The Dial of Princes, Compiled by the reverend father in God, Don Antony of Guevara, Bishop of Guadix, Preacher, and Chronicler to Charles the fift, late of that name EMPEROR.  
Englished out of the French by T. North, son of Sir Edward North Knight, L. North of Kyrtheling. And now newly revised and corrected by him, reformed of faults escaped in the first edition: with an amplification also of a fourth book annexed to the same, Entitled The favoured Courtier, never heretofore imprinted in our vulgar tongue.  
Right necessary and pleasant to all noble and virtuous persons.  
Now newly imprinted by Richard Tottill, and Thomas Marsh. Anno. Domini. 1568.   

To the most high and virtuous Princess, Mary, by the grace of God, Queen of England, Spain, France, both Sicilles, jerusalem, Naples, and Ireland. defender of the faith, Archiduchesse of Austria, Duchess of Burgundy, Mylaine, and Brabante, Countess of Haspourge, Flaunders, and Tyroll. Long health and perpetual felicity.  
THE Divine philosopher Plato, most gracious sovereign Lady, travailing all his life time to abolish the barbarous manners of the Grecians, and to induce a civil form of living among the people: ordained a law to the great comfort of those that followed virtue, and no less to the terror of others that haunted vices. The which commanded, that not only those, which brought in, or invented any new thing that might either corrupt the good manners, violate the ancient customs, hinder through evil example good living, impoison with erroneous doctrine the consciences, effeminate with voluptuous pleasures the hearts, impoverish with unprofitable merchandise the people, or diffame through malicious words the renowmes: should be (as unprofitable membres) from the common wealth expelled and banished: but also ordained, that those which studied to publish any institution, appertaining either to the honour of the Gods, to the reformation of the frailty of men, or by any other mean to the profit of the weal public, should be condingly of the common wealth entertained, preferred, and honoured. Then if this law were just, most gracious sovereign Lady (as it is most just in deed) who deserved more honourable entertainment among the living, or who meriteth a worthier fame among the dead, then Don Antony of Guevara the Author hereof? For by his stayed life God hath been glorified, by his wholesome doctrine the people of Spain heretofore edified, and by his sweet and savoury writings, we (and sundry other nations) at this present may be much profited. The which though they are all pit●y and full of high doctrine: yet this entitled Los relox de principes, above the rest (in my opinion) is most profonde and pleasant. For if the zeal that I bear to his works deceive not my judgement, there is no Author (the sacred letters set apart) that more effectuously setteth out the omnipotency of God, the frailty of men, the inconstancy of fortune, the vanity of this world, the misery of this life, and finally that more plainly teacheth the good which mortal men ought to pursue, and the evil that all men ought to fly: then this present work doth. The which is so full of high doctrine, so adorned with ancient histories, so authorized with grave sentences, and so beautified with apt similitudes: that I know not whose eyes in reading it can be wearied, nor whose ears in hearing it not satisfied. Considering therefore (most gracious sovereign Lady) that this work may serve to high estates for council, to curious searchers of antiquities for knowledge, and to all other virtuous gentlemen for an honest pleasant and profitable recreation, and finally that it may profit all and can hurt none: I (according to my small knowledge and tender years) have reduced it into our vulgar tongue, and under your grace's name hame published it for the commodity of many. Most humbly beseeching your highness to accept in good part (according to your graces accustomable goodness) this my good will and travail: which here I offer as a pledge of my bounden duty towards your highness, and also as a perpetual memory of the fervent zeal I bear to my country. And in so doing your grace shall not only encourage me being young in these my first fruits: but also others (peradventure) of more ripe years to attempt the like enterprise, by the which the divine majesty may be immortally glorified, your puissant name worthily magnified, your royal person duly obeyed, and all your graces natural and loving subjects greatly profited.  
At Lincoln's Inn the .20. of December. Your highness most humble and loyal subject Thomas North.   

The general Prologue upon the Book entituled, the Dial of Princes, with the famous book of MARCUS AURELIUS. Compiled by the reverend Father in God, the Lord Antony of Guevara, Bishop of Guadix, Confessor and Chronicler of Charles the fift Emperor of Rome, to whom & to all other Princes and noble men this work was directed.  
APOLONIUS THIANEUS disputing with the Scholars of Hiarcas said: that among all the affections of nature, nothing is more natural, than the desire that all have to preserve life. Omitting the dispute of these great philosophers herein, we ourselves hereof have daily proof: that to live men do travail: to live birds do fly: to live fishes do swim: and to live beasts do hide themselves for fear of death. Finally I say there is no living creature so brutish, that hath not a natural desire to live. If many of the ancient paynims so little ween life, that of their own free wills they offered themselves to death, they did it not for that they despised life, but because they thought that for their little regarding life, we would more highly esteem their fame. For we see men of haught courages seek rather to win a long during fame, than to save a short lasting life. How loath men are to die, is easily seen by the great pains they take to live. For it is a natural thing to all mortal men, to leave their lives with sorrow, and take their deaths with fear. Admit that all do taste this corporal death, and that generally both good and evil do die: yet is there great difference between the death of one, & the death of another. If the good desire to live, it is for the greater desire they have to do good: but if the evil desire to live, it is for that they would abuse the world longer. For the children of vanity call no time good, but that wherein they live according to their own desires. I let ye understand that are at this present, and ye also that shall come hereafter: that I direct my writing unto those which embrace virtue, and not unto such as are borne away with vice. God doth not way us as we are, but as we desire to be. And let no man say I would, and can not be good: for as we have the audacity to commit a fault, so (if we list) we may enforce ourselves to work amends. Al our undoing proceedeth of this, that we outwardly make a show of virtue, but inwardly in the deed we employ our thorough power to vice: which is an abuse, where with all the world is rorrupted and deceived. For heaven is not furnished but with good deeds, and hell is not replenished but with evil desires. I grant that neither man nor beast desireth to die, but all travail to th'end they may live: But I ask now this question. What doth it avail a man to desire his life to be prolonged, if the same be wicked, ungodly, and defamed? The man that is high minded, proud, unconstant, cruel, disdeinfull, envious, full of hatred, angry, malicious, full of wrath, covetous, a liar, a glutton, a blasphemer, and in all his doings disordered: why will we suffer him in the world? The life of a poor man that for need stealeth a gown or any other small trifle, is forth with taken away: why than is he that disturbeth a whole common wealth left alive? O would to God, there were no greater thieves in the world than those, which rob the temporal goods of the rich, & that we did not wink continually at them, which take away the good renown aswell of the rich as of the poor. But we chastise the one, & dissemble with the other which is evidently seen, how the thief that stealeth my neighbour's gown is hanged forthwith, but he that robbeth me of my good name, walketh still before my door. The divine Plato in the first book of laws said. We ordain, and command, that he that useth not himself honestly, and hath not his house well reformed, his riches well governed, his family well instructed, & liveth not in peace with his neighbours, that unto him be assigned tutors which shall govern him as a fool, and as a vagabond shallbe expulsed from the people, to th'intent the common wealth be not through him infected. For there never riseth contention or strife in a common wealth, but by such men as are always out of order. Truly the divine Plato had great reason in his sayings, for the man that is vicious of his person, and doth not travail in things touching his house, nor keepeth his family in good order, nor liveth quietly in the common wealth, deserveth to be banished, and driven out of the country. Truly we see in diverse places mad men tied and bound fast, which if they were at liberty would not do such harm, as those that daily walk the streets at their own wills and sensuality. There is not at this day so great or noble a Lord, nor Lady so delicate, but had rather suffer a blow on the head with a stone, than a blot in their good name with an evil tongue. For the wound of the head in a month or two may well be healed: but the blemmishe of their good name during life will never be removed. Laertius saith in his book of the life of Philosophers, that Diogenes, being asked of one of his neighbours, what they were that ordained the laws? answered in this wise. Thou shalt understand, my friend, that the earnest whole desire of our forefathers, and all the intention of the Philosophers was to instruct them in their common wealth, how they ought to speak, how to be occupied, how to eat, how to sleep, how to treat, how to apparel, how to travail, and how to rest: and in this consisteth all the wealth of worldly wisdom. In deed this Philosopher in his answer touched an excellent point, for the law was made to no other end, but to bridle him that liveth without reason or law. To men that will live in rest and without trouble in this life, it is requisite & necessary that they chose to themselves some kind and manner of living, whereby they may maintain their house in good order, and conform their lives unto the same. That estate ought not to be as the folly of their parson doth desire, nor as may be most pleasant to the delights of the body: but as reason teacheth them, and God commandeth them, for the surer salvation of their souls. For the children of vanity embrace that only which the sensual appetite desireth, and reject that which reason commandeth. Since the time that trees were created, they always (remaining in the first nature) until this present day, do bear the same leaf, and fruit which things are plain seen in this, that the palm beareth dates, the fig tree figs, the nut tree nuts, the pear tree pears, the apple tree apples, the chesnutte tree chestnuts, the Oak acorns: and to conclude I say all things have kept their first nature, save only the sinful man which hath fallen by malice. The planets, the stars, the heavens, the water, the earth, the air, and the fire: the brute beasts, and the fishes, all continue in the same estate wherein they were first created, not complaining nor envying one the other. Man complaineth continually, he is never satisfied, and always desireth to change his estate. For the shepherd would be a husbandman, the husbandman a squire, the squire a Knight, the knight a King, the king an Emperor. Therefore I say, that few is the number of them that seek amendment of life: but infinite are they that travail to better their estate, and to increase their goods. The decay of the common wealth (at this present) through all the world is, that the dry and withered oaks which have been nourished upon the sharp mountains, would now seem to be daynetie date trees cherished in the pleasant gardens. I mean, that those which yesterday could have been pleased with dry acorns in a poor cottage at home: at this day will not eat but of delicate dishes in other men's houses abroad. What estate men ought to take upon them to keep their conscience pure, and to have more rest in their life, a man cannot easily describe. For there is no state in the Church of God, but men may therein (if they will) serve God, and profit themselves. Nor there is no kind of life in the world, but the wicked (if they persever and continue therein) may slander their persons, and also lease their souls. Pliny in an epistle that he wrote to Fabatus his friend, saith. There is nothing among mortal men more common and dangerous, than to give place to vain imaginations, whereby a man believeth the estate of one to be much better than the estate of an other. And hereof it proceedeth, that the world doth blind men so, that they will rather seek that which is an other man's by travail and danger: than enjoy their own with quiet and rest. I say the state of Princes is good, if they abuse it not. I say the state of the people is good, if they behave themselves obediently. I say the estate of the rich is good, if they will Godly use it. I say the estate of the religious is good, if they be able to profit others. I say the estate of the commonalty is good, if they will content themselves. I say the state of the poor is good, if they have patience. For it is no merit to suffer many troubles, if we have not patience therein. During the time of this our miserable life we cannot denay, but in every estate there is both trouble and danger. For then only our estate shallbe perfect, when we shall come gloriously in soul and body without the fear of death: and also when we shall rejoice without dangers in life. returning again to our purpose (mighty Prince) although we all be of value little, we all have little, we all can attain little, we all know little, we all are able to do little, we all do live but little: Yet in all this little, the state of Princes seemeth some great and high thing. For that worldly men say there is no such felicity in this life, as to have authority to command many, & to be bound to obey none. But if either subjects knew how dear Princes by their power to command, or if Princes knew how sweet a thing it is to live in quiet: doubtless the subjects would pity their rulers, and the rulers would not envy their subjects. For full few are the pleasures which Princes enjoy, in respect of the troubles that they endure. Scythe then the estate of Princes is greater than all, that he may do more than all, is more of value than all, upholdeth more than all, and finally that from thence proceedeth the government of all, it is more needful that the house, the person, and the life of a Prince be better governed, and ordered, than all the rest. For even as by the yard the marchante measureth all his ware: so by the life of the Prince is measured the whole common weal. Many sorrows endureth the woman in nourishing a waywerde child, great travail taketh a schoolmaster in teaching an untoward scholar, much pain taketh an officer in governing a multitude overgreate: how great than is the pain and peril, whereunto I offer myself, in taking upon me to order the life of such a one, upon whose life hangeth all the good state of a common weal. For Princes and great Lords, aught of us to be served, and not offended: we ought to exhort them, not to vex them: we ought to entreat them, not to rebuke them: we ought to advise them, and not to defame them: finally I say, that right simple reckon I that surgeon, which with the same plasters he laid to a hard heel, seeketh to cure the tender eyes. I mean by this comparison, that my purpose is not to tell princes, and noble men in this book what they be, but to warn them what they ought to be: not to tell them what they do, but to advise them what they ought to do. For that noble man which will not amend his life for remorse of his own conscience, I do think that he will amend it for the writing of my pen. Paulus diaconus the historiographer in the second book of his commentaries, showeth an antiquity right worthy to remember, and also pleasant to read: Although in deed to the hindrance of myself I shall rehearse it. It is, as of the hen, who by long scraping on the dunghill, discovereth the knife that shall cut her own throat. Thus was the case. Hannibal the most renowned Prince and captain of Carthage (after he was vainquished by thadventurous Scipio) fled into Asia to king Antiochus, a Prince then living of great virtue, who received him into his realm, took him into his protection, and right honourably entertained him in his house. And certes king Antiochus did herein, as a pitiful Prince: for what can more beautify the honour of a Prince than to succour nobility in their needful estate. These two Princes used divers exercises to spend the time honourably, & thus they divided tyme. Sometime to hunt in the mountains, otherwhile to disport them in the fields, oft to view their armies: But mostly, they went to the schools to hear the Philosophers. And truly they did like wise & skilful men. For there is no hour in a day otherwise so well employed, as in hearing a wise pleasant tongued man. There was at a time in Ephesus a famous philosopher called Phormio, which openly red and taught the people of that realm. And one day as these two Princes came into the school, the philosopher Phormio changed the matter whereupon be red, and of a sudden began to talk of the means and ways that Princes ought to use in war, & of thorder to be kept in giving battle. Such, so strange, and high phrased was the matter which he talked of, that not only they marveled which never before saw him: but even those also that of long time had daily heard him. For herein curious and flourisshing wits show their excellency, in that they never want fresh matter to entreat upon. Greatly gloried the king Antiochus, that this philosopher (in presence of this strange prince) had so excellently spoken, so that strangers might understand he had his realm stored with wise men. For courageous and noble princes esteem nothing so precious, as to have men valiant to defend their frontiers: and also wise to govern their common weals. The lecturered, king Antiochus demanded of the prince Hannibal, how he liked the talk of the philosopher Phormio? to whom Hannibal stoutly answered, and in his answer showed himself to be of that stoutness he was the same day, when he wan the great battle at Cannas. For although noble hearted and courageous princes lose all their estates and realms: yet they will never confess their hearts to be overthrown nor vaynquisshed. And these were the words that at that time Hannibal said. Thou shalt understand king Antiochus, that I have seen divers doting old men, yet I never saw a more dootarde fool than Phormio, whom thou causest such a great philosopher. For the greatest kind of folly is, when a man that hath but a little vain science, presumeth to teach not those which have only science, but also such as have most certain experience. Tell me (king Antiochus) what heart can brook with patience, or what tongue can suffer with silence, to see a silly man (as this philosopher is) nourished all his life time in a corner of Grece, studying philosophy, to presume (as he hath done) to talk before the prince Hannibal of the affairs of war, as though he had been either lord of Africa, or captain of Rome? Certes he either full little knoweth himself, or else but little esteemeth us. For it appeareth by his vain words, he would seem to know more in matters of war, by that he hath red in books: than doth Hannibal by the sundry and great battles which he hath fought in the fields. O king Antiochus, how far and how great is the difference, between the state of philosophers, & the state of captains: between the skill to read in school, and the knowledge to rule an army, between the science that these wise men have in books, and th'experience that thothers have in war: between their skill to write with the pen, and ours to fight with the sword, between one that for his pastime is set round with desks of books, and an other in peril of life compassed with troops of enemies. For many there are which with great eloquence, in blazing deeds done in wars, can use their tongues: but few are those that at the brunt have hearts to adventure their lives. This silly philosopher never saw man of war in the field, never saw one army of men discomfeited by an other, never heard the terrible trumpet sound to the horrible & cruel slaughter of men, never saw the treasons of some, nor understood the cowardness of other, never saw how few they be that fight, nor how many there are that run away. Finally I say, as it is seemly for a philosopher and a learned man to praise the profits of peace: even so it is in his mouth a thing uncomely to prate of the perils of war. If this philosopher hath seen no one thing with his eyes that he hath spoken, but only read them in sundry books: let him recount them to such as have neither seen nor read them. For warlike feats are better learned in the bloody fields of Africa, than in the beautiful schools of Grece. Thou knowest right well (king Antiochus) that for the space of. 36. years I had continual and dangerous wars, aswell in Italy as in Spain, in which fortune did not favour me (as is always her manner to use those, which by great stoutness & manhodde enterprise things high and of much difficulty) a witness whereof thou seest me hear, who before my beard began to grow, was served: & now when it is hoar, I myself begin to serve. I swear unto the by the God Mars, (king Antiochus) that if any man did ask me how he should use and behave himself in war, I would not answer him one word. For they are things that are learned by experience of deeds, & not by prating in words. Although princes begin wars by justice, and follow them with wisdom, yet the end standeth upon fickle fortune and not of force, nor policy. divers other things Hannibal said unto Antiochus, who so will see them, let him read the Apothemes of plutarch. This example (noble prince) tendeth rather to this end, to condemn my boldness, & not to commend my enterprise, saying that th'affairs of the common wealth be as unknown to me, as the dangers of the wars were to Phormio. Your majesty may justly say unto me, that I being a poor simple man (brought up a great while in a rude country) do greatly presume to describe, how so puissant a prince as your highness ought to govern himself and his realm. For of truth the more ignorant a man is of the troubles and alterations of the world, the better he shallbe counted in the sight of God. The estate of princes is to have great trains about them, & the estate of religious men, is to be solitary: for the servant of God ought to be always void from vain thoughts, & to be ever accompanied with holy meditations. The estate of princes is always unquiet: but the state of the religious is to be enclosed. For otherwise, he above all others may be called an Apostata, that hath his body in the sell, and his heart in the market place. To princes it is necessary to speak & common with all men: but for the religious it is not decente to be conversant with the world. For solitary men (if they do as they ought) should occupy their hands in travail, their body in fasting, their tongue in prayer, & their heart in contemplation. The estate of princes for the most part is employed to war: but the state of the religious is to desire & procure peace. For if the prince would study to pass his bounds, and by battle to shed the blood of his enemies: the religious aught to shed tears, & pray to God for his sins. O that it pleased almighty God, as I know what my bound duty is in my heart, so that he would give me grace to accomplish the same in my deeds. Alas, when I ponder with myself the weightiness of my matter, my pen through sloth and negligence is ready to fall out of my hand, & I half minded to leave of mine enterprise. My intent is to speak against myself in this case. For albeit men may know th'affairs of princes by experience: yet they shall not know how to speak nor write them but by science. Those which ought to counsel princes, those which ought to reform the life of princes & that aught to instruct them, aught to have a clear judgement, an upright mind, their words advisedly considered, their doctrine wholesome, & their life without suspicion. For who so will speak of high things, having no experence of them: is like unto a blind man that would lead & teach him the way, which seeth better than he himself. This is the sentence of Xenophon the great which saith. There is nothing harder in this life than to know a wise man. And the reason which he gave was this. That a wise man cannot be known but by an other wise man, we may gather by this which Xenophon saith: that as one wise man cannot be known but by an other wise man: so likewise it is requisite that he should be, or have been a prince, which should write of the life of a prince. For he that hath been a mariner, & sailed but one year on the sea: shall be able to give better counsel and advise, than he that hath dwelled ten years in the haven. Xenophon wrote a book touching the institution of princes, & bringeth in Cambyses the king, how he taught, and spoke unto king Cirus his son. And he wrote an other book likewise of the art of chivalry, and brought in king Philip, how he ought to teach his son Alexander to fight. For the philosopher's thought that writing of no authority, that was not entitled & set forth under the name of those princes, which had experience of that they wrote. O if an aged prince would with his pen (if not with word of mouth) declare, what misfortunes have happened sins the first time he began to reign, how disobedient his subjects have been unto him, what grief his servants have wrought against him, what unkindness his friends have showed him, what subtle wiles his enemies have used towards him, what danger his person hath escaped, what tarres have been in his palace, what faults they have said against him, how many times they have deceived strangers, finally what griefs he hath had by day, & what sorrowful sighs he hath fetched in the night: truly I think (& in my thought I am nothing deceived) that if a prince would declare unto us his hole life, & that he would particularly show us every thing, we would both wonder at that body which had so much suffered: & also we would be offended with that heart that had so greatly dissembled. It is a troublesome thing a dangerous thing, & an insolent and proud enterprise, for a man to take upon him with a pen to govern the common wealth, & with a prince to reason of his life. For in deed men are not persuaded to live well by fair words, but by virtuous deeds And therefore not with out cause I say that he is not wise, but very arrogant, that dare presume unasked to give a prince counsel. For princes in many things have their minds occupied, & haughtely bend, & some of them also are affectioned, & where as we (peradventure) think to have them merciful, we find them more angry & heavy against us. For counsel doth more harm than profit, if the giver thereof be not very wise, & he also which receiveth it very patient. I have not been a prince to know the travails of princes, nor am not as precedent to counsel princes: yet I was so bold to compile this book, it was not upon presumption to counsel a prince, so much as by an humble sort to give mine advise.  
For to give counsel, I confess I have no credit: but to give them advise, it sufficeth me to be a subject. What the order is that I have taken in this book, how profitable it is to all men, & how unpleasant to no man, how wholesome & profound doctrine in it is contained, & how the histories be herein applied; I will not that my pen do write, but they themselves shall judge which shall read this work. We see it oft come to pass that divers books do lose their estimation, not for that they are not very good & excellent: but because the author hath been to presumptuous & vainglorious. For in my opinion, for a man to praise his own writings much, is nothing else but to give men occasion to speak evil both of him & of his work. Let no man think that I have written this which is written, without great advisement and examination. I do confess before the redeemer of the whole world, that I have consumed so many years to seek what I should write, that this ii years one day hath scarcely escaped me, wherein my pen hath not done his duty to write or correct in this work. I confess that I took great pain in writing it, for of truth it hath been written twice with mine own hand, and thrice with another man's hand. I confess I have red & searched in divers & sundry parts, many and good strange books, to th'end I might find good and pleasant doctrine, & besides that I travailed much to set & apply the histories to the purpose. For it is an unseemly thing to apply an history without a purpose. I had great respect in that I was not so brief in my writings, that a man might note me to be obscure: nor yet in any thing so long, that a man should slander me with to much talk. For all the excellency of writing consisteth, where many & goodly sentences are declared in few & apt words: For oft times the long style is loathsome & tedious both to the hearers & readers. Nero that emperor was in love with a lady in Rome named Pompeia, that which in beauty (to his fantasy) exceeded all other. In the end partly with entreaty, partly with money & presents, he obtained of her the he desired. For in this case of love, where prayers & importunities be patiently hard, & resistance doth lack: The inordinate love that Nero bore to Pompeia, proceeded of the yellow here's she had, which were of the colour of amber, & in praise of them he compiled divers & sundry songs in heroical metre, & with an instrument sang them himself in her presence. Nero was a sage prince, wise, & excellently well learned in the latin tongue, & also a good musician: yet plutarch in his book of the gests of noble women (to declare the vaniti & lightness of Nero) reciteth this history: & describing Pompeia said, the her body was small, her fingers long, her mouth proper, her eye lids thin her nose somewhat sharp, her teeth small, her lips red, her neck white, her forehead broad, & finally, her eyes great & rowlin, her breast large & well propocioned, what think you would Nero have done if he had so affectionately set his fantasy upon all other her beautiful properties, sins that for the love alonely of her yellow locks, he was deprived both of his wisdom, & also senses. For vain & light men love commonly not that which reason commandeth: but that which their appetite desireth. The love of the emperor increased with folly so much, that not only he counted severally all that héeres that his lover Pompeia had on her head, but also gave to every here a proper name, & in praise of every one of them made a song, in somuch that this effeminate prince spent more time in banqueting & playing with his lover Pompeia: than he did to reform & amend the faults of the common wealth. Yea his folly so much surmounted all reason, that he commanded a comb of gold to be made, & therewith he himself comed her yellow locks. And if it chanced that any one here in keming fell of, he by & by caused it to be set in gold, offered it up in the temple to the gods juno. For it was an ancient custom among the Romans, that the things which they entirely loved (whether it were good or evil) should be offered up to their gods. And when it was once known that Nero was so in love with these héeres of Pompeia, which were of the colour of amber, all the ladies endeavoured themselves, not only to make artificially their here of that colour: but also to were their garments, and other attires of the same colour, in so much that both men and women did use collars of amber, brooches & rings set with amber, & all their other jewels were of amber. For always it hath been seen, & ever shallbe, that those things whereunto the prince is most addicted, the people follow, & above all other covet the same. Before this Emperor Nero played this light part in Rome, the amber stone was had in little estimation, & after that he set so much by it, there was no precious stone in Rome so much esteemed. Yea & furthermore the merchant gained nothing so much (whether it were in gold or silk) as he did in the amber stones, nor brought any kind of merchandise to Rome more precious, or more vendible than that was. I do meruelle at this vanity, forasmuch as the children of the world do love, desire, & labour more to follow the strange folly of an other: than to furnish & supply their own proper necessity. Therefore returning again to my purpose (most excellent prince) by this example you may conjecture, what I would say, that is, that if this writing were accepted unto princes, I am assured it would be refused of no man: And if any man would slanderously talk of it, he durst not, remembering that your majesty hath received it. For those things which princes take to their custody, we are bound to defend, & it is not lawful for us to diminish their credit. Suppose that this my work were not so profound as it might be of this matter, nor with such eloquence set out as many other books are: yet I dare be bold to say, that the prince shall take more profit by reading of this work, than Nero did by his love Pompeia. For in the end, by reading and studying good books, men turn, & become sage and wise: and by keeping ill company, they are counted fools & vicious. My meaning is not, nor I am not so importunate and unreasonable, to persuade princes that they should so favour my doctrine, the it should be in like estimation now in these parts, as the amber was there in Rome. But that which only I require & demand is, that the time which Nero spent in singing & telling the héeres of his love Pompeia, should now be employed to redress the wrongs & faults of the common wealth. For the noble & worthy prince ought to employ the least part of the day in the recreation of his person. After he hath given audience to his counsellors, to the ambassadors, to the great Lords & prelate's, to the rich and poor, to his own country men and strangers, & after that he be come into his privy chamber, than my desire is that he would read this treatise, or some other better than this: for in princes chambers oftentimes those of the privy chamber and other their familiares lose great time, in reciting vain and trifling matters and of small profit, the which might better be spent in reading some good book. In all worldly affairs that we do, & in all our books which we compile, it is a great matter to be fortunate. For to a man that fortune doth not favour, diligence (without doubt) can little avail. Admit that fortune were against me, in that this my work should be acceptable unto your majesty, without comparison it should be a great grief & dishonour unto me, to tell you what should be good to read for your pastime, if on tother part you would not profit by mine advise. For my mind was not only to make this book, to the end princes should read it for a pastime, but to that end (in recreating themselves) sometimes they mought thereby also take profit. Aulus Gellius, in the. 12. chapter of his third book entitled De nocte attica, said that amongs all the scholars which the divine Plato had, one was named Demosthenes, a man amongst the Greeks moste highly esteemed & of the Romans greatly desired. Because he was in his living severe, and in his tongue and doctrine a very satire. If Demosthenes had come in the time of Phalaris the tyrant, when Grecia was peopled with tyrants, and that he had not been in Plato's time, when it was replenished with Philosophers, truly Demosthenes had been as clear a lantern in Asia, as Cicero the great was in Europe. Great good hap hath a notable man to be borne in one age, more than in any other. I mean, that if a valiant Knight come in the time of a courageous and stout prince, such one truly shallbe esteemed and set in great authority. But if he come in the time of an other effeminate and covetous prince, he shall not be regarded at al. For he will rather esteem one that will augment his treasure at home: than him that can vanquish his enemies in battle abroad. So likewise it chanceth to wise and virtuous men, which if they come in the time of virtuous and learned princes, are esteemed and honoured: But if they come in time of vain and vicious princes, they make small account of them. For it is an ancient custom among vanities children, not to honour him which to the common wealth is most profitable: but him which to the prince is most acceptable. The end why this is spoken (Most pusant Prince) is because the two renowned philosophers were in Grece both at one time: and because the divine philosopher Plato was so much esteemed and made of, they did not greatly esteem the philosopher Demosthenes. For the eminent and high renown of one alone, diminisheth the fame & estimation (among the people) of many. Although Demosthenes was such a one in deed as we have said, that is to wit, eloquent of tongue, ready of memory, sharp and quick of wit, in living severe, sure and profitable in giving of counsel, in renown excellent, in years very ancient, and in philosophy a man right well learned: Yet he refused not to go to the schools of Plato to hear moral philosophy. He that shall read this thing or hear it, ought not to marvel, but to follow it, and to profit likewise in the same: that is to understand, that one philosopher learned of an other, and one wise man suffered himself to be taught of an other. For knowledge is of such a quality, that the more a man knoweth, daily there increaseth in him a desire to know more. All things of this life (after they have been tasted and possessed) cloyeth a man, wearieth and troubleth him, true science only excepted, which never doth cloy, weary, nor trouble them. And if it happen we weary any, it is but the eyes which are wearied with looking and reading: and not the spirit with feeling and tasting. Many Lords and my familiar friends do ask me how it is possible I should live with so much study? And I also demand of them, how it is possible they should live in such continual idleness? For considering the provocation and assaults of the flesh, the dangers of the world, the temptations of the devil, the treasons of enemies, & importunities of friends: what heart can suffer so great and continual travail, but only in reading & comforting himself in books? Truly a man ought to have more compassion of a simple ignorant man, than of a poor man. For there is no greater poverty unto a man, than to lack wisdom whereby he should know how to govern himself. Therefore following our matter the case was such, one day Demosthenes (going to the school of Plato) saw in the market place of Athens a great assembly of people, which were hearing a philosopher newly come unto that place: & he spoke not this without a cause, that there was a great company of people assembled. For that naturally the common people are desirous to hear new and strange things. Demosthenes asked what philosopher he was after whom so many people went? and when it was answered him that it was Calistratus the philosopher, a man which in eloquence was very sweet and pleasant: he determined to stay and hear him, to th'end he would know whither it were true or vain that the people told him. For oftentimes it happeneth, that among the people some get themselves great fame, more by favour, than by good learning. The difference betwixt the divine Philosopher Plato, and Calistratus was, in that Plato was exceedingly well learned, and the other very eloquent: and thus it came to pass, that in living they followed Plato: and in eloquence of speech they did imitate Callistratus. For there are divers men sufficiently well learned, which have profound doctrine, but they have no way nor means to teach it others. Demosthenes' hearing Calistratus but ones, was so far in love with his doctrine, that he never after heard Plato, nor entered into his school, for to hearken to any of his lectures. At which news divers of the sages of Grecia marveled much, seeing that the tongue of a man was of such power, that it had put all their doctrine to silence. Although I apply not this example, I doubt not but your majesty understandeth to what end I have declared it. And moreover I say, that although Princes have in their chambers books so well corrected, and men in their courts so well learned, that they may worthily keep th'estimation which Plato had in his school: yet in this case it should not displease me, that the difference that was between Plato and Calistratus, should be between Princes and this book. God forbid, that by this saying men should think I mean to dissuade Princes from the company of the sage men, or from reading of any other book but this: for in so doing, Plato should be rejected which was divine: and Calistratus embraced which was more worldly. But my desire is, that sometime they would use to read this book a little, for it may chance they shall find some wholesome counsel therein, which at one time or other may profit them in their affairs. For the good & careful Princes ought to graff in their memory the wise sayings which they read, & forget the canekred injuries & wrongs which are done them. I do not speak it without a cause, that he that readeth this my writing shall find in it some profitable counsel. For all that which hath been written in it, hath been in every word & sentence with great diligence so well weighed, and corrected, as if therein only consisted, the effect of the whole work. The greatest grief that learned men feel in their writing is, to think, that if there be many that view their doings, to take profit thereby: they shall perceive that there are as many more, which occupy their tongues in the slander and dispraise thereof. In publishing this my work, I have observed the manner of them that plant a new garden, wherein they set Roses which give a pleasant savour to the nose, they make fair green plats to delight the eyes, they graft fruitful trees to be gathered with the hands, but in the end as I am a man, so have I written it for men, and consequently as a man I may have erred: for there is not at this day so perfect a painter, but another will presume to amend his work. Those which diligently will endeavour themselves to read this book, shall find in it very profitable counsels, very lively laws, good reasons, notable sayings, sentences very profound, worthy examples, & histories very ancient. For to say the truth, I had a respect in that the doctrine was ancient, & the style new. And albeit your majesty be the greatest Prince of all Princes, and I the least of all your subjects, you ought not for my base condition to disdain to cast your eyes upon this book, nor to think scorn to put that thing in proof which seemeth good. For a good letter ought to be nothing the less esteemed, although it be written with an evil pen. I have said, and will say, that Princes and great Lords, the stouter, the richer, and the greater of renown they be, the greater need they have of all men of good knowledge about them, to counsel them in their affairs, and of good books which they may read: and this they ought to do aswell in prosperity as in adversity, to the end that their affairs in time convenient, may be debated and redressed. For otherwise, they should have time to repent, but no leisure to amend. Pliny, Marcus Varro, Strabo, and Macrobius, (which were historiographers no less grave than true) were at great controversy, in proving what things were most authentic in a common weal, and at what time they were of all men accepted. Seneca in a pistle he wrote to Lucillus, praised without cessing the common wealth of the Rhodiens, in the which (with much a do) they bent themselves altogether to keep one self thing, and after they had thereupon agreed, they kept and maintained it inviolately. The divine Plato in the sixth book entitled De legibus, ordained and commanded that if any citizen did invent any new thing, which never before was read, nor hard of, the inventor thereof should first practise the same for the space of .10. years in his own house, before it was brought into the common wealth, and before it should be published unto the people, to th'end if the invention were good, it should be profitable unto him: and if it were nought, that than the danger and hurt thereof should light only on him. plutarch in his Apothemes saith, that Lycurgus upon grievous penalties did prohibit, that none should be so hardy in his common wealth to go wandering into strange countries, nor that he should be so hardy to admit any strangers to come into his house: and the cause why this law was made, was to th'end strangers should not bring into their houses things strange, and not accustomed in their common wealth, and that they travailing through strange countries, should not learn new customs. The presumption of men now a days is so great, and the consideration of the people so small, that what so ever a man can speak he speaketh, what so ever he can invent he doth invent, what he would he doth write, and it is no marvel, for there is no man that will speak against them. Nor the common people in this case are so light, that amongs them you may daily see new devices, and whether it hurt or profit the common wealth they force not. If there came at this day a vain man amongs the people which was never seen nor heard of before, if he be any thing subtle, I ask you but this question: shall it not be easy for him to speak and invent what he listeth, to set forth what he pleaseth, to persuade that which to him seemeth good, and all his sayings to be believed? Truly it is a wonderful thing, and no less slanderous, that one should be sufficient to pervert the senses and judgements of all, and all not able to repress the lightness and vanity of one. Things that are new and not accustomed, neither princes ought to allow, nor yet the people to use. For a new thing ought no less to be examined and considered, before it be brought into the common wealth: than the great doubts which arise in men's minds. Rufinus in the prologue of his second book of his apology reproveth greatly the Egyptians because they were to full of devices, and blamed much the Grecians because they were to curious in speaking fine words: & above all other he greatly praiseth the Romans, for that they were very hard of belief, & that they scarcely always credited the sayings of the Greeks, and because they were discrete in admitting the inventions of the Egyptians. The author hath reason to praise th'one, and dispraise tother. For it proceedeth of a light judgement, to credit all the things that a man heareth, and to do all things that he seeth. returning therefore now to our matter. Marcus Varro said there were .5. things in the world very hard to bring in, whereof none (after they were commonly accepted) were ever lost or forgotten, for even as things vainly begun, are easily left of: so things with great fear accepted, with much diligence are observed.  
The first thing that chief throughout all the world was accepted, was all men to live togethers: that is to say, they should make places, towns, villages, cities & common wealths. For according to the saying of Plato, the first & best inventors of the common wealth, were the ants, which (according to th'experience we see) do live togethers, travail togethers, do go togethers, & also for the winter they make provision togethers, & furthermore none of these ants do give themselves to any private thing, but all theirs is brought into their common wealth. It is a marvelous thing to behold the common wealth of the ants, how netely they trim their hills, to behold how they sweep away the grain when it is wet, and how they dry it when they feel any moisture, to behold how they come from their work, and how the one doth not hurt the other: And to behold also how they do rejoice the one in the others travail, and that which is to our greatest confusion is, that if it come so to pass, 50000. ants will live in a little hillock togethers: and two men only cannot live in peace and concord in a common wealth. Would to God the wisdom of men were so great to keep themselves, as the prudence of the ants is to live. When the world came to a certain age, & men's wits waxed more fine, than tyrants sprang up which oppressed the poor, thieves that rob the rich, rebels that rob the quiet, murderers that slew the patient, the idle that eat the sweet of other men's brows: all the which things considered by them which were virtuous, they agreed to assemble & live together, that thereby they might preserve the good, and withstand the wicked. Macrobius affirmeth this in the second book of Scipions dream saying, that covetousness and avarice was the greatest cause why men invented the common wealth. Pliny in the seventh book .56. chap. saith, the first that made small assembles, were the athenians: and the first that built great cities, were the Egyptians.  
The second thing that was accepted throughout all the world, were the letters which we read, whereby we take profit in writing. according whereunto Marcus Varro saith, the Egyptians praise themselves and say, that they did invent them: and the Assyrians affirm the contrary, and swear that they were showed first of all amongst them. Pliny in the seventh book saith, that in the first age, there was in the alphabet no more than 16. letters, & that great Palamedes at the siege of Troy, added other .4. and Aristotle saith, that immediately after the beginning there were found .18. letters. And that afterwards Palamedes did add but .2. and so there were 20. and that the Philosopher Epicarmus did add other two, which were .22. it is no great matter, whether the Egyptians or the Assyrians first found the letters. But I say and affirm, that it was a thing necessary for a common wealth, and also for th'increase of man knowledge. For if we had wanted letters, and writings, we could have had no knowledge of the time past, nor yet our posterity could have been advertised what was done in our days. plutarch in the second book entitled De viris illustribus, and Pliny in the seventh book and .56. chapter, do greatly praise Pirotas, because he first found the fire in a flint stone. They greatly commended Protheus, because he invented harness, and they highly extolled Panthasuca, because she invented the hatchet. They praised Citheus, because he invented the bow, and the arrows. they greatly praised Pheniseus, because he invented the cross bow and the sling. They highly praised the Lacedæmonians, because they invented the helmet, the spear, and the sword. They commend those of Thessalia, because they invented the combat on horseback, and they commend those of Africa, because they invented the fight by sea. But I do praise, and continually will magnify, not those which found the art of fighting, and invented weapons to procure war, for to kill his neighbour: but those which found letters, for to learn science, & to make peace between two princes. What difference there is to wet the pen with ink, and to paint the spear with blood: to be environed with books, or to be laden with weapons. To study how every man ought to live, or else to go privily and rob in the wars, & to lie in weight to kill his neighbour: There is none of so vain a judgement, but will praise more the speculation of the sciences, than the practice of the war. Because that in the end, he that learneth sciences, learneth nought else but how he and others ought to live. And he that learneth warlike feats, learneth none other thing than how to slay his neighbour, and to destroy others.  
The third thing, that equally of all was accepted, were laws. For admit that all men now lived togethesr in common, if they would not be subject one to another, there would contention arise amongst them, for that according to the saying of Plato, there is no greater token of the destruction of a common weal, than when many rulers are chosen therein. Pliny in his seventh book .56. chapter saith, that a Queen called Ceres, was the first that taught them to sow in the fields, to grind in mills, to passed and bake in ovens, and also she was the first that taught the people to live according to the law. And by the means of all these things our forefathers called her a goddess. Since that time we never have seen heard nor red of any realm, or other nation (aswell strange as barbarous) what so ever they were, but have had laws whereby the good were favoured, and also institutions of grievous pains wherewith the wicked were punished. Although truly I had rather, and it were better, that the good should love reason: than fear the law. I speak of those which leave to do evil works, for fear only of falling into the punishments appointed for evil doers. For although men approve that which they do, yet God condemneth that which they desire. Seneca in an epistle he wrote to his friend Lucille, said these words. Thou writest unto me Lucille, that those of the isle of Scicili, have carried a great quantity of corn into Spain, and into Africa, the which thing was forbidden by a Roman law, and therefore they have deserved grievous punishment. Now because thou art virtuous, thou mayst teach me to do well, and I that am old will teach the to say, well: & this is because that amongst wise and virtuous men it is enough to say, that the law commandeth, appointeth, and suffereth this thing, but in as much as it is agreeing with reason. For the crown of the good, is reason, and the scourge of the wicked, is the law.  
The fourth thing that commonly through the world amongst all men was accepted, was the barbers. And let no man take this thing in mockery. For if they do read Pliny in the .59. chapter the seventh book, they shall find for a truth, that the Romans were in Rome .454. years without pouling or shaving the hairs of the beard of any man. Marcus Varro said, that Publius Ticinius, was the first that brought the barbers from Scicili to Rome. But admit it were so or otherwise: yet notwithstanding there was a great contention among the Romans. For they said, they thought it a rash thing for a man to commit his life to the courtesy of another. Dionysius the Syracusan never trusted his beard with any barber, but when his daughters were very little, they clipped his beard with sisers: but after they became great, he would not put his trust in them to trim his beard, but he himself did burn it with the shells of nuts. This Dionysius Syracusan, was demanded why he would not trust any barber's with his beard. He answered, because I know that there be some which will give more to the barber to take away my life, than I will give to trim my beard. Pliny in the seventh book saith, that the great Scipio called African, and the Emperor Augustus, were the first that caused them in Rome to shave their beards. And I think th'end why Pliny spoke these things, was to exalt these two princes which had as great courage to suffer the raysours touch their throats: as th'one for to fight against Hannibal in Africa, and tother against Sextus Pompeius in Scicili.  
The fift thing which commonly through the world was accepted, were the dials and clocks, which the Romans wanted a long tyme. For as Pliny and Marcus Varro say, the Romans were without clocks in Rome, for the space of .595. years. The curious historiographers declare three manner of dials that were in old time that is to say, dials of the hours, dials of the son, and dials of the water. The dialle of the son Aneximenides Millesius invented, who was great Animandras scholar The dialle of the water. Scipio Nasica invented, and the Dial of hours, one of the scholars of Thales the Philosopher invented Of all these antiquities which were brought into Rome, none of them were so acceptable to the Romans, as the dials were, whereby they measured the day by the hour. For before they could not say, we will rise at vii of the clock, we will dine at ten we will see one tother at xii at i we will do that we ought to do. But before they said, after the son is up we will do such a thing, and before it go down we will do that we ought to do. Thoccasion of declaring unto you these .v. antiquities in this preamble, was to no other intent, but to call my book the Dial of Princes. The name of the book veing new (as it is) may make the learning that is therein greatly to be esteemed.  
God forbid that I should be so bold to say, they have been so long time in Spain without dials of learning, as they were in Rome without the dial of the son, the water, and of the hours. For that in Spain have been always men well learned in sciences, and very expert in the wars. By great reason and of greater occasion, the Princes ought to be commended, the knights, the people, their wits, and the fertility of their country: but yet to all these goodness, I have seen many unlearned books in spain, which as broken dials deserve to be cast into the fire to be forged anew. I do not speak it without a cause, that many books deserve to be broken and burnt. For there are so many that without shame and honesty do set forth books of love of the world, at this day as boldly, as if they taught them to despise and speak evil of the world. It is pity to see how many days and nights be consumed, in reading vain books (that is to say) as Orson and Valentine, the Court of Venus, & the four sons of Amon, and diverse other vain books, by whose doctrine I dare boldly say, they pass not the time but in perdition: for they learn not how they ought to fly vice, but rather what way they may with more pleasure embrace it. This dial of princes is not of sand, nor of the son, nor of the hours, nor of the water, but it is the dial of life. For that other dials serve to know, what hour it is in the night, and what hour it is of the day: but this showeth and teacheth us, how we ought to occupy our minds, and how to order our life. The property of other dyalles is, to order things public: but the nature of this dial of princes is, to teach us how to occupy ourselves every hour, and how to amend our life every moment. It little availeth to keep the dyalles well, and to see thy subjects dissolutely without any order, to range in routs, and daily raise debate and contention among themselves.   

In this Prologue, the Author speaketh particularly of the book, called Marcus Aurelius, which he translated and dedicated to the Emperor Charles the fift.  
THe greatest vanity that I find in the world is, that vain men are not only content to be vain in their life: but also procure to leave a memory of their vanity after their death. For it is so thought good unto vain and light men, which serve the world in vain works: that at the hour of death, when they perceive they can do no more, & that they can no longer prevail, they offer themselves unto death, which now they see approach upon them Many of the world are so fleshed in the world, that although it forsaketh them in deeds: yet they will not forsake it in their desires. And I durst swear, that if the world could grant them perpetual life they would promise it always to remain in their customable folly. O what a number of vain men are alive, which have neither remembrance of god to serve him, nor of his glory to obey him, nor of their conscience to make it clean: but like brute beasts follow and run after their voluptuous pleasures The brute beast is angry if a man keep him to much in awe: if he be weary he taketh his rest, he sleepeth when he lysteth, he eateth and drinketh when he cometh unto it, and unless he be compelled he doth nothing, he taketh no care for the common wealth, for he neither knoweth how to follow reason, nor yet how to resist sensuality. Therefore if a man at all times should eat when he desireth, revenge himself when he is moved, commit adultery when he is tempted, drink when he is thirsty, and sleep when he is drousey, we might more properly call such a one a beast nourished in the mountains: than a man brought up in the common wealth. For him properly we may call a man, that governeth himself like a man, that is to say, conformable unto such things as reason willeth, and not where sensuality leadeth. Let us leave these vain men which are alive, and talk of them that be dead, against whom we dare say, that whiles they were in the world they followed the world, & lived according to the same. It is not to be marveled at that sins they were living in the world, they were noted of some worldly point. But seeing their unhappy and wicked life is ended: why will they then smell of the vanities of the world in their graves? It is a great shame and dishonour for men of noble & stout hearts, to see in one minute th'end of our life, and never to see the end of our folly. We neither read, hear, nor see any thing more common, than such men as be most unprofitable in the common wealth, and of life most reprobate, to take upon them most honour whiles they live, and to leave behind them the greatest memory at their death. What vanity can be greater in the world, then to esteem the world which esteemeth no man, and to make no count of god who so greatly regardeth all men? what a greater folly can there be in man, then by much travail to increase his goods, and with vain pleasures to lose his soul? It is an old plague in man's nature, that many (or the most part of men) leave the amendment of their life far behind: to set their honour the more before. Suetonius Tranquillus in the first book of the Emperors saith, that julius Cesar (no further then in Spain, in the City of Cales now called Calis) saw in the temple the triumphs of Alexander the great painted, the which when he had well viewed, he sighed marvelous sore, and being asked why he did so, he answered: What a woeful case am I in, that am now of th'age of .30. years, and Alexander at the same years had subdued the whole world, and rested him in Babylon. And I (being as I am) a Roman, never did yet thing worthy of praise in my life, nor shall leave any renown of me after my death. Dion the Grecian in the second book de Audacia saith, that the noble Drusius, the Almaigne, used to visit the graves and tombs of the famous and renowned which were buried in Italy, and did this always, especially at his going to warfare, and it was asked him why he did so, he answered. I visit the sepulchres of Scipio, and of divers others which are dead, before whom all the earth trembled when they were alive: For in beholding their prosperous success, I did recover both strength, and stoutness. He saith furthermore, that it encourageth a man to fight against his enemies, remembering he shall leave of him a memory in time to come. Cicero saith in his rhetoric, and also Plynie maketh mention of the same in an epistle: that there came from Thebes (in Egypt) a knight to Rome, for no other purpose, but only to see whether it were true or no, that was reported of the notable things of Rome. Whom Maecenas demanded, what he perceived of the Romans, and what he thought of Rome. He answered: the memory of the absent doth more content me, than the glory of the present doth satisfy me. And the reason of this is. The desire which men have to extol the living, and to be equal unto the dead: maketh things so strange in their life, that they deserve immortal fame after their death. The Romans rejoiced not a little, to hear such words of a strangers mouth, whereby he praised them which were departed, and exalted them that yet lived. O what a thing it is to consider the ancient heathens, which neither feared hell not hoped for heaven, & yet by remembrance of weakness, they took unto them strength▪ by cowardness, they were boldened: through fear, they became hardy: of dangers they took encouragement: of enemies they made friends: of poverty they took patience: of malice they learned experience: finally I say, they denied their own wills, & followed th'opinions of others, only to leave behind them a memory with the dead, and to have a little honour with the living O how many are they that trust the unconstauntnes of fortune, only to leave some notable memory behind them. Let us call to mind some worthy examples, whereby they may see that to be true, which I have spoken. What made king Ninus to invent such wars? Queen Semiramis to make such buildings? Ulysses the Grecian to sulk so many seas? king Alexander to conquer so many lands? Hercules the Theban to set up his pillars where he did? Caius Cesar the Roman to give .52. battles at his pleasure? Cirus king of Persia to overcome both the Asia's? Hannibal the Carthagian, to make so cruel wars against the Romans? Pyrrhus' king of Epirotes to come down into Italy? Atila king of the Huns to defy all Europe? truly they would not have taken upon them such dangerous enterprises, only upon the words of them which were in those days present: but because we should so esteem them that should come after. Seeing then that we be men, and the children of men, it is not a little to be marveled at, to see the diversity between the one and the other, and what cowardness there is in the hearts of some, and contrariwise what courage in the stomachs of others. For we see commonly now a days, that if there be, 10. of stout courages, which are desirous with honour to die: there are 10. thousand cowards, which through shameful pleasures seek to prolong their life. The man that is ambitious, thinketh him most happy, who with much estimation can keep his renown, and with little care regard his life. And on the other side, he that will set by his life, shall have but in small estimation his renown. The Syrians, the Assyrians, the Thebans, the Caldes, the Greeks, the Macedonians, the Rodians, the Romans, the Huns, the Germans, and the Frenchmen, if such noble men (as among these were most famous) had not adventured their lives by such dangerous enterprises, they had never got such immortal fame as they had done to leave to their prosperity. Sextus Cheronensis in his third book of the valiant deeds of the Romans saith, that the famous captain Marcus Marcellus (which was the first of all men that saw the back of Hannibal in the field) was demanded of one how he durst enter into battle, with such a renowned captain as Hannibal was? to whom he answered: friend, I am a Roman borne, & a captain of Rome, and I must daily put my life in hazard for my country's sake, for so I shall make perpetual my renown. He was demanded again why he struck his enemies with such fierceness, & why he did so pitifully lament those which were overcome, after the victory gotten in battle? he answered: the captain which is a Roman, and is not judged to be a tyrant, aught with his own hand to shed the blood of his enemies, and also to shed the tears of his eyes. A captain Roman ought more to advance him of his clemency, then of his bloody victory. And Marcus Marcellus saith further, when a Roman captain shall be in the field, he hath an eye to his enemies with hope to vanquish them, but afterl they be vanquished, he ought to remember they are men, and that he might have been overcome. For fortune showeth herself in nothing so common, as in the successes of war. Certes these were words well beseeming such a man, and surely we may boldly say, that all those which shall hear or read such things, will commend the words which that Roman spoke: but few are they that in deed would have done the feats that he did. For there be many that are ready to praise in their words that which is good: but there are few that in their works desire to follow the same. Such hearts are unquiet, & much altered by sight and envy that they bore towards their ancients which through manfulness atayned unto great triumphs, and glory) let them remember, what dangers and travails they passed through, before they came thereto. For there was never Captain that ever triumphed in Rome, unless he had first adventured his life a thousand times in the field I think I am not deceived, in this that I will say. That is to weet, all are desirous to taste of the mary of fame present: but none will break the bone for fear of peril ensuing If honour could be bought with desire only, I dare boldly say, it would be more esteemed in these days of the poor page: than it was in times passed of the valiant Roman Scipio. For there is not at this day so poor a man, but would desire honour above all things. What a doleful case is this to see, many gentlemen and young knights, become evil disposed vagabonds, and loiterers: the which hearing tell of any famous battle fought, and that many of their estate and profession have done valiant feats in the same: immediately therewith be stirred and set on fire through envies heat, so that in the same fury, they change their robes into armour: and with all speed prepare themselves to war, to exercise the feats of arms. And finally (like young men without experience) make importunate suit, and obtain licence, and money of their friends to go unto the wars. But after they are on's out of their country, and see themselves in a strange place, their days evil, and their nights worse, at one time they are commanded to skirmish, and at an other time to watch, when they have victuals, they want lodging, & when the pay day cometh, that pay & the next also is eaten and spent. With these & other like troubles & discommodities, the poor young men are so astonied: especially when they call to mind the goodly wide hauls, so well hanged & trimmed wherein they greatly delighted to pass the time in summer season. When they remember their great chimneys at home, whereby they comforted their old limbs, and how they used to sit quietly upon the sonny banks in winter. For the remembrauncr of the pleasure past, greatly augmenteth the pains present. Notwithstanding their parents and friends, had admonished them hereof before: And now being beaten with their own folly, & feeling these discommodities which they thought not of before: they determine to forsake the wars, & each one to return home to his own again. But where as they asked licence but on's to go forth, now they were enforced to ask it .10. times before they could come home. And the worst is, they went forth laden with money, and return home laden with vices. But the end why these things are spoken is, that sage and virtuous men should mark, by what trade the evil disposed seek to gain: which is not gotten by gazing at the windows, but by keeping the frountiers against their enemies: not with playing at tables in the taverns, but with fighting in the fields: not trimmed with cloth of gold or silks, but laden with armour & weapons: not praunsing their palfreys, but discovering the ambushmentes: not sleeping until none, but watching all night: not by advancing him of his apparel and handsomeness, but for his stout courageousness: not banqueting his friends, but assaulting his enemies: though a knight do these things, yet he ought to consider that it is vanity and foolishness. But seeing the world hath placed honour in such a vain thing, & that they can attain unto it by none other way, the young adventurous gentlemen ought to employ thereunto their strength, with stout courage, to achieve to some great acts worthy of renown For in the end when the war is justly begun, and that in defence of their country: they ought to rejoice more of him that dieth in the hands of his enemies: them of him which liveth accompanied with vices. It is a great shame and dishonour to men of arms, & young gentlemen being at home, to hear the praise of them which be in the wars, for the young gentlemen ought not to think it honour for him to hear or declare the news of others? but that others should declare the virtuous deeds of him. O how many are they in the world this day puffed up with pride, & not very wise) which still prate of great renown, & yet pass their life with small honesty. For our predecessors fought in the field with their lances, but young men now a days fight at the table with their tongues. Admit that all vain men desire, & procure to leave a memory of their vanity: yet they ought to enterprise such things in their life, whereby they might win a famous renown (& not a perpetual shame) after their death. For there are many departed, which have left such memory of their works as moveth us rather to pity their folly, than to envy their virtue. I ask those that read or hear this thing, if they will be in love with Nembroth the first tyrant: with Semiramis, which sinned with her own son: with Antenor, that betrayed Troy his country: with Medea, that slew her children: with Tarquin that enforced Lucretia: with Brutus, that slew Cesar: with Silla, that shed so much blood: with Catilina, that played the tyrant in his country: with jugurtha, that strangled his brethren: with Caligula that committed incest with his sisters: with Nero that killed his mother: with Heliogabalus that rob the temples: with Domitian, that in nothing delighted so much, as by strange hands to put men to death, and to drive away flies with his own hands Small is the number of those that I have spoken, in respect of those which I could recite: of whom I dare say & affirm, that if I had been as they, I cannot tell what I would have done, or what I should have desired: but this I know, it would have been more pains to me, to have won the infamy that they have won, then to have lost the life that they have lost, It profiteth him little, to have his ponds full of fish, & his parks full of dear, which knoweth neither how to hunt, nor how to fish. I mean to show by this, that it profiteth a man little to be in great authority, if he be not esteemed, nor honoured in the same. For to attain to honour, wisdom is requisite: & to keep it, patience is necessary. With great considerations wise men ought to enterprise dangerous things. For I assure them they shall never win honour, but where they use to recover slander. Returning therefore to our matter (Puissant prince) I swear & durst undertake, that you rather desire perpetual renown through death: then any idle rest in this life. And hereof I do not marvel, for there are some that shall always declare the prowesses of good princes, & others which will not spare to open the vices of evil tyrants. For although your imperial estate is much, & your catholic person deserveth more, yet I believe with my heart, & see with these eyes, that your thoughts are so highly bend unto adventurous deeds, & your heart so courageous to set upon them, that your majesty little esteemeth the inheritance of your predecessors, in respect of that you hope to gain, to leave to your successors. A captain asked julius Cesar (as he declareth in his commentaries) why he travailed in the winter in so hard frost, & in the summer in such extreme heat, He answered: I will do what lieth in me to do, and afterward let the fatal destinies do what they can. For the valiant knight that giveth in battle thonset, aught more to be esteemed: then fickle fortune, whereby the victory is obtained, sins fortune giveth the one, & adventure guideth the other. These words are spoken like a stout & valiant captain of Rome. Of how many princes do we read, whom truly I much lament to see, what flatteries they have herd with their ears being alive: and to red what slanders they have sustained after their death. Princes and great lords should have more regard to that, which is spoken in their absence: then unto that which is done in their presence. Not to that which they hear, but to that which they would not hear: not to that which they tell them but to that which they would not be told of: not to that is written unto them being alive, but to that which is written of them after their death: not to those that tell them lies, but to those which (if they durst) would tell them troth. For men many times refrain not their tongues, for that subjects be not credited: but because the prince in his authority is suspected. The noble & virtuous prince, should not flit from the troth whereof he is certified: neither with flatteries & lies should he suffer himself to be deceived: but to examine himself, & see whether they serve him with troth, or deceive him with lies. For there is no better witness & judge, of truth, & lies: then is a man's own conscience. I have spoken all this, to th'intent your majesty might know, that I will not serve you, with that you should not be served. That is, to show myself in my writing a flatterer. For it were neither meet nor honest, that flatteries into the ears of such a noble prince should enter: neither that out of my mouth (which teach the divine truth) such vain tales should issue. I say, I had rather be dispraised for true speaking, then to be honoured for flattery & lying. For of truth, in your highness it should be much lightness to hear them, & in my baseness great wickedness to invent them. Now again following our purpose I say, the histories greatly commend Lycurgus, that gave laws to the Lacedæmonians. Numa Pompilius, that honoured and adorned the churches. Marcus Marcellus, that had pity on those which were overcome. julius Cesar, that forgave his enemies. Octavius, that was so well-beloved of the people. Alexander, that gave rewards and gifts to all men. Hector the Trojan, because he was so valiant in wars. Hercules the Theban, because he employed his strength so well. Ulysses the Grecian, because he adventured himself in so many dangers. Pyrrhus' king of Epirotes, because he invented so many engines Catullus Regulus, because he suffered so many torments. Titus the Emperor, because he was father to the Orphans. Traianus, because he edified sumptuous & goodly buildings. The good Marcus Aurelius, because he knew more than all they. I do not say that it is requisite for one prince in these days, to have in him all those qualities: but I dare be bold to affirm this, that even as it is unpossible for one prince to follow all: so likewise it is a great slander for him to follow none. We do not require princes to do all that they can, but to apply themselves to do some thing that they ought And I speak not without a cause, that which I have said before, For if princes did occupy themselves, as they ought to do: they should have no time to be vicious, Plynie saith in an epistle, that the great Cato, called Censor, did were a ring upon his finger, wherein was written these words, Esto amicus unius, & inimicus nullius, which is, be friend to one, & enemy to none. He that would deeply consider these few words, shall find therein many grave sentences. And to apply this to my purpose, I say, the prince that would well govern his common weal: show to all equal justice: desire to possess a quiet life: to get among all a good fame: & that coveteth to leave of himself a perpetual memory: ought to embrace the virtues of one, and to reject the vices of al. I allow it very well that princes should be equal, yea & surmount many: but yet I advise them, not to employ their force, but to follow one. For oftentimes it chanceth, that many, which suppose themselves in their life to excel all, when they are dead are scarcely found equal to any. Though man hath done much, & blazed what he can: yet in the end he is but one, one mind, one power, one birth, one life, and one death. Then sithen he is but one, let no man presume to know more than one. Of all these good princes which I have named in the roll of justice, the last was Marcus Aurelius, to th'intent that he should weave his web. For suppose we read of many princes that have compiled notable things, the which are to be red and known: but all that Marcus Aurelius said, or did is worthy to be known, & necessary to be followed. I do not mean this prince in his heathen law, but in his virtuous deeds. Let us not stay at his belyef: but let us embrace the good that he did For compare many Christians with some of the heathen, & look how far we leave them behind in faith: so far they excel us in virtuous works. All the old princes in times past, had some philosophers to their familiars, as Alexander, Aristotle. King Darius, Herodotus. Augustus, Pisto. Pompeius, Plauto. Titus, Pliny. Adrian, Secundus. trajan, Plutarch. Antonius, Apolonius. Theodotius, Claudius. Severus, Fabatus. Finally I say, that philosophers than had such authority in princes palaces: that children acknowledged them for fathers and fathers reverenced them as masters. These sage men were alive in the company of princes: but the good Marcus Aurelius (whose doctrine is before your majesty) is not alive, but dead. Yet therefore that is no cause why his doctrine should not be admitted. For it may be (peradventure) that this shall profit us more, which he wrote with his hands, then that which others spoke with their tongues. plutarch saith, in the time of Alexander the great, Aristotle was alive, and Homer was dead. But let us see how he loved the one, & reverenced the other: for of truth he slept always with Homer's book in his hands, & waking he read the same with his eyes, & always kept the doctrine thereof in his memory, & laid (when he rested) the book under his head. The which privilege Aristotle had not, who at all times could not be heard, & much less at all seasons be believed: so that Alexander had Homer for his friend, and Aristotle for a master. Other of these philosophers were but simple men: but our Marcus Aurelius, was both a wise philosopher, and a valiant prince: and therefore reason would he should be credited before others. For as a prince he will declare the troubles, & as a philosopher he will redress them. Take you therefore (Puissant Prince) this wise philosopher and noble emperor, for a teacher in your youth, for a father in your government, for a captain general in your wars, for a guide in your journeys, for a friend in your affairs, for an example in your virtues, for a master in your sciences for a pure white in your desires, and for equal match in your deeds.  
I will declare unto you the life of an other being a heathen, and not the life of an other being a Christian. For how much glory this heathen prince had in this world, being good and virtuous: so much pains your majesty shall have in the other, if you shallbe wicked and vicious. Behold, behold noble prince, the life of this Emperor, & you shall see how clear he was in his judgement, how upright in his justice, how circumspect in his life, how loving to his friends, how patient in his troubles, how he dissembled with his enemies, how severe against Tyrants, how quiet among the quiet, how great a friend to the sage, and lover of the simple, how adventurous in his wars, and amiable in peace, and above all things, how high in words, and profound in sentences. Many times I have been in doubt with myself whether the Eternal majesty (which giveth unto you princes the temporal majesty, to rule above all other in power and authority) did exempt you that are princes, more from humane frailty: then he did us that be but subjects: and at the last I knew he did not. For I see even as you are children of the world, so you do live according to the world. I see even as you travail in the world: so you can know nothing but things of the world. I see because you live in the flesh, that you are subject to the miseries of the flesh. I see though for a time you prolong your life: yet at the last you are brought to your grave. I see your travail is great, and that within your gates there dwelleth no rest. I see you are cold in the winter, and hot in the summer. I see that hunger feeleth you, and thirst troubleth you, I see your friends forsake you, and your enemies assault you. I see that you are sad, and lack joy. I see you are sick, and be not well served. I see you have much and yet that which you lack is more. What will ye see more, seeing that princes die? O noble princes & great Lords, sins you must die, and become worms meat, why do you not in your life time search for good counsel? If the princes and noble men commit an ●rroure no man dare chastise them, wherefore they stand in greater need of advise & counsel. For the travailer who is out of his way, the more he goeth forward, the more he errethe. If the people do amiss, they ought to be punished: but if the prince err, he should be admonished, And as the Prince will the people should at his hands have punishment: so it is reason that he at their hands should receive counsel.  
For as the wealth of the one dependeth on the wealth of the other: so truly if the prince be vicious, the people can not be virtuous. If your majesty will punish your people with words, command them to print this present work in their hearts. And if your people would serve your highness with their advise: let them likewise beseech you to read over this book. For therein the subjects shall find how they may amend, and you Lords shall see all that you ought to do, wdether this present work be profitable, or no, I will not that my pen shall declare: but they which reed it shall judge.  
For we authors take pains to make and translate, & others for us use to give judgement and sentence, From my tender years until this present, I have lived in the world, occupying myself, in reading and studying humane & divine books, and although I confess my debility to be such, that I have not read so much as I might, nor studied so much as I ought: yet not withstanding all that I have red, hath not caused me to muse so much, as the doctrine of Marcus Aurelius hath, sith that in the mouth of an heathen, god hath put such a great treasure. The greatest part of all his works were in Greek: yet he wrote also many in latin. I have drawn this out of greek through the help of my friends, & afterwards out of latin into our vulgar tongue by the travail of my hands. Let all men judge what I have suffered in drawing it out of Greek into latin, out of the latin into the vulgar, and out of a plain vulgar, into a sweet and pleasant style. For that banquet is not counted sumptuous, unless there be both pleasant meats, and savoury sauces. To call sentences to mind, to place the words, to examine languages, to correct syllables: what sweat I have suffered in the hot summer, what bitter cold in the sharp winter, what abstinence from meats when I desired to eat, what watching in the night when I would have slept, what cares I have suffered in steed of rest that I might have enjoyed: let other prove, if me they will not credit. The intention of my painful travails, I offer to the divine majesty upon my knees, & to your highness (noble prince) I present this my work, and humbly beseech god, that the doctrine of this book may be as profitable unto you, and the common wealth in your life: as it hath been to me tedious, & hindrance to my health. I have thought it good to offer to your majesty the effect of my labours, though you peradventure will little regard my pains: for the requyting of my travail, and reward of my good will, I require nought else of your highness, but that the rudeness of my understanding, the baseness of my style, the smallness of my eloquence, the evil order of my sentences, the vanity of my words, be no occasion, why so excellent and goodly a work should be little regarded. For it is not reason, that a good horse should be the less esteemed, for that the rider knoweth not how to make him run his carrier. I have done what I could do, do you now that you ought to do, in giving to this present work gravity, and to me the interpreter thereof authority. I say no more, but humbly beseech god to maintain your estimation and power in earth: and that you may afterward enjoy the fruition of his divine presence in heaven.   

