than we be for our service, that they might ease us of superfluous travail, & to us she hath given wit, to serve ourselves with it. So if thou considerest well, thou shalt see that the greater part of these operations, that have need of much force, be things servile, & all wise men makes them to serve for those turns. But the great things which be of importance, be not done with force, but with council & wisdom, of the which things old age doth most abound.  Just. 
And what makest thou of Art of war, thinkest thou that can be done without force?  Soul. 
No, but in this, many time's council and prudence doth more than force.  Just. 
Whom canst thou make believe that, that where need is to do, he is more profitable, that sitteth & saith nothing, than he, that bestirreth his hands?  Soul. 
All they that have so much knowledge, or become so prudent by experience of things, which know it is clear, that it is much more hard well to know how to command and govern, than to do well and obey. For standing in this thy opinion, there should follow that he were more profitable in a ship, that roweth, or hales, or spread sails, than the master that governs all, for they work, and he stands and commands.  Just. 
What should he do, that commandeth, if he had not that did obey?  Soul. 
Fewer faults a great deal, than they should, if they had not one to command them: therefore if thou consirest well, thou shalt see few cities maintained in felicity, but that be governed of old men. For although young men sometime augment, yet can they not maintain, for young men be carried with Will, which in them is like the thirst that a great ague bringeth with it, whereby they suffer themselves to be overcome of love, of anger, or of many other passions, which the age hath. And further, they be so ambitious & desirous of praise, that many times they adventure inconsiderately upon enterprises so hard and dangerous▪ that they bring away no less hurt than shame. And that that is worse, they be cruel, and put hope in every little thing, they make little account of their own, they import their secrets to every man, whereby it is an easy thing to deceive them. The which thing happeneth not to old men, which for their long experience, and for that they have oft been deceived of things of the world, they put not so rashly themselves to peril, they tell not so easily their mind, they believe little and hope less. And because they have learned how hard a thing it is to get riches, they cast them not away as young men do, but make store of them, to have when need shall require.  Just. 
And so the most part become covetous, berieving themselves of that liberality, whereof there is nothing found so profitable for man, and chief to them that shall govern other, for it causeth that men serve them for love, and every man knoweth that rule that is done by love, is much more sure and durable, than that is done by force.  Soul. 
That thou thinkest in young men liberality, is for the most part prodigality: for young men give easily to them that praise them, or bring them any delight, where old men because they are more prudent, and know things better, give more to whom is convenient: in the which thing, liberality properly consists. So as thou seest how much thou art deceived, to say, that age maketh a man less apt to do things, where as it maketh them more expert and prudent, with the which virtues (as I said before) only great affairs be done.  Just. 
Well be it so as thou hast said, which in deed I will not utterly deny: for abiding of travel is rather a thing of beasts, than of men, to whom counsel and discourse belongeth: wilt thou deny me, that old Age doth not bring with it so many infirmities, as it so enfeebleth man's body, that it is to be shoonned, and deserves to be blamed.  Soul. 
All other ages do the like, rather worse than it. For those infirmities that childhood and youth bringeth with it, be much more perilous. For they be more sudden and sharp, i● respect of the humours and blood, which be more, & of greater force in young men, than in old.  Just. 
How will you prove that?  Soul. 
What need I labour in it, for experience will make thee certain? seest thou not that there die more children than young men, and how few they be that come to old age?  Just. 
Certainly in this thou haste reason, for I do not believe, that of them that be borne, two of the hundred comes to fifty years.  Soul. 
And whereof thinkest thou, cometh that, but that those ages be subject to more dangerous diseases than old age is?  Just. 
I can not tell, but this I see, there dieth so many young, that there remains but a few old.  Soul. 
Now thou tellest a pretty thing, must not all die at length?  Just. 
Well I will grant thee, that old age hath not more of these dangerous infirmities, than hath any other age, but of certain coughs, catarrhs, palseis, and other diseases which young men have not, and old men be full: what sayest thou now?  Soul. 
I say unto thee, that they rather come of themselves, than of age.  Just. 
How so?  Soul. 