The Argument of the book called the Dial of Princes. Wherein the author declareth, his intention and manner of proceeding.  
ARchimenedes, the great and famous philosopher, (to whom Marcus Marcellus for his knowledge sake granted life, and after using Nygromancie deserved death) being demanded what time was, said: that time was the inventor of all novelties, and a Regestre certain of antiquities, which seeth of itself the beginning, the midst, and the ending of all things. And finally, time is he that endeth al. No man can deny but the definition of this Philosopher is true: for if time could speak, he would certify us of sundry things wherein we doubt, and declare them as a witness of sight. Admit all things perish, and have an end: yet one thing is exempted, and never hath end, which is truth, that amongst all things is privileged in such wise, that she triumpheth of time, and not time of her. For according to the divine saying it shall be more easy to see heaven, and earth to fall: then once truth to perish. There is nothing so entire, but may be diminished: nothing so healthful, but may be diseased: nothing so strong, but may be broken: neither any thing so well kept, but may be corrupted. And finally I say, there is nothing but by time is ruled and governed, save only truth, which is subject to none The fruits of the spring time have no force to give sustenance, nor perfait sweetness to give any savour, but after that the summer is past, and harvest cometh, they ripe, and then all that we eat nourisheth more and giveth a better taste, I mean by this, when the world began to have wise men, the more Philosophers were esteemed for their good manners, the more they deserved to be reproved for their evil understanding. Plato in his second book of the common wealth said, that the ancient Philosophers) aswell Greeks, as Egyptians, & Caldees) which first began to behold the stars of heaven, and ascended to the top of the mount Olympus, to view the influences, and motions of the planets on the earth, deserved rather pardon of their ignorance, then praise for their knowledge. Plato said further, that the Philosophers which were before us, were the first that gave themselves to search out the truth of the Elements in the heaven, and the first which sowed errors in things natural of the earth. Homer in his Iliad agreeing with Plato, saith. I condemn all that the ancient Philosophers knew, but I greatly commend them for that they desired to know. Certes Homer said well, and Plato said not amiss: for if amongst the first Philosophers this ignorance had not reigned, there had not been such contrary sects in every school. He that hath red, not the books which are lost, but the opinions which the ancient philosophers had, will grant me: though the knowledge were one, yet their sects were divers: that is to say. Cinici, Stoici, Academici, Platonici, and Epicurei, which were as variable the one from the other in their opinions, as they were repugnant in their conditions. I will not, neither reason requireth, that my pen should be so much dysmesured, as to reprove those which are dead, for to give the glory all only to them that are alive: for the one of them knew not all, neither were the other ignorant of all. If he deserveth thanks that showeth me the way, whereby I ought to go: no less than meriteth he, which warneth me of the place wherein we may err, The ignorance of our forefathers, was but a guide to keep us from erring: for the error of them showed us the truth, to their much praise, and to our great shame. Therefore I dare boldly say, if we that are now, had been then, we had known less than they knew, And if those were now, which were then, they would have known more than we know. And that this is true it appeareth well, for that the ancient philosophers, through the great desire they had to know the troth, of small and bypathes have made broad and large ways, the which we now will not see, nor yet walk therein. Wherefore we have not so much cause to bewail their ignorance, as they had reason to complain of our negligence, For truth, which is (as Aulus Gelius saith) the daughter of time, hath revealed unto us the errors which we ought to eschew: and the true doctrine which we ought to follow. What is there to see, but hath been seen? what to discover, but hath been discovered? what is there to read, but hath been red? what to write, but hath been written? what is there to know, but hath been known? now a days humane malice is so expert, men so we ●able, and our wits so subtle, that we want nothing to understand, neither good, nor evil, And we undo ourselves by seeking that vain knowledge, which is not necessary for our life. No man under the pretence of ignorance can excuse his fault, since all men know, all men read, and all men learn, the which is evident in this case, as it shall appear. Suppose the plough man, and the learned man do go to the law, and you shall perceive the labourer (under that simple garment) to forge to his councillor half a dozen of malicious tricks, to delude his adversary as finely: as the other that is leerned shallbe able to expound. 2. or 3. chapters of this book. If men would employ their knowledge to honesty, wisdom, patience, and mercy, it were well: but I am sorry they know so much, only for that they subtly deceive, and by usury abuse their neighbours, and keep that they have unjustly gotten, and daily getting more inventing new trades Finally I say if they have any knowledge, it is not to amend their life: but rather to increase their goods. If the devil could sleep, as men do, he might safely sleep: for whereas he waketh to deceive us, we wake to undo ourselves, well, suppose that all these heretofore I have said is true: Let us now leave aside craft, & take in hand knowledge, The knowledge which we attain to is small, & that which we should attain to so great: that all that we know, is the lest part of that we are ignorant Even as in things natural, the elamentes have their operations, according to the variety of time: so moral doctrines (as the aged have succeeded) and sciences were discovered. Truly all fruits come not together, but when one faileth, another cometh in season. I mean, that neither all the Doctors among the Christians, nor all the philosophers among the gentiles were concurrant at one time, but after the death of one good, there came another better. The chief wisdom, which measureth all things by justice: and disparseth them according to his bounty, will not that at one time they should be all wise men, and at an other time all simple. For it had not been reason the one should have had the fruit, and the other the leaves, The old world that ran in Saturn's days (otherwise called the golden world) was of a truth much esteemed of them that saw it, and greatly commended of them that wrote of it. That is to say, it was not gilded by the Sages, which did gild it: but because there was no evil men, which did ungild it. For as th'experience of the mean estate & nobility teacheth us, of one only parson dependeth aswell the fame and renown, as the infamy of a hole house, and parentage. That age was called golden, that is to say of gold: and this our age is called yronne, that is to say of iron. This difference was not, for that gold than was found, & now iron: nor for that in this our age there is want of them that be sage: but because the number of them surmounteth, that be at this day malicious. I confess one thing, and suppose many will favour me in the same. Phavorin the philosopher (which was master to Aulus Gellius, and his especial friend) said ofttimes, that the philosophers in old time were holden in reputation, because there were few teachers, and many learners. We now a days see the contrary, for infinite are they which presume to be masters: but few are they which humble themselves to be scholars. A man may know how little wise men are esteemed at this hour, by the great veneration that the philosophers had in the old tyme. What a matter is it to see Homer amongst the Grecians Solomon amongst the hebrews, Lycurgus amongst the Lacedomoniens: Phoromeus also amongst the Greeks, Ptolomeus amongst the Egyptians. Livi amongst the Romans, and Cicero likewise amongst the Latins? Appolonius among the Indians, and Secundus amongst the Assyrians.  
How happy were those philosophers (to be as they were in those days) when the world was so full of simple persons, and so destitute of sage men: that there flocked great numbers out of divers countries, and strange nations, not only to here their doctrine: but also to see their persons. The glorious saint Jerome in the prologue to the bible saith. When Rome was in her prosperity, then wrote Titus Livius his decades: yet notwithstanding, men came to Rome more to speak with Titus Livius, then to see Rome or the high capitol thereof Marcus Aurelius writing to his friend Pulio, said these words. Thou shalt understand my friend, I was not chosen Emperor for the noble blood of my predecessors, nor for the favour I had amongst them now present: for there were in Rome of greater blood and riches than I, but the Emperor Adrian my master set his eyes upon me, and the emperor Anthony my father in law chose me for his son in law, for no other cause, but for that they saw me a friend of the sages, & an enemy of the ignorant. Happy was Rome to choose so wise an emperor, and no less happy was he to attain to so great an empire. Not for that he was heir to his predecessor, but for that he gave his mind to study. Truly, if that age than were happy to enjoy his person: no less happy shall ours be now at this present, to enjoy his doctrine. Sallust saith, they deserved great glory, which did worthy feats: and no lesser renown merited they, which wrote them in high style. What had Alexander the great been, if Quintus Curtius had not written of him? what of Ulysses, if Homer had not been borne? what had Alcibiades been, if Zenophon had not exalted him? what of Cirus, if the philosopher Chilo had not put his acts in memory? what had been of Pirrus, king of the Epirotes, if Hermicles chronicles were not? what had been of Scipio the great African, if it had not been for the decades of T●tus Livius? what had been of Trajan, if the renowned plutarch had not been his friend? what of Nerua and Antonius the meek, if Photion the Greek had not made mention of them? how should we have known the stout courage of Cesar, and the great prowess of Pompeius, if Lucanus had not written them? what of the twelve Caesar's, if Suetonius tranquillus had not compiled a book of their lives? and how should we have known the antiquities of the hebrews, if the upright joseph had not been? who could have known the coming of the lombards into Italy, if Paulus Diaconus had not writ it? how could we have known the coming in, the going out, and end of the Goths in Spain, if the curious Rodericus had not showed it unto us? By these things that we have spoken of before, the readers may perceive what is dew unto the Historiographers: who in my opinion, have left as great memory of them for that they wrote with their pens: as the princes have done for that they did with their sword. I confess I deserve not to be named amongst the sages, neither for that I have written and translated, nor yet for that I have composed. Therefore (the sacred and divine letters set a side) there is nothing in the world so curiously written, but needeth correction, & as I say of the one, so will I say of the other, and that is: as I with my will do renounce the glory, which the good for my learning would give me: so in like manner evil men shall not want, that against my will will seek to defame it, We other writers, smally esteem the labour and pains we have to write, although in deed we are not ignorant of a thousand envious tongues, that will backbite it, Many now a days are so evil taught, or to say better, so envious, that when the author laboureth in his study, they play in the streets: when he waketh, they sleep. When he fasteth, they eat: when he sitteth turning the leaves of the book they go hunting after vices abroad: yet for all that, they will presume to judge, deprave, and condemn an other man's doctrine, as if they had the authority that Plato had in grece, or the eloquence that Cicero had in Rome. When I find a man in the latin tongue well seen, his vulgar tongue well polished, in histories well grounded, in Greek letters very expert, and desirous to spend his time with good books: this so heroical and noble a parsonage, I would desire him to put my doctrine under his feet For it is no shame, for a virtuous and wise man, to be corrected of an other wise man. Yet I would gladly know what patience can suffer, or heart dissemble, when two or three be assembled togethers at meat, and after (at the table, or otherwise) one of them taketh a book at adventure in his hands, against the which another will say it is to long, and another will say it speaketh not to the purpose: another it is obscure, and another the words are not well couched: another will say, all that that is spoken is feigned, one will say he speaketh nothing of profit, another he is to curious, and the other he is to malicious. So that in speaking thus, the doctrine remaineth suspicious, and the author scapeth not scotte fire. Suppose them to be therefore such that speak it (as I have spoken of) & that at the table do find such faults, sure they deserve pardon: for they speak not according to the books which they have red, but accord●nge to the cups of wine which they have drunk. For he that taketh not that in geste, which is spoken at the table, knoweth not what jesting meaneth. It is an old custom to murmur at virtuous deeds, and into this rule entereth not only those that make them, but also those which wryt them afterwards: Which thing seemeth to be true, for that Socrates was reproved of Plato▪ Plato of Aristotle. Aristotle of Auerois, Sicilius of Vulpitius. Lelius of Varro, Marinus of Ptolomens, Ennius of Horace, Seneca of Aulus Gellius, Crastonestes of Strabo, Thessale of Gallian, Hermagoras of Cicero. Cicero of Sallust, Origines of saint Jerome, Jerome of Rufinus, Rufinus of Donatus, Donatus of Prosper, and Prosper of Lupus. Then sith that in these men, and in their works hath been such need of correction, which were men of great knowledge, and Lanterns of the world: it is no marvel at all that I have such fortune, since I know so little as I do He may worthily be counted vain and light, which at the first sight, as for only once reading, will rashly judge that, which a wise man with much diligence, and study hath written. The authors, and writers are ofttimes reproved, not of them which can translate, and compile works: but of those which can not read, and yet less understand them. to th'intent simple folks should count them wise, & take their parts in condemning this work and esteem him for a great wise man. I take God to witness, who can judge, whether my intention were good or ill to compile this work, and also I say this my doctrine at the feet of wise and virtuous men, to the end they may be protectors, & defenders of the same. For I trust in God, though some would come to blame (as divers do) the simple words which I spoke: yet others would not fail to relate the good intention that I meant. And to declare further I say, that divers have written of the time of the said Marcus Aurelius, as Herodian wrote little, Eutropius less, Lampridius not so much, and julius capitolinus somewhat more. Likewise ye ought to know, that the masters which taught Marcus Aurelius sciences, were junius Rusticus, Cinna Catullus, Sextus Cheronensis, which was nephew to the great Plutarque. These three were those, that principally as witnesses of sight, wrote the most part of his life and doctrine. Many may marvel to hear tell of the doctrine of Marcus Aurelius, saying, it hath been kept hid and secret a great while, and that of mine own head I have invented it. And that there never was any Marcus Aurelius in the world. I know not what to say now unto them, for it is evident to all those which have red any thing, that Marcus Aurelius was husband to Faustine, father to Comodus, brother to Annius Verus, and son in law to Antonius Pius, the seventh (of Rome) Emperor. Those which say I only have made this doctrine, truly I thank them for so saying, but not for their so meaning For truly, the Romans would have set my Image in Rome for perpetual renown, if so grave sentences should have proceeded from my head. We see that in our time, which was never seen before, and hear that we never heard before. We practise not in a new world, and yet we marvel that there is at this present a new book. Not for that I was curious to discover Marcus Aurelius, or studious to translate him. For truly it is worthy he be noted of wise persons, and not accused of equious tongues. For it chanceth oftentimes in hunting that the most simplest man killeth the dear. The last thing which the Romans conquered in Spain, was Cantabria, which was a city in Navarra, over against Lagrogne, and situated in a high country, where there is now a vain of wines. And the Emperor Augustus which destroyed it, made ten books De bello Cantabrico, where are things worthy of noting, and no less pleasant in reading, which happened unto him in the same conquest. As Marcus Aurelius was brought me from Florence, so was this other book of the wars of Cantabrie brought me from Colleine. If perhaps I took pains to translate this book, as few have done which have seen it, they would speak the like of it, that they did of Marcus Aurelius. Because men are so long in speaking, and so brief in studienge, that without any let or shame, they will a vow no book to be in the world this day, but that they have red, or seen it. I have as much profited in this writing, which is humane: as other doctors have done in matters, which are divine. It is not translated word for word, but sentence for sentence. For we other interpreters are not bound, to give words by measure: but it sufficeth us, to give sentencis by weight. I began to study this work in the year, a thousand, five hundred, and eighteen, and until the year, a thousand, five hundred, twenty and four, I could neither understand, nor know, wherein I was occupied. and albeit I kept it secret vi years yet it was known abroad whereupon the Emperor his majesty being with the fever diseased, sent to me for it to pass the time away And I (according to his commandment) showed him Marcus Aurelius that then was uncorrected, and humbly beseaching him said: that for recompense of all my travail, I desired no other reward, but that no man in his chamber might copy the book. And I in the mean time proceeded to accomplish the work, Because I did not mean in such manner to publish it: for otherwise, I said his majesty should be evil served, and I also of my purpose prevented: but my sins caused, that the book was copied, and conveyed from one to another. And by the hands of Pages sundry times written▪ so that there increased daily in it errors, and faults. And since there was but one original copy, they brought it unto me to correct, which if it could have spoken, would have complained itself, more of them that did write it: then of those which did steal it. And thus when I had finished the work, and thought to have published it, I perceived that Marcus Aurelius was now imprinted at Civil. And in this case, I take the readers to be judges, between me and the Imprinters, because they may see, whether it may stand with law, and justice, that a book which was to his imperial majesty dedicated, the author thereof being but an infant, and the book so unperfect and uncorrect, without my consent or knowledge should be published.  
notwithstanding they ceased not, but printed it again in Portugal, and also in the kingdom of Navarre, And if the first impression was faulty, truly the second and the third were no less. So that which was written for the wealth of all men generally, each man did apply to the profit of himself particularly. There chanced another thing of this book called the golden book of Marcus Aurelius, which I am ashamed to speak, but greater shame they should have, that so dishonestly have done. That is, some made themselves to be auctors of the whole work, others say that part of it was made, and compiled of their own heads: the which appeareth in a book in print, wherein the author did like a man void of all honesty, and in another book, one used likewise the words which Marcus Aurelius spoke to Faustine, when she asked him the key of his study. After these thieves came to my knowledge, judge you whether it were enough to prove my patience. For I had rather they had rob me of my goods, then taken away my renown. By this all men shall see, that Marcus Aurelius was not then corrected, nor in any place perfect, whereby they might perceive, that it was not my mind to translate Marcus Aurelius, but to make a dial's for Princes, whereby all christian people may be governed and ruled. And as the doctrine is showed for the use of many: so I would profit myself, with that which the wise men had spoken and written. And in this sort proceedeth the work, wherein I put one, or two chapters of mine, and after I put some epistles of Marcus Aurelius, and other doctrine of some ancient men. Let not the reader be deceived, to think that the one, and the other is of the auctor. For although the phrase of the languag be mine, yet I confess the greatest part that I knew, was of another man, although the historiographers and doctors (with whom I was helped) were many: yet the doctrine which I wrote, was but one. I will not deny, but I have left out some things which were superfluous: in whose stead I have placed, things more sweet, and profitable. So that it needeth good wits, to make that which seemeth in one language gross, in another to give it the appearance of gold. I have divided into three books this present dial of Princes. The first treateth, that the Prince ought to be a good christian. The second, how he ought to govern his wife, and children. The third teacheth, how he should govern his person, and his comen wealth. I had begun another book, wherein was contained, how a Prince should behave himself in his court, and palace, but the importunity of my friends, caused me to withdraw my pen, to the end I might bring this work to light.   

The Table of the Dial of Princes  

THe Prologue general of the Author The Prologue upon the book entitled Marcus Aurelius, The Argument of the whole book.  
The first Chapter entreateth of the birth & lineage of Marcus Aurelius, where the Author reciteth at the beginning of the book iii Chapters in the which he declareth the discourse of his lief: for by his Epistles and doctrine this whole work is proved. Chap. i.  
Of a letter which Marcus Aurelius, wrote to his friend Pulio: wherein he recounteth the order of his lief. and among other things declareth the words which a poor man of Nola spoke unto the Roman censor. Chap. two.  
Macus Aurelius concludeth his letter, and mentioneth the scienses which he learned, and all the masters he had, and in the end he reciteth five notable things in the observance of the which the Romans were very curious. Chap. iii.  
Of the excellency of the Christian religion (whereby the true God is known) and of the vanities of the ancients in times past. Chap iiii.  
How among the ancients the Philosopher Bruxellus was esteemed, and of the words he spoke unto them at the hour of his death. Chap. v.  
Of the words which Bruxellus the Philosopher spoke to the senate of Rome. Chap. vi.  
How the Gentiles thought that one God was not of power sufficient to defend them from their enemies. Chap. seven.  
Of a letter which the senate sent unto all those which were subject to the empire. Chap. viii.  
Of the true and living God, and of the marvels he wrought in the old law to manifest his divine power, and of the superstition of the false gods Chap. ix.  
That there is but one true God, and how that realm is happy which hath a King that is a good christian. Chap. x.  
Of Sundry gods which the Ancients worshipped, of the office of those gods, and how they were revenged of them that displeased them. Chap. xi.  
Of other more natural and peculiar gods which the Ancient people had. Chap xii.  
How Tiberius the knight was chosen governor of the empire, and afterwards created Emperor, only for being a good Christian: and how God deprived justinian the younger both of his senses and empire for being an heretic. Chap. xiii.  
Of the words the empress Sophia spoke to Tiberius Constantinus, which tended to his reproof for that he consumed the treasures which she had gathered. Chap. xiiii.  
The answer of Tiberius unto the empress Sophia, wherein he declareth that Prince's need not to hourde up great treasures. Chap. xv.  
How the chieftain Narsetes overcame many battles, only for that his whole confidence was in God. And what happened to him by the empress Sophia Augusta: wherein may be noted the unthankfulness of Princes towards their servants. Chap. xvi.  
Of a letter the emperor Marcus Aurelius sent to the king of Scicille, in the which he recordeth the travails they endured together in their youth, and reproveth him of his small reverence towards the temples. Chap. xvii.  
The Emperor proceedeth in his letter to admonish Princes to be fearful of their gods, and of the sentence which the senate gave upon this king, for pulling down the church. Chap. xviii.  
How the Gentiles honoured those which were devout in the service of the gods. Chap. nineteen.  
For five causes Princes ought to be better Christians then their subjects. Chap. xx.  
Of the Philosopher Bias, and of the ten Laws which he gave, worthy to be had in mind. Chap xxi.  
How God from the beginning punished evil men by his justice, and specially those Princes that despise his church and mansion house. Chap. xxii.  
The author proveth by xii examples that Princes are sharply punished when they usurp boldly upon the churches and violate the temples. Chap. xxiii.  
How Valentine the Emperor because he was an evil christian, lost in one day both the Empire and his lief, and was burned alive in a shepecoote. Chap. xxiiii.  
Of the Emperor Valentinian & Gratian his son, which because they were good Christians were always fortunate: and that God giveth victories unto Princes more through tears of them that pray, then through the weapons of those that fight. Chap. xxv.  
Of the godly Oration which the Emperor Gratian made to his soldiers before he gave the battle. Chap. xxvi.  
That the captain Theodosius (which was father of the great Emperor Theodosius) died a good Christian: of the king Hysmarus and the bishop Silvanus and the holy laws which they made and established. Chap. xxvii.  
What a goodly thing it is to have but one prince to rule in the public weal, for their is no greater enemy to the common weal than he which procureth many to command therein. Chap. xxviii.  
That in a public weal there is no greater destruction, then where Princes daily consent to new orders, and change old customs. Chap. xxix  
When tyrants begame to reign, and upon what occasion commanding and obeying first began: and how the authority the Prince hath is by the ordinance of God. Chap. thirty.  
Of the golden age in times past, and worldly misery at this present. Chap. xxxi.  
What the Garamantes said unto king Alexander the great when he went to conquer India, and how that the purity of lief hath more power, than any force of war. Chap. xxxii.  
Of an Oration which one of the sages of Garamantia made unto king Alexander, a goodly lesson for ambitious men. Chap. xxxiii.  
The sage Garamante continueth his Oration, and among other notable matters he maketh mention of seven laws which they observed. Chap. xxxiiii  
That Princes ought to consider for what cause they were made Princes, and what Thales the Philosopher was, and of the questions demanded him. Chap. xxxv.  
What Plutarch the philosopher was, the wise words he spoke to Tra●an the emperor, & how the good Prince is the head of the public weal. Chap. xxxvi.  
The Prince ought to hear the complaints of all his subjects, and to know them all to recompense their service. Chap. xxxvii.  
Of a solemn feast the Romans celebrated to the God janus, and of the bounty of the Emperor Marcus Aurelius the same day. Chap. xxxviii.  
Of the emperors answer to Fuluius the senator, wherein he painteth envious men. Chap. xxxix.  
Of a letter the emperor Marcus Aurelius wrote to his friend Pulio, wherein he declareth the opinions of certain Philosophers concerning the felicity of man. Chap. xl.  
That Princes and great Lords ought not to esteem themselves for being fair and well proportioned of body. Chap. xli.  
Of a letter which Marcus Aurelius wrote to his nephew Epesipus, worthy to be noted of all young Gentlemen. Chap. xlii.  
How Princes and noble men in old time were lovers of sages. Chap. xliii.  
How the Emperor Theodosius provided wise men at the hour of his death for the education of his sons. Chap. xliiii.  
Croesus' king of Lidya was a great lover of sages of a letter, the same Croesus wrote to the Philosopher, Anacarses, and of the Philosophers answer again to the king. Chap. xlv.  
Of the wisdom and sentence of Phalaris the Tyrant, and how he put an Artisan to death for Inventing new torments. Chap. xlvi.  
That sundry mighty and puissant Princes were lovers and friends of the sages. Chap. xlvii.  
The end of the Table of the first Book.   

The table of the second Book.  
OF what excellency marriage is, and where as common people marry of free will, princes and noble men ought to mary of necessity. Chap. i.  
How by means of marriage many mortal enemies have been made parfitte friends. Chap. two.  
Of the sundry laws the ancients had in contracting matrimony, & of the manner of celebrating marriage Chap. iii.  
How princesses & great ladies ought to love their husbands: and that must be without any manner of witchcraft or sorcery but only procured by wisdom and obedience. Chap. iiii.  
The revenge of a Greciane Lady on him that had slain her husband in hope to have her to wife. Chap. v.  
That princesses and great Ladies should be obedient to their husbands, and that it is a great shame to the husband to suffer to be commanded by his wife. Chap vi.  
That women (especially princesses and great ladies) should be very circumspect in going abroad out of their houses, and that through the resort of them that come to their houses they be not ill spoken of. Chap. seven.  
Of the commodities and discomodities which follow princesses and great Ladies that go abroad to visit, or abide in the house. cap viii.  
That women great with child (namely princesses and great Ladies) ought to be very circumspect for the danger of the creatures they bear: wherein is laid before you, many known & sorrowful misfortunes happened to women in that case. Cap ix.  
A further rehearsal of other inconveniences and unlucky chances happened to women great with child. Chap. x.  
That women great with child (chiefly princesses & great ladies) ought to be gently entreated of their husbands. Chap. xi.  
What the Philosopher Pisto was, and of the rules he gave concerning women with child. Chap. xii.  
Of three counsels which Lucius Seneca gave unto a secretary his friend who served the emperor Nero. And how Marcus Aurelius dsposed all the hours of the day. Cap. xiii.  
Of the Importunate suit of the empress Faustine to the Emperor Marcus Aurelius her husband concerning the key of his closet. Chap. xiiii.  
The emperors answer to Faustine touching the demand of the key of his closet. Chap. xv.  
The Emperor followeth his matter, admonishing men of the plagues & great dangers that follow those, which haunt to much the company of women. And reciteth also certain rules for married men, which if they be matched with shrew's and do observe them, may cause them live in quiet with their wives. Chap. xvi.  
The Emperor answereth more particularly concerning the key of his closet. Chap. xvii.  
That princesses & noble women ought not to be ashamed to give their children suck with their own breasts Chap. xviii.  
The author still persuadeth women to give their own children suck. Chap. nineteen.  
That princesses and great ladies ought to be very circumspect in choosing their nurses, of seven properties which a good nurse, should have. Chap. xx.  
The auctor addeth .3. other conditions to a good nurse that giveth suck. Chap. xxi.  
Of the disputation before Alexander the great concerning the sucking of babes. Chap. xxii.  
Of witchcrafts and sorceries which the nurses used in old time in giving their children suck. Chap xxiii.  
Marcus Aurelius writeth to his friend Dedalus, inveighenge against witches which cure children by sorceries and charms. Chap. xxiiii.  
How excellent a thing it is for a gentleman to have an eloquent tongue. cap. xxv.  
Of a letter which the Athenians sent to the Lacedæmonians. Chap. xxvi.  
That nurses which give suck to the children of princes ought to be discreet and sage women. Chap. xxvii.  
That women may be no less wise than men, & though they be not it is not through default of nature, but for want of good bringing up. Chap. xxviii.  
Of a letter which Pythagoras sent to his sister Theoclea she reading at that time philosophy in Samothracia. Chap. xxix.  
The auctor followeth his purpose, persuading princesses and great ladies to endeavour themselves to be wise as the women were in old time. Chap thirty.  
Of the worthiness of the lady Cornelia, and of a notable epistle she wrote to her ii sons Tiberius, and Caius: which served in the wars. Chap. xxxi.  
Of the education and doctrine of children whiles they are young. Chap. xxxii.  
Prince's ought to take heed that their children be not brought up in vain pleasures and delights. chap. xxxiii.  
That princes and great lords ought to be careful in seeking men to bring up their children. Of x. conditions that good school masters ought to have. Chap. xxxiiii.  
Of the two. sons of Marcus Aurelius of the which the eldest and best beloved died. And of the masters he reproved for the other named Comodus. Chap. xxxv.  
How Marcus Aurelius rebuked five of the xiiii. masters he had chosen for the education of his son Comodus. And how he banished the rest from his palace for their light behaviour at the feast of the god Genius. Chap. xxxvi.  
That princes & other noble men ought to oversee the tutors of their children lest they conceal the secret faults of their scholars. Chap. xxxvii.  
Of the emperors determination when he committed his son to the tutoures, which he had provided for his education. Chap. xxxviii.  
That tutors of princes and noble men's sons ought to be very circumspect, that their scholars do not accustom them selves in vices whiles they are young, and specially to keep them from four vices. Chap xxxix.  
Of ii other vices perilous in youth which the masters ought to keep them from. Chap. xl.  
The end of the Table of the second Book.   

The table of the third Book.  
HOw Princes and great Lords ought to travail to administer to all equal justice. Chap. i.  
The way that Princes ought to use in choosing their judges & Officers in their countries. Chap. two.  
Of an oration which a vilian of Danuby made before the senators of Rome, concerning the tyranny and oppressions which their officers use in his country. Chap. iii.  
The villain argueth against the Romans, which without cause or reason concquered their country and proved manifestly that they through offending of their gods were vancquished of the Romans. Chap. iiii.  
The villain concludeth his oration against the judges which minister not justice, and declareth how prejudicial such wicked men are to the common weal. Chap. v.  
That Princes and noble men should be very circumspect in choosing judges and officers for therein consisteth the profit of the public weal. Chap. vi.  
Of a letter which Marcus Aurelius wrote to Antigonus his friend, wherein he speaketh against the cruelty of judges and Officers. Chap. seven.  
The Emperor Marcus continueth his letter against cruel judges, and reciteth two. examples: the one of a pitiefull king of Cyprus, and the other of a cruel judge of Rome, and in this Chapter is mentioned the erbe Ilabia (growing in Cyprus, on the mount Arcladye) which being cut droppeth blood. etc. Chap. viii.  
Of the words, which Nero spoke concerning justice, and of the instruction, which the Emperor Augustus gave to a judge which he sent into Dacia. Cap. ix.  
The Emperor followeth his purpose against cruel judges, & declareth a notable embassage which came from judea to the Senate of Rome, to complain of the judges that governed that Realm. Chap. x.  
The Emperor concludeth his letter against the cruel judges, & declareth what the grand father of king Boco spoke in the Senate. Chap. xi.  
An exhortation of the auctor to princes & noble men, to embrace peace, and to eschew the occasions of war. Chapter xii.  
The commodities, which come of peace. Chap. xiii.  
A letter of Marcus Aurelius to him friend Cornelius, wherein he describeth the discommodities of war, and the vanity of the triumph, Chap. xiiii.  
The Emperor Marcus Aurelius declareth the order that the Romans used in setting forth men of war, and of the ou●tragious villainies, which captains and soldiers use in the wars. Chap. 15.  
Marcus Aurelius lamenteth with tears the folly of the Romans, for that they made war with Asia. And declareth what great damage cometh unto the people where the prince doth begin wars in a strange country. Chap. xvi.  
That princes and great lords (the more they grow in years) should be the more discrete and virtuous to refrain from vices. Chap. xvij.  
That princes when they are aged, should be temperate in eating, sober in drinking, modest in apparel, & above all, true in their communication. Chap. xviii ..  
Of a letter of the Emperor Marcus Aurelius to Claudius, and Claudinus, wherein he reproveth those that have many years, and little discretion. Chap. nineteen  
The emperor followeth his letter, and persuadeth those that are old, to give no more credit to the world, nor to any of his flatteries. Chap. xx.  
The emperor procedith in his letter, & proveth by good reasons, that sith the aged persons will be served and honoured of the young: they ought to be more virtuous and honest than the young. Chap. xxi.  
The emperor concludeth his letter, & showeth what perils those old men live in, which dissolutly like young children pass their days, and giveth unto them wholesome counsel for the remedy thereof. Chap. xxii.  
Prince's ought to take heed that they be not noted of Avarice, for that the covetous man is both of god & man hated. Cap xxiii.  
The auctor followeth his matter, & with great reasons discommendeth the vices of covetous men, Chap. xxiiii,  
Of a letter which the emperor M. Aurelius wrote to his friend Cincinatus wherein he toucheth those gentlemen, which will take upon them the trade of merchandise against their vocations divided into 4. chapters, Chap, xxv.  
The Emperor proceedeth his letter, & declareth what virtues men ought to use, and the vices which they ought to eschew. Cap. xxvi.  
The Emperor concludeth his letter, & parswadeth his friend Cincinatus to despise the vanities of the world, & showeth though a man be never so wise yet he shall have need of another man's counsel. chap. xxvii.  
The auctor persuadeth princess & great lords to fly covetousness and avarice, and to become liberal, which is a virtue seemly for a Royal parson. Cap. xxviii.  
The auctor parswadeth gentleman, and those the profess arms, not to abase themselves by taking upon them any vile offices for gain sake. Cap. xxix.  
Of a letter th'emperor wrote to his neighbour Marcurius, wherein men may learn the dangers of those which traffic by sea, & see the covetousness of them that travail by land. Cap thirty.  
The Emperor followeth his matter, & concludeth his letter, rebuking his friend Marcurius, for that he took thought for the loss of his goods. He showeth the nature of fortune, & the conditions of the covetous man. Cap. xxxi.  
That princes and noble men ought to consider the misery of man's nature, & that brute beasts are in some points (reason set a part) to be preferred unto man. cap. xxxii  
The auctor compareth the misery of men, with the liberty of beasts. Cap. xxxiii.  
The Emperor writeth his letter to Domicius to comfort him being banished for a quarrel betwixt him and another about the running of a horse, very comfortable to all them, that have been in prosperity, and are now brought into adversity. Cap. xxxiiii.  
That princes & noble men ought to be advocattes for widows, fathers of orphans, and helpers of all those which are comfortless. xxxv.  
That the troubles, griefs, & sorrows of women are much greater then those of men, wherefore princes & noble men ought to have more compassion upon women: then on men. Cap. xxxvi.  
Of a letter which the Emperor wrote to a Roman lady named Lavinia comforting her for the death of her husband, which is a great consolation for all those, that are sorrowful, for the disease of their friends. Chap. xxxvii.  
The Emperor persuaded widnes to put their wills unto the will of god, & exhorteth them to live honestly. Chap. xxxviii.  
That princes, & noble men ought to despise the world, for that there is nothing in the world but plain disobeyed. Chap. xxxix.  
The emperor speaketh vehemently against th' deceits of the world. Chap. xl.  
Of a letter, which the Emperor Mar. Aure. wrote to Torquatus to comfort him in his banishment, which is notable for all men to learn the vanities of this world. Chap. xli.  
The Emperor persuadeth all men by strong & high reasons, not to trust the world nor any thing therein. Chap. xlii.  
Princes and noble men ought not to bear with jugglers, jesters, parasites, minstrels loiterers, nor with any such kind of rascals And of the laws which the Romans made in this behalf. Chap. xliii,  
How some loiterers were punished by the ancients, and of these raskalles of our time. Chap. xliiii.  
Of a letter which the Emperor wrote to a friend of his, certifying him, that he had banished from Rome, the jesters jugglers, conterfet fools, parasites, ruffians, minstrels, vagabonds, and all other loiterers a notable letter for such as keep counterfeit fools in their houses. Chap. xlv.  
How the Emperor found the sepulchres of many learned Philosophers in Hellespont, whereunto he sent all these loyteres. Chap. xlvi.  
The emperor declareth the cause why these jesters and jugglers were admitted into Rome. Chap. xlvii.  
That Princes and noble men ought to remember, that they are mortal and must die, where are sundry notable consolations against the fear of death. Chap xlviii.  
Of the death of the Emperor. Mar. Aur. and how they are few friends which dare say the truth unto sick-men. Chap. xlix.  
Of the comfortable words, which the secretary Pannutius spoke to the Emperor Marcus Aurelius, at the hour of his death. Chap. l.  
Pannutius the secretary exhorteth all men willingly to accept death and utterly to for sake the world & his vanity. Chap. li.  
The answer of the Emperor. Marcus to Panutius his secretary wherein he declared that he took no thought to forsake the world: but all his sorrow was to leave behind him an unhappy child to inherit the Empire. Chap. lii.  
The Emperor Marcus Aurelius concludeth his matter and showeth that sundry young Princes for being vicious, have undone themselves, and impoverished their Realms. Chap. liii.  
Of the words which the emperor M. Arelius spoke unto his son Commodus necessary for all noble young gentlemen to understand. Chap. liv,  
The emperor. Mar. aur. among other wholesome counsels exhorteth his son to keep wise & sage men about him, for to give him counsel in all his affairs. Chap. lv.  
The emperor followeth his matter and exhorteth his son unto certain particular things worthy to be engraved in the hearts of men. Char. lvi.  
The good Marcus Aurelius Emperor of Rome endeth his purpose, & life. And of the last words which he spoke to his son Commodus & of the table of counsels which he gave him. Chap. lvii.  
The end of the Table of the third book.   

The table of the fourth book.  
The Epistle to the Reader.  
The Prologue.  
The Argument.  
That it is more necessary for the courtier (abiding in court) to be of lively spirit & audacity, them it is for the soldier, that goeth to serve in the wars. Chap. i.  
Of courtier's brawls & quarrels with the harbingers for ill lodging. Chap. two.  
How the courtier should entreat his host or master of the house where he lieth. Chap. iii.  
What the Courtier must do to win the Prince's favour. Chap. iiii.  
What manners and gestures become the courtier when he speaketh to the Prince. Chap. v.  
How the courtier should behave himself to know, and to visit the noble men and gentle men, that be great with the Prince and continuing still in court. Chap. vi.  
Of the good countenance & modesty the courtier should have in behaving himself at the prince or noble man's table in that time of his meal. Cap. seven.  
What company the courtier should keep and how he should apparel himself. Chap. viii.  
Of the wise manner the courtier should have to serve and honour the Ladies and gentlewomen, and also to satisfy & please the ushers & porters of the kings house. Chap. ix.  
Of the great pains and troubles the courtier hath that is toiled in suits of law, and how he must suffer and behave himself with the judges. Chap. x.  
The auctor speaketh of the beloved of the court, admonishing them to be patient in their troubles, and that they be not partial in th'affairs of the common weal. Chap. xi.  
That th'officers and beloved of the court should be very diligent, and careful in the dispatch of the affairs of the prince and common weal, and in correcting and reforming their servants, they should also be very circumspct and advised. Chap. xii.  
That the déerlings of the court beware they be not proud, and high minded, for lightly they never fall but through this wicked vice. Chap. xiii,  
That it is not fit for courtiers to be to covetous, if they mean to keep themselves, out of many troubles and dangers. Chap. xiiii.  
That the favoured of the court should not trust to much to their favour and credit they have, nor to the great prosperity of their life, a worthy chapter and full of good doctrine Chap. xv.  
The auctor admonisheth those that are in favour, and great with the prince, that they take heed of the deceits of the world, and learn to live and die honourably, and that they leave the court before age overtake them. Chapter xvi.  
Of the continency of favoured courtiers and how they ought to shun the company and conversation of unhonest women, & to be careful quickly to dispatch all such as sue unto them. Chap. xvii.  
That the nobles and beloved of princes exceed not in superfluous fare, & that they be not to sumptuous in their meats. A notable chapter for those that use to much delicacy and superfluity. Chap. xviii.  
That the favoured of princes ought not to be dishonest of their tongues nor envious of their words. Chap. nineteen.  
A commendation of troth, which professed courtiers ought to embrace, and in no respect to be found defective in the contrary, telling one thing for another. Chap xx.  
The end of the table of the fourth Book.   

Hear beginneth the table of the letters, translated out of Spanish, which were not in the French Copy.  
OF a huge monster which was seen in Scicilli in the time of Marcus Aurelius. Chap. i.  
Of that which chanced, unto a neighbour of his in Rome, in the time of his Empire. Chap. two.  
How Marcus Aurelius the Emperor sought the wealth of his people, and how his people loved him. Chap. iii.  
How at the intercession of many, which the Empress had sent, the Emperor granted his daughter Lucilla licence to sport herself at the feasts. Chap. iiii.  
Of the sharp words which Marcus Aurelius spoke to his wife, and too his daughter. Chap. v.  
The Emperor exhorteth his wife to take away all occasions of evil from her daughter, where in is declared the frailetye of the tender flesh. Chap. vi.  
Of the wisdom of Marcus Aurelius in procuring husbands for his daughters. Chap. seven  
Of a letter which the Emperor Marcus Aurelius sent to his especial friend, to comfort him in his troubles. Chap. viii.  
A letter sent by the Emperor Marcus Aurelius to Censorius, that was so sorrowful for the death of his son, worthy to be red and noted. Chap. ix  
A letter sent by Marcus Aurelius Emperor to Censorius of the news, which at that time were at Rome. Chap. x.  
Of a sharp letter full of reprehensions sent by the Emperor Marcus Aurelius to the amorous ladies of Rome, because in his absence they devised a play of him. Cap. xi.  
Of a letter which he sent to his lover Bohemia, for that she desired so earnestly to go with him to the wars, wherein is to be noted the great folly of young men, & the little shame of evil women. Cap. xii.  
The answer of Bohemia to the Emperor Marcus Aurelius wherein is expressed the great malice, and little patience of an evil woman. Chap. xiii.  
Of a letter which the Emperor Marcus Aurelius sent to the lady Macrine, the Roman, of whom (beholding her at the window) he became enamoured, which declareth what force the beauty of a fair woman hath in a weak man Chap. xiiii.  
Of an other letter, which the Emperor sent to the lady Macrine, wherein he expresseth the fiery flames which consume soonest the gentle hearts. Chap. xv.  
Of a letter which the Emperor Marcus Aurelius sent to the beautiful lady of Lybia, wherein he reproveth that love is natural, and that the most part of the philosophers and men have been by love overcome. Chap. xvi.  
The end of the table.    

The first book of the Dial of princes, with the famous Book of Marcus Aurelius, wherein be entreateth what excellency is in the prince, that is a good Christian: and contrariwise, what evils do follow him, that is a cruel tyrant.  

¶ Where the Author speaketh of the birth and lineage of the wise Philosopher and Emperor, Marcus Aurelius And he putteth also at the beginning of this Book three Chapters, wherein he entreateth of the discourse of his life: for by his Epistles and doctrine, the whole of this present work is proved. Cap. i.  
AFter the death of the Emperor Antonius Pius, in the 695. years from the foundation of Rome, and in the 173. olympiad: Fuluius Cato, & Gneus Patroclus then being consuls: the fourth day of October, in the high Capitol of Rome, at suit of the whole Roman people & with th'assent of the sacred Senate Marcus Aurelius Antonius was proclaimed Emperor universal of the whole Roman monarch. This noble prince was naturally of Rome borne in the mount Celio, on the sixth day before the kalends of May, which after the Latins account is the xxvi day of April. His grandfather was called Annius Verus, and was chosen senator in the time of the emperors Titus, and Vespasian, his great grand father was named Annius Verus, which was borne in Spain in the free town of Gububa, when the wars were most cruel between Caesar and Pompeius: at what time many spaniards fled to Rome, and many Romans ran into Spain. By this means this Emperor had a great grandfather a Roman, and a great grandmother a Spaniard. His father was named Annius Verus after his grandfather and great grandfather, by reason whereof the ancient historiographers call him Marcus Antonius Verus. And true it is that the Emperor Adrian called him Marcus Verissimus, for that he never forged lie nor swerved at any time from the truth. These Annij Veri were a kindred in Rome (as julius Capitolinus reporteth) which vaunted themselves to come of Numa Pompilius and Quintus Curtius the famous Roman: which (to work the Roman people safety, and his own person everlasting memory) willingly threw himself into the lake, which afterwards was called Curtius. That as then was seen in Rome. This emperors mother was called Domitia Camilla, as recounteth Cinna in the books that he wrote of Roman pedigrees. That stock of Camilli, was in those days highly honoured in Rome: for that they conveyed their dissent from that Camillus, which was the renowned and valiant Roman captain, who delivered Rome when the Gawles' had taken it and besieged the Capitol. The men that sprang of this lineage bore the name of Camilli, for remembrance of this Camillus. And the woman that came of the same stock kept the name of Camille, in memory of a daughter of the said Camillus. This Camilla refused marriage, and chose to live among the vessel virgins: and there long space remained enduring a sharp and hard life. And she was so virtuous a Roman and precise in her life, that in the time of Severus Emperor of Rome, her tomb was honoured as a relic, whereon was engraved this epitaph.  
Camilla lo, doth here engraved rest.  
That only was, Camillus' daughter dear  
Twice twenty years, and fix, she hath possessed  
A covert life, untouched of any fear.  
The king of Trinacry, could not her move  
To taste the sweet delight of wedlocks band  
Nor train by suit, her sacred mind to love,  
●nclosde in breast, so deep did chasteness stand.  
But oh, great wrong, the crawling worms her do  
To gnaw, on that unspotted senseless corpse  
That rage of youth spent undefiled so  
With sober life, in spite of Cupid's force.  
And this was written in heroical verse in the Greek tongue with a marvelous haughty style. But to our matter, ye shall understand that the Romans kept a certain Law in the 12. tables, the words whereof were these. We ordain and command, that all the Romans shall for ever have special privilege in every such place, where their ancestors have done to the Roman people any notable service. For it is reason, that where the citizen adventureth his life, there the city should do him some honour after his death. By virtue of this law, all the family of Camilli ever enjoyed the keeping of the high Capitol, for that by his force and policy he chased the french men from the siege. Truly it is not unknown that this noble knight and valiant captain Camille did other things as great, and greater than this: but because it was done within the circuit of Rome, it was esteemed above all his other acts and prows. And herein the Romans swerved not far from reason, for that amongst all princely virtues is esteemed to be the chiefest and worthiest, which is employed to the profit of the common wealth. The Roman Chroniclers with tears cease not to lament the ruin of their country, saying that variety of time, the multitude of tyrants, the cruelty of civil wars were occasion that the ancient state of the roman government came to utter destruction, and in steed thereof a new and evil trade of life to be placed. And hereof no man ought to marvel, for it chanceth throughout all realms and nations, by oft changing governors that among the people daily springeth sundry new vices. Pulio saith, that for no alteration which befell to the common weal, for no calamity that ever Rome suffered, that privilege was taken away from the Image of Camilli (I mean the government of the high Capitol) except it were in the time of Silla the consul, when this family was sore persecuted, for none other cause but for that they favoured the consul Marius. This cruel Silla being dead, and the pitiful julius Cesar prevailing, all the banished men from Rome returned home again to the commonne wealth. As touching the ancestors of the Emperor Marcus Aurelius, what hath been their trade of life, estate, poverty, or riches, standing infavour or displeasoure, what prosperity or adversity they have had or suffered, we find not in writings, though with great diligence they have been searched for. And the cause hereof was, for that the ancient writers of the Roman histories, touched the lives of the emperors fathers (specially, when they were made princes) more for the good merits that were in the children, then for the great estimation that came from the fathers. julius Capitolinus saith that Annius Verus (father of Marcus Aurelius) was Praetor of the Rhodian armies, and also warden in other frontiers, in the time of trajan the good, Adrian the wise, and antony the merciful. Which Emperors trusted none with their armies but discrete and valiant men. For good princes chose always such captains as can with wisdom guide the army, and with valiantness give the battle. Though the Romans had sundry wars in diverse places, yet chiefly they kept great garrisons always in four parts of the world. That is to say, in Bizance (which now is Constantinople) to resist the parthians, in Gades (which now is called Galiz) to withstand the Portugals: in the river of Rein, to defend themselves from the Germans: and at Colossuses (which now is called the isle of Rhodes) for to subdue the barbarians. In the month of january when the Senate distributed their offices, the dictatoure being appointed for 6. months: and the. 2. consuls chosen for one year: incontinently in the .3. place they chose 4. of the most renowned persons to defend the said 4, dangerous frontiers. For the Romans neither feared the pains of hell, nor trusted for reward in heaven: but sought by all occasions possible in their life to leave some notable memory of them after their death. And that Roman was counted most valiant & of the Senate best favoured, to whom they committed the charge of the most cruel and dangerous wars. For their strife was not to bear rule and to be in office to get money: but to be in the frontiers to overcome their enemies. In what estimation these 4. frontiers were we may easily perceive, by that we see the most noble Romans have passed some part of their youth in those places as captains, until such time that for more weighty affairs they were appointed from thence to some other places. For at that time there was no word so grievous and injurious to a citizen, as to say go, thou hast never been brought up in the wars: and to prove the same by examples, the great Pompey passed the winter season in Constantinople, the adventurous Scipio in Colonges, the courageous Caesar in Gades, and the renowned Marius in Rhodes. And these. 4. were not only in the frontiers afore said in their youth, but there they did such valiant acts, that the memory of them remained evermore after their death. These things I have spoken to prove, sith we find that Marcus Aurelius father was captain of one of those .4. frontiers: it followeth that he was a man of singular wisdom and prowess. For as Scipio said to his friend Masinissa. in Afric it is not possible for a Roman captain to want either wisdom or courage, for thereunto they were predestined at their birth. We have no authentic authorities that showeth us from whence, when, or how, in what countries and with what persons this captain passed his youth. And the cause is, for that the Romain Chroniclers were not accustomed to write the things done by their prince before they were created: but only the acts of young men, which from their youth had their hearts stoutly bend to great adventurs. And in my opinion it is well done. For it is greater honour to obtain, an empire by policy & wisdom then to have it by descent, so that there be no tyranny. Suetonius Tranquillus in his first book of Emperors counteth at large the adventurous enterprises taken in hand by julius Caesar in his young age, & how far unlikely they were from thought that he should ever obtain the Roman Empiree writing this to show unto princes, how earnestly julius Caesar's heart was bend to win the Roman Monarchy, and likewise how wisdom failed him in behaving himself therein. A philosopher of Rome wrote to Phalaris the tyrant, which was in Cicilia, ask him why he possessed the Realm so long by tyranny? Phalaris answered him again in another epistle in these few words Thou callest me tyrant because I have taken this realm & kept it this .32. years I grant thee (quoth he) that I was a tyrant in usurping it: For no man occupieth another man's right but by reason he is a tyrant. But yet I will not agree to be called a tyrant, sith it is now xxxii years sins I have possessed it. And though I have achieved it by tyranny, yet I have governed it by wisdom. And I let thee to understand, that to take an other man's goods, it is an easy thing to conquer, but a hard thing to keep an easy thing: but to keep them, I ensure the it is very hard. The Emperor Marcus Aurelius married the daughter of Antonius Pius, the 16. Emperor of Rome, and she was named Faustina, who as sole heir had the Empire: & so through marriage Marcus Aurelius came to be Emperor: this Faustines was not so honest and chaste: as she was fair and beautiful. She had by him two sons, Commodus, and Verissimus, Marcus Aurelius triumphed twice, once when he overcame the Perthians, and an other time when he conquered the Argonantes He was a man very well learned and of a deep understanding, He was as excellent both in the Greek and latin, as he was in his mother tongue. He was very temperate in eating and drinking, he wrote many things full of good learning & sweet sentences: He died in conquering the realm of Pannonia, which is now called Hongarie. His death was as much bewailed, as his life was desired. And he was loved so entirely in the city of Rome, that every Roman had a statue of him in his house, to th'end the memory of him (among them) should never decay. The which was never red that they ever did for any other king or Emperor of Rome, no not for Augustus Cesar who was best beloved of all other Emperors of Rome. He governed the empire for the space of 18. years with upright justice: and died at the age of 63 years with much honour, in the year clymatericke, which is in the 60. and 3. years wherein the life of man runneth in great peril. For then are accomplished the nine sevens, or the seven nynes. Aulus Gelius writeth a chapter of this matter in the book De noctibus Atticis. Marcus Aurelius was a prince of life most pure, of doctrine most profound, & of fortune most happy of all other princes in the world, save only for Faustine his wife and Commodus his son And to the end we may see what Marcus Aurelius was from his infancy, I have put here an epistle of his which is this.   

¶ Of a letter which Marcus Aurelius sent to his friend Pulio, wherein he declareth the order of his whole life: and amongst other things he maketh mention of a thing that happened to a Roman Censor with his host of Campagna. Cap. two.  
MArcus Aurelius only Emperor of Rome greeteth the his old friend Pulio wisheth health to thy parson, and peace to the comen wealth. As I was in the temple of the vestal virgens, a letter of thine was presented unto me, which was written long before, and greatly desired of me: but the best thereof is, that thou writing unto me briefly, desirest that I should written unto the at large. Which is undecent for the authority of him that is chief of the empire, in especial if such one be covetous: for to a prince there is no greater infamy, then to be lavish of words, and scant of rewards. Thou writest to me of thy grief in thy leg, and that thy wound is great: and truly the pain thereof troubleth me at my heart, and I am right sorry that thou wantest that which is necessary for thy health, and that good that I do wish the. For in the end all the travails of the life may be endured, so that the body with diseases be not troubled. Thou lettest me understand by thy letters that thou art arrived at Rhodes, and requirest me to write unto the how I lived in that place when I was young, what time I gave my mind to study, & likewise what the discourse of my life was until the time of my being Emperor of Rome. In this case truly I marvel at the not a little that thou shouldest ask me such a question, and so much the more that thou didst not consider, that I cannot without great trouble and pain answer thy demand. For the doings of youth in a young man were never so upright and honest, but it were more honesty to amend them, then to declare them. Annius Verus my father showing unto me his fatherly love (not accomplishing yet fully 13 years) drew me from the vices of Rome, and sent me to Rhodes to learn science, howbeit better acccompanyed with books, then laden with money, where I used such diligence, and fortune so favoured me, that at the age of 26. years I read openly natural and moral philosophy, and also Rhetoric: and there was nothing gave me such occasion to study, and read books, as the want of money, for poverty causeth good men's children to be virtuous, so that they attain to that by virtue, which others come unto by riches. truly friend Pulio I found great want of the pleasures of Rome, specially at my first coming into the isle, but after I had red philosophy 10 years at Rhodes, I took myself as one borne in the country, And I think my conversation among them caused it to seem no less. For it is a rule that never faileth, that virtue maketh a stranger grow natural in a strange country: and vice maketh the natural a stranger in his own country. Thou knowest well how my father Annius Verus was 15. years a captain in the frontiers against the Barbarous, by the commandment of Adrian my lord and master, and Antonius Pius my father in law, both of them princes of famous memory: which recommended me there to his old friends, who with fatherly counsel exhorted me to forget the vices of Rome, and to accustom me to the virtues of Rhodes. And truly it was but needful for me, for the natural love of the country oft times bringeth damage to him that is borne therein leading his desire still to return home. Thou shalt understand that the Rhodians are men of much courtesy, & requyting benevolence, which chanceth in few Isles: because that naturally they are personnes deceitful, subtle, unthankful, and full of suspicion. I speak this because my father's friends always succoured me with counsel and money: which two things were so necessary, that I could not tell which of them I had most need of. For the stranger maketh his profit with money to withstand disdainful poverty, and profitteth himself with counsel to forget the sweet love of his country. I desired then to read philosophy in Rhodes so long as my father continued there captain, But that could not be, for Adrian my lord sent for me to return to Rome, which pleased me not a little, albeit (as I have said) they used me as if I had been borne in that Island, for in theend although the eyes be fed with delight to see strange things, yet therefore the heart is not satisfied. And this is all that toucheth the Rhodians. I will now tell the also how before my going thither I was borne and brought up in mount Celio (in Rome) with my father from mine infancy. In the common wealth of Rome there was a law used, & by custom well observed, that no citizen which enjoyed any liberty of Rome (after their sons had accomplished .10. years) should be so bold or hardy to suffer them to walk the streets like vagabonds. For it was a custom in Rome, that the children of the senators should suck till two years of age, till 4. they should live at their own wills, till 6. they should reed, till 8 they should write, till 10. they should study grammar, & 10. years accomplished they should then take some craft or occupation, or give themselves to study, or go to the wars, so that throughout Rome no man was idle. In one of the laws of the 12 tables wear written these words. We ordain and command that every citizen that dwelleth within the circuit of Rome or liberties of the same, from 10 years upwards to keep his son well ordered. And if perchance the child being idle, or that no man teacheth him any craft or science, should thereby peradventure fall to vice, or commit some wicked offence, that then the father no less than the son should be punished. For there is nothing so much breadeth vice amongst the people, as when the fathers are to negligent, and the children to bold. And furthermore another law said. We ordain and command that after 10. years be past, for the first offence that the child shall commit in Rome, that the father shallbe bound to send him forth some where else, or to be bound surety for the good demeanour of his son. For it is not reason that the fond love of the father to the son should be an occasion why the multitude should be slandered: because all the wealth of the Empire consisteth in keeping and maintaining quiet men, and in banishing and expelling seditious persons. I will tell the one thing my Pulyo, and I am sure thou wilt marvel at it, and it is this. When Rome triumphed and by good wisdom governed all the world, the inhabitants in the same surmounted the number of two hundredth thousand parsons, which was a marvelous matter. amongst whom (as a man may judge) there was above a hundredth thousand children. But they which had the charge of them kept them in such awe and doctrine, that they banished from Rome one of the sons of Cato uticensis for breaking an earthen pot in a maidens hands which went to fetch water. In like manner they banished the son of good Cinna, only for entering into a garden to gather fruit, And none of these two were as yet fyftyne years old. For at that time they chastised them more for the offences done in gest, than they do now for those which are done in good earnest. Our Cicero saith in his book De legibus, that the Romans never took in any thing more pains, then to restrain the children aswell old as young from idleness. And so long endured the fear of their law, and honour of their common wealth, as they suffered not their children like vagabonds idly to wander the streets. For that country may above all other be counted happy, where each one enjoyeth his own labour, and no man liveth by the sweat of another. I let the know my Pulio, that when I was a child (although I am not yet very old) none durst be so hardy to go commonly through Rome, without a token about him of the craft and occupation he exercised, and whereby he lived. And if any man had been taken contrary, the children did not only cry out of him in the streets as of a fool: but also the Censor afterwards condemned him to travail with the captynes in common works. For in Rome they esteemed it no less shame to the child which was idle, than they did in Grece to the philosopher which was ignorant. And to th'end thou mayest see this I writ unto the to be no new thing, thou oughtest to know, that the Emperor caused to be borne afore him a brenning brand, and the counsel an axe of arms, the priests a hat in manner of a coif, The Senators a crusible on their arms, the judges a little balance, the Tribunes Maces, the governors a sceptre, the bishops hats of flowers, The Orators a book, the cutlers a sword, the goldsmiths a pot to melt gold: and so forth of all other offices, strangers excepted, which went all marked after one sort in Rome: For they would not agree that a stranger should be appareled & marked according to the children of Rome. O my friend Pulio, it was such a joy then to behold the discipline and prosperity of Rome, and it is now at this present such a grief to see the calamity thereof, that by the immortal gods I swear to thee, and so the god Mars guide my hand in wars, that the man which now is best ordered, is not worth so much as the most dissolute person was then. For then amongst a thousand they could not find one man vicious in Rome, and now amongs twenty thousand they cannot find one virtuous in all italy. I know not why the gods are so cruel against me, and fortune so contrary, that this 40. years I have done nothing but weep and lament to see the good men die, and immediately to be forgotten: and on the other side to see the wicked live and to be always in prosperity. universally the noble heart may endure all the troubles of man's life, unless it be to see a good man decay, and the wicked to prosper: which my heart cannot abide, nor yet my tongue dissemble. And touching this matter my friend Pulio, I will write unto the one thing which I found in the books of the high Capitol, where he treateth of the time of Marius and Sylla, which truly is worthy of memory and that is this. There was at Rome a custom and a law inviolable, sith the time of Cinna, that a Censor expressly commanded by the senate should go and visit the provinces which were subject unto it through out all italy: and the cause of those visitations was for three things. The first, to see if any complained of justice, the second, to see in what case the common wealth stood. The third, to th'end that yearly they should render obedience to Rome. O my friend Pulio, how thinkest thou? if they visited italy at this present, as at that time they surveyed Rome, how full of errors should they find it: And what decay should they see therein thinkest thou? truly (as thou knowest) they should see the common wealth destroyed, justice not ministed, and moreover Rome not obeyed, and not without just cause. For of right ought that common wealth to be destroyed, which on's of all other hath been the flower, and most beautified with virtues: and after becometh most abominable and defiled with vices. The case was such, that two years after the wars of Sylla, and Marius, the Censor went yearly to Nola (which is a place in the province of Campania) to visit the same country as the custom was. And in those days the time and season being very hot, and the province quiet, not disturbed with wars, and perceiving that none of the people came to him. The censor said to the host which lodged him.  
Friend I am a judge sent from the Senators of Rome to visit this land. Therefore go thy ways quickly and call the good men hither which be among the people, For I have to say unto them from the sacred senate. This host (who peradventure was wiser than the Roman judge, although not so rich) goeth to the graves of the dead, which in that place were buried, and spoke unto them with a loud voice saying. O ye good men, come away with me quickly, for the Roman Censor calleth you. The judge perceiving they came not, sent him again to call them: and the host as he did at the first time, so did he now at the second. For when he was at the graves with a loud voice he said. O ye good men come hither, for the censor of Rome would talk with you. And likewise they were called the third time, with the self-same words. And the Censor seeing no body come, was marvelous angry, and said to the host. Scythe these good men disdain to come at my commandment, and show their allegiance to the sacred senate of Rome (to th'intent I may punish this their disobedience) I will go unto them myself, Come and go with me. The poor host without any words, taking the censor by the hand, led him to the graves where he had been before, and again with a loud voice cried unto the dead men and said. O ye good men, here is the Roman censor come to speak with you. The censor being angry said to him, what meanest thou by this host? I sent the to call them that are alive, & not those that are dead? the host made answer: o thou Roman judge if thou wert wise, thou wouldest not marvel at that that I have done. For I let the understand, in this our city of Nola all the good men, (all I say) are now dead, and lie here buried in these graves, Therefore thou hast no cause to marvel, nor yet to be disposed with my answer: but I rather ought to be offended with thy demand, willing me to inquire for good men, and thou thyself dost offend with the evil daily. Wherefore I let the know (if thou be ignorant thereof) if thou wilt speak with any good man, thou shalt not find him in all the hole world: unless the dead be revived, or except the gods will make a new creation. The Consul Sylla was five months our captain in this our city of Nola in Campania, sowing the fruit which ye other Romans gathered: that is to say, he left children without fathers, fathers without children, daughters without mothers, and husbands without wives: wives without husbands, uncles without nephews, subjects without Lords, Lords without tenants, gods without Temples, Temples without priests, mountains without herds, and fields without fruits. And the worst of all is, that this cursed Sylla, dispeopled this our city of good and virtuous men: and replenished it with wicked and vicious persons Ruin and decay never destroyed the walls so much, neither the moths ever marred so many garments, ne the worms rotted so much fruits, nor yet the hail beat down so much corn, as the disorder and vices of Sylla the Roman Consul did harm, which he brought unto this land of campania. And although the evils that he did here to the men were many fold great, yet much greater herein was that which he did to their customs and manners. For in the end, the good men which he beheaded are now at rest with the dead: but the vices which he left us. In this land there are none but proud & arrogant men that desire to command. In this land there are none other but envious men that know nought else but malice. In this land there are idle men which do nothing but lose their tyme. In this land there are none but gluttons, which do nothing but eateth. In this land there are none but thieves, which intend nought else but robberies. In this land there are none but rebels, that do nothing but stir sedition. And if thou and all the Romans esteem these men for good, tarry a while I will go to call them all to the. For if we should kill and put in the shambles all the ill men and weigh them as we do the flesh of sheep, or other like beasts: all the neighbours and inhabitants of italy should have meat sufficient to eat. Behold Censor, in this land of Campania they case none good but those which are quiet, sober, wise, and discreet men. They call none good but the patient, honest, and virtuous men. Finally I say that we call none good but those which will do no harm, and will occupy themselves in good works without tears. I speak not that which I will say, that is: if we seek for any of them we shall find none but in these graves. For the just judgement of god it was, they should repose themselves in the intrailles of the earth, whom the public weal deserved not to have alive Thou comest to visit this land where thou shalt immediately be served with the wicked: and to hide their faults, their dissolute life, and their vices, thou shalt not be a little solicited. Believe me if thou wilt not undo thyself & be deceived. Trust thou rather these rotten bones, than their deceitful hearts. For in the end, the examples of the dead that were good do profit men more to live well: than the counsel of the living that be wicked do inter and bury all those that be now living.   

¶ Marcus Aurelius concludeth the letter, and declareth at large the sciences he learned, and all the masters which he had. And in the end he reciteth five notable things, in the observance of which the Romans were very curious. Cap. iii.  
I Have recited these things unto thee, my friend Pulio, to the end thou shouldest know what an infinite number there is of the wicked sort in that world, and how small and scant a number there is in italy of the good, and this proceedeth of none other thing, but because the Fathers do not bring up their children as our ancestors did. It is unpossible a young child should be vicious, if with due correction he had been instructed in virtues. Annius Verus my father in this case deserveth as much praise, as I do reproach. For whiles I was young, he never suffered me to sleep in bed, to sit in chair, to eat with him at his table, neither durst I lift up mine eyes to look him in the face. And oftentimes he said unto me, Marcus my son, I had rather thou shoudest be an honest Roman, than a dissolute Philosopher. Thou desirest me to write unto the how many masters I had, and what sciences I learned in my youth. Know thou that I had many good masters, though I am become an evil scholar. I learned also diverse sciences, though presently I know little, not for that I forgot them, but because the affairs of the empire of Rome excluded me from them, and caused me to forsake them. For it is a general rule, that science in that place is never permanent, where the person is not at liberty. I studied grammar with a master called Euphermon, who said he was a Spaniard borne, and his head was hoar for age. In speech he was very temperate, in correction somewhat severe, and in life exceeding honest. For there was a law in Rome, that the children's masters should be very old: so that if the disciple were .10. years of age, the master should be above fifty. I studied a long time Rhetoric, and the law, under a greek called Alexander, borne in Lycaony, which was so excellent an Orator, that if he had had as great a grace in writing with his pen, as he had eloquence in speaking with his tongue, truly he had been no less renowned among the Grecians, than Cicero was honoured among the Romans. After the death of this my master (at Naples) I went to Rhodes, and heard rhetoric again of Orosus of Pharanton, and of Pulio, which truly were men expert, and excellent in the art of oratory, and especially in making comedies, tragedies, and interludes, they were very fine, and had a goodly grace. Commodus Chalcedon, was my first master in natural Philosophy. He was a grave man, and in great credit with Adrian, he translated Homer out of greek into latin. After this man was dead, I took Sextus Cheronensis for my master, who was nephew to plutarch the great, which plutarch was Traianus master, I knew this Sextus Cheronensis at .35. years of age, at what time I doubt whether there hath been any Philosopher that ever was so well esteemed throughout the Roman empire as he. I have him here with me, and although he be four score years old, yet continually he writeth the Histories and gests done of my time. I let the know, my friend Pulio, that I studied the law .2. years, and the seeking of the laws of many nations was occasion that I knew many antiquities: and in this science Volucius Mecianns was my master, a man which could read it well, and also dispute of if better. So that on a time he demanded of me merrily and said. Tell me Mark, dost thou think there is any law in the world that I know not? and I answered him: Tell me master, is there any law in the world that thou observest? The fift year that I was at Rhodes there came a marvelous pestilence, which was occasion of the dissolution of our school, which was in a narrow and little place, and being there a certain painter painting a rich and excellent work for the Realm of Palestine, I then for a truth learned there to draw and paint, and my master was Diogenetus, who in those days was a famous painter. He painted in Rome .6. worthy Princes in one table, and 6. other tyrannous Emperors in an other. And amongst those evil Nero the cruel was painted so lively, that he seemed a live to all those that saw him: and that table wherein Nero was so lively drawn, was by decrees of the sacred senate commanded to be burnt. For they said that a man of so wicked a life, deserved not to be represented in so goodly a table. Others said that it was so natural and perfect, that he made all men afraid that beheld him, and if he had been left there a few days, that he would have spoken as if he had been alive. I studied the art of Necromancy a while with all the kinds of gyromancye and chiromancy. In this science I had no particular master, but that sometimes I went to hear Apolonius lecture. After I was married to Faustine, I learned Cosmographye in the city of Argeleta, which is the chiefest town of Illyria: and my masters were junius Rusticus, and Cyna Catullus, Chroniclers and counsellors to Adrian my master, and Antonius my father in law. And because I would not be ignorant in any of those things that man's debility might attain to, being at the wars of Dalia I gave myself to music, & was apt to take it, and my master was named Geminus C●modus a man of a quick hand to play, and of as pleasant a voice to sing, as ever I heard Roman tongue prompt to speak. This was the order of my life, and the time that I spent in learning. And of good reason a man so occupied can not chose but be virtuous. But I swore and confess to the that I did not so much give myself to study, but that every day I lost time enough. For youth and the tender flesh desireth liberty, and although a man accustom it with travails, yet he findeth vacant time also for his pleasures. Although all the ancient Romans were in diverse things very studious, yet notwithstanding amongst all over and beside these, there were five things whereunto they had ever a great respect: & to those that therein offended, neither requests availed, rewards profited, nor law (old nor new) dispensed. Truly their good wills are to be commended, and their diligence to be exalted. For the princes that govern great Realms, aught to employ their hearts to make good laws, and to occupy their eyes to see them duly executed throughout the common wealth. These five things wear these.  
1 The first, they ordained that the priests should not be dishonest. For in that Realm where priests are dishonest, it is a token that the gods against the people are angry.  
2 The second, it was not suffered in Rome that the Virginnes vestals should at their pleasure stray abroad. For it is but reason that she which of her own free will hath heretofore promised openly to be good, should now if she change her mind be compelled in secret to be chaste.  
3 The third, they decreed that the judges should be just and upright. For there is nothing that decayeth a common wealth more, than a judge who hath not for all men one balance indifferent.  
4 The fourth was, that the Captains that should go to the wars should not be cowards: for there is no like danger to the common wealth, nor no like slander to the Prince, as to commit the charge of men to him in the field, who will be first to command, and last to fight.  
The fifth was, that they which had charge of bringing up of children should not be vicious. For there is nothing more monstrous and more slanderous, than he that is master of children, should be subject and servant to vices. How thinkest thou my friend Pulio when all these things were observed in Rome? Thinkest thou that the youth was so dissolute as at this present? thinkest thou in deed that it is the same Rome wherein (in times past) were so notable good and ancient men? believest thou that it is that Rome wherein (in the golden age) the old men were so honest, and the children so well taught, the armies well ordered, and the judges and Senators so upright and just? I call God to witness, and swear to the that it is not Rome, neither hath it any likeness of Rome, nor yet any grace to be Rome: and he that would say that this Rome was the old Rome, knoweth little of Rome. The matter was this, that the ancient and virtuous Romans being dead, it seemeth to the gods, that we are not yet worthy to enjoy their houses, So that either this is not Rome, or else we be not the Romans of Rome. For considering the prowess and virtuous deeds of the ancient Romans, and weighing also our dissolute lives: it were a very great infamy for them, to call us their successors. I desire my friend Pulio, to write unto the all these things, to th'end thou mayest see what we were, and what we are. For great things have need of great power, and require a long time before they can grow and come to their perfection: and then afterward at one moment & with one blow they fall down to the ground. I have been more tedious in my letter than I thought to have been, and now I have told the that which with diligence (by reason of my great affairs) in three or four times I have written of that that wanteth in thine and is to much in mine, we shall make a reasonable letter, and since I pardon the for being to brief, pardon thou me also for being to long. I saw the once inquire for unicorns horn in Alexandry, wherefore now I send the a good piece and likewise I send the a horse which in my judgement is good. Advertise me if thy daughter Drusilla be alive, with whom I was wont to laugh, and I will help her to a marriage. The immortal gods keep the O my Pulio, thy wife, thy stepmother and thy daughter, and Salut them all, from me and faustines. Mark of mount Celio Emperor of Rome with his own hand writeth unto the.   

¶ Of the excellency of christian religion, which manifesteth the true God, and disproveth the vanity of the ancients having so many Gods And that in the old time, when the enemies were reconciled in their houses, they caused also that the gods should embrace each other in the Temples. Cap. iiii.  
HE that is the only divine word, begotten of the Father, lord perpetual of the Hierarchies, more ancient than the heavens, Prince of all holiness, chief head from whom all had their beginning, the greatest of all gods, and creatore of all creatures, in the profundnesse of his eternal sapience, accordeth all the harmony and composition of Christian religion. This is such a manner of sure matter, and so well laid, that neither the miseries which spring of thinfections of naughty Christians can trouble, nor yet the boisterous winds of the heretics are able to move. For it were more likely that heaven and earth should both perish, than it should suspend for one day, and that there should be no Christian religion. The ancient gods which were inventors of worldly things, as the foundation of their reproved sects was but a flienge sand, and an unstable ground full of dangerous & erroneous abuses: so some of those poor wretches, looking perhaps like a ship ronning upon a rock, suspecting nothing, were drowned. Other like ruined buildings were shaken in sunder and fell down dead, finally these gods which only bore the name of gods shallbe for evermore forgotten. But he only shallbe perpetual, which in god, by god, & through god hath his beginning. Many and sundry were the multitude of the nations which have been in times past. That is to wit, the Syrians, the Assyrians, Persians', Medians, Macedonians, Grecians, Cythians, Arginians, Corinthians, Chaldeans, Indians, Athenians, Lacedæmonians, Africans, Vandals, Swevians, Allains, Hongarians, Germaignes, Britons, Hebrewes, Palastines, Gentiles, Iberthailides, Maurians, Lucitanians, Goths, and Spaniards. And truly in all these look how great the difference amongst them in their customs and manners was: so much diversity was of the ceremonies which they used, and of their gods which they honoured. For the gentiles had this error, that they said one alone was not of power sufficient to create such a multitude as were created. If I were before all the sages that ever were, they would not say the contrary, but without comparison the gods whom they worshipped and invented were greater in multitude, than the realms and provinces which they conquered and possessed. For by that folly the ancient poets durst affirm in their writings that the gods of one nation and country were mortal enemies to the gods of another province. So that the gods of Troy envied the gods of Grece, more than the princes of Grece, envied the princes of Troy. What a strange thing was it to see the Assyrians in what reverence they worshipped the god Belus. The Egyptians the god Apis. The Chaldeans the god Assas. The babylonians the devouring dragon. The pharaones the statue of gold. The Palestines Belzebub. The Romans honoured the god jupiter. The Africans the god Mars. The Corinthians the god Apollo. The Arabians the God Astaroth. The Arginians the Son. Those of Acaia the Moon. The Cidonians Belphegorn. The Amonites Balim. The Indians Bacchus. The lacedæmonians Osiges The Macedonians did sacrifice to Marcury. The Ephesians to their goddess Diana. The Greeks to juno. The Armenians to Liber. The Troyans' to Vesta. The Latins to Februa. The Tarentines to Ceres. The Rhodians (as saith Apolonius Thianeus,) worshipped the God janus, and above all things we ought to marvel at this. That they strived oftentimes amongst themselves, not so much upon the possessions and signories of Realms, as upon a certain obstinacy they had to maintain the gods of the one, to be of greater power than the others. For they thought if their gods were not esteemed, that the people should be impoverished, unfortunate, and persecuted. Pulio in his second book De dissolatione regionum orientarum, declareth that the first province that rebelled against the Emperor Helius Adrianus (which was the fifteenth Emperor of Rome) was the land of Palestine, against the which was sent a captain named julius Severus, a man of great courage and very fortunate and adventurous in arms. This captain did not only finish the wars, but he wrought such an outrageous destruction in that land, that he besieged 52. cities and razed them to the ground, and burned 680. villages, and slew so many in battle schermidge, and by justice, that amounted to the number of .5000. persons. For unto the proud and cruel captains victory can never be glorious, unless they water the ground with the blood of their enemies. And furthermore in the cities and towns besieged, the children old men and women which died through hunger and pestilence were more in number, than those which were slain in the wars. For in wars the sword of the enemies lighteth not upon all: but pestilence and famine hath no respect to any. After this war of the Palestines was ended, immediately after arose a more crueler betwixt the Allaynes, and Armenians. For there are many that see the beginning of the troubles and miseries which arise in Realms: but there are few that consider the end, and seek to remedy the same. The occasion of this war was, as they came to the feast of the mount Olympus they fell in disputations whither of their gods were better, & which of them ought to be preferred before other. Whereof there sprang such contradictions, and such mortal hatred, that on every part they were furiously moved to wars: and so under a colour to maintain the gods which they honoured, both the common wealths were brought into great poverty, and the people also into much misery. The Emperor Helius Adrianus, seeing such cruel wars to arise upon so light occasion, sent thither the captain above named, julius Severus, to pacify the Allaines and Armenians, and commanded him that he should persecute those with wars, which would not be ruled by his arbitrement and sentence. For those justly deserve the sword, which with no reasonable conditions will condescend unto peace. But julius Severus used such policy that he made them good friends, and never touched them nor came near them. Which thing was no less acceptable to the Emperor, then profitable to the realms. For the captain which subdueth the country by entreaty, deserveth more honour, than he which overcometh it by battle. The agreement of the peace was made upon such condition, that the Allayns should take for their gods the Armenians gods, and the Armenians on the contrary the gods of the Allains: and further when the people should embrace and reconcile themselves to the senate, that then the gods should kiss the one the other, and to be reconciled to the temple. The vanity of the ancients was such, and the blindness of mortal men so great, and so subject were they to devilish devices, that as easily as the eternal wisdom createth a true man now a days: so easily then a vain man might have invented a false god. For the Lacedæmonians had this opinion, that men had no less power to invent gods, than the gods had to create men.   

¶ How the Philosopher Bruxellus was greatly esteemed amongst the ancients for his life, and the words which he spoke unto the Romans at the hour of his death. Cap. v.  
PHarasmaco in his 20. book De libertate deorum (whereof Cicero maketh mention in his book De natura deorum) saith: that when the Goths took Rome and besieged the high capitol, there came amongst them a philosopher called Bruxellus, the which (after the Goths were repulsed out of Italy) remained with Camillus at Rome. And because at that time Rome wanted Philosophers, this Bruxellus was had in great veneration amongst all the Romans, so that he was the first stranger of whom (being alive) a statue was ever made in the Senate. The Romans used to make a statue of the Romans being alive: but not to strangers till after their death. The age of this Bruxellus was 113. whereof .65. he had been an inhabitant of Rome. And among other things they recite .7. notable things of his life. 1 The first, that in .60 years no man ever saw him issue out of the walls of Rome. For in the old time the Sages were little esteemed, if in their behaviours they were not upright.  
2 The second, that in 60 years no man heard him speak an idle word: for the words that are superfluous, do greatly deface the authority of the person. 3 The third, that in all his time they never saw him lose one hour of time. For in a wise man there is no greater folly, then to see him spend a moment of an hour idly.  
4 The fourth, that in all his time he was never detected of any vice. And let no man think this to be a small matter. For few are they of so long life, which are not noted of some infamy after their death.  
5 The fifth, that in all the 60. years he never made quarrel, nor strived with any man: and this thing ought to be no less esteemed than the other. For truly he that liveth a long time without offering wrong to another, may be called a monster in nature.  
6 The sixth, that in three or four years he never issued out of the temple, and in this case this philosopher showed himself to be a good man. For the virtuous man ought not to content himself only to be void of vices: but he ought also to withdraw himself from the vicious.  
7 The seventh & last, that he spoke more often with the gods then with men.  
This philosopher now drawing near to the hour of death, all the Senate came to visit him, and to thank him for that he had lived so long amongst them in so good conversation, & that so willingly he cared and watched for the wealth of Rome. And likewise all the people of Rome were right sorry for his sickness & that they should lose the company of so excellent and virtuous a man. The good philosopher in the presence of them all spoke these words unto the Senate.   

¶ Of that the sage Philosopher Bruxellus spoke to the Senate of Rome, at the hour of his death. Cap. vi.  
SInce you are wise (o worthy senators) me thinketh you should not lament my death, sithence I myself so joyfully do receive it. For we ought not to lament the death we take, but the wicked life we lead. That man is very simple that dreadeth death, for fear to lose the pleasures of life. For death ought not to be feared for loss of life, but because it is a sharp scourge of the wicked life I die (noble Senators) in joy & pleasure: First, because I do not remember that ever I did any evil in all my life, or displeasure to any of the common wealth. And I am certain, that the man which did no evil to men in his life, the gods will do him no harm at the hour of his death. Secondarily I die joyfully, to see all Rome lament the loss of my life. For the man is very wicked and unhappy, whose life the people lament, & at whose death they do rejoice, Thirdly I die joyfully, only to remember that the 60 years which I have been in Rome, always I have travailed for the common wealth. For the just gods told me, that there is no death with pain, but where life is without profit. Fourthly I die joyfully, not so much for the profit I have done to men, as for the service I have done to the gods. For regarding to how many profitable things we employ our life, we may say, we live only the time which is employed to the service of god. ceasing to speak further of my person, I will (worthy Senators) disclose unto you a high secret, which toucheth your common wealth, & this it is. That our father Romulus founded Rome, Numa pompilius erected the high Capitol, Annaeus Marcius enclosed it with walls, Brutus delivered it from Tyrants: the good Camillus drove out the frenchmen Quintus Scicinnatus augmented her power: but I leave it peopled with gods, which shall defend Rome better than walls or men. For in the end, the fear of one god is more worth, than the strength of all men. When I came to Rome it was a confusion to see how it was peopled with men, & unfurnished of gods. For there were but 5. gods, that is to weet, jupiter, Mars, janus, Berecinthia, and the goddess Vesta. But now it is not so. For there remaineth for every one a private god. Me thinketh it an unjust thing that treasouries should be full of gold, & the temples void of gods. As there is 28000 households, so you may account yourselves happy that I leave you 28000. gods: by the virtue of the which I conjure you Romans, that each of you be contented with the god of his house, and have no care to apply to himself the gods of the common wealth. For he that empropreth to himself that which ought to be common to all, is to be blamed of god, and hated of men. This shallbe therefore the order that you shall keep and have towards the gods, if you will not err in their service. That is to understand, ye shall keep the mother Berecinthia, to pacify the ire of the gods, ye shall keep the goddess Vesta, to turn from you the wicked destinies. Ye shall keep the god jupiter, & shall commit unto him the government of your common wealth. And also ye shall keep him for the god above all the gods in heaven and earth. For if jupiter did not temper the ire, which the gods above have against you: there should be no memory of men here beneath in earth. Of other particular gods which I leave you, use your particular profit. But yet notwithstanding in the mean season (Romans) take you heed to yourselves, and if at any time fortune should be contrary, let no man be so hardy to speak evil of the god, which he hath in his house For the gods tell me, that it was sufficient enough, to dissemble with them which serve them not: & not to pardon those that offend them. And do not deceive yourselves in saying that they are private gods, and not able to help themselves. For I let you know, that there is not so little a god, but is of power sufficient to revenge an injury. O Romans, it is reason that all from henceforth live joyfully, and in peace, and furthermore think yourselves assured not to be overcome by your enemies: because now your neighbours of you and not you of them shall desire to borrow gods, and because ye shall see me no more, ye think I must die, and I think because I die. I shall begin to live. For I go to the gods, and leave among you the gods, because I depart.   

¶ How the Gentiles thought that one God was not able to defend them from their enemies, and how the Romans sent throughout all the Empire to borrow gods when they fought against the Goths. Cap. seven.  
IN the year of the foundation of Rome 1164. which according to the count of the Latins was 402. from the incarnation (as Paulus Orosus in the sixth book De machina mundi saith, & Paulus Diaconus in the 12. book of the Roman histories) The goths (which as Spartian sayeth, were called otherwise Gethules, or Meslagethes) were driven out of their country by the Huns, & came in to Italy to seek new habitations, and became natural, & built houses. At this time there was an Emperor of Rome named Valentine, a man of small reputation & courage in wars, and endued with few good conditions, for that he was of Arian his sect. The kings of these Goths were two renowned men, whose names were Randagagismus, and Alaricus. Of the which two Randagagismus was the chiefest and most puissant, and he had a noble mind and a very good wit. He led with him at the least. 2000000. Goths, the which all with him and he with them made an oath, to shed asmuch blood of the Romans as they could, and offer it to their gods. For the barbarous people had a custom, to noint the god (which was at that time in the temple of Venus) with the blood of their enemies whom they had slain. The news of the coming of this cruel tyrant was published throughout all Italy, Whose determination was not only to race the walls of Rome down to the earth, batter towers, dungions, houses, walls, and buildings: but also he purposed to abolish and utterly to bring to nought the name of Rome and likewise of the Romans. Of this thing all the italians were in great and marvelous fear. And the most puissant and courageous knights and gentlemen, agreed togethers to retire within the walls of Rome, and determined to die in that place to defend the liberty thereof. For amongs the Romans there was an ancient custom, that when they created a knight, they made him swear to keep three things.  

1 First, he swore to spend all the days of his life in the wars.  
2 Secoundarely, he swore that neither for poverty nor riches nor for any other things he should ever take wages but of Rome only.  
3 Thirdly, he swore that he would rather choose to die in liberty, then to live in captivity.   
After all the Romans (scattered abroad in Italy) were together assembled in Rome, they agreed to send letters by their pursivantes, not only to their subjects, but also to all their confederate. Th'effect whereof was this.   

¶ Of a Letter sent from the senate of Rome to all the subjects of the Empire. Chap. viii.  
THe sacred Senate, and all the people of Rome, to all their faithful and loving subjects, and to their dear friends and confederates, wisheth health & victory against your enemies. The variety of time, the negligence of you all, & the unhappy success of our adventures, have brought us in prosses of time, that where as Rome conquered Realms, and governed so many strange signoryes, now at this day cometh strangers to conquer and destroy Rome: in such sort, that the Barbarous people (whom we were wont to keep for slaves) swear to become our lords and masters. We let you know now how all the Barbarous nation hath conspired against Rome our mother, and they with their king have made a vow to offer all the Romans blood to their gods in the temples. And peradventure their pride & fyersenes being seen, and our innocency known, fortune will dispose another thing. For it is a general rule, that it is unpossible for a prince to have the victory of that war, which by malice is begun, and by pride and fyersenes pursued. It hath seemed good unto us (since their cause is unjust, and our righteous) to endeavour ourselves by all means how to resist this Barbarous people. For oft times that which by justice was gotten, by negligence is lost. For the remedy of this mischief to come, the sacred senate hath provided these things following: and for the accomplyshing thereof your favour and aid is necessary.  
1 First of all we have determined to repair with all diligence our ditches, walls, gates, and bulwarks: and in these places to arm all our friends. But to accomplish that and divers other for the necessity of warfare we lack money: for ye know well enough that the war cannot be prosperous, where enemies abound, and money is scarce.  
2 secondarily we have commanded that all those which be sworn knights and soldiers of Rome, repair immediately to Rome: and therefore ye shall send to us all those which are under th'age of 50. and above th'age of 20. For in great wars, ancient men for counsel, and young men and lusty to execute the same are required.  
3 Thirdly we have agreed and concluded that the city be provided of victuals, munition, & defence at the least for 2. years. Wherefore we desire ye that ye send us from you the tenth part of wine, the fift part of flesh, and the third part of your bread. For we have all sworn to die, yet we mean not to die for famine, asseged as fearful men: but fight in plain field, like valiant Romans.  
4 Fourthly we have provided (since the unknown barbarous come to fight with us) that you bring us to Rome strange gods to help and defend us. For you know well enough, that since the great Constantine we have been so poor of gods, that we have not but one god, whom the Christians do honour. Therefore we desire you that you will secure us with your gods in this our extreme necessity. For amongst the Gods we know no one alone sufficient to defend all the Roman people from their enemies. The walls therefore being well repaired, and all the young and warlike men in garrison in the city, the batteries well furnished, and the treasure house well replenished with money, & above all the temples well adorned with gods, we hope in our gods to have the victory of our enemies. For in fight with men and not against gods, a man ought always to have hope of victory. For there are no men of such might, but by god and other men may be vainquished. Far ye well. etc. After this letter was sent through all the dominion of the Romans, not tarrying for answer of the same, they forthwith openly blasphemed the name of Christ, and set up idols in the temples, used the ceremonies of the gentiles: & that which was worse then that, they said openly that Rome was never so oppressed with tyrants, as it hath been since they were Christians. And further they said, if they called not again all the gods to Rome, the city should never be in safeguard, for that they had dishonoured and offended their gods, and cast them out of Rome, and that those Barbarous were sent to revenge their injury. But the divine providence which giveth no place to human malice to execute his forces, before the walls were repaired, and before the messaungers brought answer, and before the strange gods could enter into Rome, Randagagismus, king of the Goths, with 2000000. of barbarous (without the effusion of Christian blood) suddenly in the mountains of Vesulanes, with famine, thirst, and stones which fell from heaven, lost all his army, not one left alive but himself, who had his head stricken of in Rome. And this thing the eternal wisdom brought to pass, to th'end the Romans should see that jesus Christ the true God of the Christians had no need of strange gods to defend his servants.   

¶ Of the true and living god, and of the marvels he wrought in the old law to manifest his divine power, and of the superstition of the false gods. Cap. ix.  
O Gross ignorance, and unspeakable obstinacy. O judgements of God inscrutable. What think these gentiles by the true god? They searched the false gods to help them, & had a living god of their own: they sought gods full of guile and disobeyed, and worse than that, they thought it necessary that that God, which created all things should be accompanied with their gods to defend them which could make nothing. Let now all their gods come forth into the fields on the one side, and I will go forth alone in godly company, that is to say with the high god on tother part. And we will compare the deeds and prove the aids of their false God, against & with the least work of our true god. And they shall clearly perceive their falsehood and our truth. For the tongue that speaketh of God can never bear with any lie, and that which speaketh of Idols can never disclose any truth. If they esteem him much for creating the world with his might: is it any less to preserve and govern it by his wisdom? For many things are done in a moment, for the preservation whereof long time is requisite, and much painful travail necessary. I demand further what God of the gentiles could do that which our God hath done? that is to know, within one ark to make quiet the Lion with the leoperd, the wolf with the lamb, the Bear with the Cow, the Tigar with the Cocodryll, the stoned horse with the Mare, the Dog with the Cat, the fox with the Hens, the hounds with the hares, and so of other beasts: whose enmytye is greater th'one against other, then that of man is against men. For thenmity amongs men proceedeth of malice, but that of beasts proceedeth of nature. Also I demand what God (if it were not the true God so mighty) could slay and drown in one hour and moment so many men women, & beasts: so that all those which were in the world (eight only excepted) perrisshed in the deluge of Noy. The judgement of god by ordinance, & their offences deserved this so marvelous a damage. For god never executed any notable punishment, but first it came through our wicked offences. And if this be counted for a great thing, I will that another thing be had in great estimation. Which is, that if god showed his rigorous justice in this punishment, incontinently he showed his might & clemency in remedyeng it, in that of these eight persons (which were but few) the generation did multiply in so great a number that they did replenish many and great Realms. Whereon a man ought to marvel, for according as Aristotle saith, the great things are easily put to destruction and brought to nought, but with great diffyculty they are remedied and repaired again, And further I demand what God of the gentiles was so puissant to do this, which the god of the hebrews did in that ancient and opulent realm of the egyptians? That is to wit, when he would, and when it pleased him, he made the rivers run blood, infected the flesh, darkened the air, dried the seas, & slew the first begotten, obscured the son, and did wonders in Chanaan, & other wondered things in the read sea. Finally he commanded the sea to drown the prince alive with all his egyptians, & that it should let the hebrews pass dry. If one of these false gods had done any one of these things, it had been to be marveled at: but the true god doing it we should not marvel at al. For according to our little understanding it seemeth a great thing, but in respect of that the divine power can do, it is nothing. For where God putteth his hand, there are no men so mighty, no beasts so proud, nor heaven so high, nor sea so deep, that can resist his power. For as he gave them power, so can he take it from them at his pleasure, Further what God of the gentiles (altough they were assembled together) could have had the power to have destroyed one man only, as the true God did? the which in the time of king Zedechias) made an hundredth and four score thousand of the camp of the assiryans die, the hebrews being a sleep which were their mortal enemies. And truly in this case god showed to princes and great lords how little their money, and their subtile wits prevail them in feats of war, when god hath determined another thing for their deserts. For in the end the first invention of wars proceedeth of man's ambition and worldly malice, but the victory of them proceedeth of the divine pleasure. What god of the gentiles could have done that which our true God did? when he brought under the feet of the renowned Captain joshua, two and thirty kings and Realms, whom he deprived not only from their lands, but also bereft them of their lives, in tearing them in pieces, and dividing the miserable realms into 12 Tribes. Those realms (which in old time belonged unto the hebrews) were more than 2000 years kept of them in tyranny: wherefore God would that by the hands of joshua they should be restored. And though god differred it a long time, it was to give them grievous torments, and not for that god had forgotten them. And although princes do forget many wrongs and tyrannies, yet notwithstanding rivers of blood cease not to run before the face of the divine justice. If all the ancient gods had had power, would not they also have helped their princes? since the gods lost no less in losing their temples, than men lost in losing their realms, For it touched more the case of the ancients, to lose one little Temple: then for men to lose a noble Realm We see that the gods of the trojans could not resist the Greeks, but that both men and gods, gods & men came into Carthage, & from Carthage in to Trinacrie, and from Trinacrie into Italy, and from Italy tino Laurentum, and from Laurentum into Rome. So they went about flying, declaring that the gods of Troy were no less conquered of the gods of Greece: then the Dukes and captains of grece, were vanquished of the captains of Troy, the which thing is hard to them that presume to be gods. For the true god doth not only make himself feared: but also beloved and feared both. That we say of the one, the same we may well say of the others. That is to know, that all the gods in the realms and temples, wherein they honoured and served: but we see th'one destroyeth the other, as it is declared by the hebrews which were in bondage of the Assyrians: the Assyrians of the Persians: the Persians of the Macedonians: the Macedonians of the Medes: the Medes of the Greeks: the Greeks of the Penians: the Penians of the Romans': the Romans of the Goths: the Goths of the moors: So that that there was no realm nor nation but was conquered. Neither the writers can deny, but they would have exalted their gods and ceremonies, that the gods & their worshippers should not have end. But in the end both gods and men had all end except the christian religion, which shall never have end For it is founded of that which hath neither beginning nor ending. One of the things which comforteth my heart most in the christian religion, is to see that since the time the churches were founded, the kings and princes most puissant have been always their enemies, and the most feeble and poor, always greatest helpers and defenders of the same. O glorious militaunte church, which now is no other than gold amongst the rust, a rose amongst the thorns, corn amongst the chaff, mary amongst the bones, Margarites amongst the pebble stones, a holy soul amongst the rotten flesh, a Phoenix in the cage, a ship rokking in the raging seas, which the more she is beaten the faster she saileth.  
And there is no Realm so little, nor no man of so little favour but, when other do persecute him, he is by his friends, parents and defendors, favoured and succoured, so that many times those which think to destroy are destroyed: & those which seem to take their part were their chiefest enemies. Doth not that proceed of the great secret of god? For though God suffered the wicked to be wicked a while, god will not therefore suffer that one evil man procure an other to do evil. The Palestines, and those of Jerusalem, had not for their principal enemies but the Chaldeans: and the Caldians had for their enemies the Idumeans: the Idumeans the Assyrians: the Assyrians the Persians, the Persians the Arginians: the Arginians the Athenians: the Athenians had for their principal enemies the Lacedæmonians, and the Lacedæmonians the Sydonians: the Sydonians the Rhodians: and the Rhodians the Scythians: the Scythians the Huns: the Huns had the Alaines: the Alaines the Swevians: and the Swevians the Vandals: the Vandals the Valerians: the Valerians the Sardinians: the Sardinians the africans: the africans the Romans: the Romans the Dacians: the Dacians the Goths: the Goths the Frenchmen: the Frenchmen the spaniards: and the spaniards the moor.  
And of all these realms the one hath persecuted the other. And not all one: but our holy mother the church hath always been oppressed & persecuted with those realms, and hath been succoured of none but of jesus Christ only, and he hath ever succoured and defended it well. For the things that God taketh charge of, although all the world were against them, in the end it is impossible for them to perish.   

¶ How there is but one true God, & how happy those Realms are which have a good christian to their king, and how the gentiles affirm that the good princes after their death were changed into gods & the wicked into devils: which thing the author proveth by sundry examples. Cap. x.  
ALthough the common opinion of the simple people was, that there were many gods, yet not withstanding all the Philosophers affirmed that there was but one God (who of some was named jupiter) the which was chief above all other gods. Others called him the first intelligence, for that he had created all the world. Others called him the first cause, because he was the beginner of all things. It seemeth that Aristotle understood this thing, and was of this opinion, forasmuch as he saith in his .12. book of his metaphysics. All superior and inferior things would be well ordered, and many things much better by tharbitrement of one, then by the advice of many. Marcus Varro in his book De theologia mistica, & Tullius in his book De natura Deorum, although these were gentiles, and curious enough of the Temples, yet they do mock the gentiles which believed there were many gods, & that Mars & M●rcury, and likewise jupiter, & the whole flock of gods (which the gentiles set up) were all mortal men as we are. But because they knew not that there were good nor bad angels, nor knew not that there was any paradise to reward the good, nor hell to torment the evil: They held this opinion, that the good men after their death were gods, and the evil men devils. And not contented with these foolish abuses, the devil brought them into such an error, that they thought it consisted in the Senate's power to make some gods, and other devils. For when there died at Rome any Emperor, if he had been well willed of the Senate, immediately he was honoured for a god: and if he died in displeasure of the Senate, he was condemned for a devil. And to the end we do not speak by favour, but by writing. Herodian saith, that Faustine was the daughter of Antonius Pius, & wife of Marcus Aurelius, which were Emperors the one after the other. And truly there were few either of their predecessors, or of their successors, which were so good as they were, and in mine opinion more better: & therefore was she made a goddess, and her father a god. An Emperor that coveteth perpetual memory, must note 5. things which he should have in his life. That is to say, pure in life, upright in justice, adventurous in feats of arms, excellent in knowledge, and well-beloved in his provinces, which virtues were in these 2. excellent Emperors. This Empress Faustine was passing fair, and the writers praise her beauty in such sort, that they said it was unpossible for her to be so beautiful, but that the gods had placed some divine thing in her. Yet not with standing this added thereunto, it is doubtful whether the beauty of her face was more praised: then the dishonesty of her life discommended.  
For her beauty marvelously amazed those that saw her, & her dishonesty offended them much that knew her. Yet after the Emperor Marcus Aurèlius had triumphed over the Parthians, as he went visiting the provinces of Asia, the goodly Faustine in 4. days died in the mount Taurus (by occasion of a burning fever) and so annealed was carried to Rome. And since she was the daughter of so good a father, and wife of so dearly beloved an Emperor, amongs the Gods she was canonized, but considering her unconstant or rather incontinent lief, it was never thought that the Romans would have done her so much honour. Wherefore the Emperor rejoiced so much, that he never ceased to render thanks unto the Senate. For truly the benefit ought to be acceptable to him that receiveth it, especially when it cometh unlooked for. The contrary came to the death of Tiberius, third Emperor of Rome, which was not only killed and drawn through the streets by the Romans: but also the priests of all the Temples assembled together, and openly prayed unto the gods that they would not receive him to them, and prayed to the infernal furies that grievously they would torment him, saying it is justly required, that the Tyrant which dispraiseth the life of the good in his life, should have no place amongst the good after his death. Leaving the common opinion of the rude people, which in the old time had no knowledge of the true god, & declaring the opinion of Aristole, which called god the first cause: the opinion of the Stoics, which called him the first intelligence: and the opinion of Cicero, which under the colour of jupiter, putteth none other god but him: I say and confess (according to the religion of christian faith) there is but one only God, which is the creator of heaven and earth, whose excellency and puissant majesty is little to that our tongue can speak. For our understanding can not understand, nor our judgement can determine, neither our memory can comprehend, and much less our tongue can declare it. That which princes and other faithful aught to believe of god is, that they ought to know god to be almighty and incomparable, a god immortal, incorruptible, immovable, great, omnipotent, a perfit and sempiternal God: for all man's power is nothing in respect of his divine majesty. I say that our lord god is the only high god, that if the creature hath any good, it is but a mean good. For a man comparing well the good which he possesseth, to the misery and calamity which persecute him: with out doubt the evil which followeth him is greater, than the good which accompanieth him.  
Also our god is immortal and eternal, which like as he had no beginning, so shall he never have ending. And the contrary is to the miserable man, which if some see him borne, others see him die. For the birth of the children, is but a memory of the grave to the aged. Also God only is uncorruptible, the which in his being hath neither corruption nor diminution: but all mortal men suffer corruption in their souls through vice, and in their bodies through worms, for in the end no man is privileged, but that his body is subject to corruption, and his soul to be saved or damned. Also God is no changeling, and in this case though he changeth his work, yet he changeth not his eternal counsel. But in men it is all contrary, for they oftentimes begin their business with gravity, and afterward change their counsel at a better time, and leave it lightly.  
I have now showed you that God only is incomprehensible, the majesty of whom can not be attained, nor his wisdom understanded, which thing is above man's intelligence. For there is no man so sage nor profound, but that an other in an other time is as sage and profound as he. Also God only is omnipotent, for that he hath power not only over the living, but also over the dead: not only over the good, but also over the evil: For the man which doth not feel his mercy to give him glory, he will make him feel his wrath in giving him pain. O ye Princes of this world, truly it is both just and necessary that you acknowledge subjection unto the Prince of heaven and earth, which in the end although ye be great, and think yourselves to be much worth, although that you have much, and can do much yet in respect of the supreme prince you are nothing worth, neither can ye do any thing. For there is no Prince in the world this day but can do less than he would, and would more than he hath. Since all that we have spoken of before is true, let Princes and great Lords see how consonant it is to reason, that sith all the creatures were not created but by one: Why then do they not honour one above all? For as a Prince will not suffer that an other be called king in his realm: so likewise god will not permit that any other be honoured in this world but he only. The father did a great benefit to us, for to create us without the desire of any man: and also the son to redeem & by us without the help of any man, and above all the holy ghost to make us christians without the desert of any man. For all the good deeds and services which we are able to do, are not sufficient to requite the least benefit that he showed unto us. Princes ought greatly to esteem such a gift, that god hath created them men, and not beasts: and much more they should esteem that they are made Lords, and not servants: but most of all they ought to rejoice, that god hath made them christians, and not gentiles, nor moors. For it profiteth them little to have sceptres and realms to condemn, if they shall not acknowledge the holy church, without the which no man can be saved. O divine bounty, how many paynims had been better peradventure than I, if thou hadst chosen them for the church: & if thou hadst made me a paynim, I had been worse than they. Thou leavest them which have served thee, and haste chosen me a sinner which offend the. Lord God thou knowest what thou dost, and where thou art: but I know not what I do, nor what I speak. For we are bound to praise the works of god, and have not the licence to call them back. The Emperors & paynim kings, which have been good and virtuous, (as there hath been many) so much less they have to answer, for that in time of charge they were not called. And likewise the contrary to the wicked christian princes. The more goodness they have received without measure: so much the more torments shallbe given them in eternal fire. For according to the ingratitude which they have showed, for the benefits by them received in this world: so shall the bitterness of their pains be, which they shall receive in hell. Princes are much bound to do well, because they were created of god reasonable men: but they are much more bound, because they be christians, and more than others bound, because they were made mighty, and placed in so high estate, for the greatest power is not for a prince to have and possess much, but to profit much. They do not require of a little and weak tree much, but that he bear his fruit in dew time. For a great and high tree, is bound to give wood to heat them that be a cold, shadow to refresh the very travailours, and fruit to comfort the needy, and also it ought to defend itself from all importunate winds. For the virtuous prince, aught to be a shadow and resting place, where the good may cover themselves being weary. The church doth move us to do many things, and our conscience willeth us to observe more. But if the princes will promise me they will do .2. things only, that is to say, that they will be faithful in the law of god whom they honour, and that they will not use tyranny against their people whom they govern: from henceforth I promise them the glory and felicicie which they desire. For that prince only dieth in safeguard, which dieth in the love of our saviour jesus Christ, and hath lived in the love of his neighbour. Princes and great lords which presume to be good Christians, should watch greatly that all things might be done to the service of god, begun in god, followed in god, and ended in god. And if they will watch in this, I let them know, that as touching the exaltation of faith they should watch so much, that all should know, that for the defence of the same they are ready to die. For if the prince believe that there is pain for the evil, and reward for the good in an other life: it is impossible but that he amend his life, and govern well his common wealth. Think this for a surety, that where the princes fear not god, neither themselves nor their realms can prosper. For the felicity or misery of Realms, proceedeth not of the pains and travails that the kings and people do take: but of the merits which the kings and realms deserve. In great peril liveth that realm, whose prince is an evil christian. Happy & sure is that common wealth, whereof the prince hath a good conscience. For the man that is of a good conscience, will not do any evil thing to the common wealth.   