If thou considerest well the life of such as now be, or have been in that age, thou shalt know it of thyself, for thou shalt find them men, which either not considering their age, and how less their power is, to that they were young, they will drink and eat as much as they were wont, or peradventure more, whereby nature for that occasion not being able to make digestion, genders in them that superfluity, that causeth these accidents: or else in their youth have made so many disorders, that they have gotten these evils, which show themselves in age, when they be more weak of nature: but an old man that considereth well his virtue, how much and what it is, and lives orderly thereunto, eating and drinking only so much as may restore his strength, and not oppress him, would live much more hole, than a young man. And thou knowest I have many times taught thee what way to use in it.  Just. 
Then if an old man will be hole, he must mark so many things, as he shall lose all his contentation: for so thou hast confessed of thyself, that this other blame, which we give to this age, that it takes away all pleasure, is not given for nought.  Soul. 
Let us proceed in order, that thou mayst see thou hast not yet caught me. Dost thou not remember that that I have said an other time, that eating and drinking, and other things coming of some lack, be no pleasures but as a man hath need, for when he is sufficed, they be unpleasant to him.  Just. 
If these be no pleasures, there be enough of other, that are taken from her, that she may well be blamed, and without respect.  Soul. 
Rather ought she to be praised most, for if thou considerest well, she deprives only those that be reprovable in other ages.  Just. 
That will not I grant: for a man that can have no pleasure in the world, is as though he were not.  Soul. 
True: but what understandest thou by pleasure?  Just. 
Those delights which the things of the world bring with them. Knowest thou not, that thou art like one born yesterday, & yet there be many years since we first met together?  Soul. 
If thou understandest of those pleasures, that eating and drinking bringeth, & idleness with those vain & wanton thoughts that proceed of it.  Just. 
Of what thinkest thou I mean? of those that we have by fasting or labour, or wasting ourselves with study as some fools do?  Soul. 
Thou art much deceived, rather I say unto thee, that nature hath not given to men, as Archita the Tarentine 
Pleasure's  said, (if thou remember of his life, for I know thou haste red it oft) a greater nor more hurtful evil than pleasure, and delight of the body.  Just. 
Thou sayest so perhaps, because the least part is thine.  Soul. 
Rather, because the truth is so, whereof comes for the most part, treasons of the Country, ruins of cities, enmities of men, & other wickedness, murders, ravin of richesses and adulteries, but of volupt and delight? which so much blind men with their enticement and alluring, that taking from them the use of reason, they he turned into beasts.  Just. 
O reason, yet it feareth not them, as thou dost say.  Soul. 
There is no such enemy as pleasure, which of good reason was called of wise men, the bait of all evil. For where the senses rule, reason hath no place, no virtue is found in them that be given to the pray of their gorge, to wine, to sleep, & those idleness, of the which groweth among us, a thousand vain and unprofitable cares, which keep us always after with our face to the earth, like the brute beasts which lack reason. Thinkest thou then, that age is to be blamed, when she defends us from greater enemies▪ taking from them that force, wherewith they offend?  Just. 
If it were as thou sayest: but grant there is one man that hath no pleasure, is not he in deed, as he were not alive, or as a thing without sense?  Soul. 
Yes. But she takes not all always from men, but only those that be common with other beasts.  Just. 
Then what be they, the remain?  Soul. 
All they that be properly meet for men, and be permitted is by reason, which principally be those delights, that be taken of operations, which rise in a man of those parts that hava in them divineness.  Just. 
Which be those?  Soul. 
All the speculations and exercises virtuous.  Just. 
If I should always be occupied in like things after thee, my servitude should be too great: thou knowest sometime I would have some comfort.  Soul. 
I will not deny thee it, so that thou pass not reasonable terms: but I will say unto thee, that delight that is taken in eating and drinking, and talking withthy friends, is much more acceptable to old age, than to the other ages.  Just. 
What is the cause?  Soul. 