¶ Of sundry gods which the ancients worshipped, of the office of those gods, how they were revenged of them when they displeased them, and of the Twenty elect gods. Cap. xi.  
THough to men of clear judgement, the works of God are great of themselves, without any comparison to others: yet that the white may be better known from the black, I will satisfy somewhat the curious reader, in reckoning up a flock of false gods, that by them and their power, men shall see how much the princes are bound to the true God. The ancient paynims had gods of diverse sorts, how be if the chief of all were these, which they called Diis electi. They would have said gods of heaven: which gods (as they thought) sometime descended from heaven to earth. These gods were twenty in number: as janus, Saturnus, jupiter, Genius, Marcurius, Apollo, Mars, Vulcanus, Neptunus, Sol, Orcus, Vibar, Tellus, Ceres, juno, Minerva, Luna, Diana, Venus, Vesta. These viii last rehearsed were goddesses, and xii of the first were gods. No man might take any of those as his own God, but as common and indifferent to all.  
Their office was to profit all, I mean all of any one Realm, one province singular, or one noble city. And first note, they had one God whom they called Cantius, whom they honoured much, & offered unto him many sacrifices, to th'end that God might give them wise children. And this if they had demanded of the true God, they should have had reason. For the impostumation of human malice is swelled in such wise, that that man is in great jeopardy, whom God hath not endued with wise judgement. They had also an other Goddess, whom they named Lucina, to whom they did commend women, quick and great with child, to send them safe delivery. And without the walls of Rome, in a street called Salaria, she had a great church, wherein all the Roman women conceived with child, did sacrifice to their goddess Lucina: and as Fronten declareth de Veneratione deorum, there they remained nine days and nine nights, making their vow. Numa Pompilius built the church of this goddess, which was plucked down by the Consul Rutilius, because a daughter of his (great with child) made her vow, and kept her nine Vigilles, and upon more devotion, was desirous to be delivered in the said temple. Such was her mishap, that her delivery was not only evil, but her death was much worse. Whereupon Rutilius in his rage, caused the temple secretly to be burned. For we read many times, that when the gentiles saw they were distressed and in great necessity, they recommended themselves to their Gods: and if they did not then secure them in their necessity, immediately they took from them their sacrifice, bet down their temples, or changed their Gods. And further, the Gentiles had an other god called Opis, which was called the God of the babe new borne even as Lucina was goddess of the mother which bore it. The custom was, that during all the nine months, that the woman was quick with child, she carried the image of the God Opis hanging upon her belly, tied to her girdle, or sowed to her garments, and at the hour of her delivery, the midwife took in her hands the said image, and even in the very birth before herself laid hands upon it, she first of all touched the child with the Idol. If the child were well borne, the parents that day made great oblations to the Idol: but if it were evil or dead borne, strait way the parents of the child did beat the image of the poor God Opis to powder, or else burned it, or drowned it in the river. Also the gentiles worshipped an other God called Vaginatus, and unto him they did great sacrifice, because their children should not weep much: and therefore they carried the image of this god Vaginatus, hanged about their necks, for the Gentiles thought it an evil sign and token, when the Babe wept much in his infancy, he should have very evil fortune in his age. They had also an other God called God Cuninus, him they honoured with sacrifice, to th'end that he should be their Patron for the safety of their children in their cradles. And those which were poor, had the God Cuninus hanged upon the cradle, but the rich had very sumptuous cradles, wherein were painted many gods Cunini▪ Herodian, and Pulio, declareth in the life of Severus, that when the Emperor Severus was in the war against the Gawles', his wife (whose name was julia) was delivered of a daughter, which was her first. And it happened, that a sister of this julia named Mesa (native of Persia, and of the city of Mesa) sent unto her sister at Rome a cradle, all of an unicorns horn, and fine gold: and about the same was painted many images of the god Cuninus. The cradle was of so great value, that many years after it was kept in the Treasury of Rome: Though in deed the Romans kept those things, more for the desire of memory, than for the love of riches. The Romans had likewise an other god, whom they called god Ruminus, which was as much to say, as God of sucking Babes: and to him the matrons of Rome offered diverse sacrifices, to th'end he would keep their breasts from corruption, and give them milk enough for their little children. And all the while they gave the child suck, they had the image of this god about their necks hanging down to their breasts. And every morning before she gave the child suck, the mother sent a dish full of milk to offer to the God Ruminus, and if she happened to be in such place where there was no church dedicated to the God Ruminus, than she bathed her god Ruminus she had with her, in milk. They had also an other God, whom they called God Stellinus, and him they impropered to their children when they began to go. To this god the matrons offered many gifts, that their children might not be lame, Dwarves, nor impotent or decrepit, but that they might be able to go well. For among the Romans, those that were Cripples or Dwarves, were had in such contempt, that they could neither bear office in the Senate, nor be admitted priests in the temples. Hercules in his third book, De repub. saith that Cornelia, (that worthy woman and mother of the Gracchi) had her two first sons, the one lame, and the other a Dwarf. Whereupon supposing the god Stellinus had been wrath with her, she bylte him a Temple in the xii region, near to the fields Gaditanus, amongst the Gardens of Detha, and this temple remained till the time of Randagismus, who besieging Rome, destroyed the Temples, and broke up their gardens about Rome. They had also an other god, called Adeon, and his charged was, that when the child could go well, he should go to his mother and make much of her. And albeit Cicero in his book De natura Deorum, putteth this god amongst the other gods, yet I do not remember that I have ever read that this god had any Temple in Rome till the time of Mammea, mother of the Emperor Antoninus. This excellent woman being left a widow, and with two little children, desiring that they might be well and virtuously brought up, and that they should increase their love towards her, she built to the god Adeon, a sumptuous Temple in the xii region Vaticanus, near to the gardens of Domicilius, and hard adjoining to that also, she erected one other edifice called Sacellum Mammae, where she abode solitarily for a tyme. For the manner and custom at that time was, that all widows (which would bring up their children in good discipline) should immediately sever themselves far from the dangerous pleasures of Rome. The ancients had also an other god called Mentallis, which was in effect god of wit. That is to wite, he had authority and power to give children good or evil sense. And to this god the ancients did great sacrifices, especially the Greeks, much more than the Romans. For as much as Seneca saith, that he doth marvel nothing at all of that the Greeks knew: but that which made him most to marvel, was of that they knew not, since they had the temple of the god Mentallis, within their schools. All the children whom they sent to learn Philosophy, were (by the laws of Athens) bound to serve three years in that temple. And to omit that, which Seneca spoke of the Greeks, I dare boldly say and affirm (to many which at these days are living) that if it be true, he gave sense and understanding to men, that they would to day, rather than to morrow, withdraw themselves to go into those temples, and there offer their vows. For nothing in the world happeneth to men more, than the want of wit and understanding how to govern themselves, & live in quiet. They had also an other God Volunus, and a goddess called Voluna, these two had the charge of affiance in wedlock: and therefore they were two, because the one should help the man, and the other should help the woman. The manner was such, that during the time of their marriage, each of them ware the image of their own god about their necks, and those were of gold or silver. And after they were married, the bridegroom gave unto his spouse the goddess Voluna, and the bride unto her husband the god Volunus. At such times as the consuls were created at Rome, and the kings banished, and before the coming of the Emperors, a little before the Cornelians moved civil commotions in Rome, there was one Consul amongst all these whose name was Balbus. It is said he was the first that builded the temple of Volunus, and Voluna. It did stand in the ninth ward of the city, near unto the gate Corinthia and was called Scripta Balbi. And nigh unto it was an other building called Theatrum Balbi. All the Consuls, Senators, noble and renowned barons, were married in the Temple which Balbus built. That night that Pompey the great married julius Caesar's daughter, there were some that said, that Pompey refused to marry her in the temple of the gods Volunus, and Voluna, whereupon they divined strait that the marriage would not endure long betwixt them. As writeth Publius Victor in his third book De nuptijs antiquorum. The ancient Pagans honoured a god called Agrestes, as much to say, as the god of fields and fruits: to him they offered no sacrifice but twice in the year, that is to weet, in seed time, and in harvest. The Phrygians (that is the Trojans and Sicilians) greatly observed this god Agrestes, and it was for that in those two countries there was gathered such plenty of corn to make bread, that Phrigia was the great garner of Asia, and Trinacria (that was Cicilia) was the corn house of Europe. They had another god called Belus, which was patron of men of war. For even as the Christians (when they come to the point to give the battle) make their prayers unto god: so likewise the ancients in the same point did kneel down, and recommend themselves to god Belus. Livy declareth, that in all other things which were done, and whereof the Roman knights were accused in the battle of Cannas (against Hannibal) was for that they did not recommend themselves at all to the god Belus, when they should give battle, saying the Carthagians remained conquerors, because they a little before honoured the god Mars: & the Romans were vanquished, for that they offered no sacrifice to god Belus. When Pirrus, king of the Epirotes (that is of Albany) came into Italy, and that the Romans were advertised, he brought with him many engines, and subtle inventions for the war, they agreed to build a Temple for the god Belus, within the walls of Rome, in the ninth ward near the gate Carmentalle, & it was named Edes Below, in the front whereof was a marvelous sumptuous and stately pillar, wherein was graven thorder of battle. The Gentiles had another god called the god of victory, to whom the Romans (more than any other nation) did sacrifices, to th'end they might obtain victory of their enemies. Of this god Victoria, there was many magnifical temples in Rome, but the chiefest and the greatest was adjoining to the gate Venia, in the twelve ward, in the place called Della victoria. It was built in the year of the foundation of Rome, four hundredth, three score and seventeen. And it was for thoccasion of the victory, that Appius Claudius, and Quintus Fabius had in Scicill, the first time the Roman people fought against the africans, Herones being king. Of this war and victory, rose the cruel, long, and perilous wars between Rome and Africa. There was another god amongst the gods, whom the ancients called Honorius, which had the charge that the Inkeapers should honour and gently entertain pilgrims, and strangers: so that they should be well handled, through the provinces and realms whereby they passed. And there was a custom in Rome, that ever when any Roman should go any viage, his wife immediately should go to the temple of god Honorius to do her sacrifices. In the fifteen year after that Hannibal passed into Italy, the Romans knew by a prophecy, that as soon as they brought the image of the goddess Berecinthia (mother of all the gods) into Rome: so soon Hannibal should retire out of Italy. And to bring this to pass, the Romans sent their Ambassadors into Phrigia, which is one part of Asia, to th'end they should bring the goddess Berecinthia to Rome. And because their Ambassadors should go well and return safe, and that in coming and going through the Realms, they should entertain them well, and do them honour: they built a temple for the god Honorius within the walls of Rome, in the fourth ward, in a place which they called Forum Transitorium.   

¶ Of other more natural and peculiar Gods, which the ancient people had. Cap. xxii.  
AND because it should not be to tedious a thing, to name all the gods which the Gentiles worshipped, and semblably in whose time and reign they honoured them most, and what Realms were more replenished than others, and furthermore for what causes so many temples, and buildings, were ordained and erected for them: I will make mention only of those Gods, which were called natural Gods, and particular Gods, and declare why the Gentiles honoured them.  
And this only moveth me to it, because those which shall see this my writing may know what a special grace God hath given to them, which are borne in the time of the Christian law. Know you therefore, that the god Esculanus was the god of Mines of gold and silver. Pecunia was the goddess of metals: and they prayed unto her, to give them treasures and riches. Fessoria was the goddess of travaylours and pilgrims: and they prayed to her, that she would not suffer them to be weary that travailed on foot. Pelonia was a goddess which had the charge to drive the enemies out of the land. Esculapius was the god and patron of sick men, and if the malady were great, they called upon the God Apollo, which was father to Esculapius Spinensis was a god whom the ancients prayed to keep the corn from thistles and thorns. Rubigo was a god which kept the Vines from worms, and the corn from locusts. Fortuna was the goddess of good fortune: and to her the ancient wives of Rome made a temple, in the time of Silla and Marius. Muta was the goddess to whom the ancients prayed, that she would not suffer their enemies to speak, when they would speak evil of them. Genoria was a goddess that had the charge to chase slothfulness from them, that recommended themselves to her: and the Greeks honoured her, especially the Philosophers, when they entered into study & universities. Stimula was a gods which hastened them of their business, to th'end they should not forget any thing they had to do. And her image was at Rome over the gate of the Senate house, for she was taken for advocate of the pleaders. Murcia was a goddess and an advocate for men & women, which desired not to be lean nor weak of their bodies, & to this goddess the women of Rome offered many gifts, to the end they might be fat. For in Rome, maidens and women are forsaken because they be lean and slender, and not for that they be foul and fat. Busina properly was a goddess of the fields, and to her the ancients offered sacrifice, because she should look to the grass that grew in the fields. And the Scythians were great worshippers of that goddess, because they had no houses in towns but kept the fields even with their flocks, which if they wanted grass died immediately, and then they were utterly undone. jugatiws was he that was called the god of the high mount, & to him the ancients made a lodge and altars in the top of the highest mountains, whereunto they went oftentimes to do sacrifice, especially when it thundered and lightened. Vallonia was the goddess of the valleys, and she had the charge to bridle the waters that descended from the mountains, to the end they should not endamage the meadows and mills whereby they passed. Ceres was a goddess of all nations honoured, for that she was goddess of corn and of other sovereign seeds: and the ancients had a custom to offer her a loaf of all the seeds and corn that they sowed. Her lodges and altars to do sacrifice were in the fields, but besides those she had a temple in Rome in the ninth ward, in the fields of Mars, hard by the gardens of Lucullus, and it is said that out of this temple came first the fountain of Scipio. Segecia was a goddess that had the charge to make the seeds to grow after they were sown. I do not remember I have read that she had any temple in Rome. Tutillina was a goddess, whose office was to entreat jupiter not to beat down the corn with hailstones when it was ready to be repte. And the ancients painted her in such sort, that it seemed jupiter did cause it to rain stones, and that this goddess Tutilina should gather them all. She had a temple in Rome in the tenth ward, in the market place of Apollo, near unto the house of Romulus. And at every time when it thundered, immediately the Romans lighted a great number of candles in the temple to appease the goddess that she should keep their corn and seed from hurt. Flora was the merciful goddess of the Vines, that preserved them from frost. And those of Capua were great worshippers of this goddess, for they say that they were the first that planted wines in Italy. Matura was a goddess that had the charge to ripe grapes: and the ancients used a custom, to offer the first grapes which were ripe, in the place where the goddess was. And for the more part every man that had wines, made in the field a lodge and an altar to sacrifice unto her. Ruana was a goddess and advocate for them that gathered the corn and other grains, to the end they should do no hurt in cutting away the ear, nor should mar the straw, and that in cutting, the corn should not shake from the ear. And therefore the ancients painted her, holding in her right hand a handful of straw, and the ears were whole. Forculus was the God of Lockesmythes, and the ancients sacrificed him, because he should lock fast the doors, and should not suffer them to be broken open, nor picked, nor adultered keys to be made: the ancients painted this God holding a chain in one hand, and two doors in the other: his image was over the gate of Trigemine, and specially over their doors that had enemies. Limentimen was God of the hammers of the gates. I could not find what the intention was to invent this God, but as I think (not for that I have found it written) they prayed this God that when there should come any enemy of theirs to the house, that he should cause them stumble, and fall before the door, if perhaps by negligence it were left open. Portulus was the god of the gates, and the ancients did paint him with two gates in his hands, and did sacrifice him, because no man should open the gates to the enemies when they slept: and to him the Romans did sacrifice in all the gates of Rome, and those which had enemies, would paint him in the gate of their house. Cardea was a Goddess of the bars & hingies of the gates, and the cause why the ancients did sacrifice to her, was that no man should break the gates, nor lift up the hingies, and that if they went about to put to their hands, immediately the hingies should make a noise to wake the master of the house that he might hear it, and know that his enemies were at the gate. There was another god who was called Silvanus, and he was most honoured among the ancients, especially among all the Romans. This god had the charge to keep those from peril and misfortune that went for their pleasure and recreation to the gardens, as Plynie sayeth in an epistle he wrote to Rutilius. The first that built a temple for the god Sylvanus, was Maecenas, which was in the time of Augustus. And he desired above all other men, to make feasts and banquets in Gardens. This temple was in the eleventh ward, in the field of the goddess Venus, near unto the house of Murcea, which was destroyed in the time of the Emperor Antonius Pius through an earthquake, whereby many buildings and houses fell in Rome. jugatibus was the god of marriages, who had charge to make the love which began in youth, to endure till the old age. It was wonderful to see how the women newly married, went on pilgrimage for devotion unto this god, and what gifts and presents they offered in his temple. Suetonius Tranquillus saith, that there was a Temple of this God, but I find not in writing by whom it was built: saving that Helius Spartianus saith, that the Emperor Heliogabalus found much richesse in the Temple of jugatibus, the which he took away to maintain his wars.  
Bacchus was the God of, drunkards, and the custom in Rome was, that only mad men and fools celebrated the feast of this God, and if there were found any of wit & understanding (were it never so little) they thrust him forthwith out of the Temple, and sought in his stead another drunkard. The Temple of Bacchus was in the tenth ward, in the meadows which they call Bacchanales, without the city, in the way of Salaria, by the Altars of the Goddess Februa, and it was bilte by the Gauls, when they besieged Rome in the time of Camillus. Februa was a goddess for the fevers, and they used in Rome when any was taken with the fever, immediately to send some sacrifice unto her.  
This Goddess had no temple at all, but her Image was in Pautheon, which was a temple wherein all the gods were, and in this place they sacrificed unto her. Pavor was the God of fear, who had the charge to take fear from the Romans hearts, and to give them stout courage against their enemies. The Temple of this god Pavor was in Rome, in the sixth ward, in the place of Mamuria, near the old Capitol: and ever when they had any enemies, the Romans forthwith offered in this place sacrifices, and there was in the same temple a statue of Scipio the African all of silver, which he offered there when he triumphed over the Carthagians.  
Meretrix was the goddess of dishonest women, and as Publius' Victor saith, there was in Rome forty streets of comen women, in the midst whereof the temple of this Meretrix was. It chanced in the time of Ancus Martius (the forth king of the seven Roman Kings) that there was in Rome a courtesan, native of Laurento, which was so fair, that with her body she gained great riches, whereof she made all the Roman people partakers. Wherefore in memory of her the Romans bilt there a temple, and made her Goddess of all the common women in Rome. Cloatina was Goddess of the stool, and to this goddess all those commended themselves which were troubled with the colic, to th'end she would help them to purge their bealies. Quies was the goddess of rest, and to her the Romans did great sacrifices, because she should give them pleasure and rest, especially one that day, when there was any triumph in Rome, they gave in this Temple many gifts, because she should preserve the glory and joy of the triumphs. Nunia Pompilius (second King of the Romans) built the temple of this Goddess, and it was without the city, for to note that during the life of man in this world, he could neither have pleasure nor rest. Theatrica was a goddess, that had the charge to keep the Theatres & Stagyes, when the Romans celebrated their plays: and thoccasion of inventing of this Goddess was, because when the Romans would set forth their tragedies, they made so solemn theaters, that there might well stand xx. thousand men above, & as many underneath for to behold the spectacle. And sometime it happened, that for the great weight of them above, the wode of the theaters and stages broke, & killed all those which were underneath: & so after this sort all their pastime turned into sorrow. The Romans (which were provided in all things) agreed to do sacrifice unto the Goddess Theatrica, to th'end she should preserve them from the dangers of the theatres, and built her a temple in the ninth ward, in the Market place of Cornelia, near to the house of Fabii Domitian the xii. Emperor of Rome destroyed this Temple, because in his presence one of the theatres broke, and killed many men. And for that the goddess Theatrica did not preserve them, he made the Temple to be beaten down. Peradventure those that have red little shall find these things new enough: but let them read Cicero, in his book De natura Deorum: john Bocchas, of the genealogy of gods: and Pulio of the ancient Gods: and Saint Augustine in the first, xi. and the xviii. book of the city of God, and they shall find a great number more than is spoken of.   

¶ How Tiberius the knight was chosen governor of the empire, and afterwards created Emperor, only for being a good Christian. And how God deprived justinian the younger, both of his empire and senses for being an heretic. Cap. xiii.  
THe fifty Emperor of Rome, was Tiberius Constantinus, who succeeded justinian the younger which was a cruel Emperor. And Paulus Diaconus sayeth, that he was an enemy to the poor: a thief to the rich, a great lover of riches, and an enemy to himself in spending them. For the property of a covetous man is to live like a beggar all the days of his life, and to be found rich at the hour of his death. This justinian was so covetous, that he commanded coffers and chests of iron to be made, and brought into his palace to keep the treasures which he had rob. And of this you ought not to marvel, for Seneca saith, that covetous Princes do not only suspect their subjects, but also themselves. In those days the church was greatly defiled, by the heresy of the Pelagians, and the maintainer of that sect was this wicked Prince justinian: so that for himself he procured riches, and for the Devil he cheapened souls. For those that are once forsaken of the hand of God, do not only become servants of the devil, but also labour to allure others to hell. Wherefore sith the sins of men are diverse, and the judgements of God kept secret, and that yet the living God is so merciful, that not with standing his mercy would save the souls, he will also with justice chastise the bodies. And therefore seeing the obstinacy of this Emperor to be such that the longer he lived the more he augmented his damnation, the wrath of God lighted upon him, and suddenly with out any grudge or token of sickness, this Emperor justinian was derrived of his senses & became a fool: & because the matter was so sudden, it caused in Rome great fear, and admiration, for that the Prince was a fool, and all the Empire changed. And in deed This Emperor was so stricken, that his life and folly ended both in one day. For the diseases which God sendeth to Princes, cometh not through fault of humours, but through the corruption of manners. Also there is no medicine that can resist it, nor yet any other thing that can remedy it. The people perceiving how the Emperor through his sins was (according to the divine pleasure) become a fool, agreed (sith there was no remedy for his disease) to choose some good person to whom the charge of the public weal might be given. For truly a man needeth greater patience and wisdom to govern another man's, then for that which is his own proper. The lot befell to a knight Tiberius so called, a man for a truth both chaste, just, profitable, sage, virtuous, hardy, merciful, charitable, in feats of arms adventurous, and above all a good Christian. And let not this thing be little regarded that the Prince be a good Christian. For there is no state so happy as that, which is governed by a Prince of a good and faithful conscience, and because he wanted no virtues to adorn a Prince, he was both feared of many, and beloved of all. Which thing ought not lightly to be esteemed, for it is the chiefest thing that belongeth to Princes, that is to weet, for their gentle conversation to be beloved, and for their upright justice, to be feared. This Emperor justinian had a wife, whose name was Sophia Augusta, which was beautiful and sage, and as touching her person, of good renown sufficient. For women must take great respect, lest they give strangers occasion to speak of them, but notwithstanding all these things, this dame was noted of covetousness. For she toiled always to hourde up money, and delighted to see and tell it, but to spend or give it, was always her greatest grief. For covetous parsons little regard to shorten their life, so that they may augment their riches. Tiberius Constantine, as governor of the Empire (seeing the Empress Sophia Augusta rich, and desiring more the profit of the common wealth, than the enrychement of himself or of any other) did nothing else but build monasteries, repair hospitals, mary Orphans, and redeem captives. For speaking according to the Christian laws, that that a man hath more than necessary, ought to be employed to the use of the poor, and to works of mercy. Finally this virtuous prince did that which Christian Princes should do, and not as tyrants do, which made him of great excellency. For the property of a tyrant is to heap great treasures of other men's goods, and afterward to spend and consume them viciously: but Tiberius found them gathered together by one and he dispersed them to many: Sophia Augusta, seeing justinia become a fool, and not knowing how to get more money of the people, nor how to rob the rich, and that Tiberius spent her riches without compassion, partly to satisfy her sorrowful heart, & partly to see if in time to come she could remedy it, called one day Tiberius a part & spoke unto him these words in secret.   

¶ Of the words the Empress Sophia spoke unto Tiberius Constantinus then being governor of the Empire, which only tended to reprove him for that he lavishely consumed the treasure of the Empire gotten by her. Cap. xiiii.  
Thou remember'st well Tiberius, that though thou art now after justinian governor of the Empire: yet when thou waste in Alexandrie, thou thoughtest little to deserve it, and if thou didst, thou thoughtest thou couldst not attain unto it. For thou art a wise man, & the sage man (according to the little or much which fortune giveth him) doth rain or slack always the bridle of his thoughts. Those which have a vain hope, and thorough power only will enforce fortune to be favourable unto them, shall live always a troublesome life.  
For there is nothing that shorteneth more the life of man, then vain hope, and idle thoughts. Thou being such a man as thou art, and so well willed and beloved of justinian my husband, art demanded of the Roman people, and chosen by the Senate, received by the soldiers, and all the Empire rejoice at thy election.  
And thou oughtest not a little to regard it. For the wills of all do not always favour one. I let the to understand Tiberius, that it did not displease me thou shouldest be Emperor of Rome, sith justinian was deposed: and if I had perceived that which I do perceive, or had known that which I do know, I am certain that I had neither said with it nor against it. For we women are of so little credit, that it prevaileth us more to approve the least of that which other say, than it doth to speak very well our selves. Sith fortune hath brought the to so high estate, I beseech thee, admonish thee, and advise thee, that thou know how to keep and govern thyself therein. For to arise to honour, it sufficeth the body to sweat water: but to maintain it, it is necessary that the heart weep blood. Thou knowest right well, that to command more, to do more, and to have more than other (as touching the affairs of Princes) oftentimes is given more thorough worldly care, then for the desert of the person. And this God suffereth very oft, to the end we may see those descend and fall through infamy: whom we saw mount and prosper by pride. Thou art a man, and I a woman, Thou hast wisdom and knowledge, but I have large and long experience, and if thou knowest much, I have seen in the world enough, but in faith for that I have said I tell thee, that men of thy sort are undone in the palace of princes by 2. ways. The one, if they think they deserve much, and they can do little. For haughty minds bring always alteration in the heart. The other is, that one alone will command the Emperor and the empire: whereunto if any man come, it is by great travail, and he shall sustain it with danger, and shall possess it but a short time. For it is impossible that to a man of much arrogancy, fortune should be to long faithful.  
Though thou be wise and sage, I counsel the always to profit with an other man's counsel, chiefly in things concerning the government of the state. For to know to obey, and to know to command differ much.  
For to know to obey, cometh by nature: but to know to command, cometh by long experience. Take this of me for a general rule, that whereas thou seest they prayer to be acceptable, never take upon the commandment: for by commandment thou shalt be feared, and by prayer thou shalt be beloved. Know thou Tiberius, the things that content them worst, which are in the court of Princes: are to do little, to have little, & to be little worth.  
For the man that is without favour, in his heart is half dead. For the contrary, the thing which most perilleth the favoured of Princes & maketh them lose their friendship, is to be of great power, and great in authority, & more over than this, to profit more of will then of knowledge, of authority than of reason. For a man can not live long in friendship, which doth what he will in the common wealth. I have spoken all this to th'end thou shouldest know that I greatly marvel at thy prudence, and have no less wonder of my patience. To see that the treasures which justinian heaped together by great travail, kept and preserved with great care, thou wastest without respect what thou dost. And do not marvel at this: For there is no patience can suffer to see the proper gods wasted and spent by the hands of an other, which with so great care hath been gathered together. I let the know Tiberius, that now we have neither money to keep, nor to give to others, which thing is very perilous for the palace of Princes. For the fame to have great treasures, causeth Princes to keep their enemies in fear. It is necessary for princes to be stout, and also rich, for by their stoutness they may govern their own, and by their riches, they may repress their enemies. It is not only necessary that the Prince be not poor, but also it is requisity that his common wealth be rich. For where the people are poor, of their enemies they are nothing regarded: and where the common wealth is rich, the Prince can not be greatly poor. I will not denay but that it is well done to help the poor, and secure the needy. But yet I say, that no man ought to give the treasure to any one particularly, which is kept for the preservation of al. For oftentimes the prince which is to liberal in giving his own, is after wards through necessity compelled to be a Tyrant, and take from others. I let the wit Tiberius, that thou shalt find few Princes but are proud, maglignaunt, or vicious. For of a troth wantonness, liberty, youth, and riches, are cruel enemies to honesty, I will not say that all princes have been evil, but I will say there hath been but few good, and those which are or will be good, aught to be greatly honoured. For no time ought to be called happy, but that wherein virtuous Princes do reign.  
And I say to the further Tiberius, if Princes become Tyrants for want of riches, so do they become vicious through abundance of treasures, and in this case, vicious princes are chastened in the same vice. For avarice hath such power over them, that it suffereth them not to taste their own delight.  
And I let the wit Tiberius, that there are many Princes which are of good nature, and yet become Tyrants, for nothing else but because they be oppressed with poverty .. For truly the noble heart refuseth no danger, seeing himself assaulted with poverty.  
Therefore I demand of the which is better, or otherwise which of these two evils is least: that the Prince be poor, and with that a tyrant: or that he be rich, and therewith vicious.  
In mine opinion it were much better to be rich and vicious, than a tyrant and poor: for in the end if he do evil by vice, he should be evil to no man but to himself: by riches he should profit all the people. And if he be poor and a tyrant, he should do great evil to many, and by poverty he could profit no man. For the poor prince cannot maintain the rich, and much less secure the poor, without comparison it is more profitable to the common wealth, and more tolerable to men, that the Prince be an evil man, and therewithal a good prince: than an evil Prince, and therewithal a good man. For as Plato saith, the Athenians would always rather seek a profitable, than a stout Prince: and the Lacedæmonians did err, in willing rather a stout Prince then profitable. Therefore see Tiberius, it is more sure and profitable for the common wealth, that Princes have treasures to give lyberalye among their servants: then that they should be poor and enforced to oppress their people with taxes and subsidies. For princes oftentimes through poverty, take occasion to levy great subsedies in their realms and signories.   

¶ The answer of Tiberius unto the Empress Sophia Augusta: Wherein he declareth that noble Princes need not to hoard up great treasures: And of the hidden treasure this good Emperor found by revelation, in the Palace where he remained. Cap. xv.  
Tiberius' heard very patiently the admonition of the Empress, wherefore with great reverence he answered, and with sweet & gentle words he spoke to her in this sort. I have heard and understood what you have told me (most noble Princess Sophia, always Augusta): and do receive your gentle admonitions, most humbly thanking you for your loving counsel, which principally you give me in so high a style. For oftentimes sick men abhor meats, not for that the meats are not good, but because they are not well dressed. If it were gods pleasure, I would I knew aswell how to do these things, as you know how to speak them. And do not marvel though I make hereof a doubt, for we greatly desire to praise virtuous works: but to put them in ure we are very slow. Speaking therefore with such reverence (as is due unto so high a Lady) to every one of these things which your excellency hath told me, I will answer in one word. For it is reason, sith you have spoken that which you perceive of my deeds: that I speak that which I gather of your words. You tell me that when I was in Alexandrie I thought not to be governor of the empire after justinian, and that I thought not myself worthy to deserve it, nor yet looked to come unto it. To this I answer, that though by reason I governed myself at that time, yet I ought not to think to deserve such a dignity, nor to come to so high an estate. For those which by virtues deserve great dignities are but few: and fewer are those which attain unto them though they deserve them. But if this matter be judged according to sensuality, I tell you truly (dame Augusta,) that I thought not only to deserve it, but also I thought to come unto it. And hereof marvel not, for it is an unfallible rule, where least desert is, there is most presumption. You say you esteemed me for a wise man, and that by wisdom I could overcome any disordinate appetite. To this I answer, that you knew my wisdom either in mine own business, or else in other men's affairs. If in other men's affairs, (where it did coast me nought) I was always a lover of justice. For there is no man in the world so evil, that doth not desire (if it be without his own coast) to be counted liberal. But if you judge me (Dame Augusta) on mine own business, give not to light credit. For I will that you know, there is no man so just, nor of so clear a judgement, that doth not show himself frail in matters which touch his own interest. You say that men which have their thoughts high, and their fortune base, live always a pensive life. Truly it is as you say. But in mine opinion, as the membres of the bodies are but instruments of the mind, so is it necessary for men to have quick and sharp wits, if they will not be negligent. For if Alexander, Pyrrus, julius Cesar, Scipio, and Hannibal, had not been high minded, they had not been (as they were) so noble and stout Princes.  
I let you understand, most noble Princess, that men are not lost for having their thoughts high, nor for having their hearts courageous, neither for being hardy and stout: but they are undone, because they begin things through folly, pursue them without wisdom, and achieve them without discretion.  
For noble men enterprising great things, ought not to employ their force as their noble heart willeth, but as wisdom and reason teacheth. You say, you marvel why I wast the treasures without care, which justinian and you gathered togethers with great pain. To this I answer, you ought not to marvel if all the treasures you heaped together of so long time, were spent and consumed in one day. For there is an ancient malediction on riches hid, and treasures buried, which Epimenides casteth out saying these words. All the treasures hurded up by the covetous, shall be wasted by the prodigal. You say through that I wast in few days, you shall have neither to give, to waste, nor yet to eat at the years end. To this I answer most gracious princess, that if you had been as ready to relieve the poor, as you & justinian were diligent to rob the rich: than you should justly have complained, and I worthily might have repent. Till now we have not seen, but that of the rich you have made poor, & notwithstanding this, yet you have not gotten enough to build an Hospital for the poor. You say the Princes to resist their enemies have need of great treasures. To this I answer, if Princes be proud, greedy, and of strange realms ambitious, it is most certain that they need great treasures to accomplish their disordinate appetites. For the end of a tyrannous prince is, by hook or by crook to make himself rich in his life. But if the Prince be or will be a man reposed, quite, virtuous, patient, peaceable, and not covetous of the good of an other man, what need hath he of great treasures? For to speak truly, in princes houses there is more offence in that that advanceth, then in that that wanteth. I will not waste many words in answering, sith I am much more liberal of deeds then of words: but I conclude, that there is no Prince which in virtuous deeds wasteth so much, but if he will, he may spend much more. For in the end, princes become not poor spending their goods upon necessaries: but for wasting it upon things superfluous. And take this word for all, that for this he shall not be the poorer, but rather the richer: For it is a general rule in Christian reglion, the god will give more to his servants in one hour, them they will waste in 20. years. justinian was Emperor .11. years, who (being a fool, and obstinate in the heresy of Pellagien) died to the great offence of the Roman people, whose death was as much desired, as his life abhorred. For the tyrannous prince, that maketh many weeping eyes in his life, shall cause many rejoicing hearts at his death. justinian being dead, Tiberius was elected Emperor, who governed the empire through so great wisdom and justice, that no man was able to reprove him if the histories in his time did not deceive us. For it seldom happeneth to a prince to be as he was, upright in justice, pure in life, & clean in conscience. For few are those princes which of some vices are not noted Paulus Diaconus in his 18 book of the Romain gests, declare a thing marvelous which be fell to this emperor at that time, and very worthy to know at this present. And it is, that in the City of Constantinople the Roman Emperors had a palace very sumptuous, and dreaming the authority of the imperial majesty, which was begun in the time of Constantine the great, and afterwards as the succession of good or evil Emperors was, so were the buildings decayed or repaired. For it is the deed of a virtuous Prince, to abolish vices of the common wealth, and to make great and sumptuous buildings in his country. This Emperor Tiberius had spent treasures to redeem poor captives, to build hospitals, to erect monasteries, to marry and provide for the Orphans and widows, in this he was so prodigal, that it came almost to pass that he had nothing to eat in his palace. And truly this was a blessed necessity. For catholic Princes ought to think that well employed, which in the service of Christ is bestowed. And hereof the Emperor was not ashamed, but thought it a great glory, and that which only grieved him was, to see the Empress rejoice so much at his misery. For the high and noble hearts which feel themselves wounded, do not so much esteem their own pain, as they do to see their enemies rejoice at their grief. God never forsook them that for his sake became poor, as it appeareth by this: It chanced one day that even as the Emperor Tiberius walked in the midst of his palace, he saw at his feet a marble stone, which was in form of the cross, of the reademer of the world. And because it had been to unjust a thing (as he thought) to have spurned that with his feet, wherewith we trust from our enemies to be defended: he caused the stone to be taken up, (not thinking any thing to be there under) and immediately after they found an other, wherein likewise was the form of the cross, and this being taken up, they found an other in like manner, and when that was plucked up from he bottom, there was found a treasure which contained the some of 2. millions of Ducats, for the which the good Emperor Tiberius gave unto all mighty god most high thanks, and whereas before he was liberal, yet afterwards he was much more bountiful: For all those treasures he distributed amongst the poor and needy people. Let therefore mighty princes, and great lords see, read, and profit by this example, and let them think themselves assured, that for giving alms to the poor, they need not fear to become poor: for in the end the vicious man cannot call himself rich, nor the virtuous man can count himself poor.   

¶ How the Chefetaine Na●setes overcame many battles, only for that his whole confidence was in god. And what happened to him by the Empress Sophia Augusta: wherein may be noted the unthankfulness of Princes towards their servants. Cap. xvi.  
IN the year of the incarnation of Christ. 528 (justinian the great being Emperor, who was the son of justines' sister his predecessor in the Empire) the histories say, in especially Paulus Diaconus in the 18. book Degestis Romanorum: that there was a knight of Greece in Rome, who from his tender years had been brought up in italy. He was a man of mean stature of a choleric complexion, and in the Law of Christ very devout, which was no small thing. For at that time not only many knights, but almost all the Bishops of italy were Arrians.  
This knights name was Narsetes, and because he was so valiant in arms and so adventurous in wars: he was chosen Chefeteyne general of the Roman Empire. For the Romans had this excellency, that when they had a valiant and stout captain (although they might have his weight of gold given them) they would never departed from his person. He enterprised so great things, he overcame such mighty realms, and had such notable victories over his enemies, that the Romans said he had in him the strength of Hercules, the hardiness of Hector, the nobleness of Alexander, the policy of Pirrus, and the fortune of Scipio. For many of the vain gentiles held opinion, that as the bodies did distribute their goods in the life: so did the soul's part their gifts after the death. This Narsetes was a pitiful captain, and very constant in the faith of Christ, liberal to give alms, effectuous to build new monasteries, and in repairing churches a man very careful. And truly it was a rare thing. For in great wars (upon small occasions) captains use to beat down Churches, and that which was greatest of all, was the he served god devoutly, visited the hospitals, said his devotions with great tears, and above all, resorted very oft to the church in the night, And this excellency was no less than the other. For that captains in such an hour, are readier to kill men in their camp then to be wail their sins in the church. Finally he was a christian and so devout, that god gave him the victories more through the prayers which he used, than through the weapons wherewith he sought. For there was never man that saw him shed the blood of his enemies in battle, before he had shed the tears of his eyes in the temple. And to the end Christian princes and captains may see how much better it is▪ to pacify god by tears and prayers, then to have their camp full of soldiers and riches, of many of his doings I will declare part as here followeth.  
justinian the Emperor being in alexandria, Totila king of the Goths, did many mischiefs and great damages through out all Italy, so that the Romans durst not go by the way, nor could be in safeguard in their houses. For the Goths in the day kept the ways, and in the night rob and spoiled all the people, wherefore justinian the Emperor not knowing the matter, sent the noble Narsetes as captain general against the Goths, who being arrived in italy immediately confedered with the Lombard's, the which at that time had their mansion in Hungary, and sent his messengers to king Alboinus, (at that time their king) for aid against the Goths, and in so doing he said he should see how faithful a friend he would be to his friends: and how cruel an enemy to his enemies. Alboinus hearing the message of Narsetes was very glad, and without delay immediatlly armed a great & puissant army, which by the Adriaticale sea came into Italy: so that the answer and the offer came both at one time with effect, and so together arrived in one day (for the succour of Narsetes) the 2. armies: that is to say, that of the Romans and of the Lumbards', the which assembled all in one & marched under the banner of their captain Narsetes. Wherefore Totila, king of the Goths being advertised, (as one that had not proved the happy fortune of Narsetes, nor the force of the Lombard's) sent to offer them the battle, which was given in the fields of Aquileia: and it was of both parts so fierce and cruel, that infinite were they that died: but in the end Totilla king of the Goths was overcome, and neither he nor any of his host escaped alive. The good captain Narsetes, after the battle gave many & noble gifts to the Lombard's, and so with riches and victory, they returned into Hu●●●rie towards their king Alboinus. And truly this Narsetes did as he was bound to do. For the friend cannot be recompensed by riches, when for his friend he putteth his life in jeopardy. When the Lombard's were gone, Narsetes caused all the spoil of his camp to be divided amongst his soldiers, and that which belonged unto him, he gave it wholly to the poor monasteries: so that by this victory Narsetes got triple renown. That is to weet, very bountiful in that he gave to the Lombard's, charitable in that he gave to the poor, and valiant in that he vanquished so puissant enemies. Dagobert king of France beyond the alpes, being a courageous young Prince, and very desirous of honour (for no other cause but to leave of him some memory) determined himself in parson to pass into Italy, although he had no just title thereunto. For the hearts puffed up with pried little pass though they war of an unjust quarrel. His myshape was such, that the same day he passed the river of Rubico (where the Romans in old time limyted the marches of italy) news came to him that his own country was up, and those which were there, one rebelled against the other, the which was not without the great sufferance of God. For it is but reason that that king should lose his own realm by divine justice, which will take other men's only through man's folly. The king Dagobert assembling all the chiefest of his realm to counsel, it was agreed and concluded by all, that he alone in person should return into France, and for his reputation should leave all the army in Italy. Whereof remained captains, Buccelinus, and Amingus. For it is better for a prince to defend his country by justice, then to conquer another by tyranny. As this army of Buccelinus was great, so was he courageous, and wrought many & great damages in Italy, especially in the land of Campagnia. And worse than that, all the riches that he had sacked, & all the captives he had taken, he would neither restore nor yet suffer them to be raunsommed: but so soon as he took them he sent them unto the king, as one that showed himself more desirous to rob and spoil, then to fight and wage battle. This captain Buccelinus then being in Campagnia, retired into a place called Tarentum with all his army because of winter, Narsetes suddenly came upon him & gave him battle, That was between them very cruel, wherein Buccelinus was vanquished and left dead in the field, amongst the other captains of the Gauls. Which news brought to Amingus ears being the other captain of the Gauls, And seeing his companion dead, he confedered with Auidinus captain of the Goths, & they together came against the Romans (which thing was not unknown unto Narsetes) to give the battle, near to Gaietto whereas those captains were conquered and taken alive. Of whom Amingus was beheaded by the commandment of Narsetes: and Auidinus was sent by him prisoner to the emperor to Constantinople. The captain Narsetes wan another battle against Syndual, king of Brytons, which came into italy with a huge multitude of people to recover the Realm of Partinopolis, which now we call Naples, for he said it appertained unto him of right, as to one of the lineage of Hercules, who in ancient time was king of that Realm. This king Synduall within a while became friend unto Narsetes, and behaved himself outwardly as a friend and confederate: but in secret, conspired against the Romans, and would have been king of the Romans, and reigned alone in italy: through the which there sprang between him and Narsetes cruel wars, wherein fortune was a long time variable. For there is not so adventurous a captain, to whom in long wars fortune is always prosperous. Finally the king Syndual and Narsetes, agreed to hazard their men, and also their lives in one day unto the discretion of fortune, so that both the armies joined together, and fought between Verona, & Trento, where king Syndual was conquered, and taken alive, and the same day without any delay was hanged openly. And because that Narsetes was not accustomed to use such cruelty against those that were overcome, & especially against kings and worthy Knights, he commanded his title to be set on the gibbet, whereon the king hanged, which said this.  
¶ A simple cord, here stopped king Synduals' breath.  
By faultless doom, of high Narsetes hest.  
Not that he sought, by warlike deeds his death.  
But that in peace, he did a Traitor rest.  
Such and many other battles and victories had this adventurous and good captain, not only in the borders of italy, but also in Asia, where for many years he had the government of the country. And as he was a good christian, so almighty god in all his affairs did prosper him. After all these wars past, justinian the younger sent him to the kingdom of constantinople, to be chief governor of all those provinces, and although he did well in warlike affairs: yet he did much better in the administration of the common wealth. For men that are accustomed to travail in wars, have a good learning how to govern the people in peace. For this occasion (amongst all mortal men) Narsetes was praised and esteemed, that is, for his valiantness in the battles which he overcame, for his riches through the spoils that he took, and for the justice he ministered to all men where he ruled. Narsetes because he was a Grecian borne was envied of the Romans, & chief because he daily increased both his honour and riches. For truly virtue, honour, & riches in a man, are but a brand to light envy to all the world. And thus was the case. One day there came many noble Romans to the emperor justinian, & to the Empress Sophia Augusta, to complain of Narsetes, and of his behaviour & governing, & said these words unto them. We let you to wit, most noble prince, & sovereign lady, that we had rather (of the two) to serve the Goths, then to obey the Greeks: & we speak this, because that the Eunuch commanded us more to his own service, than he doth to that of yours, and the worst is that you know it not, & if you know it, at the lest you do not remedy it. Chose therefore one of these two things, whether you will deliver us from the government of the greek, or suffer that we put Rome & ourselves into the hands of the Goths. For it is less grief for the Romans, to be subject to a puissant king: then to an effeminate Eunuch, & a tyrant Narsetes being present, hearing these quarrels) as they say) said thus. O noble prince, if I have committed any evil, it is unpossible for me to find one that will do me good: but if I have done well, no man shallbe able to do me wrong. The empress Sophia of long time before had hated Narsetes, some said it was because he was an Eunuch, other think it was because he was rich, & some other judge because he was in greater authority in the empire than she. Wherefore perceiving she had good occasion, & opportunity for the same, she spoke a word much to his reproach: which was this. Sith thou art an Eunuch Narsetes, & not a man, it is not fit for the to have a man's office: therefore, I command the to work with my handmaidens, and there thou shalt serve to spin and weave clothes, Narsetes took this word heavily, & truly it was with great spite spoken. Wherefore he stoutly & courageously spoke unto the Empress Sophia these words, & said: I had rather (most excellent Princess) thou hadst chastised me as a noble dame, then to have reproved me with a word as a simple woman: but since it is so that you have liberty & authority to command me, know you also, that I have the self same to obey you, and therefore I take my leave, & now I go to weave my web which perhaps yourself whilst you live, shall never untwine. Narsetes immediately went his way & came into italy, into the city of Naples (chief and head of Campagnia) and from thence he depeached his ambassadors immediately to the king of Hungary (where the Lombard's at the time had their mansion place) counseling them to forsake that land, so evil tilled, so barren, cold and little, & that they should come & inhabit italy, which was a plain country, fartile & ample, temperate & very rich, and that now or never they should conquer it. And Narsetes therewith not contented (but to provoke his friends the more, & make them the more covetous) sent them part of every good thing that was in Italy, that is to weet, light horses, rich armour, sweet pleasant & dainty fruits, fine metals, & many kinds of ointments very odiferous, silks & merchandises of many & divers sorts. The ambassadors arrived in Panony (which now is called Hungary) were honourably received, & the Lombard's seeing that there were such, & so many goodly things in Italy, determined to leave Pannonia, & go spoil & conquer Italy, although it belonged to Rome, & were at the season friends with the Romans, yet notwithstanding they had little respect to this. And hereat no man ought to marvel, for in the place there is never perfit friendship, where he that commandeth is constrained to demand help of others. The Lumbards' determined to pass into Italy: & at the time there was seen of the Italians visibly in the air, sundry armies of fire, the one cruelly killing the other. Which things greatly feared the hearts of the people. For by this they knew that with in a short space, much of their blood & of their enemies also should be shed. For it is an old ancient custom, that when any great matter doth chance to any Realm, first the planets & elements do declare the same by secret tokens. The ingratitude of the Emperor justinian against Narsetes his captain, & the evil words which Sophia spoke unto him, were th'occasion that the Lombard's invaded, & destroyed all Italy. which thing valiant Princes ought well to note, to keep themselves from ingratitude towards their servants, who hath done them great service, For it is a general rule, that the ingratitude of a great benefit, maketh the servants despair of recompense, or of a faithful servant, maketh him become a cruel & mortal enemy. And let not Princes trust men, because they be native of their realms, brought up & nourished in their palaces, & always have been faithful in their services, that therefore they will not of good subjects be turned to evil, nor yet of faithful become disloyal. For such imagination is vain. For the Prince that in his doings is unthankful, cannot keep nor retain any honest man long in his service. One thing the noble justinian did with Narsetes, whereof all noble and sage Princes ought to beware, that is to know, he did not only give ear unto his enemies and believed them: but also before them he did dishonour him, and shame him to his power, which thing made him utterly to despair.  
For there is nothing that spiteth a man more, then to have before his enemies any injury or dishonour done unto him of his superior. The empress Sophia therefore deserved great reproach for speaking such dishonest words to Narsetes, to send him to thread the needles in that occupation where the damsels wrought. For it is the duty of a noble princess, to mitigate the ire of Princes when they are angry and not to provoke them further to anger. Narsetes then always doubting the empress Sophia, never after returned into Naples where she was, but rather came from Naples to Rome, a year before the Lombard's came into Italy: where he received all the sacraments, and like a devout Christian died. His body was carried to Alexandria in a coffin of silver all set with precious stones, and there was buried. And a man cannot tell whither the displeasure were greater that all Asia had not to see Narsetes alive, or the pleasure that Sophia had to see him dead. For the unpatient heart (especially of a woman) hath no rest, until she see her enemy dead.   

¶ Of a letter the Emperor Marcus Aurelius sent to the King of Scicile, in which he recordeth the travails they endured togethers in their youth, and reproveth him of his small reverence towards the temples. Chapter xvii.  
MArcus Aurelius sole Emperor of Rome, borne in mount Celio, called the old tribune, wisheth health and long life to the Gorbin, Lord & king of Sicily. As it is the custom of the Roman Emperors, the first year of my reign I wrote generally to all that I'll: the second year I wrote generally unto thy court and palace, and at this present I writ more particularly to thy parson. And although that Princes have great Realms, yet they ought not therefore to cease to communicate with their old friends. Since I took my pen to write unto thee, I stayed my hand a great while from writing, and it was not for that I was slothful, but because I was a shamed to see all Rome offended with the. I let the to we●e (most excellent prince) that in this I say I am thy true friend, for in my heart I feel thy trouble and so said Euripides, that which with the heart is loved, with the heart is lamented. But before I show thee the cause of my writing, I will reduce into thy memory some things passed of our youth, and thereby we shall see what we were then, and what we are now: for no man doth so much rejoice of his prosperity present, as he which calleth to mind his miseries past. Thou shalt call to mind (most excellent Prince) that we two togethers did learn to read in Capua, and after we studied a little in Tarentum: and from thence we went to Rhodes, where I red rhetoric, and thou hardest philosophy. And afterwards in the end of x. years, we went to the wars of Pannonia, where I gave myself to music: for the affections of young men is so variable, that daily they would know strange realms, and change offices. And in all those journeys, with the force of youth, the sweet company, with the pleasant communication of sciences, and with a vain hope we did dissemble our extreme poverty, which was so great, that many times and oft we desired not that which many had, but that little which to few abounded. Dost thou remember, that when we sailed by the gulf Arpin to go into Helesponte, a long and tempestuous torment came upon us, wherein we were taken of a pirate, and for our ransom he made us row about ix months in a galley, whereas I cannot tell which was greater, either the want of bread, or the abundance of stripes which we always endured? Hast thou forgotten also that in the city of Rhodes, when we were besieged of Bruerdus, puissant king of Epirotes, for the space of fourteen months, we were ten without eating flesh, save only ii cats, the one which we stole, and the other which we bought? remember that thou and I (being in Tarent) were desired of our host to go to the feast of the great goddess Diana: into the which temple none could enter that day, but those which were new appareled. And to say the truth, we determined not to go thither: thou because thy garments were torn, and I because my shoes were broken: and that both the times we were sick in Capua, they never cured us by diet: for our diseases never proceeded of excess but of extreme hunger. An often times Retropus the physician, for his pleasure spoke to us in the university and said. Alas children, you die not through surfeiting and much eating. And truly he said troth, for the country was so dear, and our money so scarce, that we did never eat until the time we could endure no longer for famine. Dost thou not remember the great famine that was in Capua, for the which cause we were in the war of Alexandria, wherein my flesh did tremble, remembering the great perils which we passed in the gulf of Theberynthe. What snows all winter, what extreme heat all summer, what general famine in the fields, what outrageous pestilence amongst the people, and worst of all, what persecution of strangers, and what evil will we had of ours? remember also that in the city of Naples, when we made our prayer to the profetesse Flavia, she told us what should become of us, after we left our studies She told me that I should be an Emperor, and said that thou shouldest be a king.  
To the which answer we gave such credit, that we took it not only for a mock: but also for a manifest injury. And now I do not marvel, in that then we both marveled wonderful much. For envious fortune practised her power more in plucking down the rich, then in setting up the poor. Behold (excellent Prince) the great power of the goddess, the wheel of fortune, & the variety of times: who would have thought when I had my hands all rough and scurvy with rowing in the galley, that between those hands the sceptre of the Roman Empire should have been put? who would have thought when I was so sick for lack of meat, I should ever have surfited by to much eating: who would have thought when I could not be satisfied with cats flesh, that I should have then glutted with to much dainty meats? who would have thought at that time when I left going into the temple because my shoes were broken, that another time should come when I should ride triumphing in chariotes, and upon the shoulders of other men? who would have thought that that which with my ears I hard of the prophetess in Campagnia, I should see here with my eyes in Rome. O how many did hope (at the time we were in Asia) to be governors of Rome, and lords of Sicily, which not only failed of the honour that they desired, but also obtained the death which they never feared? for oftentimes it chanceth to ambitious men, that in their greatest ruff, and when they think their honour spun and woven, than their estate with the web of their life in one moment is broken. If at that time one had demanded the tyrant Laodicius (aspiring to the kingdom of Sicily) & Ruphus calvus who looked to be Emperor of Rome, what they thought of themselves: assuredly they would have sworn their hope to have been as certain, as ours was doubtful. For it is natural to proud men, to delight themselves, and to set their hole mind upon vain devices. It is a strange thing and worthy memory, that they having the honour in their eyes failed of it, & we not thinking thereof in our hearts should obtain it. But herein fortune showed her might, that she provided hope for those which looked for least: and despair for others that hoped for most: which thing grieved them at the very heart. For no patience can endure to see a man obtain that without travail, which he could never compass by much labour. I cannot tell if I should say like a simple Roman, that those things consist in fortune: or if I should say like a good philosopher, that all the gods do ordain them. For in the end, no fortune nor chance can do any thing without the gods assent. Let the proud and envious travail asmuch as they will, and the ambitious take as much care as they can, I say and affirm, that little availeth humane diligence to attain to great estates, if the gods be their enemies Suppose that evil fortune do ordain it, or that the god and gods do suffer it, I see those which have their thoughts high, oftentimes are but of base estate: and so in fine to come to mischief or extreme poverty, and those that have their thoughts low, are humble of heart, and for the more part are greatly exalted by fortune. For many oftentimes dream that they are lords, and men of great estate, which when they are awake, find themselves slaves to all men. The condition of honour is such, as I never read the like: and therefore such as have to do with her, aught to take good heed. For her conditions are such, she inquireth for him whom she never saw, & she runneth after him that flieth from her, she honoureth him that esteemeth her not, and she demandeth him which willeth her not, she giveth to him that requireth her not, & she trusteth him whom she knoweth not. Finally honour hath this custom, to forsake him that esteemeth her: and to remain with him which little regardeth her. The curious travelers ask not what place this or that is, but do demand what way they must take to lead them to the place they go. I mean, that princes & noble men ought not directly to cast their eyes upon honour: but in the way of virtue, which bringeth them to honour. For daily we see many remain defamed, only for seeking honour: and others also exalted and esteemed for flying from her. O miserable world, thou knowest I know the well, and that which I know of the is: that thou art a sepulchre of the dead, a prison of the living, a shop of vices, a hangman of virtues, oblivion of antiquity, an enemy of things present, a pitfall to the rich, and a burden to the poor, a house of pilgrames, and a den of thieves. Finally O world, thou art a slanderer of the good, a ravener of the wicked, and a decever and abuser of all, and in the O world, to speak the truth, it is almost impossible to live contented, and much less to live in honour. For if thou wilt give honour to the good, they thnke themselves dishonoured, & esteem thy honour as a thing of mockery. And if perchance they be evil & light, thou sufferest them to come to honour by way of mockery, meaning infamy and dishonour unto them. O immortal gods, I am oftentimes troubled in my thought whose case I should more lament, either the evil man advanced with out desert, or the good man overthrown without cause. And truly in this case, the pitiful man will have compassion on them both. For if the evil live, he is sure to fall: and if the good fall, we doubt whether ever he shall rise again. If all falls were alike, all would be healed and cured with one salve: but some fall on their feet, some on their sides, others stumble and fall not, and other fall down right, but some do give them a hand. I mean some there are which fall from their estate, & lose no more but their substance: others fall, and for very sorrow lose not only their goods, but their life with all. Other there are that fall, who neither lose their life nor goods, but their honour only. So according to the discretion of fortune, the more they have, the more still he taketh from them, and I greatly muse why the gods do never remedy it, for when fortune once beginneth to overthrow a poor man, she doth not only take all he hath from him, but all those which may & will succour him.  
So that the poor man is bound more to lament for another man's evil: then for his own proper. There is a great difference between the mishaps of the good, and adventures of the evil. For of the ill we cannot say that he descendeth, but that he falleth: and of the good we may only say that he descendeth and falleth not. For in the end, the true honour doth not consist in the perfection and dignity that a man hath, but in the good life that he leadeth, It is a misery to see the vain men of this world, when they go about to get any thing, and to compass any great matter of importance, to mark their early rising in a morning, their late going to bed at night, and the look which they cast upon other men, to note how importunate they are to some, and how troublesome they are to others, and afterward (notwithstanding their long suit and great pain) an other man which little thought thereof, cometh to that honour rejoicing and without travail: which he before by so great pains, and with so great expenses of money hath sought: so that in seeking honour by travail, he cometh to infamy with shame. For I myself have seen sundry things lost by negligence, and many more by to much diligence.   

¶ The Emperor proceedeth in his letter, to admonish princes to be fearful of their gods, and of the sentence which the Senate gave upon this king: for pulling down the Church. Cap. xviii.  
ALL these things (most excellent prince) I have told the for none other cause, but to aggravate this case, & to show the peril thereof. For the good physician (to take away the bitterness of the pill) ministereth some sweet sugar, to delight the patient withal. The xx. day of the month of january (here before the Senate) was presented a long & large information of thee, & it was sent by the Consul, which went to visit that I'll of Sicilia, which (as thou knowest) is an old order of Rome, from three months to three months, to visit all the land & country subject to the same. For those princes are unjust, which have more care to take up their rents, than diligence to know if their people be well ordered by justice. Of the information taken of the and thy person (if my memory deceive me not) this was the effect, that thou art temperate in eating, moderate in expenses, pitiefull to widows, father to orphans, gentle to those that serve thee, patient with those that offend thee, diligent to keep and maintain peace, and faithful to observe league, and thou art accused only to be negligent in the service of God.  
By one little gate left open, oftentimes a great City besieged is lost: by one only treason, the infinite services passed are not esteemed. I mean (most excellent prince) that it little prevaileth to think much of worldly matters, and to forget all divine services. For the good Prince ought first to shut the gates against vices, that they enter not into his subjects: before he doth fortify the walls against his enemies. Let every man be as he will, & say what he list, I for my part think it sure, that the man which is not a studious server of the gods, all his virtues shallbe turned into vices, and esteemed as slanders.  
For it is a general rule in high Philosophy, that a work is not called virtuous, because I work it only, but it is virtuous because it is acceptable to the gods.  
O excellent prince, dost not thou know that there is no man so wise, neither so sage, but erreth more through ignorance, than he doth good by wisdom? And dost not thou know that there is no man so just, but wanteth much to execute true justice? And finally I say that there is no virtue so virtuous, but it wanteth more than it hath to be perfect. Wherefore all our justice ought to be made perfit to the divine justice: and the virtue which we lack, aught to be supplied under the great perfection wherewith the gods abound. amongs us Romans we have this law, (which is the chief of all the phisophers) that here amongst mortal men, nor of mortal men, nor with mortal men any thing is perfit, unless it be by the Gods confirmed. Since men are feeble & frail, it can not be chosen but they should commit many frailties. And in such case, the sage Princes ought and should bear with all the frailties that men commit, those excepted which are not injurious to the gods, whom (if it were possible) unwares ought to be punished.  
For the Prince should not be called a Prince but a Tyrant, that is desirous to revenge his own injury, and in chastening those which are against the gods showeth himself negligent.  
Let them think what they list, and complain what they will, that Prince which will enlarge his dominious, and give occasion that the service of God be diminished, such a man we will not call a king that governeth, but a Tyrant. If we call him a Tyrant that spoileth the people, slayeth the men, persecuteth the innocent, dishonoureth virginnes, and robbeth realms: Tell me excellent Prince, what lacketh he of a Tyrant, that plucketh down Churches, and little esteemeth the gods? There is no token more manifest that the Prince is a tyrant, then when he taketh upon him any thing which is contrary to the will of the gods.  
For he hath small regard towards men, that so little feareth the Gods. Lycurgus the famous king of the Lacedæmonians saith in one of his ancient laws these words. We ordain and command, that no Lacedaemonian presume to receive mercy or favour of the Prince, which will not enforce himself to serve the Gods. For he is not only evil, but of all other most wicked. O excellent king, O glorious world, O fortunate realm, wherein those ancients would their Prince should be so just, that the gifts were not esteemed, unless their lives were honest: for they thought that of no value, which by the hands of evil men was given. Thou haste done one thing very dishonest (most noble Prince) the which to write unto thee I am ashamed, which is: for to enlarge thy new palace, thou hast plucked down an old Temple, the which thing thou shouldest neither have done nor yet have thought. For in the end, though the stones of the temple be of small importance, yet the Gods to whom they were dedicated were of much value. Pardon me (excellent Prince) though I let thee understand that this fact hath been done in such sort, that thereby I was amazed, and all Rome also offended, the sacred Senate thou haste greatly vexed, and further all judge thee a dissolute man, and all men procure that thou mayst be extremely punished, and hereof marvel not. For in Rome they believe that the Prince which dare pluck down temples, doth little fear the Gods. For that thou art a noble Prince, and an old friend of mine, I have travailed to bring thee in favour with the Senate, and because thou haste no means to excuse thy error committed: they do not determine to forgive thee this fault, before they see in thee a token of amendment. And of truth me thinketh they have reason. For there is nothing that troubleth poor men more, than to see that they and not the rich for their offences are chastised and punished. That which the sacred Senate hath ordained is, that forthwith thou begin to build the temple a new, and that it should be more large, high, beautiful, and richer, than ever it was. So that thou take as much of thy palace to enlarge the temple, as thou tookest of the temple to beautify thy palace. After thou haste performed this, though now thou think thyself half dishonoured, thou wilt than think thyself very happy. For not thou of the Gods but the Gods of thee shall have taken thy house to make their temple. I believe well it will be great cost and charges unto thee before thou haste finished the temple. Wherefore I send thee forty thousand sexterces to help thy building, and to the end it should be more secret, I send thee them by my Secretary Panuntius, to whom, in all, and for all, thou shalt give credit. I send the likewise a collar of gold, which one brought me from the river of Nile, and because it was to narrow for me, I suppose: it will be fit for the.  
One hath brought me moils out of Spain, whereof I send the .2. Panuntius my secretary bringeth with him a very good moyse, the which he esteemeth much: So that theris no man that can either by her or borrow her. I delight in her so much, that I desire thou cause her either to be bought, or stolen, and sent unto me here in Rome. My wife Faustine saluteth thee, and to the excellent queen thy wife, of her part & mine as much as is possible do our commendations, and these Popingeys, Faustine presenteth unto her. Marcus the Roman Emperor writeth to thee with his own hand.   

¶ How the Gentiles honoured those which were devout in the service of the Gods. Cap. nineteen.  
THE ancient Roman historiographers agree, that at the beginning there were seven kings, which governed Rome for the space of xxiiii years. The second whereof was named Pompilius, who amongst all the other was most highly esteemed, for none other cause, but for that he was a great worshipper of the Gods, and a sumptuous builder of the temples. For the Roman princes were as much beloved for serving the gods, as they were honoured for vanquishing their enemies. This man was of such sort, that he allowed Rome wholly for the Gods, and made a house for himself without the city. For it was an ancient law in Rome, that no man should be so bold to dwell in any house consecrated for the Gods. The fift king of the Romans was Tarqvinius Priscus. And as Tarqvinius Superbus was vicious and abhorred of the people, so was this virtuous and well-beloved of the gods: and was greatly praised in all his doings because he feared God, and continually visited the temples, and not contented with those which were finished but built also in the high Capitol the sacred temple of jupiter. For that no Prince could build any house in Rome for himself, unless first he made a temple for the Gods, of the common wealth. This temple was had in so great reverence, that as the Romans honoured jupiter for the God above all other Gods, so was that temple esteemed above all other temples. In the wars between the Falisques and the Carpenates, two Roman captains were vanquished, of the which the one named Gemetius died: whereupon rose such a great fear among them, that many flying from the wars, came back again to Rome. For the victorious hath always this privilege, that though they be few, yet they are always feared of them that be overcome. This occasion moved the Romans to chose new captains, and truly they did like wise men. For oftentimes it happeneth by altering the captains of the wars, fortune likewise changeth her doings. And the captain that was elected for the wars, was Marcus Furius Camillus, who though he were stout and hardy, yet before he went to the wars he offered great sacrifices to the Gods, and made a vow that if he returned to Rome victorious, he would build a solemn temple. For it was the custom in Rome, that immediately when the Roman captain would enterprise to do any notable thing, he should make a vow to build temples. Now when Camillus returned afterwards victorious, he did not only build a temple, but also furnished it with all manner of implements thereunto belonging, which he got by spoil, and vanquishing his enemies. And sith he was for this reprehended of some, saying that the Roman captains should offer their hearts to the Gods, and divide the treasures among the Soldiers, he answered these words. I like a man did ask the gods but one triumph: and they like gods gave me many. Therefore considering this, it is but just sith I was brief in promising, that I should be large in performing. For even as I did thank them for that they gave me double, in respect of that I demanded: so likewise shall they esteem that which I do give, in respect of that which I promised. At that time when the cruel war was betwixt Rome & the city of Neye, the Romans kept it besieged five years togethers, & in th'end by policy took it. For it chanceth sundry times in war, that that city in short time by policy is won, which by great strength a long time hath been defended. Marcus Furius dictator of Rome, & at that time captain, commanded a proclamation to be had through his host, that incontinently after the city was taken, none should be so hardy as to kill any of the citizens, but those which were found armed. Which thing the enemies understanding, unarmed themselves all & so escaped. And truly this example was worthy of noting. For as the captains ought to show themselves fierce, & cruel at the beginning: so after the victory had of their enemies, they should show themselves meek & pitiful. This dictator Camillus, for an other thing he did, was much commended above the residue. That is to weet, he did not only not consent to rob the temples, nor dishonour the gods: but he himself with great reverence, took the sacred vessels of the temples, & the gods which were therein, (especially the goddess juno) & brought them all to Rome. For amongst the ancients there was a law, that the gods of them which were vanquished, should not come by lot to the captains being conquerors. Therefore he made in the mount Auentino a sumptuous temple, wherein he placed all the gods togethers, with all the other holy relics which he won. For the greater triumph the Romans had over their enemies, so much the better they handled the gods of the people vanquished. Also you ought to know, that the Romans after many victories, determined to make a crown of gold very great and rich, and to offer it to the god Apollo. But sith the common treasure was poor because there was but little silver, & less gold to make that crown: the Roman matrons defaced their jewels & ouches of gold & silver to make the crown with all. For in Rome there never wanted money (if it were demanded) for the service of gods, to repair temples, or to redeem captives. The Senate esteemed the well willing hearts of these women in such sort, that they granted them three things: that is to weet, to wear on their heads garlands of flowers, to go in chariots to the common places, & to go openly to the feasts of the gods. For the ancient Romans were so honest, that they never ware gold on their heads, neither went they at any time to the feasts uncovered. A man ought not to marvel, that the Romans granted such privileges unto the ancient matrons of Rome. For they used never to be oblivious of any benefit received, but rather gentle, with thanks and rewards to recompense the same. another notable thing chanced in Rome, which was that the Romans sent two tribunes, the which were called Caulius & Sergius, into the isle of Delphos with great presents, to offer unto the god Apollo. For as Titus Livius saith, Rome yearly sent a present unto the god Apollo, & Apollo gave unto the Romans counsel. And as the Tribunes went out of the way, they fell into the hands of pirates & rovers on the sea, which took them with their treasures, and brought them to the city of Liparie. But the citizen's understanding that those presents were consecrated to the god Apollo, did not only deliver them all their treasure again: but also gave them much more, and guides therewith to conduct them safely (both going and coming) from all peril and danger. The Romans being advertised of their gentleness by the messengers, which were come safe & alive, did so much rejoice, that they ordained in Rome, that the nobles of Liparie should be made Senators of Rome, & all the others should be confederate & of alliance unto them. And they caused further that two priests of Lipari should always remain in the temple of jupiter, which privilege was never granted to any other strangers but to them only. For the Romans had so great zeal, & love to their gods, that in the services of the temples they trusted none, but those which were native & ancient of Rome, and also were both wise and virtuous. When Quintus Fabius & Publius Decius, were in the wars against the Samnites & tuscans, and likewise against the Vmbres, many marvelous & terrible signs were seen in Rome, which things did not only fear those that saw them, but also those which heard of them. Upon which occasion the Romans and the Roman matrons (both night and day) offered great sacrifices to the gods. For they said, if we can once pacify the wrath of the gods in Rome, we shall never need to fear our enemies in the field. The thing was this, that as the Roman matrons went visiting the temples, to appease the ire of the gods, many Senators wives came to the temple of chastity to offer sacrifice. For in the time of the puissant power of the Romans, the women did sacrifice in the temples of the gods. At that time came Virginea, the daughter of Aureus Virgineus, the Consul Plebeian, the which was forbidden to do sacrifice, for that she was none of the Senators wives but a Plebeian, as much to say as a crafts woman, & no gentilmans daughter borne. For the noble women were had in so great veneration, & so highly esteemed, that all the other seemed (in respect of them) but handmaids, & slaves. The noble Roman Virginea, seeing her to be so repulsed & disdained of the other matrons, made of her own proper house a semple to the goddess of chastity, and with much devotion & reverence honoured her. The which thing being published abroad throughout Rome, many other women came thither to do sacrifice likewise. For fortune is so variable, that oftentimes those which of pride have forbidden us their houses, come after by humility, to serve us at ours. For this cause this Virginea the foundress was so greatly praised, that the Romans in her life made her patrice (that is a noble Roman) and after her death caused her image and statue to be made and set up in the high Capitol: and above this image were graven certain Greek letters, the effect whereof was this.  
Patrice the great, this Image doth present  
That in her life, did give with mind devout  
The Gods her house, and therefore to them went  
When lively breath, by death was chased out.  
Of all these histories above named, Titus Livius maketh mention in his first decade, the second fift, and ninth book, & though he declareth them more at large, yet this shall suffice for my purpose. I have sought among the gentiles these few examples to reprove christian princess, to th'end they might see how studious & fervent our fathers were in the service of their Idols: & contrariwise how cold & negligent we are, to honour & serve our true & living god. It is a shame to tell how the ancient Romans with all their hearts did serve the gods without any understanding, & how those which are christians (for the most part) serve the true God, not in truth, but with hypocrisy and dissimulation. Foyes the children of this world will take no pains, but for to provoke the pleasures of the body. Many wondered for what occasion God did so much for them, and they did nothing for God. To this may be answered, that if they had known one true God, all the sacrifices they had done to their other gods, they would have done to him only: and as God is just, so he rewarded them in their temporal prosperities, not for that they did well, but for that they desired to do well. For in our divine law, God doth not regard what we are, but what we desire to be. Christian princes marvel much what the occasion should be, that they are not so fortunate as the Gentiles were. To this may be answered, that either they be good or evil. If they be good, truly God should do them wrong, if for the payment of their faithful services, he should recompense them with those worldly vanities. For without doubt one only loving countenance of god in the world to come is more worth, than all the temporal goods of this world present. But if these such great lords be evil in their persons, ambitious in governing their dominions, not pitiful to widows and fatherless, not fearful of god nor of his threatenings, and moreover never to have mind to serve him, but only when they see themselves in some great jeopardy, in such case God will not hear them, and much less favour them. For without doubt the service is more acceptable, which of free will proceedeth: than that which of necessity is offered.   

¶ For five causes princes ought to be better Christians then their subjects. Cap. xx.  
IN mine opinion, Princes ought and are bound to be virtuous for five causes. I say virtuous, in that they should love, and fear God. For he only may be called virtuous, which in the catholic faith of the church, and in the fear of God hath always remained constant. First, princes should fear, love, serve, and love one only god whom they worship, for that they acknowledge him only and none other to be the head both of heaven and earth. For in the end there is nothing so puissant, but is subject to the divine power. And truly the prince is is great peril of damnation of his soul, if in his government he hath not always before his eyes, the fear and love of the supreme prince, to whom we must render of all our doings an account. For the prince hath great occasion to be vicious, thinking that for the vice he shall not be chastised. I have red in diverse & sundry writings, and I never found one ancient prince to be contented with one only god, but that they had & served many gods. julius Caesar carried five gods painted in a table, and Scipio the great carried seven portered in metal. And furthermore they were not contented to have many: but yet in sacrifices, and services, they offered unto them all. The Christian princes which keep and have but one very true and omnipotent god, are so unthankful, that they think it much to serve and give acceptable service unto him. And though peradventure some say, that it is more painful to serve one true god, than all these false gods, to this I answer. That to serve them, it is both travail & pain: but to serve our god, it is both joy and felicity. For in serving those, it is costly, and without profit: and in serving God great profit ensueth. For those gods require great and rich sacrifices, and our God demandeth nothing but pure and clean hearts. secondarily princes should be better Christians than others because they have more to lose then all. And he that hath more to lose then any other, aught above all other to serve god. For even as he alone can give him, so likewise he alone and none other can take from him. And if a subject take any thing from his neighbour, the prince whom he serveth maketh him render it again: but if the Prince be injuried with any other tyrant, he hath none to complain unto, nor to demand help of, but only of his merciful God. For in the end, one that is of power can not be hurt, but by an other that is likewise mighty. Let princes behold how the man that will make any great assault, first cometh running afar of as fast as he can. I mean, that the prince which will have God merciful unto him, aught to be content with his only god. For he in vain demandeth help of him, to whom before he never did service. Thirdly princes ought to be better Christians than others, and this shallbe seen by that they succour the poor, provide for those that are unprovided, and visit the temples, hospitals, and churches, and endeavour themselves to hear the divine service, and for all these things they shall not only receive rewards, but also they shall receive honour. For through their good example, others will do the same. Princes not fearing God, nor his commandments, cause their Realms and subjects to fall into great misery. For if the fountain be infected, it is unpossible for the streams (that issue thereof) to be pure. We see by experience that a bridle mastereth a horse, and a stern ruleth a ship. I mean, that a prince (good or bad) will lead after him all the whole Realm. And if he honour God, all the people do likewise, if he serve God, the people also serve him, if he praise God, the subjects also praise him: and if he blaspheme god, they likewise will do the same. For it is unpossible that a tree should bring forth other leaves or fruits, than those which are agreeable to the humour that are in the roots Princes above all other creatures have this pre-eminence, that if they be good Christians, they shall not only receive merit for their own works, but also for all those which others shall do, because they are occasion that the people work well. And for the contrary, they shall not only be punished for the evil which they shall do: but also for the evil which by occasion of their evil examples others shall commit. O ye princes that now be alive, how greatly do I wish that ye should speak with some one of those princes which now are dead, especially with those that are condemned to the eternal fiery flames: than ye should see that the greatest torments which they suffer, are not for the evils that they did commit, but for the evils which through their occasion were done. For oftentimes princes and prelate's sin more, because they dissemble with others, then for that they do commit themselves O how circumspect ought princes and great lords to be in that they speak, and how diligently ought they to examine that which they do. For they serve not God only for themselves, but they serve him also in generally for their subjects. And contrariwise princes are not only punished for their own offences, but also for the sins of their people. For the sheaperd ought grievously to be punished, when by negligence the ravening wolf devoureth the innocent lamb. Fourthly princes ought to be better Christians than others, because that to God only they must render account of their estates, for as much as we are sure that god, to whom we must render account is just, so much the more we should travail to be in his favour: because whether he find or not find in our life any fault, yet for love & pity's sake he may correct us. Men one with another make their accounts in this life because they are men, and in the end count they well or evil all passeth amongs men, because they are men: but what shall the unhappy Princes do, which shall render no account but to God only, who will not be deceived with words, corrupted with gifts, feared with threatenings, nor answered with excuses. Princes have their Realms full of cruel judges, to punish the frailty of man: they have their courts full of advocates, to plead against them that have offended: they have their palaces full of loiterers, & promoters, that note the offences of other men: they have through all their provinces auditors, that oversee the accounts of their rents: and besides all this, they have no remembrance of the day so straight, wherein they must render account of their wicked life. Me thinks (since all that which princes receive, cometh from the hands of God) that the greatest part of the time which they spend, should be in the service of God, and all their trade in God, and they ought to render no account of their life but unto God: then sith they are gods in th'authority which they have over temporal things, they ought to show themselves to resemble god more than others by virtues. For that Prince is more to be magnified, which reformeth two vices among his people: then he which conquereth ten realms of his enemies. But we will desire them from henceforth they presume not any more to be gods on the earth, but that they endeavour themselves to be good Christians in the common wealth. For all the wealth of a Prince is, that he be stout with strangers, and loving to his own subjects. Fiftly Princes ought to be better Christians than others. For the prosperity or adversity that chanceth unto them, cometh directly from the hands of god only, and none other. I have seen sundry times Princes, which have put their whole hope & confidence in other princes, to be on a sudden discomfaited: and for the contrary, those which have little hope in men, and great confidence in god, have always prospered. When man is in his chiefest bravery, and trusteth most to men's wisdom, than the secret judgement of God soonest discomforteth him. I mean, that the confederates & friends of princes might help & secure them, but god will not suffer them to be helped nor succoured, to th'end they should see that their remedy proceedeth not by man's diligence, but by divine providence. A prince that hath a realm, doth not suffer any thing to be done therein without his advise: therefore sith god is of no less power in heaven, than princes are on the earth: it is reason that nothing be done without his consent, sins he taketh account of all men's deeds, & as he is the end of all things, so in him, & by him, all things have their beginning. O Princes, if you knew how small a thing it is to be hated of men, and how great a comfort to be beloved of god, I swear that you would not speak one word (although it were in jest) unto men, neither would you cease night nor day to commend yourselves unto god: for god is more merciful to secure us, than we are diligent to call upon him.  
For in conclusion, the favour which men can give you, other men can take from you: but the favour that god will give you, no man can resist it. All those that possess much, should use the company of them which can do much: and if it be so, I let you princes weet, that all men can not think so much, togethers, as god himself is able to do alone. For the cry of a Lion is more fearful than the howling of a wolf. I confess that princes and great lords may sometimes gain, and wynnne of themselves: but I ask them whose favour they have need of, to preserve and keep them? we see oftentimes that in a short space many come to great authority, the which neither man's wisdom sufficeth to govern, nor yet man's force to keep. For the authority which the Romans in six hundred years gained, fight against the Eothes: in the space of three years they lost. We see daily by experience, that a man for the government of his own house only, needeth the council of his friends, and neighbours: and do princes & great lords think by their own heads only, to rule and govern many realms and dominions?   

¶ What the Philosopher Bias was: of his constancy when he lost all his goods, and of the ten laws he gave worthy to be had in memory. Cap. xxi.  
AMong all nations and sorts of men, which avaunt themselves to have had with them sage men, the Grecians were the chiefest, which had and thought it necessary to have not only wise men to read in their schools: but also they chose them to be princes in their dominions. For as Plato saith, those which governed in those days were Philosophers, or else they said and did like Philosophers. And Laertius writeth, in his second book De antiquitatibus Grecorum, that the Grecians avaunted themselves much in this, that they have had of all estates persons most notable, that is to weet: seven women very sage, seven Queens very honest, seven kings very virtuous, seven Captains very hardy, seven cities very notable, seven buildings very sumptuous, & seven Philosophers well learned: which Philosophers were these that follow.  
The first was Thales Milesius, that invented the Card to sail by.  
The second was Solon, that gave the first laws to the Athenians.  
The third was Chilo, who was in the Orient for Ambassador of the Athenians.  
The fourth was Pittacus Quintilenus, who was not only a philosopher, but also Captain of the Mitelenes.  
The fifth was Cleobolus, that descended from the ancient lineage of Hercules.  
The sixth was Periander, that long time governed the realm of Corinth.  
The seventh was Bias Prieneus, that was prince of the Prieneans.  
Therefore as touching Bias, you must understand that when Romulus reigned at Rome, and Ezechias in judea, there was great wars in Grecia between the Metinenses, and the Prieneans: and of these Prieneans, Bias the philosopher was prince and Captain, who because he was sage, read in the university: and for that he was hardy, was chieftain in the war, and because he was wise, he was made a Prince, and governed the common wealth. And of this no man ought to marvel: for in those days the Philosopher that had knowledge but in one thing, was little esteemed in the common wealth. After many contentions had between the Met●nenses, and Prienenses, a cruel battle was fought, whereof the philosopher Bias was captain and had the victory: and it was the first battle that ever any Philosopher gave in Greece. For the which victory Greece was proud, to see that their Philosophers were so adventurous in wars, and hardy of their hands: as they were profound in their doctrine, and eloquent in their tongues. And by chance one brought him a number of women and maidens to sell, or if he listed to use them otherwise at his pleasure: but this good philosopher did not defile them nor sell them, but caused them to be appareled, and safely to be conducted to their own native countries. And let not this liberality that he did be had in little estimation, to deliver the captives, and not to deflower the virgins. For many times it chanceth, that those which are overcome with the weapons of the conquerors, are conquered with the delights of them that are overcome. This deed amongst the Greeks was so highly commended, and likewise of their enemies so praised, that immediately the Metinenses sent Ambassadors to demand peace of the Prienenses. And they concluded perpetual peace upon condition, that they should make for Bias an immortal statue, sith by his hands and also by his virtues, he was the occasion of the peace and ending of the wars between them. And truly they had reason, for he deserveth more praise which winneth the hearts of the enemies in his tents by good example: then he which getteth the victory in the field by shedding of blood. The hearts of men are noble, and we see daily, that oftentime one shall sooner overcome many by good, then many overcome one by evil: and also they say, that the Emperor Severus spoke these words. By goodness the least slave in Rome shall lead me tied with a here whether he will: but by evil, the most puissant men in the world can not move me out of Italy. For my heart had rather be servant to the good, than Lord to the evil. Valerius Maximus declareth, that when the city of Priene was taken by enemies & put to sack, the wife of Bias was slain, his children taken prisoners, his goods rob, the city beaten down, and his house set on fire, but Bias escaped safe and went to Athens. In this pitiful case the good philosopher Bias was no whit the sadder but rather sang as he went by the way, and when he perceived that men marveled at his mirth, he spoke unto them these words. Those which speak of me for wanting my city, my wife, and my children, and losing all that I had, truly such know not what fortune meaneth, nor understand what philosophy is. The loss of children and temporal goods, cannot be called loss, if the life be safe and the renown remain undefiled. Whether this sentence be true or no, let us profoundly consider, if the just god suffer that this city should come into the hands of the cruel tyrants, than this provision is just: for there is no thing more conformable unto justice, then that those which receive not the doctrine of the Sages, should suffer the cruelties of the tyrants.  
Also though my enemies have killed my wife, yet I am sure it was not without the determination of the Gods, who after they created her body, immediately appointed the end of her life.  
Therefore why should I bewail her death, since the gods have lent her life but until this day? The great estimation that we have of this life, causeth that death seemeth unto us sudden, and that the life unwares with death is overtaken: but these are words of the children of vanity, for that by the will of the gods, death visiteth us, and against the wills of men, life forsaketh us. Also my children be virtuous philosophers, and albeit they be now in the hands of tyrants, we ought not therefore to call them captives, for a man may not call him a captive which is laden with irons: but him which is overwhelmed with vices. And although the fire have burnt my house, yet I know not why I ought to be sad, for of truth it was now old, and the wind did blow down the tiles, the worms did waste the wood, and the waters that ran down perished the walls, and it was old and like to fall, and perchance would have done greater displeasure. For most commonly, envy, malice, and old houses, suddenly without any warning or knocking at the door assaulteth men: finally there came the fire which quited me of many troubles. First of the trouble that I should have had in repairing it, secondarily it saved me money in plucking it down, thirdly it preserved me and mine heirs from much cost and many dangers. For oftentimes that which a man consumeth in repairing an old house, would with advantage by him a new. Also those which say that for the taking away of my goods, I lack the goods of fortune, such have no reason so to think or say. For fortune never giveth temporal goods for a proper thing, but to those whom she list, and when she will dispose them: therefore when fortune seeth that those men whom she hath appointed as her distributers, do hourde up the same to them and to their heirs: then she taketh it from them to give it to an other. Therefore by reason I should not complain that I have lost any thing: for fortune recommendeth unto an other the temporal goods: but I carry patience and Philosophy with me, so that they have discharged me from all other, and have no more charge but for myself alone. Laertius declareth in his fift book of the sayings of the Grecians. That this Bias determined to go to the plays of mount Olympus, whereunto resorted people of all nations: and he showed himself in this place of so high an understanding, that he was counted supreme and chief of all other philosophers, and won the name of a true philosopher. Other philosophers then being in the same plays Olimpicalles, asked him many questions of sundry matters, whereof I will make mention here of the chiefest.  

¶ The questions demanded of the Philosopher Bias.  
THe first question was this. Tell me who is the unhappiest man in the world? Bias answered. He is most unhappy that is not patient in adversities. For men are not killed with the adversities they have: but with the impatience which they suffer.  
The second was, what is most hardest & troublesome to judge? he answered. There is nothing more difficult, then to judge a contention betwixt two friends. For to judge between two enemies, th'one remaineth a friend: but to be judge between two friends, the one is made an enemy.  
The third was, what is most hardest to measure? whereunto Bias answered. There is nothing that needeth more circumspection than the measuring of time: for the time should be measured so justly, that by reason no time should want to do well, nor any time should abound to do evil. The fourth was, what thing is that that needeth no excuse in the accomplishment thereof? Bias answered the thing that is promised must of necessity be performed. for otherwise he that doth lose the creadite of his word, should lose more than he that should lose the promise to him made. The 5 was, what thing that is wherein the men aswell good as evil should take care? Bias answered, men ought not in any thing to take so great care, as in seeking counsel, and counselours: for the prosperous times cannot be maintained, nor the multitude of enemies resisted, if it be not by wise men and grave counsels. The sixth was, what thing that is wherein men are praised to be negligent? he answered: in one thing only men have licence to be negligent, and that is in choosing of friends. Slowly ought thy friends to be chosen, and they never after for any thing ought to be forsaken. The seventh, what is that which the afflyeted man doth most desire? Bias answered. It is the change of fortune: and the thing which the prosperous man doth most abhor, is to think that fortune is mutable. For the unfortunate man hopeth for every change of fortune to be made better, and the wealthy man feareth through every change to be deprived of his house. These were the questions which the philosophers demanded of Bias in the plays of the mount Olympus, in the 60 Olimpiad. The philosopher Bias lived 95. years, and as he drew near his death, the Prienenses (showing themselves to be marvelous sorrowful for the loss of such a famous man) desired him earnestly to ordain some laws, whereby they might know how to choose captains or some Prince, which after him might govern the Realm. The philosopher Bias understanding their honest requests, gave them certain laws in few words which follow. Of the which the divine Plato maketh mention in his book De legibus, and likewise Aristotle in the book of Occonomices.   

¶ The Laws which Bias gave to the Prienenses  
WE ordain and command that no man be chosen to be prince among the people, unless he be (at least) 40 years of age. For governors ought to be of such age, that neither youth nor small experience should cause them to err in their affairs: nor weakness through overmuch age should hinder them from taking pains. We ordain and command, that none be chosen amongst the Prienenses governor, if he be not well learned in the greek letters. For there is no greater plague in the public weal, then for him to lack wisdom which governeth the same. We ordain and command that there be none amongst the Prienenses chosen governor, unless he hath been brought up in the wars 10. years at the least. For he alone doth know how precious a thing peace is, which by experience hath felt the extreme miseries of war. We ordain and command that if any have been noted to be cruel, that he be not chosen for governor of the people. For that man that is cruel, is likely to be a tyrant. We ordain & command that if the governor of the Prienenses be so hardy or dare presume to break the ancient laws of the people that in such case he be deprived from th'office of the governor, and likewise exiled from the people. For there is nothing that destroyeth sooner a public weal, then to ordain new and fond laws, and to break the good ancient customs. We ordain and command that the governor of the Prienenses do worship and honour the gods, and that he be a lover of the sacred temples. For otherwise he that honoureth not god, will never minister equal justice unto men. We ordain & command that the prince of Prienenses be contented with the wars which his ancestors left him, and that he do not forge new matters to invade any other strange countries: and if perchance he would, that no man in this case be bound neither with money nor in person, to follow or serve him. For the god Apollo told me, that that man which will take another man's goods from him by force, shall lose his own by justice. We ordain and command that the governor of the Prienenses go to pray and worship the gods twice in the week, and likewise to visit them in the temples, and if he do the contrary, he shall not only be deprived of the government, but also after his death he shall not be buried. For the prince that honoureth not god in time of his life: deserveth not his bones should be honoured with sepulture after his death.    

¶ How god from the beginning punished men by his justice, and specially those Princes that despise his Church, and how all wicked Christians are parishioners of hell. Cap. xxii.  
WHen the eternal creator (who measureth the things by his Omnipotency, and weigheth them by his effectual wisdom) created all things, aswell celestial as terrestrial, visible as invisible, corporate as incorporate, not only promised to the good which served him, but also threatened the evil with plagues which offended him. For the justice and mercy of god go always together, to th'intent the one should encourage the good, and the other threaten the evil. This thing seemeth to be true: for that we have but one god, which hath created but one word, wherein he made but one garden, in the which garden there was but one fountain, and near to that fountain he appointed only one man, one woman, and one serpent, near unto which was also one tree only forbidden, which is a thing marvelous to speak, and no less fearful to see: how god did put into the terrestrial paradise (the same day that the creation of the world was finished) booth a sword, and gibbet. The gibbet was the tree forbidden, whereof they did eat: wherefore our fathers were condemned. And the sword was the punishment, wherewith we all (as miserable children) at this day are beheaded. For truly they did eat the bitterness of their fault: and we do feel the grief of the pain. I mean not to show how our God by his power doth raise up that which is beaten down, how with his wisdom he guideth those which are blind, how by his will he dissembleth with the evil doers, neither will I tell how he through his clemency pardoneth the offences, and through his light lighteneth the darkness, nor how through his righteousness he amendeth that which is broken, and through his liberality payeth more than we deserve: But I will here declare at large, how our omnipotent God through his justice chastiseth those which walk not in his paths. O Lord god how sure may thy faithful servants be, for their small services to receive great rewards: and contrary the evil aught always to live in as great fear, lest for their heinous offences thou shouldest give them cruel punishments. For though god of his bounty will not leave any service unrewarded, nor of his justice will omit any evil unpunished: yet for all that we ought to know, that above all, and more than all, he will rigorously chastise those, which maliciously despise the holy catholic faith. For Christ thinketh himself as much injuried of those, which persecute his church: as of those that laid hands on his person, to put him to death. We read that in times past god showed sundry grievous and cruel punishments, to diverse high lords and princes, besides other famous and renowned men. But rigour had never such power in his hand, as it had against those which honoured the infamed Idol, and violated the sacred temples. For to god this is the most heinous offence, to forsake the holy catholic faith in his life, and to despair in his mercy at the hour of his death. Would to god we had so much grace to acknowledge our offences, as god hath reason to punish our sins. For if it were so, them we would amend in time to come, & god would grant us a general pardon for all that is past. I see one thing wherein (as I think) I am not deceived, which is this: that the frailness & miseries which we commit we think them natural, and in the satisfaction and amendment of the same we say they are strange: so that we admit the fault, & condemn the pain which thereby we do deserve. The secret judgements of god do suffer it, and our offences do deserve it: I do not deny but that the evil may hold & possess this life at their pleasure: but I swear unto them, when they shall lest think of it, they shall lose their life to their great displeasure: for the pleasures of this life are so unconstant, that we scarce begin to taste them, when they vade out of their sight. It is a rule infallible, which both of the good & evil hath been proved: that all naturally desire rather to abound than to want: and all that which greatly is desired, with great diligence is searched, and through great travail is obtained: and that thing which by travail is attained, with love is possessed, & that which by love is possessed, with much sorrow is lost, bewailed, & lamented. For in th'end we can not deny, but that the watery eyes do manifestly show the sorrowful hearts. To the fine wits and stout hearts this is a continual torment, and endless pain, & a worm that always gnaweth: to call to mind that he must lose the joyful life, which so entirely he loved: and taste the fearful death, which so greatly he abhorred. Therefore to prove this matter, which I have spoken of before, it is but reason that princes know, if they do not know, that even as the divine providence exalteth them to high estates, they not deserving them: so likewise his rigorous justice will bring them to nought, if they be unthankful for his benefits. For the ingratitude of benefits received, maketh the man not worthy to receive any more. The more a man through benefits is bound, the more grievous punishment (if he be unthankful) he deserveth. All wise men should find (if they apply their minds thereunto) that in chastising god calleth those offences first to his mind, which are furthest from the thoughts of men. For before the tribunal of god, our secret faults are always casting out blood, to th'end he should execute of our persons open justice. And further I say, that in this case I do not see that the prince is exempted more, though he live in great felicity: than the poor labourer, who liveth in extreme misery. And also we see it eftsoons by experience, that the sudden lightning, tempests and the terrible thunder, forsaketh the small & low cottages, & battereth forthwith the great & sumptuous buildings. God's will & determination is, that for as much as he hath exalted them above all others, somuch the more they should acknowledge him for lord above all others: For god did never create high estates because they should work wickedness: but he placed them in that degree, to th'end they should thereby have more occasion to do him service. Every prince that is not a good Christian, a fervent lover of the catholic faith, nor will have any respect to the divine service: let him be assured that in this world he shall lose his renown, and in the other he shall hazard his soul. For that all evil Christians are the parishioners of hell.   

¶ The author proveth by twelve examples that princes are sharply punished when they usurp boldly upon the churches and violate the temples. Cap. xxiii.  

¶ Why the children of Aaron were punished.  
IT is now time that we leave to persuade with words & reasons, and to begin to prove that which we have said, by some excellent histories & notable examples. For in th'end, the hearts of men are stirred more through some little examples, then with a great multitude of words. In the first book of the Levitici, the ten chap is declared, how in the time of Moses, the son in law of jethro priest (that was of Media) who was chief prince of all the image of Seph, with whom the brother of Mary the jepre had charge of the high priesthood. For among all the laws where god at any time put his hands unto, he provided always that some had the government of civil affairs: and others th'administration of the divine mysteries. This high priest had then two children, whose names were Nadab, & Abihu, which two were young & beautiful, stout & sage, & during their infancy served their father, & helped him to do sacrifice. For in the old law they suffered that priests should not only have wives & children: but also that their children should succeed them in their temples, and inherit their benefices. There came a great mischance, for the two children being appareled in white, their bodies bound with stoels, their hands naked, in one hand holding a torch, & in tother the senser, being negligent to light the new fire, & contrary to that the law had ordained, & taking coals which were prohibited, a marvelous thing was seen in the sight of the people, which was, that suddenly these two children fell flat on the earth dead, & all their sacrifice burned. Truly the sentence was marvelous, but it was just enough. For they well deserved to lose their lives, sithen they durst sacrifice the coals of an other. This thing seemed to be true, for those young children saved their souls, & made satisfaction of the fault with their lives: but other wicked men god permitteth to live a short time, because they shall lose their souls for ever.   

¶ The cause why the Azotes were punished.  
THe realm of Palestine being destitute of a king, at that time an honourable old man governed the realm, which was father to two knights, named Albino, and Phinides, for at that time the children of Israel were not governed by kings that did molest them by injuries: but by sage men which did maintain them by justice. It chanced that the Azotes made war against the Palestines, and were a kind of the Arabians, stout, and warrelyke: the which fought so courageously, that the Palestines and hebrews were constrained to bring their Ark into the mids of the battle: which was a relic (as a man should have put the holy sacrament) to divide a great multitude of people. But fortune showed her countenance unto them so frowningly, that they were not only overcome, but also were spoiled of the Ark, which was their chief relic. And besides that, there were .400. Palestines slain. The Azotes carried away the Ark full of relics unto their temple, in the city of Nazote, and set it by Dagon their cursed Idol. The true God (which will not suffer any to be coequal with him in comparison, or in any thing that he representeth) caused this Idol to be shaken, thrown down, and broken in pieces no man touching it. For our god is of such power, that to execute his justice he needeth not worldly help. God not contented thus (though the Idol was broken in pieces) caused those to be punished likewise which worshipped it, in such sort that all the people of Azote, Ascalon, Geth, Acheron, and of Gaza (which were five ancient and renowned cities) were plagued both man and woman inwardly with the disease of the Emeralds, so that they could not eat sitting, nor ride by the ways on horseback. And to th'end that all men might see that their offences were grievous (for the punishment they received by the divine justice) he replenished their houses, places, gardens, seeds, and fields full of rats. And as they had erred in honouring the false Idol, and forsaken the true god, so he would chastise them with two plagues, sending them the Emeralds to torment their bodies, and the rats to destroy their goods. For to him that willingly giveth his soul to the devil, it is but a small matter that god (against his will) deprive him of his goods. This then being thus, I would now gladly know, whether of them committed most offence, either the Azotes which set the Ark in the temple, which (as they thought) was the most holiest: or the Christians, which (without the fear of God) rob and pill the Church goods to their own private commodity in this world. Truly the law of the Azotes differed as much from the Christians, as the offence of the one differeth from the other. For the Azotes erred not, believing that this Ark was the figure of the true God, but we believe it, and confess it, and without shame commit against it infinite vices. By this so rare & sudden a punishment, me thinks that Princes and great Lords should not only therefore acknowledge the true god, but also reverence and honour those things which to him are dedicated. For man's laws (speaking of the reverence of a Prince) do no less condemn him to die, that robbeth his house: then him which violently layeth hands on his person.   

¶ The cause why Prince Oza was punished.  
IN the book which the son of Helcana wrote, that is the second book of the kings, and the sixth Chapter he saith: that the Ark of Israel with his relics (which was Manna, the rod, and two stones) stood in the house of Aminadab, which was the next neighbour to the city of Gibeah, the son of Isaiah (who at that time was king of the Israelites) determined to transpose the relics into his city and house, for it seemed to him a great infamy, that to a mortal Prince, a house should abound for his pleasures: and to the immortal God there should want a temple for his relics.  
The day therefore appointed when they should carry the relic of Gibeah to Bethleem, there met thirty thousand Israelites, with a great number of noble men which came with the king, besides a greater number of strangers. For in such a case those are no which come of their own pleasure, than those which are commanded. Besides all the people, they say that all the nobility of the realm was there, to th'end the relic should be more honoured, & his person better accompanied. It chanced that as the lords and people went singing, and the king in person dancing, the wheel of the chariot began to fall, and go out of the way: the which prince Oza seeing, by chance set to his hand and his shoulder against it, because the ark (where the relic was) should not fall nor break: yet notwithstanding that, suddenly and before them all he fell down dead. Therefore let this punishment be noted, for truly it was fearful, and ye ought to think, that since god (for putting his hand to the chariot to hold it up) struck him with death, that a prince should not hope (seeking the destruction and decay of the church) that god will prolong his life. O princes, great lords, and prelate's, sith Oza with such diligence lost his life, what do ye hope or look for, sith with such negligence ye destroy and suffer the church to fall? Yet once again I do return to exclaim upon you, O princes, and great lords, sith prince Oza deserved such punishment, because without reverence he advanced himself to stay the Ark which fell: what punishment ought ye to have, which through malice help the church to fall.   

¶ Why king Balthasar was punished.  
Darius' king of the Perses and Medes besieged the ancient city of Babylon in Chaldea, whereof Balthasar son of Nabuchodonosor the great was king and lord. Who was so wicked a child, that his father being dead, he caused him to be cut in .300. pieces, & gave him to .300. hawks to be eaten, because he should not revive again to take the goods and riches from him which he had left him. I know not what father is so foolish, that letteth his son live in pleasures, & afterwards the entrails of the hawk wherewith the son hauked, should be the woeful grave of the father, which so many men lamented. This Balthasar then being so besieged, determined one night to make a great feast and banquet to the lords of his realm that came to aid him, and in this he did like a valiant and stout prince, to th'end the Perses and Medes might see that he little esteemed their power. The noble and high hearts do use when they are environed with many travails, to seek occasions to invent pleasures: because to their men they may give greater courage, and to their enemies greater fear. He declareth of Pirrus king of the Epirotes, when he was besieged very straightly in the city of Tharenta, of the Romain captain Quintus Dentatus, that then he spoke unto his captains in this sort. Lords & friends be ye nothing at all abashed (since I never here before saw ye afraid) though the Romans have compassed our bodies, yet we have besieged their hearts. For I let you to wit, that I am of such a complexion, that the straighter they keep my body, the more my heart is at large, And further I say, though the Romans beat down the walls, yet our hearts shall remain invincible. And though there be no wall between us, yet we will make them know that the hearts of Greeks are harder to overcome then the stones of Tarentine are to be beaten down. But returning to king Balthasar. The banquet then being ended, and the greatest part of the night spent, Balthasar the king being very well pleased that the banquet was made to his contentation (though he was not the sobrest in drinking wine) commanded all the cups of gold and silver with the treasure he had, to be brought and set on the table, because all the bidden gests should drink therein. King Balthasar did this, to that end the princes and lords with all his captains, should manfully help him to defend the siege, and also to show that he had much treasure to pay them for their pains. For to say the truth, there is nothing that encourageth men of war more, than to see their reward before their eyes. As they were drinking merrily (at the banquet) of these cups which Nabuchodonosor had rob from the temple of Jerusalem, suddenly by the power of God and the desert of his offences, there appeared a hand in the wall without a body or arm, which with his fingers wrote these words. Mane, Thetel, Phares, which signifieth. O king Balthasar, god hath seen thy life, and findeth that thy malice is now accomplished. He hath commanded that thou and thy realm should be weighed, and hath found that there lacketh a great deal of just weight, wherefore he commandeth, that thy life for thine offences be taken from thee: and that thy realm be put into the hands of the Perses and Medes, which are thine enemies. The vision was not frustrate, for the same night without any longer delay, the execution of the sentence was put in effect by the enemies. The king Balthasar died, the realm was lost, the treasures were rob, the noble men taken, and all the Chaldeans captives. I would now know, sith Balthasar was so extremely punished only for giving his concubines and friends drink in the sacred cups, what pain deserveth princes and prelate's then, which rob the churches for profane things? How wicked so ever Balthasar was, yet he never changed, gave, sold, nor engaged the treasures of the synagogue: but what shall we say & speak of prelate's, which without any shame, waist, change, sell, and spend the church goods. I take it to be lesser offence, to give drink in a chalice as king Balthasar did to one of his concubines: then to enter into the church by simony, as many do now a days. This tyrant was overcome more by folly, than by covetousness: but these others are vanquished with folly, covetousness, and simony. What meaneth this also, that for the offence of Nabuchodonosor in Jerusalem, his son Balthasar should come and be punished. For this truly me think not consonaunt to reason, nor agreeable to man's law: that the father should commit the theft, and the son should requite it with seven double. To this I can answer: that the good child is bound to restore all the good that his father hath left him evil gotten. For he that enjoyeth the theft, deserveth no less punishment, than he that committeth the theft. For in th'end both are thieves, and deserve to be hanged on the gallows of the divine justice.   

¶ Why King Ahab was punished.  
IN the first book of Malachi, that is to weet, in the third book of kings, the viii chap. It is declared, that Asa being king of judea, and prophesying in Jerusalem, at that time Omri was king of Israel, and after him succeeded Ahab his son, being of the age of xxii years. This Ahab was not only young of years but younger of understanding, and was numbered among the wicked kings: not only evil, but to evil: for the scriptures use to call them by names infamed, whose lives deserved no memory. The vices of this king Ahab were sundry and diverse, whereof I will declare some as hereafter followeth. First of all he followed altogether the life and steps of the king Iheroboam, who was the first that enticed the children of Israel to commit Idolatry: which thing turned to his great reproach and infamy. For the Prince erreth not in immitinge the paths of the good: but offendeth in following the ways of the evil. Secondarily this king Ahab married the daughter of the king of the Idumeans, whose name was jesabel, which was of the stock of the gentiles, and he of the hebrews. And for a troth the marriage was unadvisedly considered. For sage Princes should take wife's conformable to their laws and conditions, unless they will repent themselves afterwards. Thirdly he built again the city of Hierico, which by the commandment of God was destroyed, and commanded that upon grievous pains it should not be re-edified again: because the offences that were therein committed were so great, that the inhabitants did not only deserve to lose their lives: but also that in Hierico there should not one stone remain upon an other. Fourthly king Ahab built a sumptuous temple to the Idol Baal, in the city of Samaria, and consecrate a wood unto him which he had very pleasant, and set in the temple his image of fine gold: so that in the reign of this cursed king, Baal the wicked Idol was so highly esteemed, that not only secretly, but also openly they blasphemed the true and living God. The case was such, That one day Ahab going against the king of Syria, to take him and his city called Ramoth Galaath, being in battle was shot into the breast with an arrow, wherewith he not only lost his life, but also the dogs did lap up his blood that fell to the earth. O Princes and great Lords, if you will give credit unto me, you shall have nothing more in recommendation then to be good Christians. Sith ye see that as this Prince in his life did serve strange Idols: so it was reason that after his death, his blood should be buried in the entrails of ravenous dogs.   

¶ Why king Manasses was punished.  
THE king Manasses was the son of Ezechias, and father of Amon, which were all kings. And truly they differed so much in manners, that a man could scarcely judge, whether the virtues and prowesses of the father were more to be desired: or the vice and wickedness of the children to be abhorred. This Manasses was a wicked Prince, for as much as he built new temples to Baal, and in the cities made heremitages for the Idols, and in the mountains repaired all the altars that heretofore were consecrated to the devil. He consecrated many forests and woods to the Idols, he honoured the stars as the gods, and did sacrifice to the planets & elements. For the man that is abandoned by the hand of God, there is no wickedness that his obstinate heart doth not enterprise. So that he had in his Palace all manner of false prophets, as soothsayers, prophesiers, witches, sorcerers, enchanters, & conjurers, the which daily he caused to give sacrifice to the idols: & gave such credit to sorcerers, & enchanters, that his servants were all for the most part sorcerers, and in them was his chief delight and pleasure. And likewise he was skilful in all kind of mischief, and ignorant in all virtues. He was so cruel & spilled somuch innocent blood, that if it had been water put together and the bodies of them that he slew laid on heaps, it would both have covered their carcases and also have drowned the living Yet he not contented with that I have spoken of, set in the Temple of our Lord an old idol that stood in the wood, for the punishment of which fact, God suffered his servants to kill his eldest son. afterward God would not suffer these such sundry mischiefs of man's malice, but of his divine justice caused these words to be proclaimed in Jerusalem Scythe the king Manasses hath been so bold to contemn me, & himself alone to commit th'offences of all, I will chastise him alone with the same correction that he hath showed unto others. By these words let Princes note here, how the divine vengeance extendeth no further, than our offences deserve: so that if our fault be little, the punishment which he giveth us is very temperate, but if the prince be stubborn and obstinate in his wickedness, let him be sure that the punishment shallbe extreme.   