Because there is in old men more moderate appetite, they fall not into drunkenness, or any other alteration of the mind, as young men do, (which have their wills disordinate) if they have not in their youth, made themselves worse. Further they know to reason of more things and better, by the mean of time and experience, and better enjoy the conversation of men, & with much more sweetness embrace the presence of them, than young men do. For of their peers they be honoured, and of their less they be reverenced. Which thing brings them no small delight.  Just. 
If they have seen many things they remember few, because memory in that age diminisheth much.  Soul. 
Yea, in them that exercise it not, which is a vice of manner, not of age, as in many of them to be suspicious, to be covetous, tedious, praiser of time past, estemer of himself more than other, and other like wants: but when she loseth any of her strength, there increaseth so much for it in wit and judgement, that they supply fully for her the fruits, which bring much more pleasure to old men, than doth armour, horses, huntings, dances, and such other that delights young men. Of the pleasures of Venus I will not reason, seeing there is nothing causeth more errors in man than it. But these things that I speak Just, come not to all old men, but to them only, that have so lived in other ages, that their reputation and years have increased in them a like.  Just. 
Which be they, tell me?  Soul. 
The greater part, that thou shouldest not think they were as white crows, for who so ever liveth in any age, though not all, yet in part according to reason, (not being possible, but he that is a man, must err sometime) so the errors he make, be comportable, he is excused of the most part of men, & that age after of herself bringeth him such authority and reputatation, that he is honoured of every one, and the first place given him in every assembly. And to this is memory also joined, and remembrance, that he hath lived civilly, and like an honest man, which thing is more worth, than all the pleasures of any age.  Just. 
Well I will prove thy opinion in this, for I know the pleasure I have had some time, when I have seen myself honoured for mine age sake. But to the other, that more importeth than all the rest, what sayest thou?  Soul. 
What is that?  Just. 
That we be nigh death.  Soul. 
It is true that the term and end of old age is death, where naturally to the other ages it haps not so: the end of childhood is youth, the end of youth middle age, the end of middle age, old age. Nevertheless there is none of all these ages can promise themselves life one poor day. Rather be they more, (as I said unto thee,) that die in the other ages, than they that be old, because of the multitude of great perils, that do chance in life?  Just. 
Then an old man is certain to die, and soon, where a young man may at least hope to be old.  Soul. 
The old man hath possessed that the young hopeth for.  Just. 
What helps to have lived, seeing time past is not?  Soul. 
That that makes the hope of the time to come, which is to come: but what is xu or twenty years more or less, seeing we must needs die, nothing remaining unto us of things gotten in time, but only the acts of virtue?  Just. 
What is xv. or twenty year? O my soul, thou she west to have tasted but a little, how pleasant thing it is to live?  Soul. 
Thou seemest not to know: for if thou hadst considered well the things that haps in every age, thou shouldest find there be many more that it displeaseth, than pleaseth: and that a man must strive with so many things, as our life hath been well 
Life, a Warfare.  heretofore called, a continual warfare. But let us go further Just: If death be to be feared, they ought only to fear, that by death think they shall cease to be, which is desired and loved so much of all creatures, or to them that doubt to go to worse, neither of the which ought to be in thee, thou being a christian man.  Just. 
And what certainty have I, not to lose my being utterly, when I shall die?  Soul. 
None of thyself, thou canst not think otherwise, being by thy proper nature mortal, and seeing that all other things like unto thee, must decay and die: but I say unto thee, that when that time determined, shall come, appointed by God, I that am immortal, shall be reunited with thee, whereby thou shalt rise with me by the grace of the immortal God, void of trouble and clear from all quality, that now causeth thee to change every day to an other, which in the end shall cause me to be separate from thee, whereof shall come thy death.  Just. 
What certainty hast thou of this?  Soul. 
That that exceedeth and passeth all other, the light of faith.  Just. 
And that light thou speakest of passeth the certainty of things, by mean of science. I have heard say that science is nothing but a certainty.  Soul. 