¶ Why julyus, Pompeius, Xerxes, Catilina Germanicus, and Brennus were punished.  
WHen pompeius the great passed into the Orrient, with all the host of the Roman people, and after he had subdued all Sirie, Mesopotamia, Damascus & Arabia: he passed into the realm of Palestin, which otherwise was called judea, where he committed diverse and sundry evils, so that many of the Romans and hebrews died ther. Finally by force of arms he took the puissant city of Jerusalem, which as Plynie saith, was the best of all Asia: And Strabo saith of the situation of the world, that Rome was the chief of all Italy, & of Afrique the principal was Carthage: of Spain, Numantia: of Germany, Argentine: of Caldea, Babilone: of Egypt, Thebes: of Grece Athens: of Phenice. Tira: of Cappadocea, Caesarea: of Thrace, Constantinople: and of palestine, Jerusalem. Pompeius therefore not contented to kill all the ancients in that war, to imprison the youth, to behead the elders, to force the mothers, to defile the virgins, to tear in pieces the children, to beat down buildings, and to rob the treasures: but increasing evil upon evil, and putting all the people to destruction, he made of the Temple a stable for his horses: which before god was abominable, that where always heretofore he had been a conqueror, & had triumphed over 22. kings, ever after he was unlucky and overcome in battle. The famous rebel Catilina (as Saluste affirmeth) had never been overcome, if it had not been for the robbing & destroying of the Temples, which were consecrated to the gods. The noble Marcus Marcellus (to whom no Roman is to be compared in virtues) the same day that he caused the Temple of the goddess Februa to be burnt, was himself slain in battle. The noble Roman captain Drusius Germanicus that was so well willed and beloved, because he gave a calf meat to eat, (which was the god of the Chaldeans) being prohibited & forbidden within a month after died, whose death was greatly lamented in Rome. Suetonius saith, that after julius Cesar, had rob the Temple of the Gauls, the gods always made him afraid in the night. And Xerxes, which was the son of king Darius, when he passed into italy to wage battle, before all other things he sent four thousand horsemen to Delphos (where the Temple of God Apollo was) to beat it down: for the pride of Xerxes was so great that he would not only subdue men, but also conquer the gods. It chanced that even as they approached near the Temple to beat it down, a sudden tempest fell upon them, so that with stones and thunder bolts they were all killed in the fields, and so died.  
Brennus was one of the renowned Captains of the Goths, who sith he had conquered and subdued the Greeks, determined also to rob the treasures of the temples, saying that gods should give unto men, and not men unto gods, and that it was great honour to the gods, that with their goods men should be made rich. But as they began to rob the Temple, there fell a multitude of arrows from heaven that the Captain Brennus died there, and all his men with him, not one left alive. After that Sextus Pompeius was vanquished in the battle by sea, near unto Scicile, by Octavus Angustus, he retired himself into the arks Lacinii, where there was an ancient Temple consecrated to the goddess juno, endued with marvelous treasures. And it chanced one day that his soldiers ask him money, and he being then without, he commanded them to beat down the Temple of the goddess juno, and to pay themselves with the spoil of her treasure. The historiographers say, that within a while after it chanced Sextus Pompeius to be taken of the knights of Marcus Antonius, and when he was brought before Titus' general of the army, he spoke unto him these words.  
I will thou know Sextus Pompeius, I do not condemn the to die for th'offences thou hast committed against my Lord Marcus Antonius. But because thou hast rob and beaten down the Temple of the Goddess juno.  
For thou knowest, that the good Captains ought to forget the offences against men: and to revenge the injuries done unto the Gods.    

¶ How Valentine the Emperor because he was an evil Christian, lost in one day both the Empire and his life, and was burned alive in a sheepcote. Cap. xxiiii.  
WHen julian, the Apostate was Emperor of Rome, he sent to conquer Hongarie, of no just title he had to it, more than of Ambition to unite it, to the Roman Empire. For tyrannous princes use all their force to usurp others realms by cruelty, and little regard whether they may do it by justice. And because the Roman Empire was of great force, this Ambitious Emperor julian, had in that wars a mighty and puissant Army, which did wonderful much harm through all the countries they came. For the fruits of wars is, to bereave the enemies of life, and to spoil the men of their goods. It chanced one day as. 5 knights went out of the camp to make a road, they found a young man that carried a halter in his hand, and as they would have taken it away from him to have tied their horses to let them feed, he was so hardy and stout that he defended himself from them all: so that he had more strength alone then they five altogethers, The Roman knights amazed to see this young man defend himself from them all so stoutly, very instantly desired him to go to the Roman camp with them, and they promised him he should have great entertainment. For the Romans were so diligent, that they would omit no good thing for want of money, so that it were for the public weal. This young man was called Gracian, and was borne and brought up in the country of Pannonia, in a city they called Cibata: his lineage was not of the lowest sort of the people, nor yet of the most esteemed Citizens, but were men that lived by the sweet of their brows, and in love of the common people. And truly it is no small benefit that God had made him of a mean estate: for to be of base lineage, maketh men to be despised and not regarded: and to come of a noble blood and high synage, maketh men to be proud and lofty. This young man being come into the Romans camp, the fame was immediately spread, how that he alone had vanquished five knights. And his strength and courage was so highly esteemed, that within a while after he was made praetor of the army. For the Romans, not according to favour, but according to the habilytie of men, divided the offices and degrees of honour in wars. Time therefore working his nature, and many estates being decayed, after this young Gracian was made praetor of the army, and that he was sufficiently tried in the wars, fortune, which many times bringeth that to pass in a day: that man's malice cannot in many years, raised this Gracian to be Emperor of Rome. For truly one hour of good success is more worth, thenne all worldly favour.  
This Gracian was not only singular in strength, courageous in battle, fortunate in all his affairs: but also he was lucky of children. That is to weet, he had two sons which were Emperors of Rome, the one was called Valente, the other Valentinian. In this case the children might glory to have a father so stout: but the glory of the father is greater to have sons of such nobility. For there is no greater felicity in this world, then during life, to come to honour and riches: & after death, to leave good children to enjoy them. The eldest of the two sons was the Emperor Valente, who ruled in the Orient for the space of four years, & was the xxxix. Emperor of Rome, from julius Cesar: though some do begin at the time of Octavian, saying that he was virtuous, and that julius Cesar usurped the Empire like a tyrant. This Valente was beautiful of person, but poor of virtues: so that he was more beautiful then virtuous, more courageous then merciful, more rich then charitable, more cruel than pitiful. For there are many Princes, that are very expert to devise new orders in a common wealth: but there are few that have stout hearts to put the same in execution. In those days the sect of Arrian the cursed heretic flourished, and the Emperor Valente was greatly blinded therein: in somuch that he did not only favour the Arrians. but also he persecuted the Christians, which was showed for somuch as he killed & caused to be killed (for that occasion) many lay men, & took many clerks, & banished many bishops, overthrew many Churches, rob the goods of the Chrishians, & did infinite other mischiefs in the comcomon wealth, For the prince which is infected with heresy, & liveth without fear of the Church, there is neither mischief nor treason but he will commit. In the deserts of Egipte in the mountains of Armenia and in the cities of Alexandrie, there was a great multitude of friars and religious men, amongst whom were many wise men, and pure of life, constant in the defence of the Church, and patient in persecutions. For he is a true religious man, that in time of peace is charitable to teach the ignorant: and bold in the time of Schisms, to confound the heretics. The Emperor Valente was not only not a friend to the Arrians, & an enemy to the Christians, but also he was a persecutor of the devout and religious friars. For he commanded proclamations, to be had through all his realms and dominions, that all the religious that were young in years, hole of their bodies, and sound of their limbs, should immediately cast of their cowls and hoods, leaving their monastery, and take soldiers wages in the camp. For he said monasteries were invented for nothing else, but to maintain those that were deformed, blind, lame, and maimed, and upon this occasion he showed great tyranny. For many monasteries were left naked, many notable constitutions were broken, many hermits were martyred, many friars whipped, many notable barons banished, and many good men rob of their goods. For the virtuous men desired rather the bitter life of the monastery: then the sweet and pleasant liberty of the world. This Emperor yet not contented with these things, as by chance his wife commended unto him the beauty of a Roman called justina, without any more delay he married her, not forsaking his first wife, and immediately made a law throughout all his Empire, that without incurring any danger, each Christian might have two wives, and marry with them by the law of matrimony. For the tyrannous Princes (to cloak their vices) make and enstablyshe the laws of vices. The shame was not little that the Emperor Valente (against the commandment of the Church) would marry with two women at one time: but the less shame he had, the greater was his iniquity to put it in execution, and to cause it to be published through his realm as a law. For a particular vice corrupteth but one alone, but a general law destroyeth al. At that time the puissant Goths were in the parties of the orient, the which were in feats of arms very valiant and courageous: but in things of faith they were evil brought up, although the greatest part of them were baptized. For then the Church was very poor of prelate's, howbeit those that they had were very notable men. After the Goths were baptized, and the fury of the wars somewhat appeased, they sent Ambassadors to the Emperor Valente, desiring him that immediately and forthwith he would send them holy & catholic Bishops, by whose doctrine they might be instructed and brought to the christian faith. For it was thought that the Emperors of Rome could have no bishops in their countries: unless they were virtuous. This wicked Emperor sith he was now entangled with heresy, and that he had perverted the customs of the good Emperors (that is for having about him evil Bishops) as he was environed with all evils and mischiefs, so he sent to the Goths a bishop called Eudoxius, the which was a rank Arrian, and brought with him many Bishops which were heretics, by the which the kings and Princes of the Goths were Arrians, for the space of 200 years.  
The catholic Princes ought to take great care to watch, and in watching to be ware and circumspect, that they, their Realms, neither their subjects, should in their time be defiled with heresy. For the plague of heretics and heresies is not of light occasion banished the place, where on's it hath reigned. We have declared of the small faith that this Emperor had in jesus Christ, and of the great mischiefs he did to the Church. Let us now see what was the end of his miserable life. For the man of wicked life seldom cometh to good end. The matter was this, that as the Goths were driven out of the Realm by some of the Huns, they came immediately to the Realm of Thracia, which then was subject to the Romans. And the Emperor Valente without any covenant received them into his land, wherein he committed great folly, and used little wisdom. For it is a general rule, where rebels, vagabonds, and strangers come to inhabit, there always the Realm and dominions is destroyed.  
The Goths remained certain years among them without any dissension or quarrelling against the Romans: but afterwards through the covetousness of Maximus chief Captain of the Romans, that denied the Goths of their provision, which so long time remained friends, arose between them so cruel wars, that it was the occasion of the loss and utter undoing both of Rome and of all italy. For truly there is no enmetye doth so much hurt, as that of friends when they fawle out once at discord. The war now being kindled, the Goths were scattered through the Realm of Thrace, and they left no fort but they battered, they came to no villagyes nor cities but they sacked, they took no women but they forced, they entered into no house but they rob. Finally the Goths in short time showed the poison that they had against the Romans. And let no man marvel that the Goths committed so many cruel and heinous facts, sith we that are christians do commit daily greater offences. For among rebels it is a common error, that that which they rob in the wars, they say they are not bound to restore in peace. The Emperor Valente was then in the city of Antioch, and sith he had assembled there a great army, & had great aid out of Italy, he determined himself in person to go into the camp of the Romans, and to give thonset against the Goths, wherein he showed himself more bold than wise. For a Prince in battle can do no more than one man, nor fight more than one man, and if he die, he is the occasion of the death and destruction of them all. When both the hosts of the Romans and the Goths joined, there was between them a cruel and mortal fight: so that in the first brunt the Goths showed themselves so valiant, that they put to flight the Romans horsemen, leaving their footmen alone in great jeopardy, the which in short space after were discomfited and slain not one left alive. For the barbarous swore that that day the Goths should all die, or else utterly they would destroy the name of the Romans. And in this first charge the Emperor Valente was mortally wounded who perceiving he had his death's wound & that the battle was lost, he determined to fire and save himself. But when fortune beginneth to persecute any man, she leaveth him not until she see him dead, or beaten down without recover. Therefore as this wicked Emperor (thinking to save himself) came into a shepecotte, the enemies seeing him, in the end set fire on the sheepcote, and burned him alive. So in one day he lost his person, his life, his honour, and his empire. It is meet that princes and great lords should lift up their eyes to consider well this history of Valente, that they stray not from the Catholic, Church, that they dishonour not Gods ministers, and maintain heresies. For as this accursed Emperor Valente for his wicked doings was condignly punished by the hands of the almighty God: So let them be assured, the self same god will not pardon their offences. For it is a rule infallible, that the prince which is not a good christian, shall fall into the hands of his cruel enemies.  

¶ Of the Emperor Valentinian and Gracian his son, which reigned in the time of saint Ambrose: which because they were good Christians, were always fortunate, and that god giveth victory unto Princes, more through the tears of them that pray, then through the weapons of those that fight.  
I Valentinian and Valent were brothers, and the eldest of them was Valentinian, who succeeded in the Empire (after the death of his father) to be praetor of the armies. For amongs the Romans there was a law in ure, that if the father died in the favour of the people, of right the son without any other demand was heir. This Valentinian was a lusty young man, of a sanguine complexion, and of his body well shaped, and above all he was a good Christian, and of all the people generally well-beloved: For nothing adorneth the noble man more, then to be counted civil and corteous of behaviour. At that time where the Emperor julian persecuted moste the chrisstians, Valentinian was praetor of the armies, and when julian was advertised that Valentinian was a christian, he sent unto him and bade him do sacrifice to the idols of the Roman Emperor, or else to forsake the office of his praetorship. julian would gladly have killed Valentinian, but he durst not: For it was a law inviolable amongs the Romans, that no citizen should be put to death without decree of the Senate. Valentinian receiving the message of this Emperor julian advertised of his will, (which was to renounce his faith or to leave his office) he did not only resign his office but therewithal forgave the Emperor all the money he ought him for arreragies of his service. And because he would live with a more quiet conscience, he went from Rome into a cloister, where he banished himself for two years and a half, and for this he was highly esteemed and commended.  
For it is a good sign that man is a good Christian, which of his own free will renounceth worldly goods. Shortly after It happened that julian the Emperor went to conquer the Realm of Persia, wherein a battle he was very sore wounded, and fell down dead in the present place. For to the mishaps of fortune, the Emperor with all his estate & pleasures is as much subject: as is the poorest man that lieth in the streets. When the news came to Rome that julian was dead, by the consent of all, Valentinian was created Emperor, so that he being banished for Christ's sake, was called again, and crowned Prince of the Roman empire. Let no man care to lose all that he possesseth, let no man way to see himself despised for Christ's sake: For in the end, no men can in a thousand years so much abase us: as god in one hour can exalt us. In the same year, which was from the foundation of Rome a thousand, a hundred, and xix in a city called Atrobata, it reigned very fine wool, so that all the city became rich. In the same year, in the city of Constantinople it hailed such great stones, that they killed many men, & left no herds in the fields alive. At the same time there came an earthquake throughout Italy, & so likewise in Scicille, that many housen fell and slew sundry persons, and above all the sea rose in such sort, that it drowned many cities nigh thereunto. Paulus Diaconus in the xi book De gestibus Romanorum, saith, that the emperor Valentinian was of a subtle wit, of grave countenance, eloquent in speech, yet he spoke little, stout in his affairs, and diligent in his business, in adversities patient, and a great enemy of the vicious, temperate in eating and drinking, & a friend of religious persons: so that they said he resembled the emperor Aurelius. For after that the emperor Marcus Aurelius died (with whom the felicity of the Roman empire ended) they ever used thenceforth in Rome to compare and liken the young and new come princes to the ancient emperors their antecessours. That is to weet: if the prince were courageous, they said he was like julius Caesar, if he were virtuous, they said he was an other Octavian, if he were fortunate, that he was Tiberius, if he were rash, they said he was Caligula, if he were cruel, they compared him to Nero, if he were merciful, they said he was like to trajan or Antonius Pius, if he were beautiful, they likened him to Titus, if he were idle, they compared him to Domitian, if he were patient, they called him Vespasius, if he were temperate they likened him to Adrian if he were devout to their gods, than he seemed Aurelianus, finally he that was sage and virtuous, they compared him to the good Marcus Aurelius. This emperor Valentinian was a good Christian, and in all his affairs touching the empire very wise and circumspect, and yet he was noted for one thing very much, and that was, that he trusted and favoured his servants so much, and was so led by his friends, that through their occasion (they abusing his love and credit) there arose many dissensions amongs the people. Seneca said once to the Emperor Nero, I will that thou understand (Lord) that there is no patience can suffer, that two or three absolutely command all, not for that they are most virtuous: but for that they are most in favour with thee. O princes and great Lords, if you were as I am, I know not what you would do: but if I were as you be, I would behave myself in such sort to them of my house, that they should be servants to serve and obey me, and not boast themselves to be in such favour to command me: For that prince is not sage that to content a few, getteth the hatred of all. The Emperor Valentinian died in the five and fifty year of his birth and eleven year of his Empire, of so long sickness, that his veins were so dried up, that they could not draw one drop of blood out of his body. And at the day of his funerals, where the dead corpse was greatly bewailed. Saint Ambrose made anexcellent sermon in commendation of him, for in those days, when any prince departed that favoured much the Church, all the holy bishops meet at his burial.  
The two brethren being Emperors, that is to weet, Valentinian, and Valent, through the desire of the father in law of Gracian, that was father to his wife, and desirous to have one of his daughters children, chose Valentinian to bring up, who had a son named Gracian: which was created emperor so young, that as yet he had no beard. And truly the Senate would not have suffered it, if the father had not been virtuous, and the child sage. But the Senate would have done this, and more also for Valentinian, because he did deserve it well of the Roman people. For it is reason in distributing of the offices, that princes have more respect to the deserts of the fathers, then to the tender age of the children. This young Gracian began to be so temperate, and was so good a Christian in favouring the church, that it was much quiet, and great pleasure to the Roman people to have chosen him, and greater joy to the father (being alive) to have begotten him: so that he left for him after his death, an immortal memory of his life. For the child that is virtuous, is always the memory of the father after his death.  
In the year of the foundation of Rome a thousand a hundredth thirty and two, she said Gracian the younger was created sole heir of the whole empire, his uncle Valent and his father being departed the world. After Gracian came to the empire, many bishops which were banished in the t me of his uncle Valent, were restored to the curche again, and banished all the sect of the Arrians out of his region. Truly he showed himself to be a very religious and catholic prince. For there is no better justice to confound humane malice, then to establish the good in their estate. In the first year of the reign of Gracian emperor, all the Germans and the Goths rebelled against the Roman empire, for they would not only not obey him, but also they prepared an huge army to invade his empire, Imagining that sith Gracian was young, he neither had the wit nor yet the boldness to resist them. For where the prince is young, there oftimes the people suffered much wrong, and the realm great misery. News come to Rome, how that the Gauls and Germans were up, the emperor Gracian wrote to all the catholic bishops that they should offer in their churches great sacrifices, with prayers unto God, and in Rome likewise it was ordained that generally processions should be had, to the end almighty god should moderate his ire against his people. For good Christians first pacify god with prayers, before they resist their enemies with weapons. This good prince showed himself to be no less warlike in his outward affairs, than a good Christian in his religion. For god giveth victories unto princes, more through tears, then through weapons. These things thus finished, and his affairs unto god recommended, the noble emperor Gracian determined to march on, and himself in person to give the battle. And truly as at the first he showed himself to be a good christian: so now he declared himself to be a valiant emperor. For it were a great infamy and dishonour, that a prince by negligence or cowardness should lose that, which his predecessors by force of arms had gotten. The army of the enemies exceeded far the Romain army in number, and when they met togethers in a place called Argentaria, the Romans being inferior to their enemies in numbered, were afraid. For in the wars the great multitude of enemies and their puissant power, maketh oft times the desired victory to be doubtful. This thing seen of the Romans, and by them considered, importunately they besought the Emperor not to charge the battle, for they said he had not men sufficient. And herein they had reason. For the sage prince should not rashly hazard his person in the war, nor yet should lightly put his life in the hands of fortune. The Emperor Gracian not changing countenance, nor stopping in his words, to all his knights which were about him answered in this wise.    

¶ Of the godly Oration, which the Emperor Gracian made to his soldiers, before he gave the battle. Cap. xxvi.  
Valiant knights, and companions in war, most thankfully I accept your service, in that you have sold your goods, and do offer your lives here to accompany me in the wars, and herein you show your duties: for of right you ought to lose your goods, and to venture your lives, for the defence & surety of your country. But if I give you some thanks for your company, know you that I give much more for your good counsel which presently you give me: for in great conflicts seldom is found together, both good counsel and stout hearts. If I have enterprised this battle in hope of man's power, than you had had reason that we should not give the battle, seeing the great multitude that they have, and the small numbered that we are, for as you say, the weighty affairs of the public weal should not unadvisedly be committed, to the incertainty of fortune. I have taken upon me this dangerous and perilous wars, first trusting that on my part justice remaineth, and sith god is the same only justice, I trust assuredly he will give me the victory in this perilous conflict: For justice availeth princes more that they have, than the men of war do which they lead. Wherefore sith my cause is just, and that I have god the only judge thereof on my side, me thinketh if for any worldly fear I should cease to give the battle, I should both show myself to be a prince of small faith, and also blaspheme god, saying he were of small justice. For god showeth most his power there, where the frailness of man hath lest hope. Then sith I begin the war, and that by me the war is procured, and for me you are come to the war, I have determined to enter into the battle, and if I perish therein, I shallbe sure it shallbe for the memory of my person, and the salvation of my soul. For to die through justice is not to die, but to change death for life. And thus doing if I lose my life, yet therefore I lose not my honour, and all this considered I do that which for the common wealth I am bound. For to a prince it were great infamy and dishonour, that the quarrel being his own, should by the blood of others be revenged. I will prove this day in battle whether I was chosen Emperor by the divine will or not. For if god this day causeth my life to be taken from me, it is a manifest token he hath a better in store for me: and if through his mercy I be preserved, it signifieth that for some other better thing he granteth me life. For in the end the sword of the enemy is but the scourge of our offences. The best that I see therefore in this matter to be done is, that till three days be passed the battle be not given, and that we confess ourselves this night, and in the morning prepare ourselves to receive our redeemer, & besides this that every man pardon his christian brother, if he have had any wrong or injury done him. For oftimes though the demand of the war be just, yet many mishaps befall therein, through the offences of those which pursue and follow the same. After the three days are past, and each thing according to my sayings before accomplished in every point as behoveth, then let god dispose things as he shall see good, for now I am fully determined to adventure my life in battle. Wherefore my valiant and stout warriors, doubt not at all, for this day I must either vanquish mine enemies, or else suffer death: and if I die, I do that which needs I must. Wherefore I will now cease to exhort you any more, desiring you to consider that, whereunto your duty leadeth you, remembering that you are come as knights, and in the defence of your country you wage battle: for now we are come to that pinch, that deeds must more avail us then words. For peace ought to be maintained by the tongue, but wars ought to be achieved by the sword. All these words then ended, and the three days past, the emperor Gracian in parson gave the battle, where the conflict and slaughter on both sides was marvelous terrible: yet in the end the emperor Gracian had the victory over his enemies, and there died in that conflict xxx thousand Goths and Almains, and of the Romans there were not slain but five thousand. For that army only is preserved, which to the divine will is conformable. Let all other princes take example by this noble prince, let them consider how much it availeth them to be good Christians, and that in great wars & conflicts they need not fear the great number of their enemies, but they ought greatly to see that the wrath of god be pacified. For the heart is more dismayed with the secret sins, than it is feared with the open enemies.   

¶ That the captain Theodosius, which was father of the great Emperor Theodosius, died a good Christian. And of the king Hismarus, and the bishop Silvanus, and of a council that was celebrated, with the laws which they made and established in the same. Cap. xxvii.  
THe two brethren being emperors, that is to weet, Valentinian & Valent, in the costs of africa, and the realm of Mauritania, a tyrant usurped the place of a king against the Romans. Who was named Thyrmus, a man hardy in travails, & in dangers stout: For the adventurous hearts oftimes do commit many tyrannies. This tyrant Thyrmus by much cruelty came possessed of the realm of Mauritania, & not contented therewith but also by tyranny possessed a great part of Africa, & prepared (as Hamnibal did) an huge army to pass into Italy, to die in challenging the empire of Rome. This was a renowned tyrant that never took pleasure in any other thing so much, as to spoil & rob others of their goods. The Romans that in all their doings were very sage, & of the tyranny of tyrants sufficiently monished, immediately prepared a great army to pass into africa, & to spoil the realm, and to destroy the tyrant by the commandment and decree of the Senate, and that for no pacte or covenant the tyrant should live. And without doubt this commandment was just. For to him that is a destroyer of the common wealth, it is not punishment enough to take away his life. At that time there was a knight in Rome, whose name was Theodosius, a man well stricken in years, and yet better approved in wars, but he was not the richest: howbeit he vaunted himself (as truth was) to be of the blood of trajan the great Emperor, upon which occasion he was greatly honoured and feared in Rome, for the commons were so noble and gracious towards their princes, that all those which from the good and virtuous Emperor descended, were of the whole common wealth greatly esteemed. This noble Theodosius was of years so ancient, and so honoured in his old age for his grey hears, so noble of lineage, and so approved in wars, that he was by the authority of the Emperor Valentinian, by the consent of all the Senate, and by the good wills of the whole people, chosen to go to the conquest of Africa, and truly their reason was good. For Theodosius desired much to fight against that tyrant Thirmus, and all the people were glad that such a captain led the army. So this Theodosius embarked with his army, departed from Rome, and in few days arrived at Bona, which was a city greatly replenished with people, situated in a haven of the sea in Africa. And as he and his army were landed, the tyrant Thirmus forthwith encamped his army in the field in the face of the Romans, and so all being planted in the plain, the one to assault, and the others to defend: immediately the two armies joined, and the one assaulting the other fiercely, on both sides was great slaughter. So that those which to day were conquered, to morrow did conquer: and those which yesterday were conquerors, afterward remained conquered. For in long wars, fortune changeth. In the province of Mauritania, there was a strong city called Obelista, and as the captain Theodosius by his force occupied all the field, the tyrant Thirmus fortified himself in that city, the which valiantly being assaulted of the captain Theodosius, & almost with his men entering into the same, the tyrant Thirmus (because he would not commit himself unto the faith of other men) slew himself with his proper hands. For the property of proud and disdainful hearts is rather to die in liberty, then to live in captivity. At that time the Emperor Valent, by the art of Necromancy, wrought secretly to know what luck should succeed in the Roman Empire. And by chance a woman being an enchantress had answer of the devil, that the name which with these letters should be written, should be successor to the Empire, and the letters were these. T.E.O.D. The Emperor Valent diligently inquired of all the names, which with these four letters could be named, and they found that those signified the Theodotes, the Theodores, and the Theodoses: wherefore Valent forthwith put all those to the sword that were of that name: Such was the wickedness of the Emperor Valent, supposing they would have taken the Empire from him being alive. For the tyrannous Prince liveth ever in controversy and suspicion. The excellent captain Theodosius (the tyrant Thirmus being dead, and having subdued all Afrique to the Roman Empire) was burdened that he was a secret traitor to the Empire, and that he compassed to win the same by tyranny, for this cause therefore the Emperor Valent gave sentence he should be beheaded. And this was done he never hearing of it, and much less culpable thereof: for all Princes that be wilful in their doings, are very absolute of their sentence. This come to the ears of Theodosius, and seeing that he was condemned to be beheaded, he sent incontinent for the bishop of Carthage, to whom he demanded the water of the holy Baptism, and so being baptized, and in the faith of Christ instructed, was by the hangman put to execution. Of this so grievous, outtragious, and detestable fact every man judged this Theodosius to suffer as an innocent, and that the Emperor Valent had judged evil and like a tyrant. For the innocency of the good, is the great enemy of the evil. At the same time when Theodosius demanded baptism (according to the saying of Prosper in his chronicle) he said unto the bishop, which should baptize him, these words. O bishop saint Roger, I do conjure thee by the creator which made us, and do desire thee for the passion of jesus Christ who redeemed us, to give me the water of baptism: for I have made a vow to become a Christian, if god granted me victory. Wherefore I will accomplish my vow, for those things which necessity causeth us to promise, our own free will ought to accomplish. I am sorry with all my heart that being a Christian I can live no longer, and sith it is so I offer my life for his sake, and into his merciful hands I commend my soul. I leave a son of mine, who is called Theodosius, and if the fatherly love beguile me not, I think he will be a virtuous and stout young man, and besides that he will be wise, and sith by thy hands he hath been baptized, I require thee holy father that thou through thy wisdom wilt bring him up in the true faith: for if he be a good Christian, I trust in god he will be a great man in the Empire. This Theodosius was the father of the great Emperor Theodosius, so that the father was a Christian, and the son a Christian. Not long after the Emperor Valent had caused Theodosius (which was father to the great Emperor Theodosius) to be executed, Valent by the commandment of God was by the Goths persecuted, and in th'end put to death, and truly this was the just judgement of god. For he of right should suffer death himself, which unjustly procureth the death of others. Rufinus in the second book of his histories saith, that after the tyrant Thirmus was put to death by the captain Theodosius, and that the Emperor Valent had caused this Theodosius to be put to death, and that the same Valent was slain of the Goths, the Romans created a king in Africa, whose name was Hismarus, called for a right Christian in that time, which was from the building of Rome .377. There was in the city of Carthage a holy bishop called Silvanus, a man in humane and divine letters excellently well learned, and sith the king was so just, and the bishop so holy, both the faith increased, and also the affairs of the common weal prospered. For commonly the wars begin rather through the pride of the highest, then through disobedience in the lowest. Therefore this holy bishop and good Christian king, being desirous in their time to give good example to the subjects, and for the time to come to leave good precepts, they celebrated in the city of Bona a counsel, with all the bishops of africa, in the which king Hismarus was in person. For in ancient counsels the kings were not only there in persons, but also all the lords and high estates of their Realms. Amongst many excellent things, which Rufinus mentioneth that were ordained in this place, it seemed good unto me to remember here these few, to the end christian princes now present, may see what devout christians those kings were in times passed.  

¶ A collection or Purport of the counsel of Hyponense.  
THese were the things which in the sacred counsel of Hyponense were ordained, where there was in person the catholic king Hismarus, and the religious bishop Silvanus, and in that which was ordained, the king spoke in some of them, and doth counsel in other some. Because in such semblable affairs, it is both meet and requisite, that the royal preheminens be reverenced: and the authority of the Church not diminished. We ordain that from two years to two years all the bishops, abbots, and prelate's of our Realm do assemble and celebrate a provintial counsel, and that in this counsel there be no temporal matters spoken of, but of the disorders and misgovernance of Churches, for the Church is not lost for the lack of scarcity of money: but for the to great abundance of riches.  
We ordain, and all prelate's which are now and shallbe here after we desire that when they will call any counsel in our Realms, that before the celebration of the same they certify us lest that under the colour or cloak of a holy counsel, there should some suspicious assembly be had.  
We ordain that from henceforth the Princes and great Lords be bound to repair to the sacred counsel, with all the company of the holy Bishops. For it were more meet they should come to destroy false heretics, in winning their souls: then to fight against their enemies, in losing their lives. We ordain that the Prince which cometh not to the counsels through negligence, that unto him the Sacrament of the body of Christ be not ministered, until the next counsel be celebrated. And if perchance he refuse not to come through negligence, but through malice, we will that then they proceed against him as a suspect parson in the faith of Christ. For the Christian Prince that of malice only committeth an offence is not parfitte in the holy catholic faith. We ordain that at the first assembly of the counsel, all the prelate's togethers openly, and afterwards each one by himself privately shall say the creed singing, the which thing finished, the King himself alone shall say the creed likewise. For if the prince be suspected of the holy catholic faith, it is unpossible that his people should be good Christians. We ordain that in this counsel the prelate's have liberty and authority to say unto the king that that is comely and decente, and the king likewise to say in the counsel what he think best, so that the prelate's might tell the king without fear of his little care, he hath in destroying the heretics and heresies of his realm: and likewise the king might tell the prelate's their negligence that they use in the charge of their flock. For the end and intention of counsels ought not to be any otherwise then a scourge for offences passed, and a reformation of the evils to come. We ordain that all the princes of Africa, immediately before they do any other thing in the morning, do openly and diligently come to morning prayer: and we will also that there be present all his courtiers and private counsellors, which with them aught to enter into counsel. For that creature can not give any good counsel, who hath not reconciled himself unto god before. We ordain, that the archbishops, Bishops, and abbots, continually during the time of the counsel, do every day confess themselves, to almighty god, serving him devoutly, and that one of them do preach to the people gods word. For if every prelate be bound to give good example alone, then being altogether they shall give it much better. We ordain the princes (as much as lieth in them do give unto their subjects good examples, & that on the sabbotte day in especially & other Festival days they repair unto the cathedral Church to here divine service, & there reconcileng themselves to god, that they publicly in the presence of the congregation receive the holy communion & supper of the Lord. For it would be a great slander to Princes, which ought to reprehend others of their faults, that a man should never see them come to the Church, and be partakers of that holy Sacrament. We ordain, that at Easter chief Princes do go to the church Cathedral and that the Metropolitan be there in person to celebrate the holy communion: and the gospel being said, the Prince himself shallbe bound to say with a loud voice, the creed confirmed in the sacred counsel of Nicene. For the good Princes ought not only in their hearts to be faithful unto jesus Christ, but are also bound openly with their mouths to confess it before the people. We ordain, that Princes be not so hardy to have in their court above two bishops, the one to give him ghostly counsel, and the other to preach unto him the word of God. And those we will that the counsel assign unto him, and that they be bound to find two persons of the most ancient and virtuous, which shall remain in the court no more but two years, and that afterwards others be placed there in their steads. For there is nothing more monstrous, then to see the Church long without prelate's.    

¶ What a goodly thing it is to have but one Prince to rule the public weal: for there is no greater enemy to the common weal, than he which procureth many to command therein, as by reasons following it shallbe proved. Cap. xxviii.  
Oft times with myself alone I consider, that sith the divine providence, which doth all things by weight and measure, and that of her and by none other all creatures are governed, and that furthermore with God there is no acception of persons, for he maketh the one rich, and the other poor: the one sage, and the other simple: the one hole, and other sick: the one fortunate, and the other unlucky: the one servant, and the other master: & let no man marvel though I muse thereat: for the variety of time, is the beginner of dissensions among the people. In man's judgement it seemeth that it were better all were alike in apparel, all equal in commanding, none greater than others in possessions, all to content themselves with one kind of meat, and that the names of commanding and obeying were utterly abolished and brought to nought. So that if the miseries of the one, and prosperities of the other were put out, from that day forward I protest there should be no envy in the world. laying aside man's opinion, (which ought not to be compared to the divine mystery) I demand now what reason sufficed to think, that of two brethren (that is to weet jacob, and Esau, both children of holy and devout persons) the divine providence would the one should be chosen, and the other despised, that the one should command, and the other obey, the one to be disherited being the eldest, and the other to inherit being the youngest? That which chanced to jacob with Esau, the same chanced to the children of jacob and joseph: who being patriarchs and chosen, God provided and ordained that to joseph being the youngest, his brethren should serve and obey him. This thing was repined at of all the eleven brethren, how be it their intentions availed not: for it is unpossible for man's malice to disorder that, which the divine providence hath appointed: we see daily nothing else but that which man decreeth in a long time, god disposeth otherwise in one moment. Truly it is not evil done, but well ordained. For in the end, sith man is man, in few things he can be either certain or assured: and sith God is God, it is unpossible that in any thing he should err. It is a great benefit of the creator, to be willing to reform and correct the works of the creatures. For if God would suffer us to do after our own minds, we should be quite contrary to his pleasure. God without a great mystery did not ordain, that in one family there should be but one father, among one people there should be but one citizen that should command, in one province there should be but one governor alone, and also that one king alone should govern a proud Realm, and likewise that by one only captain a puissant army should be led. And furthermore and above all, he willeth that there be but one Monarchyall king and Lord of the world. Truly all these things are such, that we with our eyes do see them and know them not, we hear them with our ears and understand them not, we speak them with our tongues and know not what we say. For truly man's understanding is so dull, that without doubt he is ignorant of more than he knoweth. Appolonius Thianeus compassing the most part of Asia, Africa, and Europe, that is to say from the bridge of Nilus where Alexander was, unto Gades where the pillars of Hercules were, he being one day in Ephese, in the Temple of Diana, the priests asked him what thing he wondered at most in all the world? for it is a general rule, that men which have seen much, always do note one thing above another. Although the Philosopher Appolonius greatlyer esteemed the works, than the speaking of them that demanded this question, yet forthwith he made them this answer, I let you know priests of Diana, that I have been throughout France England, Spain, Germany, through the Laces, and Lydians, hebrews, and Greeks, Parthes', and Medes, Phrygians, and Corinthians, and so with the Perses, and above all in the great Realm of India: for that alone is more worth, than all these Realms together. I will you understand that all these Realms in many and sundry things do differ, as in languages, persons, beasts, metals, waters, flesh, customs, laws, lands, buildings, in apparel, and forts, and above all divers in their Gods and Temples. For the language of the one differeth not so much from the language of the other: as the Gods of Europe differ from the Gods of Asia, and the Temples and gods of Asia and Europe, differ from them of Africa. amongs all things which I have seen, of two only I did marvel, which is, that in all the parts of the world wherein I have travailed, I have seen quiet men troubled by seditious parsons, the humble subject to the proud, the just obedient to the tyrant, I have seen the cruel commanding the merciful, the coward ruling the hardy, the ignorant teaching the wise, & above all, I saw that the most thieves hung the innocent on the gallows. The other thing whereat I marveled was this, that in all the places & circuit where I have been, I know not, neither could I find any man that was everlasting, but that all are mortal & in the end both high & low have an end: for many are laid to night into their grave, which the next day following thought to be alive. Leave aside the divine judgement, in that he spoke he said highly and like a Philosopher, for it seemeth to be a pleasant thing, to see how men govern the world. Therefore now to the matter, it is but reason we know the cause of this so ancient a novelty, which is: that God willeth and ordeinethe that one only command all, and that all together obey one. For there is nothing that God doth (though the cause thereof be unknown to us) that wanteth reason in his eternal wisdom. In this case speaking like a Christian I say, that if our father Adam had obeyed one only commandment of God, which was forbidden him in the terrestrial Paradise, we had remained in liberty upon the earth, and should have been Lords and masters over al. But sith he would not then obey the Lord, we are now become the slaves of so many Lords. O wicked sine, cursed be thou, sith by the only the world is brought into such a bondage: without tears I cannot speak that which I would, that through our first fathers, (which submitted them selves to sin) we their children have lost the sygnorye of the world. For sith they were prisoners to sin in their hearts: little availeth the liberty of their bodies. There was great diversity betwixt the opinions of Pythagoras, and the opinions of Socrates, for somuch as those of Socrates' school said, that it were better all things should be common, and all men equal. Tother of Pythagoras' school said the contrary, and that the common wealth were better wherein each one had his own proper, and all, should obey one, so that the one of them did admit and grant the name of servants, and thothers did despise the name of Lords. As Laertius in his first book of the life of Philosophers saith, that the Philosopher Demostenes was also of the same opinion, that to the end the people should be well governed, he would two names should be utterly abbolished, and taken a way: that is to weet, Lords and subjects, masters and servants: for the one desirous to rule▪ by fierceness, and thothers not willing to obey by tyranny, would shed the blood of the innocent, and would be violent against the poor: they would destroy the renowned & famous people, and tyrants would wax stout, the which things should be taken away, if there were no sygnorye, nor servitude in the world. But notwithstanding these things, the Philosopher in his first book of his pollitiques saith, that by four natural reasons we may prove it to be very necessary, that Princes do command, and the people obey. The first reason is of the parts of the Elements, simple, and mixed. For we see by experience, that the Elements do suffer (to th'end they would be joined together) the one to have more power than all: the which is showed by experience, forasmuch as the Element of the fire, the Element of the air, and the Element of the water do obey, the Element of the earth doth command. For against their nature he bringeth them all to the earth. But if all the noble and chiefest Elements were obedient to the most vile Element, only to form a body mixed: it is a greater reason, that all obey to one virtuous person, that the common wealth might thereby the better be governed. The second reason is, of the body & the soul, in the armony whereof the soul is the mistress which commandeth, and the body the servant which obeyeth, for the body neither seeth, heareth, nor understandeth without the body. The sage Philosopher by this will infer, that the sage men should naturally be lords over others. For in the world there is nothing more monstrous, than that fools should command, & wise men obey. The third reason taketh his ground on beasts: for we see by experience that divers beasts by th'only knowledge of men are governed, therefore it is but meet that many men, which are more liker beasts than the beasts themselves, do suffer themselves to be governed and ruled by wise men. For the common weal is more profited by a brute beast, than it is by a witless man. The fourth reason proceedeth of women: for we see, that they being created to the image of God, god commandeth and ordaineth that they should be subject to man, presupposing their knowledge not to be so great, as the knowledge of men. Therefore if this thing be thus, why could not diverse mortal men (who with out comparison know less than women) take themselves for happy that one alone would command & govern them: so that such one were a sage & virtuous parson. Scythe man is naturally pollytike, which is to be a friend of company, the company engendereth envy, & afterwards discord nourisheth war, & war bringeth in tyranny, & tyranny destroyeth the common wealth, & the common wealth being lost, all men think their lives in peril. Therefore it is very necessary that in the common wealth many be governed by one alone, for to conclude, there is no common wealth well governed but by one alone. The great travails and inconveniences which the ancients found in times past, were the occasion that it was ordained in the public weal, that all should obey one. Sith that in a camp one only Captain is obeyed, and in the sea one Pilot followed, in the monastery all obey one prelate, and in the Church all obey one bishop, and sins in a hive of bees, one be only leadeth all the rest: it were not reason that men should be without one king, nor the common wealth without a governor, Those men that will not have a king in a common wealth, are like unto drones & wasps which without travail eat the sweet of others. And mine opinion in this case should be, that every man that will not be commanded, as an abject of the common weal should be expulsed and cast out thereof. For in a common wealth there can be no greater enemy than he, that desireth that many should rule therein. In that public weal where one alone hath care for all, & all obey the commandment of one only, there God shallbe served, the people shall profit, the good shallbe esteemed, & the evil despised, and besides that tyrants shallbe suppressed. For a governance of many is not profitable, unless they refer themselves to the judgement of a few, and to the arbiterment of one alone. Oh how man●e people and Realms (because they would not obey their princes by justice) have since by cruel tyrants' been governed with tyranny. For it is even a just plague, that they which desire the sceptres of righteous Princes, should feal and prove the scourge of cruel tyrants. Always it was, and shallbe, that in the world there was one to command, another to obey, one to govern, and another to be governed. In this case let no man say, I am excepted, for until this day there hath no Prince nor knight been seen, but hath travailed under this yoke, I warn and pray, and importunately require you all, that you be loyal, and faithful servants, to the end you may deserve to have loving Lords. For generally the prince that is wicked, causeth his subjects to rebel, & the seditious subject maketh his lord to become a tyrant. It is a great thing to the people, that their Princes be good or evil, For there are no Princes so stable, nor so temperate, that always will dissemble the evil: nor there is no governor so very a tyrant, but sometimes will acknowledge the good. Ofttimes god suffereth, that there be Emperors in the Empire, kings in realms, and governors in the provinces, Lords in the cities, and prelate's in the churches, not all only as that common wealth desireth, nor as the good government requireth: but as the offence of the multitude deserveth. For now a days we see many the have the charge of souls in the church, which deserve not keep the shape in the field. That to be true, plainly it doth appear. For such do not govern but disorder, they do not defend but offend: they do not resist the enemies, but engage & sell the innocent: they are no judges, but tyrants': they are not gentle pastors, but cruel hangmen: they are not incre asers of the common wealth, but distroyers of justice: they are not ordeynors of laws, but inventors of tributes: their hearts wake not to good, but to invent and work all mischief: and finally God sendeth us such prelate's and governors, not for that they should be ministers of his laws, but for that they should be scourges for our offences.   

¶ That in a public weal there is no greater destruction: then where princes daily consent to new orders, and change old customs. Cap. xxix.  
IN the first book of the Kings, the viii. Chapter, of the holy and sacred scripture is said, that Samuel (when he was old) in his stead placed his two sons to govern the people, whose names were johel, and Abiah for that naturally the fathers are desirous to advance their children to honour. The sons of Samuel were resident and held the judgement in the city of Beersheba, which was the fortheste part of judea, and the old Samuel went to dwell in the city Ramah. The honourable and most ancient men (among the people of jerusalem) assembled together and decreed to send Ambassadors to Samuel, which should be the wisest men of all the synagogue. For the ancients in those days were so circumspect that they never committed any affairs of the common wealth, into the hands of young men. The ancients then being arrived at Ramah: spoke these words unto Samuel. Samuel thou art now old, and for thy years thou canst not govern the people, therefore thou like a pitiful father hast committed the government of the people into the hands of thy children.  
Wherefore we let the know in this case, that thy children are covetous. First they do receive bribes of the suitors. And secondarily they do great injury to the people. Therefore we are come to require the to give unto us a king, that may govern us, and that might lead us in battle. For we will no more judges to judge us, but kings for to govern us. The aged Samuel hearing the embassage, was ashamed of that the ancients of judea had told him. First seeing his children to be evil. Secondarily because they would take their offices from them. And truly herein Samuel had just occasion, both to be ashamed & also sorry. For the vices & wickedness of the young children, are swords that pass through the hearts of the old and ancient fathers. Samuel seeing that the hebrews were determined to deprive them of their office, and government of the people, had none other remedy but even to make his moan to god of his grief, & god hearing his complaints said unto him. Samuel be not sad, nor lament not, for their demanding a king (as they do) they do not mislike thy parson, but they dispraise my providence, & marvel not though they forsake thy children, for they are somewhat to young, sith they have forsaken me their god, & worship false idols. Sith they demand a king, I have determined to give them one, but first tell tow them the conditions of the king, which are these. The king whom I will give you, shall take your children, with your chariots & beasts, & shall send them laden with burdens. And yet therewith not contented, he shall make your children posts by the ways, tribunes & centurions in his battles, & shall make them labourers and gardyners in his gardens, he shall make them sow his sedes & past his bread, and furbish his harness, and armour. You shall have beside delicate & tender daughters, the which you shall little enjoy, for the king that I will give you, shall command them to keep & attend those that are wounded in the wars, he shall make them cooks in his palace, and caters of his expenses. The king that I will give you, if he handle your sons and daughters evil, much worse he will handle your goods. For on the beasts & fertile fields that you have, his herd shall feed, he shall gather the best grapes of your vines, he shall choose of your olive trees the best olives & oils, and if any fruit afterwards remain in your fields, he will they shallbe gathered not by you but of his workmen, & afterwards the king that I will give you shall oppress you much more. For of every peck of corn you shall give him one, of ten sheep you must needs give him one, so that of all things which you shall gather, against your wills, you shall give the tenth: of your slaves the king shallbe served sooner than you, and he shall take all your Oxen that labour and travail in your own possessions, & shall bring them to plough in his own ground, and tenements. So that you shall pay tribute, and the king shall take his own profit, for the wealth and commodity of his palace. And all this which I have rehearsed before, the King shall have whom I will give you. The history which here I have declared, is not ovid, neither yet the Eglogges of Virgil, ne yet the feigning of Homer, but it is the sentence & the very word of god. O mortal ignorance, that we demand and know not why nor wherefore, to whom nor where, neither when we demand? which causeth us to fall into sundry errors. For few men are so wise that they offend not in choosing, & that they can ask with reason. The hebrews asked (as they think) the better, and god giveth them the worse: they ask one to govern them, and god giveth them a tyrant to destroy them: they ask one that should maintain them in justice, and he threateneth them with tyranny: they require one that should give them, & he giveth them one which robbeth them: they require one to deliver them from bondage, & he ordaineth one to keep them as slaves. And finally the hebrews trusting to be delivered of their judges, which ruled not according to their appetites, god shall give them a king that shall take they▪ goods from them by force. O how many times ought we to pray unto god to give us princes in our common wealth, & prelate's in our churches, which do know how to govern us, and minister unto us, not according to the weight of our soul, but according to the measure of his mercy. Plato saith in the first book of laws, that one of the most excellent laws which the Siciones had in their province, was to keep the Cities, that they should not change nor alter any thing therein. Truly those Barbarous were sage in doing, and Plato was very discrete to commend them therein. For nothing destroyeth a common wealth sooner, then to suffer changes oftentimes therein. All these things seemed to be true in the hebrews, the which in their government were very rash, and undiscrete. For first they governed themselves by patriarchs, as Abraham was. After they were governed by prophets, as Moses by captains, as joshua: by judges, as Ge●eo: by kings, as David, & after they governed themselves by bishops, as Abdias was: and in the end the hebrews not contented with all these, God suffered that they should fall into the hands of Antiochus, Ptolomeus and Herodes, all tyrants. This punishment fell (according to the just judgement of God) upon them for their offences: for it was even meet, that they that would not enjoy the pleasant liberty of judea, should taste the cruel servitude of babylon. The condition which chanced in the government to the unconstant hebrews: the same happened unto the proud Romans. The which in the beginning of their Empire were governed by kings, afterwards by ten men, then by the consuls, so by the dictator's, by the censors, and afterwards by the Tribunes, and Senators: and in the end, they came to be governed by Emperors, and tyrannous princes. The Romans invented all these alterations in their governments, for none other cause, but to see whether they could be delivered from the commandment of an other. For the Romans in this case were so proud hearted, that they had rather die in liberty, then live in captivity God had so ordained it, and their woeful case did so promise it, when they were above all other kings and realms of the earth, that then the slave should be obedient to his yronnes, and the subject should acknowledge the homage to his master. And though the subjects do move wars, though kings also do win Realms, and Emperors conquer empires: yet will they or nil they (both great & small should acknowledge themselves for servants.  
For during the time of our fleshly life, we can never withdraw ourselves from the yoke of servitude. And say not you Princes, for that you are puissant princes, that you are excepted from servitude of men. For without doubt it is a thing more untolerable, to have their hearts burdened with thoughts, than their necks laden with irons. If a slave be good, they take from him some irons: but to you that are princes, the greater you are, they greater cares you have. For the prince that for his common wealth taketh care, hath not one moment of an hour quiet. A slave hopeth to be delivered in his life, but you can not look to be delivered till after your death.  
They lay irons on the slave by weight, but thoughts burdenne you without measure. For the woeful heart is more burdened with one hour of care: thenne the body is pressed, with twenty pound of iron. A slave or prisoner if he be alone, many times fylethe of his irons, but you Princes that are alone, are more grievously tormented with thoughts: for soletarye places are Arbours, and gardens to woeful and heavy hearts.  
A slave hath nothing to care for but himself alone: but you that be Princes have to satisfy & please all men. For the prince should have a time for himself, & also for those which are above him. The divine Plato said well, that he that should have the  part of a prince, & belonging to a prince, ought to be the prince himself. For to the end the prince should be all his own, he ought to have no part in himself. Though a slave work & travail in the day, yet he sleepeth without care in the night: but you princes pass the days in hearing importunate suetes, & the night in fetching innumerable sighs. finally I say, that in a slave (be it well, or be it evil) all his pain is finished in one year, or is ended at his death: but what shall a woeful prince do when he dieth. If he were good, there is but a short memory of his goodness: and if he hath been evil, his infamy shall never have end. I have spoken these things to the end that great & small, lords and servants should confess and acknowledge, the true signory, to be only unto him, who for to make us lords above, became a servant here beneath.   

¶ When the tyrants' began to reign, and upon what occasion commanding and obeying first began. And how the authority, which the prince hath, is by the ordinance of God. Cap thirty.  
CEasing to speak any further of the poetical histories, & ancient feynings, and speaking the truth according to the divine histories, the first that did love in this world, was our father Adam: who did eat of the fruit forbidden, & that not so much for to trespass the commandment of one, as for not to displease his wife Eue. For many now a days, had rather suffer their conscience a long time to be infected: then one only day to see their wives displeased. The first homicide of the world was cain. The first that died in the world was Abel. The first that had ii wives in the world was Lamech. The first city of the world was by Enoch built in the fields of Edon. The first physician, was Tubalcaim. The first which sailed in that world was Noe. The first tyrant of the world was Nembroth, The first priest was Melchysedech. The first king of the world was Anraphel. The first duke was Moses. The first which was called Emperor in the world, was julius Cesar. For until this time they which governed, were called consuls, Censors & Dictator's. And from julius Cesar hitherto have been called Emperors. The first battle that was given in the world (as we read) was in the wild valleys, which now they call the dead & salt sea. For a great part of that, that then was the main land, is now the dead sea. The holy scriptures cannot deceive us, for it is full of all truth, & by them it is declared, that a thousand & eight hundred years after the world began, there was no battle assembled, nor company that met to fight in the field: for at that time when they had no ambition nor covetousness, they knew not what battle mente. It is reason therefore that in this writing we declare the cause, why the first battle was fought in the world, to the end princes may thereof be advertised, and the curious reader remain therein satisfied. The manner was thus, that Bassa being king of Sodom, Bersa king of Gomorrhe, Senaab king of Adamee, Semebar king of Seboime, and Vale king of Segor, were all five tributaries to Chodor laomor king of the Aelamites, which five kings conspired against him because they would pay him no tribute, and because they would acknowledge no homage unto him.  
For the realms paying tribute, have always rebelled and sowed seditions, This rebellion was in the 13 year of the reign of Chodor Laon●or king of the Aelamytes, and immediately the year following, Anraphel king of Sernaar, Arioch king of Ponte, and Aradal king of the Allotali, joined with Chodor-Laomor. The which altogether began to make wars, to destroy cities & countries upon their enemies. For the old malice of the war is, that where they cannot have their enemies which are in the fault: they put to sack and destroy those which are innocent and guiltless. So the one assaulting, and the other defending, in the end all come to the field, they gave battle as two enemies, and the greatest part was overcome of the fewest, and the fewest remained victorious over the greatest, which thing GOD would suffer in the first battle of the world, to the end princes might take example, that all the mishaps of the wars come not, but because they are begun of an unjust occasion. If Chodor Laomor had held himself contented as his predecessors did, and that he had not conquered Realms in making them subject, and had not caused them to pay tribute: neither they unto him, would have denied reason: nor he with them would have waged battle. For through the covetousness of the one, and the ambition of the other, enmyties grew between the people, This considered which we have spoken of sygnorye, and of those which came into contentions for signoryes, Let us now see from whence the first original of servitude came, and the names of servants and lords which were in the old time, and whether servitude was by the discord of virtuous men, first brought into the world: or else invented by the ambition of tyrants. For when the one commandeth, and the other obeyeth, it is one of the novelties of the world as the holy scripture declareth unto us in this manner. The patriarch Noah had 3. sons, which were Shem, Ham, and japhet, and the second son (which was Ham) begot Cush, and this Cush begot Nimrod. Nimrod made himself a honter of wild beasts, in the woods and mountains, he was the first that began to play the tyrant amongst men, enforcing their persons, and taking their goods, and the scriptures called him Oppressor hominum, which is to say, an oppressor of men. For men of evil life, always commit much evil in a common wealth. He taught the Chaldeans to honour the fire, he was the first that presumed to be an absolute lord, and the first that ever required of men homage and service. This cursed tyrant ended his life in the golden world, wherein all things were in common, with the common wealth. For the ancients used their goods in common: but their wills only they reserved to themselves. They ought not to think it a light matter, for his person to have been a tyrant: but they ought to think it a greater matter, to have been a rebel in a common wealth. And much more they ought to take and esteem it as an evil matter in him, which hath been (as he was) a disturber of the good customs of his country: but the most unjust of all is, to leave behind him any evil custom brought into the common wealth. For if he deserve great infamy which worketh evil in his life: truly he deserveth much more, which travaileth to bring that evil in ure after his death. Eusebius seemeth to affirm, that after this Nimrod had destroyed the realm of Chaldea by his plagues, he came to dwell in Italy with viii. sons, & built the city of Camesa, which afterwards, in Saturn's time was called Valentia, & in the time of Romulus it was called as it is at this present, Rome. And sith this thing was thus, a man ought not to marvel that Rome in ancient time was possessed with tyrants, and with tyrants beaten down, since by so famous & renowned tyrants it was founded. For even as Jerusalem was the daughter of the patient, & the mansion of the quiet kings in Asia: so was Rome the mother of proud princes in Europe. The histories of the gentiles (which knew not the holy scripture) declare in an other sort the beginning of Signorye and servitude, & when they came into the world: for the Idolaters not only did not know the creature of the world: but also they were ignorant of many things which began in the world. They therefore say, that the Tyrant Nimrod (amongst the others) had a son called Belus. & that this Belus was the first, the reigned in the land of Syria, & that he was the first that invented wars on the earth, & that he set up the first monarchy among the Assyrians & in the end he died after he had reigned 60 and 5. years in Asia & left the world in great wars. The first monarchy of the world, was that of the Assyrians, & continued 132. years. The first king was Belus, & the last king was Sardanapalus, whom (at that time when he was slain) they found spinning with women having a distaff in his hand, wherewith they use to spin: & truly this vile death was to good for such a cowardly king. For the prince ought not to defend that with the distaff, that his predecessors had won with the sword. As we have said Nimrod begat Belus: who had to wife Semiramis, which was the mother of Ninus, which Ninus succeeded his father in tyranny, & in the empire also: and both the mother & the son not contented to be Tyrants, invented statues of new gods. For man's malice poursueth rather the evil, which the wicked do invent: then the good which virtuous men begin. We would have showed you how the grandfather & the father, the mother & the son, were Idolaters & warlike, to the end princes and great Lords might see, that they began their empires, more for that they were ambitious parsons, then for that they were good patient: or virtuous men Albeit that Nimerod was the first that ever committed any tyranny, & whether it be true or not, that Belus was the first that invented wars, and that Chodorlaormor was the first that invented battles, and that there be others, whereof the writings make no mention: every man taking for himself, & afterwards all togethers: those were occasions of evil enough in the world, to agree unto those things. Our inclination is greatly to be blamed, for those which have credit for their evil, are many: and those which have power to do well, are very few.   

¶ Of the golden age in times past, and worldly misery which we have at this present. Cap. xxxi.  
IN the first age & golden world, all lived in peace, each man took care for his own lands, every one planted & sowed their trees & corn, everyone gathered his fruits and cut his wines, kned their bread, and brought up their children, and finally all lived by their own proper sweat & travail, so that they all lived without the prejudice or hurt of any other. O worldly malice, O cursed & wicked world, that thou never sufferest things to remain in one estate, and thought I call the cursed, marvel not thereat: for when we are in most prosperity, than thou with death persecutest us most cruelly. Without tears I say not that I will say, that 2000 years of the world were past before we knew what the world ment, god suffering it, and worldly malice inventing it, ploughs were turned into weapons, oxen to horses, goads to lances, whips to arrows, slings to crossbows, simplycitye into malice, travail into Idleness, rest to pain, peace to war, love to hatred, charity to cruelty, justice to tyranny, profit to damage, alms to theft, & above all, faith into Idolatry. And finally the sweet they had to profit in their own goods, they turned to blood shedding, to the damage of the common wealth. And herein the world showeth itself to be a world, herein worldly malice showeth itself to be malicious, in somuch as the one rejoiceth, & the other lamenteth: the one reioceth to stumble, to the end the other may fall & break his neck, the one rejoiceth to be poor, to the end the other may not be rich: the one rejoiceth to be dispraised, to the end the other may not be honoured: the one delighteth to be sad, to the end the other should not be merry: & to conclude we are so wicked, that we banish the good from our own house, to the end that the evil might enter in at the gates of an other man. When the creator created the whole world, he gave to each thing immediately his place: that is to weet, he placed intelligence, in the uppermost heaven: he placed the stars, in the firmament: the planets, in the orbs: the birds in the air: the earth on the centre: the fishes in the water: the serpents, in the holes: the beasts in the mountains: and to all in generally he gave place to rest themselves in. Now let princes and great Lords be vain glorious saying that they are Lords of the earth, for truly of all that is created, god only is the true Lord thereof, because the miserable man for his part, hath but the use of the fruit, for if we think it reasonable that we should enjoy the profit of that which is created: then were it more convenient we should acknowledge god to be the Lord thereof. I do not deny, but confess, the God created all things, to the end they should serve man upon condition, that man should serve God likewise: but when the creature riseth against god, immediately the creator resisteth against man. For it is but reason that he be disobeyed, who one only commandment will not obey. O what evil fortune hath the creature, only for disobeying the commandment of his creator. For if man had kept his commandment in Paradise, god had conserved to the world the signory: but the creatures whom he created for his service, are occasion to him of great troubles: for the ingratitude of benefit, heapeth great sorrow to the discreet heart. It is great pity to behold the man that was in paradise, & that might have been in heaven: & now to see him in the world, & above all to be interred in the entrails of the earth. For in terrestial paradise, he was innocent, & in heaven he had been blessed, but now he is in the world, enuirouned with cares, and afterwards he shallbe thrown into his grave, and gnawn of the worms. Let us now see the disobedience we had in the commandment of GOD, and what fruit we have gathered in the world. For he is very simple, that dare commit any vice, taking no delight nor pleasure thereof in his body. In my opinion, through the sins which our forefathers committed in paradise, the servitude remaineth in us their children which are on the earth. For so much as if I entre into the water I drown, if I touch the fire I burn, if I cone near a dog he biteth me, if I threaten a horse he casteth me, if I resist the wind it bloweth me down, if I persecute the serpent he poisoneth me, if I smite the bear he destroyeth me, and to be brief I say, that the man that without pity eateth men in his life: the worms shall eat his entrails in the grave after his death. O princes & great lords, load yourselves with cloth of gold, heap up your great treasures, assemble many armies, invent jousts & Torneiss, seek your pastimes, revenge yourselves of your enemies, serve yourselves with your subjects, marry your children to mighty kings, & set them in great estate, cause yourselves to be feared of your enemies, employ your bodies to all pleasures, leave great possessions to your heirs, raise sumptuous buildings to leave memory of your persons, I swear by him that shall judge me, that I have more compassion to see your sinful souls, than I have envy to see your vicious lives. For in the end all pastimes will vanish away, and they shall leave you for a gage to the hungry worms of the earth. O if princes did consider (though they have been borne princes, created & nourished in great estates) that the day they are borne, death immediately cometh to seek the end of their life, and taketh them here and there when they are whole, & when they are sick, now tumbling, then rising, he never leaveth them one hour until their woeful burial. Therefore sith it is true (as in deed it is) that that which princes possess in this life is but small, & that which they hope in the other is so great: truly I marvel why princes, the which shall lie so strait in the grave, dare live in such & so great largeness in their life. To be rich, to be lords, & to have great estates, men should not thereof at all be proud, since they see how frail man's condition is: for in th'end life is but lone, but death is enheritage. Death is a patrimony & heritage, which successively is inherited: but life is a right, which daily is surrendered. For death counteth us so much his own, that oftimes vnwa●es he cometh to assault us: & life taketh us such strangers, that oftentimes we not doubting thereof it vanisheth away. If this thing then be true, why will princes & great lords presume to command in a strange house, which is this life: as in their own house which is the grave? Leaving aside the said opinions, I say that for sin only servitude came to dwell in us, & entered into the world: for if there had been no sinners, we ought to believe there had been no lords, nor servants. For as much as servitude generally entered into the world through sin, I say that the signory of princes is by the divine commandment, for he saith: by me the king doth govern, and by me the prince doth minister justice. I conclude in this sort, with this reason, that since it is true princes are sent by the hands of god for to govern us, we are bound in all and for all to obey them: for there is no greater plague in a public weal, then to be disobedient to the prince.   

¶ How king Alexander the great after he had overcome king Darius in Asia, went to conquer the great India, and of that which happened unto him with the Garamantes, and how the good life hath more power than any force of war. Cap. xxxii.  
IN the year of the creation of the world .4970. in the first age of the world, and in the .4027. years of the foundation of Rome, Ia●o being high priest in Jerusalem, Decius and Mamilius at Rome consuls, in the third year of the monarchy of the Greeks, Alexander the great (son to Philipe of Macedonia king) gave the last battle to Darius' king of Persia, wherein king Alexander escaped very sore wounded, & Darius slain, so that the whole Empire of the Perses, came under the governance of the Greeks. For the unfortunate princes do not only lose their lives with which they came into the world: but also the realms which they did inherit. After that Darius was dead, and Alexander saw himself lord of the field, & that the Perses and Medes were become subject to the Grecians: though many kings and lords died in those cruel battles, yet it seemed to Alexander a trifle to be governor of all Asia, wherefore he determined in person to go conquer the great India. For proud and stout hearts, obtaining that which they desire, immediately begin to esteem it as little. All his armies repaired, & placing governors in all the realms of Asia, Alexander departed to conquer the great India: for he had promised and sworn to his gods, that through all the world there should be but one Empire, and that that should be his: and more over that he would never pass through any strange realm or country, but it should give obedience unto him, or else forthwith he would destroy it. For tyrannous hearts have never any regard to the damage of another, until they have obtained their wicked desires. Alexander then going to conquer realms, and destroy provinces, by chance one said unto him, that on the other side of the mountains Riphei (towards the parts of India) was a barbarous nation which were called Garamantes, as yet never conquered, neither by the Perses, Medes, Romans, nor Greeks, neither any of them ever triumphed over them. For they had no weapons, nor esteemed them not, sith they had no riches. King Alexander (who for to subdue realms and strange countries was very diligent and hardy, and to see new things very desirous) determined not only to send to see that country: but also to go himself in person, and in that place to leave of him some memory, which thing forthwith he accomplished. For he left them Altars, as Hercules left in Gades pillars. For man's heart is so stout, that it travaileth not only to compare with many, but also to excel all. The Ambassadors of Alexander were sent to Garamantes, to advertise them of the coming of king Alexander the great, and of the terrible and cruel battles which he in wars had overcome, and to declare unto them how the puissant king Darius was slain, and that all Asia was under his subjection, and how every city did yield themselves, against whom he neither lifted spear nor sword, because all yielded to his commandment. With these and such other like things they would have feared them, for words oftimes maketh men more afraid, specially when they are spoken of stout men: then do the sword of cowards. Lucius Bosco saith, in his third book of the antiquities of the Grecians (of whom the original of this history is drawn) that after the Ambassadors of Alexander had spoken to the Garamantes, they were nothing at all troubled for the message, neither did they fly from Alexander, nor they prepared any war, neither took they in hand any weapons, nor yet they did resist him. Yea and the chiefest of all was, that no man of all the country ever departed out of his house, finally they neither answered the Ambassadors (of Alexander) to their message, nor yet spoke one word unto them. And truly the Garamantes had reason therein, and did in that right wisely: for it is a folly for a man to persuade those men with words, which enterprise any thing of will. It is a marvelous matter to hear tell of the histories of those Garamantes (that is to say) that all their houses were of equal height, all men were apparelled a like, the one had no more authority than another, in feeding they were no gluttons, in drinking wine they were temperate, of pleas and debates they were ignorant, they would suffer no idle man to live among them, they had no weapons, because they had no enemies, and generally they spoke few words, but that which they spoke was always true. King Alexander being somewhat informed of those Garamantes, and their life, determined to send for them, and called them before his presence, and instantly desired them, if they had any wise men among them, to bring them unto him, and by writing or by word of mouth to speak somewhat unto him. For Alexander was such a friend to sage men, that all the realms which he overcame, immediately he gave to his men, excepting the sages which he kept for his own person. Quintus Curtius, by king Alexander sayeth, that a prince doth well spend his treasures to conquer many Realms, only to have the conversation of one wise man. And truly he had reason, for to princes it is more profit, in their life to be accompanied with sages: then after their death, to leave great treasures to their heirs. Certain of those Garamantes then being come before the presence of Alexander the great, one among them (as they thought the most ancientest) himself alone (the residue keeping silence) in the name of them all spoke these words.   

¶ Of an oration which one of the sages of Garamantia made unto king Alexander. A goodly lesson for all ambitious men. Cap. xxxiii.  
IT is a custom king Alexander, amongst us Garamantes, to speak seldom one to another, and scarcely never to speak with strangers, especially if they be busy and unquiet men: for the tongue of an evil man is no other, but a plain demonstration of his envious heart. When they told us of thy coming into this country, immediately we determined not to go out to receive thee, nor to prepare ourselves to resist thee, neither to lift up our eyes to behold thee, nor to open our mouths to salute thee, neither to move our hands to trouble thee, ne yet to make war to offend thee. For greater is the hate that we bear to riches and honours, which thou lovest: then the love is that thou hast to destroy men, and subdue countries, which we abhor. It hath pleased thee we should see thee, not desiring to see thee, and we have obeyed thee, not willing to obey thee, and that we should salute thee, not desirous to salute thee, wherewith we are content, upon condition that thou be patient to hear us. For that which we will say unto thee, shall tend more unto the amendment of thy life: then to dissuade thee from conquering of our country. For it is reason that princes which shall come hereafter do know, why we living so little esteem that which is our own: & why thou dying taking such pains to possess that which is an other man's. O Alexander, I ask thee one thing, and I doubt whether thou canst answer me thereunto or no: for those hearts which are proud, are also most commonly blinded. Tell me whether thou goest? from whence thou comest? what thou meanest? what thou thinkest? what thou desirest? what thou seekest? what thou demandest? what thou searchest? and what thou procurest? and further to what realms and provinces thy disordinate appetite extendeth? without a cause I do not demand thee this question, what is that thou demandest, and what it is that thou seekest: for I think thou thyself knowest not what thou wouldst. For proud and ambitious hearts know not what will satisfy them. Sith thou art ambitious, honour deceiveth thee: sith thou art prodigal, covetousness beguileth thee: sith thou art young, ignorance abuseth thee: and sith thou art proud, all the world laugheth thee to scorn: in such sort, that thou followest men and not reason, thou followest thine own opinion and not the counsel of another, thou embrasest flatterers, and repulsest virtuous men. For princes and noble men had rather be commended with lies, then to be reproved with truth. I can not tell to what end you princes live so deceived, and abused, to have and keep in your palaces more flatterers, jugglers, and fools: then wise and sage men. For in a prince's palace if there be any which extolleth their doings, there are ten thousand which abhor their tyrannies. I perceive by these deeds (Alexander) that the gods will sooner end thy life, than thou wilt end thy wars. The man that is brought up in debates, dissensions, and strife, all his felicity consisteth in burning, destroying, and bloodshedding. I see thee defended with weapons, I see thee accompanied with tyrants, I see thee rob the temples, I see thee without profit waste the treasures, I see thee murder the innocent, and trouble the patient, I see thee evil willed of all, and beloved of none, which is the greatest evil of all evils. Therefore how were it possible for thee to endure such and so great travails, unless thou art a fool, or else because god hath appointed it to chastise thee. The Gods suffer oftentimes that men being quiet, should have some weighty affairs, & that is not for that they should be honoured at this present, but to the end they should be punished for that which is past. Tell me I pray thee, peradventure it is no great folly to empoveryshe many, to make thyself alone rich? it is not (peradventure) folly that one should command by tyranny, and that all the rest lose the possession of their signory? It is not folly perchance to leave (to the damnation of our souls) many memories in the world of our body? It is not folly perchance that the Gods approve thy disordinate appetite alone, and condemn the will and opinion of all the world beside? peradventure it is not folly to win (with the tears of the poor, and comfortless widows) so great and bloody victories? peradventure it is no folly, willingly to wet the earth with the blood of innocentes, only to have a vain glory in this world? Thou thinkest it no folly peradventure, god having divided the world into so many people, that thou shouldest usurp them to thee alone? O Alexander, Alexander, truly such works proceed not from a creature nourished among men on the earth: but rather of one that hath been brought up among the infernal furies of hell. For we are not bound to judge men by the good nature they have: but by their good and evil works which they do. The man is cursed (if he have not been cursed he shallbe cursed) that liveth to the prejudice of all other in this world present: only to be counted courageous, stout, and hardy in time to come. For the gods seldom suffered them to enjoy that quietly in peace, which they have gotten unjustly in the wars. I would ask thee, what insolency moved the to rebel against thy lord king Darius after whose death thou hast sought to conquer all the world, and this thou dost not as a king that is an inheriritour: but as a tyrant that is an oppressor. For him properly we call a tyrant, that without justice and reason taketh that which is an other man's. Either thou searchest justice, or thou searchest peace, or else thou searchest riches, and our honour, thou searchest rest, or else thou searchest favour of thy friends, or thou searchest vengeance of thine enemies. But I swear unto thee (Alexander) that thou shalt not find any of all these things if thou seekest by this means, as thou hast begun: for the sweet sugar is nor of the nature of the bitter gumbe. How shall we believe thou searchest justice, sith against reason and justice, by tyranny thou rulest all the earth? how shall we believe thou searchest peace, sith thou causest them to pay tribute which receiveth thee: and those which resist thee, thou handlest them like enemies? how can we believe that thou searchest rest, sith thou troublest all the world? How can we believe thou searchest gentleness, sith thou art the scourge and sword of humane frailness? how can we believe that thou searchest riches, sith thine own treasure sufficeth thee not, neither that which by the vanquished cometh unto thy hands, nor that which the conquerors offer thee? how shall we believe thou searchest profit to thy friends, sith that of thine old friends thou haste made new enemies? I let thee understand Alexander, that the greatest ought to teach the least, and the least ought to obey the greatest. And friendship is only amongst equals. But thou, sith thou sufferest none in the world to be equal and like unto thee, look not thou to have any friend in the world. For princes oft-times by ingratitude lose faithful friends: and by ambition win mortal enemies. How shall we believe thou searchest revenge of thine enemies, sith thou takest more vengeance of thyself being alive: then thine enemies would take of thee if they took the prisoner? though perchance in times past they used thy father Philip evil, and have now disobeyed thee his son. It were better counsel for thee, to make them thy friends by gentleness: then to confirm them enemies by cruelty. For the noble and pitiful hearts, when they are revenged of any, make of themselves a bucherye.  
We can not with truth say, that thy travails are well employed to win such honour, sith thy conversation and life is so unpleasant. For truly honour consisteth not in that flatterers say, but in that which Lords do. For the great familiarity of the wicked, causeth the life to be suspected. Honour is not gotten by liberal giving of treasures at his death, but by spending it well in his life. For it is a sufficient proof, that the man which esteameth renown, doth little regard money: and it is an apparent token, that man, who little esteameth money, greatly regardeth his renown.  
A man winneth not honour by murdering innocentes, but by destroying tyrants: for all the armonie of the good government of princes is, in the chastising of the evil, and rewarding the good. Honour is not won in taking and snatching the goods of an other, but in giving and spending his own. For there is nothing that beautifieth the majesty of a prince more, than to show his nobleness in extending mercy and favour to his subjects: and giving gifts and rewards to the virtuous. And to conclude, I will let the know who he is, that winneth both honour in this life, and also a perpetual memory after his death: and that is not he which leadeth his life in wars, but he that taketh his death in peace. O Alexander, I see thou art young and that thou desirest honour, wherefore I let thee understand that there is no man farther from honour, than he which procureth and desireth the same. For the ambitious men not obtaining that which they desire, remain always defamed: and in winning and getting that which they search, honour notwithstanding will not follow them. Believe me in one thing Alexander, that the true honour ought through worthy deeds to be deserved, and by no means to be procured: for all the honour that by tyranny is won, in the end by infamy is lost. I am sorry for thee Alexander, for I see thou wantest justice, since thou lovest tyranny. I see thou lackest peace, because thou lovest war. I see thou art not rich, because thou hast made all the world poor. I see thou lackest rest, because thou seekest contention and debate. I see thou hast no honour, because that thou winnest it by infamy. I see thou wantest friends, because thou haste made them thine enemies. Finally I see thou dost not revenge thyself of thy enemies, because thou art (as they would be) the scourge to thyself. Then since it is so, why art thou alive in this world, sith thou lackest virtues for the which life ought to be desired? For truly that man, which without his own profit, and to the damage of another leadeth his life: by justice ought forthwith to lose his breath. For there is nothing that sooner destroyeth the weal public, then to permit unprofitable men therein to live. Therefore speaking the truth, you lords and princes are but poor. I believe thou conquerest the world because thou knowest not thy superior therein, and besides that thou wilt take life from so many, to the end that by their death thou mayest win renown. If cruel and warlike princes (as thou art) should inherit the lives of them whom they slay, to augment and prolong their lives, as they do inheritie goods to maintain their pride, although it were unmeet, than war were tolerable. But what profiteth the servant to lose his life this day, and his masters death to be differred but until the morrow? O Alexander, to be desirous to command much, having respite to live but little: me thinketh it were a great folly and lack of wisdom. Presumptuous and ambitious men which measure their works not with the few days they have to live, but with the arrogant and haughty thoughts they have to command. They lead their life in travail, and take their death with sorrow. And the remedy hereof is, that if the wise man cannot obtain that which he would, he should content himself with that which he may. I let thee know Alexander, that the perfection of men is not to see much, to hear much, to know much, to procure much, to come to much, to travail much, to possess much, and to be able to do much: but it is to be in in the favour of the gods. Finally I tell thee that that man is perfect, who in his own opinion deserveth not that he hath, and in the opinion of another deserveth much more than that he possesseth. We are of this opinion among us, that he is unworthy to have honour, who by such infamous means searcheth for it. And therefore thou Alexander deservest to be slave to many, because thou thinkest to deserve the signory over all. By the immortal gods I swear, I can not imagine the great mischief which entered into thy breast, so unrighteously to kill king Darius (whose vassal and friend thou wert only) because thou wouldst possess the Empire of the whole world? For truly servitude in peace is more worth, than signory in war. And he that shall speak against that I have spoken, I say he is sick and hath lost his taste.   

¶ The sage Garamante continueth his oration, showing that perpetuity of life can not be bought with any worldly treasure. Among other notable matters he maketh mention of the seven laws which they observed. Cap. xxxiiii.  
THou wilt not deny me Alexander, that thou wert more healthful when thou waste king of Macedonia, than thou art now being lord of all the earth: for the excessive travail bringeth men out of all order. Thou wilt not deny me (Alexander) that the more thou gettest, the more thou desirest: for the heart which with covetousness is set on fire, cannot with wood and bows of riches, but with the earth of the grave be satisfied and quenched. Thou wilt not deny me (Alexander) but the abundance that thou thyself hast, seemeth unto thee little, and the little which an other man possesseth, seemeth unto thee much: for the gods, to the ambitious & covetous hearts gave this for penance, that neither with enough nor with to much they should content themselves. Thou wilt not deny me (Alexander) if in deed thy heart be covetous, that first the pleasures of life shall end before thy covetousness: for where vices have had power long time in the heart, there death only and none other hath authority to pluck up the roots. Thou wilt not deny me (Alexander) that though thou hast more than all, yet thou enjoyest least of any: for the prince that possesseth much, is always occupied in defending it: but the prince that hath little, hath time and leisure in quiet to enjoy it. Thou wilt not deny me (Alexander) though thou callest thyself lord of all, yet thou hast but only the name thereof, and others thy servants & subjects have all the profits: for the greedy and covetous hearts do travail and toil to get, and in wasting that which they have gotten they pine away. And finally (Alexander) thou wilt not deny me, that all that which thou hast in the long conquest gotten, is little: and that which of thy wisdom and quietness thou hast lost, is much. For the Realms which thou hast gotten are innumerable, but the cares, sighs, and thoughts which thou hast heaped upon thy heart are infinite. I let the know one thing, that you princes are poorer than the poor subjects: for he is not rich that hath more than he deserveth, but he that desireth to have less then that he possesseth. And therefore princes you have nothing, for though you abound in great treasures: yet you are poor of good desires. Now Alexander let us come to the point, and cast account, and let us see to what end thy conquest will come. Either thou art a man, or thou art a God. And if thou be any of the gods, command or cause that we be immortal: and if thou canst do any such thing, then take us and our goods withal. For perpetuity of the life, by no riches can be bought. O Alexander, I let thee understand, that therefore we seek not to make war with thee: for we see that both from thee and also from us, death will shortly take away the life. For he is a very simple man, that thinketh always to remain in an other man's house, as in his own. If thou Alexander couldst give us as god everlasting life, each man would travail to defend his own house: but sith we know we shall die shortly, we care little whether to thee or any other our goods & riches remain. For if it be folly to dwell in an other man's house as in his own, it is a greater folly to him that loseth his life, in taking thought and lamenting for his goods. Presuppose that thou art not god but a man, I conjure the then by the immortal gods, and do require the that thou live as a man, behave thyself as a man, and covet no more than an other man, neither desire more nor less than a man? for in the end thou shalt die as a man, and shall be buried as a man, and thrown into the grave, & then there shallbe no more memory of thee. I told thee before that it grieved me to see thee so hardy & courageous, so apt and so young, and now it grieveth me to see thee so deceived with the world: and that which I perceive of thee is, that then thou shalt know thy folly, when thou shalt not be able to find any remedy. For if the proud young man before he feeleth the wound, hath all ready the ointment. You which are Grecians call us Barbarous, because we inhabit the mountains. But as touching this I say, that we rejoice to be Barbarous in our speech, and Greeks in our doings: and not as you which have the Grecians tongue, and do Barbarous works. For he that doth well, & speaketh rudely, is no barbarous man: but he which hath the tongue good, and the life evil. Scythe I have begun to that end nothing remained unspoken, I will advertise thee of our laws and life, and marvel not to here it, but desire to observe and keep it: for infinite are they which extol virtuous works, but few are they which observe the same. I let thee wit (Alexander) that we have short life, we are few people, we have little lands, we have little goods, we have no covetousness, we have few laws, we have few houses, we have few friends, and above all we have no enemies. For a wise man ought to be friend to one, and enemy to none. Besides all this we have amongst us great friendships, good peace, great love, much rest, and above all we hold ourselves contented. For it is better to enjoy the quietness of the grave, then to live a discontented life. Our laws are few, but in our opinions they are good, and are in seven words only included as here followeth. We ordain that our children make no more laws than we their fathers do leave unto them: for new laws maketh them forget good and old customs. We ordain that our successors shall have no more Gods than two, of the which the one god shallbe for the life, and the other for the death: for one God well served is more worth, than many not rewarded. We ordain that all be apparelled with one cloth, and hosed of one sort, and that the one have no more apparel than the other: for the diversity of garments edgendreth folly among the people. We ordain that when any woman which is married hath had three children, that then she be separated from her husband: for the abundance of children causeth men to have covetous hearts. And if any woman hath brought forth any more children, than they should be sacrificed unto the gods before her eyes. We ordain that all men and women speak the truth in all things, and if any be taken in a lie, committing no other fault, that immediately he be put to death for the same. For one liar is able to undo a whole multitude. We ordain that no woman live above xl years, and that the man live until fifty, and if they die not before that time, that then they be sacrificed to the gods: for it is a great occasion for men to be vicious, to think that they shall live many years   

¶ That princes ought to consider, for what cause they were made princes, and what Thales the philosopher was, of the xii questions asked him, and of his answer he made unto them. Cap xxxv.  
IT is a comen and an old saying (which many times by Aristotle the noble prince hath been repeated) that in the end all things are done to some purpose: for there is no work (neither good nor evil) but he that doth it, meaneth it to some end. If thou demandest the gardener to what end he watereth so oft his plants, he will answer thee it is to get some money for his herbs. If thou demandest why the river runneth so swift, a man will answer thee that his end is to the sea from whence it came. If thou demandest why the trees bud in the spring time, they will answer, to the end they may bear fruit in harvest. If we see a travailer pass the mountains in the snow, the rivers with peril, the woods in fear, to walk in extreme heat in summer, to wander in the night time in the cold winter, & if by chance a man doth ask one of them saying: friend whether goest thou? wherefore takest thou such pains? and he answereth truly sir I know no more than you to what end, neither can I tell why I take so much pains. I ask thee now what would a wise man answer to this innocent travailer? Truly (hearing no more) he would judge him to be a fool: for he is much infortunate, that for all his travail looketh for no reward. Therefore to our matter, a prince which is begotten as an other man, borne as an other man, liveth as an other man, dieth as an other man, and besides all this commandeth all men, if of such one we should demand why god gave him signory, and that he should answer he knoweth not, but that he was borne unto it, in such case let every man judge, how unworthy such a king is to have such authority. For it is unpossible for a man to minister justice, unless he know before what justice meaneth. Let princes and noble men hear this word, and let them imprint it in their memory, which is, that when the living god determined to make kings and lords in this world, he did not ordain them to eat more than others, to drink more than others, to sleep more than others, to speak more than others, nor to rejoice more than others: but he created them upon condition, that sith he had made them to command more than others, they should be more just in their lives than others. It is a thing most unjust, and in the common wealth very slanderous, to see with what authority a puissant man commandeth those that be virtuous: and with how much shame, himself is bound to all vices. I know not what lord he is that dare punish his subject for one only offence committed, seeing himself to deserve for every deed to be chastised. For it is a monstruous thing that a blind man should take upon him to lead him that seeth. They demanded great Cato the Censor, what a king ought to do that he should be beloved, feared, and not despised, he answered. The good prince should be compared to him that selleth treacle, who if the poison hurt him not, he selleth his treacle well. I mean thereby, that the punishment is taken in good part of the people, which is not ministered by the vicious man. For he that maketh the treacle shall never be credited, unless the proof of his treacle be openly known and tried. I mean that the good life is none other, than a fine treacle to cure the common wealth. And to whom is he more like which with his tongue blazeth virtues, and employeth his deeds to all vices: then unto the man, who in the one hand holdeth poison to take away life, and in the other treacle to resist death? To the end that a lord be wholly obeyed, it is necessary that all that he commandeth be observed first in his own person: for no lord can nor may withdraw himself from virtuous works. This was the answer that Cato the Censor gave, which in mine opinion was spoken more like a Christian, than any Roman. When the true god came into the world, he employed thirty years only in works, and spent but two years and a half in teaching: For man's heart is persuaded more with the work he seeketh, then with the word which he hea●eth. Those therefore which are lords, let them learn and know of him which is the true lord, and also let princes learn why they are princes: for he is not a Pilot which never sailed on the seas. In mine opinion if a prince will know why he is a prince, I would say to govern well his people, to command well, and to maintain all in justice, and this should not be with words to make them afraid, neither by works which should offend them: but by sweet words which should encourage them, and by the good works that should edify them. For the noble and gentle heart can not resist him, that with a loving countenance commandeth. Those which will rule and make tame fierce and wild beasts, do threaten and rebuke them a hundred times, before they beat them once: and if they keep them tied, they show them sundry pleasures. So that the wyldenes of the beast is taken away, only by the gentle and pleasant usage of the man. Therefore sith we have this experience of brute and savage beasts (that is to weet) that by their well doing, and by the gentle handling of them, they vountarily suffer themselves to be governed: much more experience we reasonable men ought to have, that is to know, that being right and well governed, we should humbly and willingly obey our sovereign lords. For there is no man so hard hearted, but by gentle usage will humble himself. O princes and noble men. I will tell you in one word what the lord ought to do, in the government of his common wealth. Every prince that hath his mouth full of troth, his hands open to give rewards, and his ears stopped to lies, and his heart open to mercy, such a one is happy, and the realm which hath him may well be called prosperous, and the people may call themselves fortunate.  
For where as truth, liberality, and clemency ruleth in the heart of a prince, there wrongs, injuries, and oppressions do not reign. And contrariwise where the prince hath his heart flesshed in cruelty, his mouth full of tyrannies, his hands defiled with blood, and inclineth his ears to hear lies, such a prince is unhappy, and much more the people the which by such one is governed. For it is unpossible that there is peace and justice in the common wealth, if he which governeth it, be a lover of lies, and flatterers. In the year four hundredth and forty, before the incarnation of Christ, which was in the year .244. of the foundation of Rome, Darius the fourth being king of Persia, and Brutus and Lucius at Rome Counsulles, Thales the great Philosopher flourished in Greece, who was prince of the seven renowned sages, by the which occasion, all the realm of Greece had and recovered renown. For Greece boasted more of the seven sages which they had, than Rome did of all the valiant captains which she nourished.  
There was at that time much contention between the Romans and the Greeks, for so much as the Greeks said they were better, because they had more sages, and the Romans said the contrary that they were better, because they had always more armies. The Greeks replied again that there were no laws made but in Grece. And the Romans to this answered, that though they were made in Greece, yet they were observed at Rome. The Greeks said, that they had great universities to make wise men in. And the Romans said they had many great temples to worship their Gods in: for that in the end they ought to esteem more one service done to the immortal gods: then all the other commodities that might come unto men. A Theban knight was demanded, what he thought of Rome and Greece? and he answered, me thinks the Romans are no better than the Greeks, nor the Greeks than the Romans. For the Greeks glory in their tongues, and the Romans in their lances. But we refer it to virtuous works. For one good work is more worth, then either the long staves of the Romans, or the eloquent tongues of the Greeks. Therefore touching my matter, this philosopher Thales was the first that found the pole (called the north star) to sail by, and the first that found the division of the years, the quantity of the Son and the Moon, and the first that said souls were immortal, and that the world had a soul. And above all he would never marry, for the care to content the wife, and the thought to bring up the children, doth much dull the wits of wise men. This philosopher Thales was very poor, wherefore (some disdaining him for his poverty) to declare and show that he was more rich than all they, he bought the next year all the olives he could get: for by Astronomy he knew that in the third year there would be a great want and scarcity thereof throughout all the country. Wherefore all were compelled to come to him for Olives, which at his own price he sold: and in this sort he showed them that mocked him, that he willingly despised riches, and lovingly embraced poverty. For he that willingly in this world is poor ought not to be called poor. This philosopher Thales was a mirror amongst the sages of Grece, & was greatly reverenced of all the kings of Asia, & highly renowned in Rome. And further he was so wise and had so ready a wit, that to all sudden questions he was demanded, he gave present answer forthwith: which thing declared him to be of a marvelous wit, and truly it was a great matter. For the most part of mortal men can not tell how to answer, nor what to demand. Many and diverse questions we asked him, as Diogenes Laertius affirmeth, in the answering whereof he showed great wisdom, the treasure of memory, and subtlety of understanding.  
First he was asked what god was, Thales answered: of all the most antiquities God is the most ancient thing. For all the ancients past neither saw him take beginning, nor those which shall come shall see him have ending  
Secondarily he was asked what thing was most beautiful, he answered the world: because no artificial painting could make the like.  
Thirdly he was asked what was the greatest thing, to that he answered, place, wherein all things do stand. For the place which containeth all, of necessity must be greater than all.  
Fourthly it was asked him who knoweth most, he answereth: that no man was wiser than time, because time always only invented new things, and is he which reneweth the old.  
Fiftly they asked him, what was the lightest thing, he answered: the wit of man, because that without travail and dangers it passeth the sea, to discover and compass all the whole earth.  
Sixtly they asked him, what was the strongest thing, he said: the man that is in necessity, for necessity reviveth the understanding of the rude, and causeth the coward to be hardy in peril.  
Seventhly they asked him, what was the hardest thing to know, he answered: for man to know himself, for there should be no contentions in the world if man knew himself.  
Eightly they asked him, what thing was sweetest to obtain, he answered: desire, for the man rejoiceth to remember the pains past, and to obtain to that which he desireth present.  
Ninthly they asked him, when the envious man is quiet, he answered: when he seeth his enemy dead or utterly undone. For truly the prosperity of the enemy is a sharp knife to the envious heart.  
Tenthly he was asked, what man should do to live uprightly, he answered: to take the council to himself, which he giveth to an other. For the undoing of all men is, that they have plenty of council for others, & want for themselves.  
The eleventh question was, they asked him what profit he hath that is not covetous, whereunto he answered: that such a one is delivered from the torments of his avarice, and besides that he recovereth friends for his person: for riches tormenteth the avaritions because he spendeth them not.  
The xii they asked him what the prince should do to govern others, he answered: he ought first to govern himself, and then afterwards to govern others. For it is unpossible the rod should be right, where the shadow is crooked. By the occasion of this last answer I did bring in here all these questions, to the end princes and rulers might see, how that every one of them is as the rod of justice, and that the common wealth is none other but a shadow of them, which in all, and for all aught to be right. For immediately it is perceived in the shadow of the common wealth, if the justice or life of him which governeth be out of his order. Therefore concluding all that I have spoken before, if a prince would ask me why he is a prince, I would tell him in one word only, that he which is the high prince hath made you a prince in this world, to the end you should be a destroyer of heretics, a father of orphans, a friend of sages, a hater of malicious, a scourge of tyrants, a rewarder of good, a defender and protector of Churches, a plague of the wicked, a only lover and friend of the common wealth, and above all you ought to be an upright minister of justice: beginning first with your parson & palace, for in all things amendment is suffered, except in justice, which ought to be equal between the prince and the common wealth.   

¶ What Plutarch the Philosopher was. Of the wise words he spoke to trajan the Emperor, And how the good Prince is the head of the public weal. Cap. xxxvi.  
IN the time of trajan the Emperor, there flourished in his court a Philosopher named Plutarch, a man very pure, and of good life, wise in science, & well esteemed in Rome. For trajan the Emperor desired greatly to have wise men in his company, and to make notable and sumptuous buildings in every place where he came, It is he which wrote the lives of many noble Greeks and Romans, and above all he made a book entituled the doctrine of Princes, which he offered to the Emperor trajan, in the which he showeth his virtues, the zeal which he had to the common wealth, the highness of his eloquence: and the profoundness of his knowledge. For he was elegant in writing, and pleasant in speaking, and among all other things which he wrote in his book, were these words following, worthy to be noted, and written in golden letters: and they are such. I let the to weet Lord trajan, that thou and the Empire are but one mystical body, in manner and form of a lively body, for they ought to be so agreeable, that the Emperor should rejoice to have such subjects, and the Empire ought to be glade to have such a Lord. And to the end we may describe the mystical body, which is the Empire in the form and shape of an natural man, you shall understand that the head which is above all, is the prince which commandeth all: the eyes whereby we see, are the good men in the commonwealth whom we follow: the ears that hear what we say, are the subjects which do what we command them: the tongue wherewith we speak, are the sages of whom we here the laws & doctrines: the hairs which groweth on our heads, are those which are vexed & grieved, and that demand justice of the king: the hands & the arms, are the knights which resist the enemies: the feet which sustaineth the membres, are the tilers of the ground which giveth meat to all estates: the hard bones that sustaineth the feeble & soft flesh, are the sage men which endure the travail of the common wealth: the hearts which we see not outwardly, are the privy councillors: Finally the neck that knitteth the body with the head, is the love of the king and of the Realm, which make a common wealth. All the words above named spoke plutarch the great, to trajan the Emperor. And truly the invention and grace of him, proceeded of a high and deep understanding: for the head hath three properties, which are very necessary for the governor of the common wealth. The first is, that even as the head is of all other members of the body the highest: so the authority of the prince, exceedeth the estates of all others. For the prince only hath authority to command, and all others are bound to obey. Admit therebe many stout, rich, & noble men in the common wealth: yet all aught to know and acknowledge service to the Lord of the same. For the noble and worthy princes, do daily ease many of diverse services, but they will never except any from their loyalty, and allegiance. Those which are valiant, and mighty in a Realm, should content themselves with that, wherewith the battilments do upon a castle, (that is to weet) that they are higher than the rampers wherein men walk on the walls, and lower than the pinakelles which are in the top. For the wise man of high estate, ought not to regard the prince which is the high pinnacle, but aught to look on the alleys which are the poor comfortless. I would speak a word and it grieveth me (that is) whereas great lords desire in the common wealth to command, is like unto him that holdeth his arms and hands over his head. For all that I have herd, and for all that I have red, and also for all that hath chanced in my time, I counsel, admonish, and warn all those which shall come after this time, that if they will enjoy their goods, if they will live in safeguard, and if they will be delivered from tyranny, and live quiet in the common wealth, that they do not agree to have in one realm, above one king, and one lord. For it a general rule, where there are many rulers in a common wealth, in the end both it and all must perish. We see by experience, that nature formed us with many sinews, many bones, with much flesh, with many fingers, and with many teeth, and to all this one only body had but one head, wherefore though with many estates the common wealth is ordained: yet with one prince alone it ought to be ruled, If it consisted in men's hands to make a prince, they would then also have the authority to put him down: but being true, as it is most true in deed, that the prince is constituted by God, none but god alone ought to deprive and depose him of his estate, but things that are measured by the divine judgement, man hath no power with razor to cut them. I know not what ambition the mean can have, neither what envy the lowest can have, nor what pride the highest can have, to command, and not to obey, since we are sure, that in this mystical body of the common wealth he which is most worth, shallbe no more esteemed: then the fingers or paring of the nails, or the falling of an here from the head, Let every man therefore live in peace in his common wealth, and acknowledge obedience unto his prince: & he that will not do so, away with him: for even as the only offence proceedeth of him, so let the only pain rest upon him. For it is an old saying, that he that taketh up the sword against his master, will shortly after lay his head at his feet. The second condition is, to compare the king to the head, because the head is the beginning of man's life. The most part of things that ever god created, according to their natures work their operations, as in growing high, and towards the heavens. We see the vapours ascend high, the plants groweth high, the trees bud out on height, the surges of the sea mount high, and the nature of fire is always to ascend and mount on high, only the miserable man groweth downward and is brought low by reason of the feeble and frail flesh, which is but earth and cometh of earth, and liveth on earth: & in the end returneth to earth again from whence he came. Aristotle saith well, that man is but a tree planted with the roots upward, whose root is the head, and the stock is the body, the branches are the arms, the bark is the flesh, the knots are the bones, the sap is the heart, the rottenness is malice, the gum is love, the flowers are words, and the fruits are the good works. To make the man to go uprightly, his head should be where his feet are, and the feet where the head is, sith the head is the root, & the feet are the bows: but in this case I swear, that we are, correspondaunte to our beginning, for if our flesh be planted contrariwise, so much more contrary we have our life ordered. Therefore concerning our matter I say, that the Realm hath no less his beginning of the king, than the king of the realm: which thing is plainly seen, for that the king giveth laws and institutions to a Realm, and not the Realm to the king. The gifts and benefits which the king giveth, cometh to the Realm, & not from the realm to the king. To invent wars, to take truce, to make peace, to reward the good, and to punish the evil, proceedeth from the king to the Realm, and not to the contrary. For it appertaineth only to the majesty of a prince, to command and ordain: and to the common wealth to authorize and obey him. As in a great sumptuous building it is more dangerous, where one stone of the foundation doth fall, then when ten thousand tiles fall from the top: so he ought more to be blamed for only disobedience committed and done to the king, and his justice, then for five thousand offences against the common wealth. For we have seen of a little disobedience, a great slander arise in a common wealth. O it is a goodly matter for a prince to be beloved of his subjects, and a goodly thing also for the realm to be fearful of their king. For the king that is not loved of his subjects, cannot live in peace nor quiet: and the realm that is not fearful of their king, can not be well governed. The realm Sicilia had always mighty Princes and governors: for in ancient time it was governed by virtuous princes, or else by cruel & malicious tyrants. In the time of Senerus the Emperor, there reigned in Cecil, a king called Lelius Pius, who had so many good things in him, that throughout all the empire he was very well esteemed, and chief for four laws amongst others he ordained in that Realm, which were these following.  
We ordain, that if amongst equal persons there be any injuries offered, that they be punished, or else that they be dissembled: for where envy is rooted between two, it profiteth more to reconsile their good wills, then to punish their persons. We ordain that if the greatest be offended by the least, that such offence be little reproved, & well punished: for the audacity & little shame, & also the disobedience of the servant to the master, ought not to be reform, but by grievous punishment. We ordain, that if any resist or speak against the commandment of a prince, that presently (without delay) he suffer death before them all: for they may boldly by the way of supplication, reverently declare their griefs, and not by slander rebellyously disobey their lords. We ordain, that if any raise the common wealth against the Prince, he that can first strike of his head, may lawfully with out fearing any danger of punishment: for his head is justly taken from him, that would there should be many heads in the common wealth. Of all this before spoken, Herianus is the author, in his fourth book of the kings of Sicily where he putteth many and singular laws and customs which the ancients had to the great confusion of these that be present. For truly the ancients did not only exceed these that be present in their works and doings: but also in speaking profound words. Therefore returning to our matter, man's life greatly travaileth always to defend the head, in such sort that a man would rather suffer his hand to be cut of, then to suffer a wound to be made in his head. By this comparison I mean that a fault in a common wealth, is a cut, which cankereth & festereth, but the disobedience to a prince is a wound which forthwith killeth. If a man did ask me what union princes should have with their common wealth, I would answer them in this sort, that the wealth of the king & realm consisteth herein. That the king should accompany with the good, & banish the evil. For it is unpossible that the king should be beloved of the common wealth, if the company he hath about him be reputed vicious. He should also love his Realm without dissimulation, & the realm should serve him unfeignedly: for the common wealth, which knoweth it to be beloved of their Prince, shall not find any thing to hard for his service. Further that the king use his subjects as his children, and that the subjects serve him as a father: for generally the good father can not suffer his children to be in danger, neither the good children will dissobeye their father. Also the king ought to be just in his commandments, and the subjects faithful. For if it be a good thing in their services, to live under a just law, it is much better to live under a just king. Also the king ought to defend his subjects from enemies, & they ought well to pay him his tribute: for the Prince who defended his people from enemies and tyranny worthily deserveth to be lord of all their goods. Also the king ought to keep his common wealth in quiet, and ought not to be presumptuous of his person: so the prince which is not feared & well esteemed, shall never be obeyed in his commandment. Finally I say, that the good king ought to do his Realm pleasure, and the faithful subjects ought to endeavour themselves never to displease their king. For that prince cannot be called unfortunate, who of his common wealth, is loved and obeyed.   

¶ As there are two senses in the head, smelling and hearing: So likewise the prince which is the head of the common weal ought to here the complaints of all his subjects, and should know them all, to recompense their services. Cap. xxxvii.  
WE have showed, how the prince is the common wealth, and now we will let you understand another notable thing, which is this: that as all senses are in the head, so ought all estates to be in princes. For the verues which are in many spread and scattered: should be in one prince found and gathered. The office of the feet is not to see, but to go: the hands office is not to hear, but to labour: the shoulders not to feel, but to bear: all these offices are not seemly for the membres, which are his subjects, but appertaineth to the king alone to exercise them. For the head to have eyes, and no other members, meaneth nought else, but that only to the prince, and to none other, appertaineth to know all: for julius Cesar knew all those of his host, and named them by their proper names. I counsel, and admonish you, O you princes, which shall hear, see, or read this thing, that you do rejoice to visit, and to be visited, to see, & to be seen: to talk, & to be talked with: for the things which with your eyes you see not you cannot perfectly love. A man ought also to know, that the head only hath ears, to note, that to the king, and to none other, appertaineth to here all, and to keep the gates open for them that have any sewtes: for it is no small matter to a common wealth, to have and obtain of the prince easy audience. Helius Spartiahus commendeth highly trajan the Emperor, that when he was on horseback to go to the wars, alighted again to here the complaint of a poor Roman, which thing was marvelously noted amongst all the Romans: for if men were not vain, they should give a Prince more honour for one work of justice, then for the victory of many battles. Truly to a king it is no pleasure, but rather pain and grief, and also for the common people avoyaunce, that the prince always should be enclosed and shut up. For the prince which shutteth his gates against his subjects, causeth them not to open there hearts willingly to obey him. How many and great slanders doth their arise in the common wealth, only for that the prince sometime will not speak. julius Cesar was Emperor, and the head of all the empire, and because he was musing of weighty matters, & would not hearken to him which would have revealed the treason conspired against him, was that same day with .33. wounds in the Senate murdered. The contrary is red of Marcus Aurelius the Emperor, who was so familiar with all men, that howbeit he was chief of all, and that the affairs which now are divided to many, depended then only of him: yet he never had porter of his gate, nor chamberlain of his chamber, and for any affairs that ever he had to do with many men (were they never so great) he was never longer than one day about them. For truly (if I may say it) that prince is not worthy to be beloved, that is scarce of his words unto those, which faithfully serve him with works: for wise princes should be quick in hearing, and grave in determining. For many come to speak with princes, which think that their counsels shall not be accepted, nor their requests granted, yet they desire importunately to be hard, & of troth the prince ought to hear them, for the heavy heart with sorrows burdened, when it is heard, is greatly lightened, I would know why the sense of smelling is only in the head, and not in the feet, nor in the hands, neither in any other part of the body? truly it signifieth nought else, but that it appertaineth to the Prince (which is head of all) to here and know all, & therefore it is necessary he be informed of all their lives. For the prince cannot govern his common wealth well, unless he knoweth the perticularities thereof. It is necessary that the prince know the good, to the end he may prefer them: for that common wealth is greatly slandered, wherein the evil are not punished, nor the good honoured. It is necessary the prince know the sage, to counsel with them: for the ancient Romans never admitted any for councillors but those which with philosophy were adorned. It is necessary he know the evil for to correct them: for there is a great disorder in that common wealth, where without any shame the wickedness of the wicked, is cloaked and unpunished. It is necessary the prince do know those that are able to teach: for in the court of the Roman princes, there were always captains, which taught & showed how to handle their weapons, and wise men which taught & instructed them scienses. It is necessary the prince know the poor of his realm, for to aid and succour them: for the princes should so govern their common wealth, that among the rich nothing should abound, nor among the poor any thing should want. It is necessary the prince know the presumptuous, & malicious, for to humble them: for the poor by envy, and the rich by pride, heretofore have destroyed great common wealths. It is necessary the prince know the peace keepers, for to keep and maintain them in peace: for it is the duty of a prince, to pluck down the stout stomachs of the proud, and to give wings of favour to the humble. It is necessary that the prince know them which have done him service, to the end they may be rewarded according to their merits: for the stout and noble heart for little favour showed unto him, bindeth himself to accomplish great things. It is necessary the prince know the noble men of his realm, to the end that at time of need, he might retain and take them into his service: for it is but meet, that the man which is adorned with virtue, and nobility, be preferred above all other in the common wealth. Finally I say, the prince should know the murmerers, never to creadite them: and likewise to know those that tell the truth, always to love them. For none should be more familiar, than the wise man to give him counsel, and the upright man to tell the truth. And contrariwise none ought to be more abhorred of the prince, than the flatterer, and ignorant man. O how necessary it is for a prince, to know and understand all things in his Realm, to th'end no man might deceive him, as they do now a days. For the most part of princes are deceived, for none other cause, but for that they will not be counseled, and informed by wise & discrete men. For many croutche unto princes with fair words (as though they meant him good service) but their intent is contrary, by dysceite to get an office, and seek their own profit. Helius Spartianus saith, that Alexander Severus (the xxv. Emperor of Rome) was a man very stout, and virtuous, and amongst all other things they greatly commended him, because in his chamber he had a familiar book, wherein he had written all the nobles of his Realm, and Empire, and when any office was void, they said nothing else to him but that it was void: for the Emperor did not grant it to him that sought it, but (by the secret information of his book) to him that deserved it. I will swear, and all other princes shall affirm the same, that though they err in dystributing their offices, they do not err for that they would err. Yet they cannot deny but that they err grievously, for that they will not be informed, & though they be informed, yet it were better they were not informed at all: for he shall never give the Prince good nor perfect counsel, which (by that counsel) intendeth to have some proper interest, The chiefest thing of Princes is to know how to choose the best in prosperity, and how to avoid the worst in adversity, and to know also how to reward the good men liberally. And truly in this case Princes should have more consideration to them, which have done them worthy service, then to the importunytyes of his familiar friends: for he shall thank the servant that procureth it, but not the Prince that giveth it. All that we speak is to no other purpose, but to persuade, that sith the prince is Lord of all, it is reason that he be informed of the state and condition of al. For otherwise he shallbe deceived by a thousand malicious hearts, which are in the common wealth. Therefore to conclude I say if the prince be not informed of the life of all, the skin will seam flesh, the brain meat, the straw corn, the brass gold, the gall honey, & the dregs good wine, I mean in dividing his offices, thinking to hit the white, he shall oft-times miss the butt.   