It passeth far, for sciences be the inventions of men, which may err, rather it never doth thing, but there is found in it some imperfection, 
Faith.  and the light of truth cometh or God, which is the high and unspeakable verity. But I will not bring thee more reasons for this, we having so many times red together, that divine treatise that Jerome made, entitled the Triumph of Faith, where is proved of him, all this that I have said, so as he that hath red, and doth not believe, may say, either he understands not, or else is obstinate in his opinion. Therefore lament no more Just, that thou art old, for fear of short life, for if we be nigh death, we be nigh the end of our Pilgrimage, & at the term to arrive in our country, and port of our salvation.  Just. 
I have many times heard this, that we here be Pilgrims, and that this is not our Country: and yet it seems very hard to me, to think I shall depart.  Soul. 
This is full well known to me: for the end which I show thee, and to the which thou art ordained by my occasion, doth pass and exceed thy nature: But suffer thyself to be guided of me, and let us dispose all our business, that when it shall please him that governs all things, to loose this band, let it grieve thee as little as may be, having a sure hope, to be united with me again, in a far better state, and I rejoice to return to my maker. Therefore complain no more Just of thy age, for none of these causes, wherefore thou blamest her, hath place in us, because we be sure (as I have said) to go to a better life.  Just. 
Well, I will do all thou sayest, and in all things put myself to thy will, without making any more account of my will: for I think that we having so long been together, thou hast aught me so great love, that thou wouldst not counsel me but to my good.  Soul. 
Now it seems thou knowest thy weal: for of our discord should come the evil of both us. Therefore let us apply to live together in the love of God, and let us ever hold before our eyes these three things. The first, that God was made man, to advance the nature of man to this dignity, that man might be made God. The second, that he hath been willing to die to satisfy and pay the pain of our debts, we not being apt nor sufficient to do it, being made his enemies, through the fault of our first father. The third is, that we be mortal: wherefore the two first, like to spurs of love, do make us to go cheerfully to the uttermost of our power, through his most holy law, for he should be very hard, that would not be kindled with the love of Christ jesus our saviour, if he consider he was made man for us, and after died for our sins. The third shall be a bridle of fear, that shall not suffer us to go from his will. And though by the infirmity of nature, we commit sometime some fault, it will make us strait turn to him, and humbly ask him pardon. For they only be blessed, whose sins 
Blessed.  (as David saith) be remitted of him.  Just. 
How shall we be heard of him, I remember I have red in the scripture, God heareth not the voice of a sinner.  Soul. 
We shall no longer be sinners, as oft as we shall turn to God, and run to him with true faith, seeing sin is nothing else, but to take our face from God, and turn it to his creatures. But if we turn us to Christ with all our heart, trusting that he hath satisfied for all our defects, as a very mediator, and our Saviour, it shall follow that we shall be united with him as with our head, in such sort by love, that we shall become his members, whereby we shall ever work, after his will. For as the eye, although it be an eye, should not see, nor the tongue, although it be a tongue, should not speak if it were not united with the head, which giveth them strength to work, so we Christians also, although we be christians should never work as we ought, if we were not united with Christ our head, which granteth us by his grace to do it. Of the which union riseth, that his merits also shall come down into us, and we shall cover our faults with his innocency, whereby going after so, before the Tribunal of God, he shall say after the manner of the great Patriarch Isaac, of us, although the voice be of jacob, that is of sinners, yet the members, that is their works be of Esau, that is of my first begotten son, whereby he shall give us his benediction, and in the end the heritage of God.  Just. 
Thou hast given such a consolation this morning my Soul, that (as I said to thee before) I let myself hereafter be guided of thee, and apply me to all that thou dost counsel me, for so I know is for my weal clearly.  Soul. 
God of whom cometh all our good, long maintain thee in this purpose.  
Rise therefore, for see it is day, and high is the sun, and go in his name to do thy exercises, bearing in patience that that comes, never lamenting more of any thing: for all that that followeth, doth follow by his will: nor he will never suffer that any thing shall fall upon us, above our strength, and that we shall not be able to bear, because he desireth much more our salvation than ourselves.   
FINIS.   

¶ Imprinted at London by Henry Bynneman, dwelling in Knight rider street, at the sign of the Marmaide. Anno. 1568.  
Cum privilegio ad imprimendum solum.