¶ Of the great feast the Romans celebrated to the god janus the first day of Ianuarye, and of the bounty and liberality of the Emperor Marcus Aurelius the same day. Cap. xxxviii.  
Among the Solemn Feasts which the ancient Romans used, this was one to the God janus, the which they celebrated the first day of the year, which now is the first of Ianuarye: for the hebrews began their year in March, and the Romans began at Ianuarye. The Romans painted this GOD with two faces, signifying thereby the end of the year past, and the beginning of the year present. To this god janus was dedicated in the city of Rome a sumptous Temple which they called the Temple of peace, and was in great reverence throughout all the city: for the citizens on this day offered great gifts and sacrifices because he should defend them from their enemies. For there is no nation nor people to whom war ever succeeded so prosperously, but that they had rather live in peace then in war. When the Roman Emperors went to the wars or came from the wars, first they visited the Temple of jupiter, secondarily the Temple of the vestal virgins, and thirdly they visited the Temple of the God janus: because there was a law in Rome that the Emperor should at his going forth to the wars visit the Temple of jupiter last of all, and at his return again, the Temple of janus first. And let them that be desirous of antiquities here know, that when the Emperor should go to the wars, in the Temple of the goddess Vesta they put upon his shoulders the royal mantel, and in the Temple of jupiter all the senators kissed his foot, and in the Temple of janus the Consuls kissed his arm. For since the time that the cruel Sylla, caused three thousand neighbours to die which kissed his right hand, they never after kissed the hands of any Emperor in Rome. Therefore sith the gentiles would not issue out of Rome before that first they had taken the benediction of those vain Gods: how much more ought Christian Princes to do it, which know well that their Temples are consecrated to the true God, and ordained for his service only. For the man that forgetteth God, and committeth his affairs to men, shall see how his business will thrive in the hands of men. Therefore proceeding forth, the day wherein the feast of the god janus was celebrated, every man left his work & rejoiced through all the streets of Rome, no more than less than in the feasts of jupiter, Mars, Venus, and Berecinthia: For the feasts of the other gods (sith they were many in number) were not celebrated, but in certain places in Rome. The Romans on that day put on their best apparel, for they had a custom in Rome, that he which had not that day change of apparel to honour the feast, should either go out of Rome or else keep themselves locked in his house. That day, they set on their houses many lights, and made great bondfiers before their doors, and had sundry and many plays, and pastimes, for the feasts of vain men are more to delight their bodies, then to reform their minds. They watched all the night in the Temples, and also they delivered all the prisoners which were inprisoned for debt, and with the common treasures paid their debts. Furthermore they had a custom in Rome, that they should sustain all the Senators (which were fallen into poverty) with the goods of the common wealth. They had that day tables set before their doors, furnished with all sorts of meats, so that that which remained and was left, was more worth: then that which was eaten. For vain glorious men, avaunt themselves more of that, which in banquets and feasts is left, than they do of that which is eaten. They sought all that day for poor men, because they should be provided of all things. For it was an ancient law, that none should be so hardy to make any open feast, except first he had provided for all them of his street. The Romans thought that if they spend liberally that day, the god janus would deliver them from poverty, because he was the God of the temporal goods. And they said further, that the GOD janus was a God very thankful, & acknowledged the services which were done unto him, and believed earnestly that if they spent freely for his sake, he would requite it double In the feast of this God janus many processions were made, not all togethers, but the Senate went by themselves, the censors by themselves, the people by themselves, the Matrons by themselves, the maidens by themselves, the vestal virgins by themselves, & all the strange ambassadors went with the captives in procession. There was a custom in Rome, that the same day the Emperor should were the imperial rob, all the captives which could touch him with their hands were delivered, and all the transgressors pardoned, the exules and outlawryes were called again. For the Roman princes were never present in any feast, but they showed some noble example of mercy, or gentleness towards the people. At this time Marcus Aurelius was Emperor of Rome, and married with the beautiful lady Faustina, who (in the feast of janus) leving in procession the company of the Senators came into the procession of the captives, the which easily touched his rob, whereby they obtained liberty the which they so greatly desired: I say desired for truly the captive is contented with a small thing. And because there is no good thing by any good man done, but immediately by the wicked it is repined at, this deed was so contrary to the evil, as joyful to the good. For there is nothing, be it never so good, nor so well done, but forthwith it shallbe contraried of them that be evil.  
Of this thing I have seen by experience (in this miserable life: sundry examples) that even as among the good one only is noted to be chief: so likewise among the evil one is noted principal above the rest. And the worst I find herein is, that the virtuous do not so much glory of their virtue: as the evil and malicious hath shame and dishonour of their vice: for virtue naturally makleth a man to be temperate and quiet, but vice maketh him to be dissolute and reckless. This is spoken, because in the Senate of Rome there was a Senator called Fuluius, whose beard & hairs were very white, but in malice, he was most cankered black: so that for his years he was honoured in Rome of many, & for his malice he was hated of al. The Senator Fuluius made friends in the time of Adrian to succeed in the empire, and for this cause he had always Marcus Aurelius for his competytour, and wheresoever he came he always spoke evil of him as of his mortal enemy. For the envious heart can never give a man one good word. This Senators heart was so puffed with envy: that he seeing Marcus Aurelius to obtain the empire being so young, & that he being so old could not attain thereunto: there was no good that ever Marcus Aurelius did in the common wealth openly, but it was grudged at by Fuluius, who sought always to deface the same secretly. It is the nature of those which have their hearts enfected with malice, to spit out their poison with words of spite. Oft times I have mused which of these 2. are greater, the duty the good have to speak against the evil, or else the audacity the evil have to speak against the good. For in the world there is no brute beast so hardy, as the evil man is that hath lost his fame. O would to God the good to his desire had as much power to do good works, as the evil hath strength to his affection, to exercise wicked deeds. For the virtuous man findeth not one hand to help him in virtue to work, yet after he hath wrought it, he shall have a thousand evil tongues against his honest doings to speak. I would all those which read this my writing, would call to memory this word (which is) that among evil men the chiefest evil is, that after they have forgotten themselves to be men, and exiled both troth & reason, then with all their might they go against troth and virtue, with their words, and against good deeds with their tongues: for though it be evil to be an evil man, yet it is much worse not to suffer an other to be good, which above all things is to be abhorred and not to be suffered. I let you weet and assure you, you princes & noble men, that you in working virtuous deeds shall not want slanderous tongues, and though you be stout, yet you must be patient to break their malice. For the noble heart fealeth more the envy of an other, than he doth the labour of his own body. Prince's should not be dismayed, neither ought they to marvel, though they be told of the murmuring at their good works: For in the end they are men, they live with men, and cannot escape the miseries of men. For there was never prince in the world yet so high, but he hath been subject to malicious tongues. truly aman ought to take great pity of Princes, whether they be good or evil: for if they be evil, the good hate them: & if they be good, the evil immediately murmureth against them. The Emperor Octavian was very virtuous, yet greatly persecuted with envious tongues, who on a time was demanded (since he did good to all men) why he suffered a few to mumur against him? he answered: you see my friends, he that hath made Rome free from enemies, hath also set at liberty the tongues of malicious men. For it is not reason that the hard stones should be at liberty, and the tender stones tied. Truly this Empepour Octavian by his words declared himself to be a wise man, and of a noble heart, and lightly to way both the murmurings of the people, and also the vanities of their words, which thing truly a wise & virtuous man ought to do. For it is a general rule, that vices continually seek defenders, and virtues always getteth Enemies. In the book of laws the divine Plato saith well, that the evil were always double evil▪ because they wear weapons defensive, to defend their malicious purpose: and also carry weapons offensive, to bleamyshe the good works of others. Virtuous men ought with much study to follow the good, and with more diligence to fly from the evil. For a good man may command all other virtuous men, with a beck of his finger, but to keep himself only from one evil man, he had need both hands, feet, and friends. Themistocles the Thebaine said, that he felt no greater torment in the world than this, that his proper honour should depend upon the Imagination of an other: for it is a cruel thing, that the life and honour of one that is good, should be measured by the tongue of an other that is evil. For as in the forge, the coals can not be kindled without sparks, nor as corruption can not be in the synckes without ordure: so he that hath his heart free from malice, his tongue is occupied always in sweet and pleasant communication. And contrary wise, out of his mouth, whose stomach is infected with malice, proceedeth always words bitter, & full of poison. For if out of a rotten fornayse the fire burneth it is impossible that the smoke should be clear. It is but a small time, that (in profane love) he that is enamoured, is able to refrain his love, and much less time is the wrathful man able to hide his wrath. For the heavy sighs are tokens of the sorrowful heart, and the words are those that disclose the malicious man. Pulio saith in the first book of Caesar's, that the Emperor Marcus Aurelius was very virtuous in all his works, sage in knowledge, just in judgement, merciful in punishment, but above all things he was wise in dissembling, & herein he was very discrete: for there was never patient man but prospered well in all his affairs. We see that through patience and wisdom, many evil things become reasonable, and from reasonable are brought to good, & from good to excellent. The contrary happeneth to them the are moved more than they need, for the man which is not patient, looketh not yet for any good success in his affairs, though they are just. The Emperor Marcus ofttimes was wont to say, that julius Cesar wan the empire by the sword, Augustus was Emperor by Inheritance, Caligula came to it, because his father conquered Germany, Nero governed it with tyranny, Titus was Emperor, for that he subdued ivory, the good trajan came to the empire by his clemency & virtue, but I (saith he) obtained the empire through patience only. For it is a greater patience, to suffer the Injuries of the malicious: then to dispute with the sage in the university. And this Emperor said further in the government of the empire, I have profited more through patience, then by science: for science only profiteth for the quietness of the parson, but patience profiteth the parson, & the common wealth. julius Capitolinus saith, that the Emperor Antonius Pius was a prince very patient, & in such sort, that oftentimes being in the Senate, he saw both those which loved him, & also those that were against him with the people when they did rebel: yet his patience was so great, that neither his friends for the unthankfulness of themselves, remained sad: neither his enemies for any displeasure by him done did at any time complain. Meaning therefore in this chapter to join the end with the beginning▪ I say that as the Emperor Marcus Aurelius put himself amongst that captives, & that this deed in Rome of all men was commended: the Senator Fuluius could not refrain from speaking, for that he had not the wit to endure it, wherefore as it were scoffing he spoke these words to the Emperor. Lord I marvel why thou yieldest thyself to all, which thing for the reputation of the Empire cannot be suffered, for that it is not decent for thy majesty. The Emperor Marcus Aurelius seeing and hearing that in the present of them all, the senator Fuluius spoke unto him these words, he took it patiently and with pleasant countenance said. The questions the Senator Euluius proponeth, let it be for to morrow, because my answer may be the riper, and his collar the quieter. Therefore the next day following, the Emperor Marcus came into the high capitol (as Pulio declareth in the life of Marcus Aurelius) and spoke these words.   

¶ Of the answer the Emperor Marcus Aurelius made to the Senator Fuluius before all the Senate, being reproved of him for his familiarity he used to all, contrary to the majesty and authority of the Roman Emperor, wherein he painteth envious men. Cap. xxxix.  
Father's conscript, and sacred Senate, I would not yesterday answer to that that the Senator Fuluius spoke unto me, because it was somewhat late, and for that we were long in sacrifices, I thought that neither time nor place was convenient to answer thereunto. For it is a sign of a little wisdom, & of great folly, for a man to answer suddenly to every question. The liberty that undiscreet men have to demand, the self same privilege hath the sage for to answer: For though the demand proceed of ignorance, yet the answer ought to proceed of wisdom. truly wise men were well at ease, if to every demand they should answer the simple and malicious: who (for the most part) demand more to vex other men, then for to profit themselves, more for to prove, than to know, wherefore wise men ought to dissemble at such demands. For the sages ought to have their ears open to hear, and their tongue tied because they should not speak. I let you know (ancient fathers, & sacred senate) that the little which I know, I learned in the isle of Rhodes, in Naples, in Capua, and in Tharente. And all tutors told me, that the Intention and end of men to study, was only to know to govern themselves amongst the malicious. For science profiteth nothing else, but to know how to keep his life well ordered, & his tongue well measured. Therefore I protest to god that which I will say before your sacred presence, I will not speak it of any malice or ill will: but only to answer unto that which toucheth the authority of my person. For the things which touch the honour, ought first by word to be answered, & afterwards by sword to be revenged. Therefore now beginning my matter, & addressing my words to the Fuluius, and to that which thou spakest unto me, ask why I show myself so to all men, I answer the. It is because all men should give themselves to me. Thou knowest well Fuluius, that I have been a Consul as thou art, and thou hast not been an Emperor as I am. Therefore believe me in this case, that the prince being despised, cannot be beloved of his people. The gods will not, nor the laws do permyte, neither the common wealth willingly should suffer, that all princes should be lords of many, and that they should not communicate but with a few. For princes which have been gentile in their lives, the ancients have made them gods after their deaths. The fisher, to fish for many fishes in the river, goeth not with one boat alone, nor the Mariner to fish in the deep sea, goeth with one net only. I mean, that the profound wills, which are deeply enclosed in the hearts, ought to be won some by gifts, other by promises, other by pleasant words, and others by gentle entertainment, For princes should travail more to win the hearts of their subjects, then to conquer the Realms of strangers. The greedy and covetous hearts care not, though the prince shutteth up his heart, so that he open his coffers: but noble and valiant men little esteem that which they lock up in their coffers, so that their hearts be open to their friends. For love can never but with love again be requited. Sith Princes are lords of many, of necessity they ought to be served with many: & being served with many, they are bound to satisfy many: and this is as generally, as particularly, they cannot dispense with their servants. For the prince is no less bound to pay the service of his servant, than the master is to pay the wages of the hired labourer. Therefore if this thing be true (as it is) how shall poor princes do, which keep many Realms, & in keeping them they have great expenses, and for to pay such charges they have little money. For in this case, let every man do what he will, and let them take what counsel they like best, I would counsel all others, as I myself have experimented, that is: that the prince should be of so good a conversation, among those which are his, and so affable and familiar with all, that for his good conversation only they should think themselves well paid. For with rewards, princes recompense the travail of their servants: but with gentle words, they rob the hearts of their subjects. We see by experience, that divers merchants had rather by dearer in one shop, because the merchant is pleasant: then to ●ye better cheap in an other, whereas the merchant is churlish. I mean that there are many, which had rather serve a prince, to gain nothing but love only: than to serve an other prince for money. For there is no service better employed, then to him which is honest, good, and gracious: and to the contrary none worse bestowed, then on him which is unthankful and churlish. In prince's palaces there shall never want evil and wicked men, malicious & devilish flatterers, which will seek means to put into their Lords heads how they shall raise their rents, leavy subsidies, invent tributes, and borrow money: but there are none that will tell them, how they shall win the hearts and good wills of their subjects, though they know it more profitable to be well beloved, then necessary to be enriched. He that heapeth treasure for his prince, and separateth him from the love of his people: ought not to be called a faithful servant, but a mortal enemy. Princes and Lords ought greatly to endeavour themselves to be so conversant among their subjects, that they had rather serve for good will: then for the payment of money. For if money want, their service will quail, and hereof proceedeth a thousand inconveniences unto princes, which never happen unto those that have servants, which serve more of good will then for money: for he that loveth with all his heart, is not proud in prosperity, desperate in adversity, neither complaineth he of poverty, nor is discontented being favourless, nor yet abashed with persecution, & finally love and life are never separated, until they come unto the grave. We see by experience, that the rabblement of the poor labourers of Scicil is more worth, than the money of the knights of Rome. For the labourer every time he goeth to the field, bringeth some profit from thence: but every time the knight showeth himself in the market place, he returneth without money. By that comparison I mean, that princes should be affable, easy to talk with all, pleasant, merciful, benign, and stout, and above all that they be gracious and loving, to the end that through these qualities, and not by money, they may learn to win the hearts of their subjects. Prince's should greatly labour to be loved, specially if they will find who shall secure them in adversity, and keep them from evil will and hatred, which those princes can not have that are hated: but rather every man rejoiceth at their fall and misery. For each man enjoyeth his own travail, and truly the furious and sorrowful hearts taketh some rest, to see that others have pity and compassion upon their griefs. Prince's also should endeavour themselves to be loved & well willed, because at their death they may of all their servants and friends be lamented. For princes ought to be such, that they may be prayed for in their life, and lamented and remembered after their death. How cursed is that prince, and also how unhappy is that common wealth, where the servants will not serve their Lord but for reward: and that the Lord doth not love them but for their services. For there is never true love, where there is any particular interest. With many stones a house is builded, and of many men and one prince (which is the head of all) the common wealth is made. For he that governeth the common wealth, may be called a prince, and otherwise not: and the common wealth can not be called nor said a common wealth, if it hath not a prince which is the head thereof. If Geometry do not deceive me, the lime which joineth one stone with an other, suffereth well that it be mingled with sand, but the corner stone that lieth on the top ought to be meddled with unslekyd lime. And it soundeth unto good reason. For if the neither stones separate, the wall openeth: but if the corner should slip, the building incontinently falleth. I suppose (father's conscript) you understand very well to what end I apply this comparison. The love of one neighbour with an other, may suffer to be cold: but the love of a prince to his people, should be true and pure. I mean that the love amongst friends may well pass sometimes though it be cold: but the love between the king and his people, at all times ought to be perfect. For where there is perfect love, there is no feigned words, nor unfaithful service.  
I have seen in Rome many debates among the people to have been pacified in one day: and one only which between the Lord and the common wealth ariseth, can not be pacified until death. For it is a dangerous thing for one to strive with many, and for many to contend against one. In this case, where the one is proud, and the other rebels, I will not excuse the prince, nor let to condemn the people. For in the end he that thinketh himself most innocent, deserveth greatest blame. From whence think you cometh it, that Lords now a days do command unjust things by fury, & that subjects in just matters will not obey by reason. I will tell you.  
The Lord doing of will, and not of right, would cast the wills of all in his own brain, and derive from himself all counsel. For even as princes are of greater power than all the rest: so they think they know more than all the rest. The contrary happeneth to subjects, who (being provoked I can not tell you with what frenzy) despising the good understanding of their Lord, will not obey that that their princes willeth, for the health of them all, but that which every man desireth for himself particularly. For men now a days are so fond, that every man thinketh the prince should look on him alone. Truly it is a strange thing (though it be much used among men) that one should desire that the garments of all other should be meet for him: which is as impossible, as one man's armour should arm a multitude. But what shall we be (Father's conscript and sacred senate) sith our fathers left us this world with such folly, and that in these debates & strifes, we their children, are always in dissension and controversy, and in this wilfulness, we shall also leave our children and heirs. How many princes have I seen and read of in my time, of my predecessors, which were utterly undone, by to much pride and presumption: But I never read nor heard of any, which were destroyed for being courteous, and loving to his subjects. I will declare by some examples, which I have read in books, to the end that the Lords may see what they win by their good conversation, and what they lose by being to haulty. The realm of the Sydonians was greater than that of the Chaldeans in weapons, and inferior in antiquity, unto that of the Assyrians. In this realm there was Debastia, which was called a lineage of kings, that endured two hundredth and xxv years, because all those kings were of a commendable conversation. And an other of Debastia endured no longer than forty years. And our ancients took pleasure of peace, whereof we are destitute: and were ignorant of the wars, which we now use so much. Always they desired to have kings which should be good for the common wealth in peace, rather than valiant and courageous for the war. As Homer in his Iliad saith: the ancient Egyptians called their kings Epiphanes, and had a custom, that Epiphanes always should enter into the temples barefoot. And because it chanced the Epiphane on a time to come into the church hoased, he was immediately for his disobedience deprived, and expulsed from the realm, and in his stead an other created. Homer declareth here, that this king was proud, & evil conditioned, wherefore the Egyptians deprived him, and banished him the realm, taking occasion that he did not enter into the temple barefoot. For truly when Lords are evil willed, and not beloved, for a little trifle and occasion the people will arise and rebel against them. The said Homer said also, that the Parthes' called their kings Assacides, & that the sixth of that name was deprived and expulsed the realm, for that of presumption he had himself to the marriage of a knight, and being bidden and desired, would not go to the marriage of a poor Plebeian. Cicero in his Tusculans saith, that in old time the people persuaded their princes to communicate with the poor, & that they should abstain and fly from the rich. For among the poor they may learn to be merciful, and with the rich they shall learn nothing but to be proud. Ye know right well (Father's conscript) how this our country was first called great Grece, afterward it was called Latium, and then Italy. And when it was called Latium, they called their kings Marrani, and truly though their borders were but narrow: yet at the least their stoutness was great. The Annals of those times say, that after the third Silvius, succeeded a Marrane who was proud, ambitious, and evil conditioned, in such sort, that for fear of the people, always he slept locked up: and therefore they deprived and banished him the Realm. For the ancients said, that the king should lock his doors at no hour of the night against his subjects, neither he should refuse in the day to give them audience. Tarquin which was the last of the seven kings of Rome, was very unthankful towards his father in law, he was an infamy to his blood, a traitor to his country, and cruel of his person, who also enforced the noble Lucretia, and yet notwithstanding this, they do not call him unthankful, infamous, cruel, traitor, nor adulterer: but Tarquin the proud, only for that he was evil conditioned. By the faith of a good man I swear unto you (Father's conscript) that if the miserable Tarquin had been beloved in Rome, he had never been deprived of the Realm, for committing adultery with Lucretia: for in the end if every light offence which in youth is committed, should be punished, within short space there should be no common wealth. All these evils (both before and after Tarquin) were committed by the ancients in the Roman empire, which were such as these (of this young and light prince) and were nothing in comparison unto thee. For truly considering the youth of the one, and the experience of the other: the greatest offence of the young, is but a counterfeit to the least that the old committeth. julius Caesar last dictator, and first Emperor of Rome, (being a thing commendable both to Senators to salute the Emperor on their knees, and to the Emperor to rise against them and resalute each one according to his order) because of presumption, and that he would not observe this ceremony, with xxiii wounds they dispatched him of his life. Tiberius was an Emperor, whom they blame for drunkenness, and Caligula was an Emperor also, whom they accuse of incest with his sisters. Nero was an Emperor, who (for that he slew his mother, and his master Seneca) hath for ever been named cruel. Sergius Galba was a devouring and gluttonous Emperor, for that he caused for one only banquet seven thousand birds to be killed. Domitian was an Emperor, who was greatly noted of all evils. For all evils which in many were scattered, in him alone were found. All these miserable princes in the end were betrayed, hanged, and beheaded. And I swear unto ye (fathers conscript) that they died not for their vices, but because they were proud, and evil conditioned. For finally the prince for one vice only cannot much endamage the people: but for being to haulty, and presumptuous, & of evil conditions, he may destroy a common wealth. Let princes and great lords be assured, that if they give many occasions of evil will, afterwards one only sufficeth, to stir their subjects to destroy them. For if the lord show not his hatred, it is for that he will not: but if the subject do not revenge, it is for that he cannot. Believe me (father's conscript, and sacred Senate) that even as the Physicians with a little treacle purge many evil humours of the body: so the sage Princes with very little benevolence, draw out of their subjects much filthiness of heart, diverting their ill wills into true and faithful love. And because the members should be agreeable with the head, in mine opinion it behoveth the people to obey the commandment of the prince, and to honour and reverence his person: and the good prince to be just and equal to all in generally, and gentle in conversation with every one. O happy common wealth, wherein the prince findeth obedience in the people, and the people in like manner love in the prince. For of the love of the Lord, springeth obedience in the subject: and of the obedience of the subjects, springeth love in the Lord. The Emperor in Rome, is as the spider in the midst of her cobweb: the which being touched with the needle's point by one of the threads of the same (be it never so little) immediately the spider feeleth it. I mean, that all the works which the Emperor doth in Rome, are immediately published through out all the country. For in fine, since princes are the mirror of all, they cannot well cloak their vices. I see (fathers conscript) that I have been judged here of worldly malice, because I accompanied the captives in procession, and also because I suffered myself to be touched with them, to the end they might enjoy the privilege of their liberty: and in this case I render most humble thanks to the immortal gods, because they made me a merciful Emperor, to set those at liberty that were in prison: and that they made me not a cruel tyrant, to set those in prison which were at liberty. For the proverb saith, that with one bean, a man may take two pigeons: even so chanced the like herein yesterday. For the benefit was done for those miserable captives: but the example of humanity was showed to all strange nations. And know ye not, that when the prince unloseth the irons from the feet of the captives, he bindeth the hearts, lands, and goods of his subjects? concluding therefore I say, that to princes it were more safety, and to the common wealth more profit, to be served in their palaces by free hearts with love: then by subjects which are kept under by fear.   

¶ Of a letter the emperor Marcus Aurelius sent to his friend Pulio, declaring the opinion of certain philosophers concerning the felicity of man. Cap. xl.  
MArcus Aurelius Emperor of Rome, tribune of the people, high bishop, second consul and monarch of all the Roman empire, wisheth to the Pulio his old friend, health to thy person, and prosperity against thy evil fortune. The letter that thou wrotest unto me from Capua, I received here at Bethinia, and if thou didst write it with a good heart, I did read it with willing eyes: whereof thou oughtest somewhat to content thee. For it is an ancient saying of Homer, that that which is well viewed with the eyes, is tenderly beloved of the heart. I protest unto thee by the faith of the immortal gods, that I do not write unto thee as a Roman emperor, that is to say, from the lord to the servant, for in this sort I should write unto thee brief, and touching the purpose: which thing ought not to be done to the peculiar friend. For the letters of grave men should never begin, & the letters of us friends should never end. I write unto thee my friend Pulio, as to a private friend, to an old companion of mine, and as to him, which is a faithful secretary of my desires, and in whose company I was never displeased, in whose mouth I never found lie, and in whose promise there was never breach made. And the thing being thus, I should commit treason in the law of friendship, if I kept secret from thee any of my inward conceits. For all the griefs, which lie buried in the woeful heart, ought not to be communicate but with a faithful friend. Dost thou think Pulio, that the Roman emperor hath little travail to write unto thee as Emperor, to speak as Emperor, to walk as Emperor, and to eat as emperor, and finally to be as emperor in deed? certes I do not marvel hereat. For truly the life of the virtuous emperor, is but a dial which ordereth or disordereth the common wealth: and that whereof I marvel, is of the folly of Rome, & vanity of the common wealth. For as much as all say that the prince (if he will seem grave, & be well esteemed of the people) ought to go softly, to speak little, & to write briefly: so that for writing of letters they will he be brief, & for conquering of strange realms they do not rebuke him although he be long. Wise men should desire that their princes be of a gentle condition, to the end they fall not to tyranny. That they have their mind uncorrupted, to minister to all equal justice, that their thought be good, not to desire strange realms, that they have their hearts void from wrath, that they be sound within to pardon injuries, that they love their subjects to be served of them, that they know the good to honour them, & that they know the evil to punish them: & as for the surplus, we little regard whether the king go fast, whether he eat much, or write brief. For the danger is not in that which is in the lack of his person: but is in the negligence that he useth in the common wealth. I have received my friend Pulio great comfort of thy letter, but much more I should have received of thy presence: for the letters of ancient friends, are but as a remembrance of time past. It is a great pleasure to the mariner, to talk of the perils past being in the haven: & to the captain, to glory of the battle after the victory. I mean above all pleasure this is the greatest to men, being now faithful friends, to talk of the travail and dangers which they passed, when they were young men. Believe me in one thing, and do not doubt thereof. There is no man that knoweth to speak, that knoweth to possess, nor that can judge or take any pleasure, neither that knoweth well how to keep the goods which the gods have given him, unless it be he that hath bought it dearly with great travail. For with all our hearts we love that thing, which by our own proper travail we have gotten. I ask thee one thing: who is he that oweth most to the gods, or that is most esteemed amongst men? of trajan the just, which was brought up in the wars of Dace, Germany and Spain? or of Nero the cruel, which was nourished in all the deliciousness of Rome. Truly the one was none other than a Rose among briars, and the other was but a nettle among flowers. I speak this, because the good trajan hath governed his life in such sort, that always they will smell the rose by the pleasant savour: but the cruel Nero hath left the sting with the nettle of his infamy. I will not speak all, because many are & were made good, but for the most part the princes which were brought up deliciously, gave every man occasion that all should be offended, for the evil governance of their lives in their realms: and because they never experimented any kind of travail in themselves, they do little esteem the pains of another. I will not that thou think my friend Pulio, that I have forgotten the time that is past, though the gods brought me to the empire present. For though we togethers were tossed with the torments of youth: yet now we may repose ourselves in the caulmes of our age. I do remember that thou and I did study in Rhodes in letters, and after we had so when weapons in Capua, it hath pleased the Gods that the seeds of my fortune should ripe here in Rome, and to thee and to others better than I, fortune would not give one only ear. I do not give the licence that thy thought be suspicious of me, sith thou of my heart art made a faithful friend: for if unconstant fortune doth trust me, to gather with travail the grape, know thou that here in my palace thou shalt not want of the wine. The gods will not suffer, that now in this moment thou shouldest find my heart shut from thee, whose gates I found always (for the space of twenty years) open unto me. Scythe that my fortunes brought me to the Empire, I have always had two things before mine eyes: that is to weet, not to revenge myself of mine enemies, neither to be unthankful to my friends. For I pray to the gods daily, rather than hereafter through unthankfulness my renown should be defamed: that even now with forgetfulness my body should be buried. Let a man offer to the Gods what sacrifices he will, let him do as much service to men as he can: yet if he be unthankful to his friend, he ought in all and for all to be utterly condemned. Because thou shouldest see my friend Pulio, how greatly the ancient friend ought to be esteemed, I will declare thee an example of a Philosopher, the which to hear thou wilt somewhat rejoice. The ancient histories of the Grecians declare, that among the seven sages of Grece, there was one named Periander, who was prince and governor a great while: and he had in him such liveliness of spirit on the one side, and such covetousness of worldly goods on the other side: that the historiographers are in doubt whether was the greater, the philosophy that he taught reading in the schools: or the tyranny that he used in robbing in the common wealth. For truly the science which is not grounded of trougthe, bringeth great damages to the person. In the second year of my empire I was in the city of Corinthe, where I saw the grave which contained the bones of Periander: where about was engraven in Greek verses and old letter this epitaph.  

WIthin the compass, of this narrow grave  
Wretched Periander, enclosed lies  
Whose cruel facts, could Grece alone not have  
So small a soil, his hunger could suffice.   

¶ Here lodgeth eke, lo Periander dead  
His filthy flesh, the hungry worms do eat  
And living he, with Orphelines goods was fed  
His greedy guts, did crave such dainty meat.   

¶ The tyrant Periander, stayeth here  
Whose life was built, to hinder all the rest  
And eke whose death, such prefite large did bear  
As brought relief, to him that had the jest.   

¶ Here wicked Periander, resteth now:  
His life did cause, great peopled realms decay  
His death that forced, his living spirit to bow  
assured them life, that stood in brittle stay.   

¶ The cursed Periander, here doth lie  
Whose life did shed, the poor and simple blood  
And eke that clomb, to riches rule so high  
By others sweat, that sought for wasting good.   

¶ Of Corinth lo, here Periander rest  
To seem for just, that equal laws did frame  
Yet flytting from the square, that they possessed  
By virtues doom, deserved a tyrants name.   

¶ The caitiff Periander, sleepeth here  
That finished hath, his four score years with shame  
And though his life, that thousands bought so dear  
Be faded thus, yet bloometh still his blame.   
THere were more letters on the grave, but because it was alone in the field, the great waters had worn it, so that scarcely the letters could be red: and truly it was very old, & in his time it seemed to be a sumptuous thing, but the negligence of reparation lost it quite: and it is not to be marveled at, for in the end time is of such power, that it cause the renowned men to be forgotten, and all the sumptuous buildings to decay, and fall to the earth. If thou wilt know my friend Pulio, in what time the tyrant this philosopher was, I will thou know, that when Catania the renowned city was builded, in Cicilia near the mount Ethna, and when Perdica was the fourth king of Macedonia, and that Cardicea was the third king of the Medes, and when Candare was fift king of Libeans, and that Assaradoche was ninth king of the Assyrians, and when Merodache was twelft king of Chaldeans, and that Numa Pompilius reigned second king of the Romans, & in the time of those so good kings, Periander reigned amongs the Assyrians. And it is meet thou know an other thing also which is this. That this Periander was a tyrant not only in deed, but also in renown: so that they spoke of no other thing thorough Greece, but it tended hereunto. Though he had evil works, he had good words, & procured that the affairs of the common wealth should be well redressed. For generally there is no man so good, but a man may find somewhat in him to be reproved: neither any man so evil, but he hath some thing in him to be commended. I do yet remember (of my age, being neither to young nor to old) that I saw the emperor trajan my lord, sup once in Agrippine: & it so chanced that words were moved to speak of good & evil princes in times past, as well of the Greeks as of the Romans, that all those which were present there, commended greatly the emperor Octavian, & they all blamed the cruel Nero. For it is an ancient custom, to flatter the princes that are present: & to murmur at princes that are past. When the good emperor trajan was at dinner, & when he prayed in the temple, it was marvel if any man saw him speak any word: & that day, since he saw that they excessively praised the emperor Octavian, & that the others charged the emperor Nero with more than needed, the good trajan spoke unto them these words. I am glad you commend the emperor Octavian, but I am angry you should in my presence speak evil of the emperor Nero, & of none other: for it is a great infamy to a prince being alive, to hear in his presence any prince evil reported after his death. Truly the emperor Octavian was very good, but ye will not deny me but he might have been better: and the emperor Nero was very evil, but yet you will grant me he might have been worse. I speak this, because Nero in his first five years was the best of all, and the other nine following he was the worst of all: so that there is both cause to dispraise him, and also cause to commend him. When a virtuous man will speak of princes that are dead, before princes which are alive, he is bound to praise only one of their virtues which they had, & hath no licence to revile the vices whereof they were noted. For the good deserveth reward, because he endeavoureth himself to follow virtue: & the evil likewise deserveth pardon, because through frailty he hath consented to vice. All these words the emperor trajan spoke I being present, and they were spoken with such fierceness, that all those which were there present both changed their colour, and also refrained their tongues. For truly the shameless man feeleth not so much a great stripe of correction, as the gentle heart doth a sharp word of admonition. I was willing to show thee these things, my friend Pulio, because that since trajan spoke for Nero, and that he found in him some praise, I do think no less of the tyrant Periander, whom though for his evil works he did we do condemn: yet for his good words that he spoke, for the good laws which he made, we do praise. For in the man that is evil, there is nothing more easier than to give good counsel, and there is nothing more harder than to work well. Periander made diverse laws for the common wealth of the Corinthians, whereof here following, I will declare some. We ordain and command that if any by mutliplying of words kill an other (so that it were not by treason) that he be not therefore condemned to die, but that they make him slave perpetual to the brother of him that is slain, or to the next of his kin or friends: for a short death is & less pain, than a long servitude. We ordain and command, that if any these be taken he shall not die, but with a hot iron shallbe marked on the forehead to be known for a thief: for to shammefaste men long infaime is more pain, than a short life. We ordain and command, that the man or woman which to the prejudice of an other shall tell any lie, shall for the space of a month carry a stone in their mouth: for it is not meet that he which is wont to lie, should always be authorized to speak.  
We ordain and command that every man or woman, that is a quareler and seditious person in the common wealth, be with great reproach banished from the people: for it is unpossible that he should be in favour with the Gods, which is an enemy to his neighbours. We ordain and command that if there be any in the common wealth, that have received of an other a benefit, and that afterwards it is proved he was unthankful, that in such case they put him to death: for the man that of benefits received is unthankful, ought not to live in the world among men. Behold therefore my friend Pulio, the antiquity which I declared unto thee, and how merciful the Corinthians were to murderers, thieves, and Pirates: And contrary how severe they were to unthankful people, whom they commanded forthwith to be put to death.  
And truly in mine opinion the Corinthians had reason, for there is nothing troubleth a wise man more, then to see him unthankful to him whom he hath showed pleasure unto. I was willing to tell thee this history of Periander, for no other cause, but to the end thou shouldest see and know, that forasmuch as I do greatly blame the vice of unthankfulness, I will labour not to be noted of the same. For he that reproveth vice, is not noted to be virtuous: but he which utterly flieth it. Count upon this my word that I tell thee which thou shalt not think to be feigned, that though I be the Roman Emperor, I willbe thy faithful friend, & will not fail to be thankful towards thee. For I esteem it no less glory to know how to keep a friend by wisdom: then to come to the estate of an emperor by philosophy. By the letter thou sentest, thou requiredst me of one thing to answer thee, for the which I am at my wits end. For I had rather open my treasures to thy necessities, then to open the books to answer to thy demands, although it be to my cost. I confess thy request to be reasonable, and thou deservest worthy praise: for in the end it is more worth to know, how to procure a secret of antiquities past, then to heap up treasures for the necessities in time to come. As the philosopher maketh philosophy his treasure of knowledge to live in peace, & to hope & to look for death with honour: so the covetous (being such a one as he is) maketh his treasure of worldly goods, for to keep & preserve life in this world in perpetual wars, and to end his life and take his death with infamy. Herein I swear unto thee, that one day employed in philosophy is more worth, than ten thousand which are spent in heaping riches. For the life of a peaceable man is none other, than a sweet peregrination: and the life of seditious persons is none other, but a long death. Thou requirest me my friend Pulio, that I writ unto thee wherein the ancients in times past had their felicity: know thou that their desires were so diverse, that some dispraised life, others desired it: some prolonged it, others did shorten it: some did not desire pleasures but travails, others in travails did not seek but pleasures: the which variety did not proceed but of diverse ends, for the tastes were diverse, and sundry men desired to taste diverse meats. By the immortal Gods I swear unto thee, that this thy request maketh me muse of thy life, to see that my philosophy answereth thee not sufficiently therein. For if thou ask to prove me, thou thinkest me presumptuous: if thou demand in mirth, thou countest me to be to light: if thou demandest it not in good earnest, thou takest me for simple: if thou demandest me for to show it thee, be thou assured I am ready to learn it: if thou demandest it for to know it, I confess I can not teach it thee: if thou demandest it because thou mayest be asked it, be thou assured that none will be satisfied with my answer: and if perchance thou dost ask it, because thou sleapinge haste dreamt it, seeing that now thou art awake, thou oughtest not to believe a dream. For all that the fantasy in the night doth imagine, the tongue doth publish it in the morning. O my friend Pulio I have reason to complain of thee, for so much as thou dost not regard the authority of my person, nor the credit of thy philosophy, wherefore I fear least they will judge thee to curious in demanding, and me to simple in answering: all this notwithstanding, I determine to answer thee, not as I ought, but as I can, not according to the great thou demandest, but according to the little I know. And partly I do it to accomplish thy request, and also to fulfil my desire. And now I think that all which shall read this letter, will be cruel judges of my ignorance.  

¶ Of the Philosopher Epicurus.  
IN the olympiad, the hundredth and three, Serges being king of Perses, and the cruel tyrant Lysander captain of the Peloponenses, a famous battle was fought between the Athenians and Lysander, upon the great river of Aegcon whereof Lysander had the victory: and truly unless the histories deceive us, the Athenians took this conflict grievously, because the battle was lost more through negligence of their captains, then through the great number of their enemies. For truly many win victories more through the cowardliness that some have, than for the hardiness that others have. The philosopher Epicurus at that time flourished, who was of a lively wit, but of a mean stature, and had memory fresh, being meanly learned in philosophy, but he was of much eloquence, and for to encourage and counsel the Athenians he was sent to the wars. For when the ancients took upon them any wars, they chose first sages to give counsel, than captains to lead the soldiers. And amongst the prisoners, the philosopher Epicurus was taken to whom the tyrant Lysander gave good entertainment, and honoured him above all other: and after he was taken he never went from him, but red philosophy unto him, and declared unto him histories of times passed, and of the strength and virtues of many Greeks and Trojans. The tyrant Lysander rejoiced greatly at these things. For truly tyrants take great pleasure to hear the prowess & virtues of ancients passed, & to follow the wickedness & vices of them that are present. Lysander therefore taking the triumph, & having a navy by sea, & a great army by land, upon the river of Aegeon, he and his captains forgot the danger of the wars, & gave the bridal to the slothful flesh, so that to the great prejudice of the common wealth they led a dissolute and idle life. For the manner of tyrannous princes is, to leave of their own travail, & to enjoy that of other men's. The philosopher Epicurus was always brought up in the excellent university of Athens, where as the philosophers lived in so great poverty, that naked they slept on the ground, their drink was cold water, none amongst them had any house proper, they despised riches as pestilence, & laboured to make peace where discord was, they were only defenders of the common wealth, they never spoke any idle word, & it was a sacrilege amongst them to hear a lie: & finally it was a law inviolable amongst them, that the philosopher that should be idle should be banished, & he that was vicious should be put to death. The wicked Epicurus forgetting the doctrine of his masters, & not esteeming gravity (whereunto the sages are bound) gave himself wholly both in words & deeds unto a voluptuous & beastly kind of life, wherein he put his whole felicity. For he said there was no other felicity for slothful men, then to sleep in soft beds: for delicate persons, to feel neither heat nor cold: for fleshly men, to have at their pleasure amorous dames: for drunkards, not to want any pleasant wines: & gluttons, to have their fills of all delicate meats: for herein he affirmed to consist all worldly felicity. I do not marvel at the multitude of his scholars which he had, hath, & shall have in the world. For at this day there are few in Rome, that suffer not themselves to be mastered with vices: & the multitude of those which live at their own wills, and sensuality, are infinite. And to fell the truth, my friend Pulio, I do not marvel that there hath been virtuous, neither I do muse that there hath been vicious: for the virtuous hopeth to rest himself with the gods in an other world, by his well doing: and if the vicious be vicious, I do not marvel though he will go and engage himself to the vices of this world, since he doth not hope neither to have pleasure in this, nor yet to enjoy rest with the gods in the other. For truly the unsteadfast belief of an other life (after this) wherein the wicked shallbe punished, & the good rewarded: causeth that now a days the vicious and vices reigneth so as they do.   

¶ Of the Philosopher Eschilus'.  
ARtabanus being the sixth king of Persians, and Quintus Cincinatus the husbandman being only dictator of the Romans, in the province of Tharse, there was a philosopher named Aeschylus, who was evil favoured of countenance, deformed of body, fierce in his looks, and of a very gross understanding, but he was fortunate of credit: for he had no less credit amongst the Tharses, than Homer had among the Greeks. They say that though this philosopher was of a rude knowledge, yet otherwise he had a very good natural wit, and was very diligent in hard things, and very patient with those that did him wrong, he was exceeding courageous in adversities, and moderate in prosperities. And the thing that I most delighted in him was, that he was courteous and gentle in his conversation, and both pithy and eloquent in his communication. For that man only is happy, where all men praise his life, and no man reproveth his tongue. The ancient Greeks declare in their histories, that this philosopher Aeschylus was the first that invented Tragedies, and that got money to represent them: and sith the invention was new and pleasant, many did not only follow him, but they gave him much of their goods. And marvel not thereat my friend Pulio, for the lightness of the common people is such, that to see vain things all will run: and to hear the excellency of virtues, there is not one that will go. After this philosopher Aeschylus had written many books specially of tragedies, and that he had afterward travailed through many countries and realms, at the last he ended the residue of his life, near the Isles which are adjoining to the lake of Meatis. For as the divine Plato saith, when the ancient philosophers were young they studied, when they came to be men they travailed, and then when they were old they retired home. In mine opinion this philosopher was wise to do as he did, and no less shall men now a days be that will imitate him. For the fathers of wisdom, are science and experience: and in this consisteth true knowledge, when the man at the last returneth home from the troubles of the world. Tell me my friend Pulio I pray thee, what doth it profit him that hath learned much, that hath heard much, that hath known much, that hath seen much, that hath been far, that hath bought much, that hath suffered much, that hath proved much, that had much, if after great travail he doth not retire to repose himself a little: truly he can not be counted wise but a fool, that willingly offereth himself to travail, and hath not the wit to procure himself rest. For in mine opinion, the life without rest, is a long death. By chance as this ancient philosopher was sleeping by the lake Meotis, a hunter had a hare with him in a cage of wood to take other hares by: whereon the eagle seized, which took the cage with the hare on hig, and seeing that he could not eat it he cast it down again, which fell on the head of this philosopher and killed him. This philosopher Aeschylus was demanded in his life time, wherein the felicity of this life consisted? whereunto he answered: that in his opinion it consisted in steaping, and his reason was this: that when we sleep, the enticements of the flesh do not provoke us, nor the enemy persecute us, neither the friends do importune us, nor the cold winter oppress us, nor the heat of the long Summer doth annoy us, ne yet we are not angry for any thing we see, nor we take any care for any thing we hear. Finally when we sleep, we feel not the anguishs of the body, neither suffer the passion of the mind to come. To this end ye must understand that when they were troubled, he gave them drinks which caused them immediately to sleep, so that so soon as the man did drink it, so soon he was a sleep. Finally all the study wherein the Epicurians exercised themselves, was in eating & seeking meats: and the chief study of this Aeschilus', was in sleeping, & having soft beds.   

¶ Of the philosopher Pindarus.  
IN the year of the foundation of Rome .262. Darius' the second of that name, king of Persia, who was the son of Histapsie, and in the image of kings, the fourth king of Persia, junius Brutus, and Lucius Collatinus being consuls in Rome which were the first consuls that were in Rome. There was in the great city of Thebes in Egypt, a philosopher named Pindarus, who was prince of that realm. They writ of this philosopher, that in philosophy he excelled all those of his time, and also in touching, singing, and playing of music, he was more excellent than any of all his predecessors: for the Thebans affirmed, that there was never any seen of such aptness in speaking, & so excellent delivering of his fingers in playing, as Pindarus was: and more over he was a great moral philosopher, but not so excellent in natural philosophy. For he was a quiet and virtuous man, and could better work than teach: which thing is contrary now a days in our sages of Rome. For they know little, and speak much: and worst of all in their words they are circumspect, and in their deeds very negligent. The divine Plato in his book that he made of laws, mentioneth this philosopher, & junius Rusticus in his Thebaide showed one thing of him, and that is, that an Ambassador of Lides being in Thebes, seeing Pindarus to be of a virtuous life, & very disagreeable in his words, he spoke unto him such words. O Pindarus, if thy words were so limed before men, as thy works are pure before the gods, I swear unto thee by those gods themselves that are immortal, that thou shouldest be as much esteemed in life, as Promotheus was: & shouldest leave as much memory of thee after thy death in Egypt, as the great Homer left of his life in Grece. They demanded of this Pindarus wherein felicity consisted: he answered: in such sort ye ought to know, that the in ward soul followeth in many things (for the most part) the outward body: the which thing presupposed I say, that he that feeleth no grief in his body, may well be called happy. For truly if the flesh be not well, the heart can have no rest. Therefore according to the counsel of Pindarus, the Thebans were above all other nations and people most diligent, to cure the diseases of their bodies, Annius Severus saith that they were let blood every month, for the great abundance of blood in their bodies They used every week vomitations for the full stomachs. They continued the baths for to avoid oppilations. They carried sweet savours about them against the evil and infected airs: And finally they studied nought else in Thebes, but to preserve and keep their bodies as diliciously as they could invent.   

Of the philosopher Zeno.  
IN the olympiad .133. Cneus Servilius, & Caius Brisius then consuls in Rome▪ which were appointed against the Attikes in the month of Ianuarye immediately after they were chosen, & in the .29. year of the reign of Ptolom, aeus Philadelphus, this great Prince Ptolomaeus built in the cost of alexandria a great tower, which he named Pharo, for the love of a lover of his named Pharo Dolovina, this tower was built upon .4. engines of glass, it was large and high, made 4. square, and the stones of the tower were as bright & shining as glass, so that the tower being 20. foot of breadth, if a candle burned with in, those without might see the light thereof. I let the know my friend Pulio, that the ancient historiographers did so much esteem this building, that they compared it to one of the seven. buildings of the world. At that time when these things flourished, there was in Egypt a philosopher called Zeno, by whose counsel & industry Ptolomaeus built that so famous a tower, & governed his land. For in the old time the princes that in their life were not governed by sages: were recorded after their death in the register of fools. As this tower was strong, so had he great joy of the same because he kept his dearly beloved Pharo Dolovina therein enclosed, to the end she should be well kept, and also well contented. He had his wives in Alexandria, but for the most part he continued with Pharo Dolovina. For in the old time, the Perses, Siconians, and the Chaldeans did not marry, but to have children to inherit their goods: & the residue of their life (for the most part) to lead with their concubines in pleasure and delights. The Egyptians had in great estimation men that were great wrestlers, especially if they were wise men, and above all things they maid great defiance against strangers: and all the multitude of wrestlers was continually great, so there were notable masters among them. For truly he that daily useth one thing, shall at the last be excellent therein. The matter was thus. That one day as amongst them there were many Egyptians, there was one that would not be overthrown nor cast by any man unto the earth. This philosopher Zeno perceiving the strength & courage of this great wrestler: thought it much for his estimation if he might throw him in wrestling, and in proving he threw him dead to the earth, who of none other cold ever be cast. This victory of Zeno was so greatly to the contentation of his person, that he spoke with his tongue, and wrote with his pen, that there was none other felicity, then to know how to have the strength of the arms to cast down others at his feet. The reason of this philosopher was, that he said it was a greater kind of victory to overthrow one to the earth: then to overcome many in the wars. For in the wars one only wrongfully taketh the victory, since there be many that do win it: but in wrestling, as the victory is to one alone, so let the only victory and glory remain to him, and therefore in this thing felicity consisteth: for what can be more, than the contentation of the heart. Truly we call him in this world happy, that hath his heart content, and his body in health.   

¶ Of the Philosopher Anacharsis.  
WHen the king Heritaces reigned among the Medes, and that Tarquin Priscus reigned in Rome, there was in the coasts of Scythia a philosopher called Anacharsis, who was borne in the city of Epimenides. Cecero greatly commended the doctrine of this philosopher and that he can not tell which of these two things were greater in him, that is to weet the profoundness of knowledge that the gods had given him, or the cruel malice wherewith he persecuted his enemies. For truly as Pythagoras saith. Those which of men are most evil willed, of the gods are best beloved. This philosopher Anacharsis then being as he was of Scythia (which nation amongst the Romans was esteemed Barbarous) it chanced, that a malicious Roman sought to displease the Philosopher in words, and truly he was moved thereunto, more through malice then through simplicity. For the outward malicious words are a manifest token of the inward envious heart. This Roman therefore said to the philosopher it is unpossible Anacharsis that thou shouldest be a Sithian borne: for a man of such eloquence cannot be of such a barbarous nation, to whom Anacharsis answered. Thou hast said well, and herein I assent to thy words, howbeit I do not allow thy intention: for as by reason thou mayst dispraise me to be of a barbarous country, and commend me for my good life. so I justly may accuse the of a wicked life and praise the of a good country. And herein be thou judge of both, which of us two shall have the most praise in the world to come, either thou that art borne a Roman, and leadest a barbarous life: or I that am borne a Sithian and lead the life of a Roman. For in the end, in the Garden of this life I had rather be a green apple tree and bear fruit: then to be a dry Libane drawn on the ground, After that Anacharsis had been in Rome long time, and in Greece he determined for the love of his country (now being aged) to return home to Scythia, whereof a brother of his named Cadmus was king, who had the name of a king, but in deed he was a tyrant. Since this good philosopher saw his brother exercise the works of a tyrant, & seeing also the people so dissolute, he determined to give his brother the best counsel he could, to ordain laws to the people, & in good order to govern them: which thing being seen of the Barbarous, by the consent of them all, as a man who invented new devices to live in the world, before them all openly was put to death. For I will thou know my friend Pulio, that there is no greater token, that the common wealth is full of vice: then when they kill or banish those which are virtuous therein. So therefore as they led this philosopher to death, he said he was unwilling to take his death, and loath to lose his life. Wherefore one said unto him these words. Tell me Anacha●sis, sith thou art a man so virtuous, so sage, and so old, me thinketh it should not grieve the to leave this miserable life. For the virtuous man should desire the company of the virtuous men, the which this world wanteth: the sage aught to desire to live with other sages, whereof the world is destitute: and the old man ought little to esteem the loss of his life, since by true experience he knoweth in what travails he hath passed his days. For truly it is a kind of folly for a man which hath travailed and finished a dangerous and long journey, to lament to see himself now in the end thereof. Anacharsis answered him. Thou speakest very good words my friend, & I would that thy life were as thy counsel is: but it grieveth me that in this conflict I have neither understanding, nor yet sense to taste, nor that I have time enough to thank the. For I let the know, that theridamas is no tongue can express the grief which a man feeleth, when he ought forthwith to die. I die, and as thou seest they kill me only for that I am virtuous. I feel nothing that tormenteth my heart so much, as king Cadinus my brother doth, for that I can not be revenged. For in mine opinion, the chief felicity of man consisteth, in knowing and being able to revenge the injury done without reason, before a man doth end his life. It is a commendable thing that the philosopher pardon injuries (as the virtuous philosophers have accustomed to do) but it should be also just, that the injuries which we forgive, the gods should therewith be charged to see revengement. For it is a hard thing, to see a tyrant put a virtuous man to death, and never to see the tyrant to come to the like. Me thinketh my friend Pulio, that this philosopher put all his felicity in revenging an injury, during the like in this world.   

Of the Sarmates.  
THe mount Caucasus as the Cosmographers say, doth divide in the midst great Asia, the which beginneth in India, and endeth in Scythia, and according to the variety of the people which inhabit the villages: so hath this mount diverse names, and those which dwell towards the Indians, differ much from the others. For the more the country is full of mountains, so much the more the people are Barbarous. Amongst all the other cities which are adjacent unto the same, there is a kind of people called Sarmates, and that is the country of Sarmatia, which standeth upon the river of Tanays'. There grow no wines in the province, because of the great cold: & it is true, that among all the oriental nations there are no people which more desire wine than they do. For the thing which we lack, is commonly most desired.  
These people of Sarmatia are good men of war, though they are unarmed, they esteem not much delicate meats, nor sumptuous apparel: For all their felicity consisteth, in knowing how they might fill themselves with wine. In the year of the foundation of Rome .318. our ancient fathers determined to wage battle against those people, and other Barbarous nations, and appointed a Consul called Lucius Pius. And sith in that wars fortune was variable, they made a truce, and afterwards all their captains yielded themselves, & their country into the subjection of the Roman empire, only because the Consul Lucius Pius in a banquet (that he made) filled them with wine. After the wars were ended, & all the land of Sarmatia subject: the Consul Lucius Pius came to Rome, & for reward of his travail, required the accustomed triumph: the which was not only denied him, but also in recompense of his fact he was openly beheaded, & by the decree of all the Senate, about his grave was written this epitaph.  

WIthin this tomb, Lucius Pius lies,  
That whilom was, a Consul great in Rome  
And daunted eke (as shame his slander cries)  
The Sarmates stern not by Mavors his doom.   

¶ But by reproof, and shame of Roman arms,  
He vanquishte hath, not as the Romans use  
But as the bloody tyrants, that with swarms  
Of huge deceits, the fierce assaults refuse.   

¶ Not in the wars, by biting weapons struck  
But at the board, with sweet delighting food  
Not in the hazard fight, he did them yoke  
But feeding all in rest, he stole their blood.   

¶ Nor yet with mighty Mars, in open field  
He rest their lives, with sharp ypersing spears  
But with the push, of drunken Bacchus' shield.  
Home to high Rome, the triumph lo he hears.   
THE sacred Senate set this epitaph here, because all Roman captains should take example of him. For the majesty of the Romans consisteth not in vanquishing their enemies by vices, and deliciousness: but by weapons and prayers. The Romans were very sore grieved with the audacity of this Consul Lucius Pius, and not contented to have beheaded him, and to have set on his grave so defamous a title: but made proclamation forthwith throughout Rome by the sound of a trumpet, how all that which Lucius Pius had done, the sacred senate condemned for nothing, and should stand to no effete. For there was an ancient law in Rome, when they beheaded any man by justice, they should also take away the authority he had in Rome. And not contented with these things, the sacred senate wrote to the Sarmates, that they did release them of their homage, making themselves subjects of the Romans: wherefore the restored them again to their liberty. They did this thing, because the custom among the stout and valiant Romans was, not to get nor win realms in making their enemies drunk with delicate wines: but in shedding their proper blood in the plain field. I have told the this my friend Pulio, because the Consul Lucius Pius did perceive that the Sarmates put all their filicitye to ingurge themselves with wine,   

¶ Of the Philosopher Chilo  
IN the 15. Dinastia of the Lacedæmonians and Deodeus being king of Medes, Gigion being king of Lides, Argeus being king among the Macedonians, and Tullius Hostilius king of the Romans, in the olympiad▪ 27. there was in Athens a philosopher borne of Grece, whose name was Chilo, one of the .7. sages which the Greeks had in their treasure. In that time there was great wars between the Atthenians, and the Corinthians, as we may perceive by the Greek histories, which we see written. Since Troy was destroyed, there was never peace in Greece, for the war betwixt the Greeks and Trojans was never so great, as that which afterward they made among themselves. Scythe the Greeks were now wise men, they did divide the offices of the common wealth according to the ability of every person that is to know, that to the stout and hardy men they gave the government: to the sage they recommended the imbasies of strange countries. And upon this occasion the Athenians sent the philosopher Chilo to the Corinthians to treat of peace, who came unto the city of Corinthe. bechance on that day there was celebrated a great feast, wherefore he found all men playing at dice, the women solacing themselves in the gardens, the priests sh●tte with the crossbows in the temples, the senators played in the consistory at tables, the masters of fence played in the streets, & to conclude he found them all playing. The philosopher seeing these things, without speaking to any man, or lighting of on his horse returned into his country, without declaring his message: & when the Corinthians went after him & asked him why he did not declare the cause of his coming, he answered. Friends I am come from Athens to Corinthe, not without great travail, & now I return from Corinthe to Athens not little offended: & ye might have seen it, because I spoke never a word to any of you of Corinthe, for I have no commission to treat of peace with unthrifty players, but with sage governors. Those of Athens commanded me not to keep company with those that have their hands occupied with dice: but with those that have their bodies laden with harness, & with those that have their eyes dazzled with their books, For those men which have war with the dice, it is unpossible they should have peace with their neighbours. After he had spoken these words, he returned to Athens. I let the understand my friend Pulio, that the Corinthians think it to be the greatest felicity in the world, to occupy days & nights in plays: and marvel not hereat, neither laugh thou them to scorn. For it was told we by a Greek being in Antioch, that a Corinthian esteemed it more felicity to win a game, than the Roman captain did to win a triumph. As they say the Corinthians were wise and temperate men, unless it were in plays, in the which thing they were to vicious. Me think my friend Pulio that I answer the more ampely than thou requirest, or that my health suffereth, the which is little: so that both thou shalt be troubled to read it, and I here shall have pain to writ it. I will make the a brief some of all the others which now come unto my remembrance, the which in diverse things have put their joy and chief felycities.   

Of Crates the philosopher.  
CRates the philosopher put his felicity, to have good fortune in prosperous navigations, saying: that he which saileth by sea, can never have perfect joy at his heart, so long as he considereth that between death & life there is but on board. Wherefore the heart never feeleth so great joy, as when in the haven he remembreth the perils which he hath escaped of the sea.   

Of Estilpho the philosopher.  
EStilpho the philosopher put all his felicity to be of great power, saying that the man which can do little, is worth little, and he that hath little, the gods do him wrong to let him live so long. For he only is happy which hath power to oppress his enemies, and hath wherewith all to secure himself, and reward his friends.   

Of Simonides the philosopher.  
SImonides the philosopher put all his felicity, to be well beloved of the people, saying that churlish men, and evil conditioned, should be sent to the mountains amongst brute beasts. For there is no greater felicity in this life, then to be beloved of all, in the common wealth.   

Of Archita the philosopher.  
ARchita the Philosopher had all his felicity in conquering a battle, saying that naturally man is so much friend to himself, and desireth so much to come to the chief of his enterprise: that though for little trifles he played, yet he would not be overcome. For the heart willingly suffereth all the travails of the life, in hope afterwards to win the victory.   

Of Gorgias the philosopher.  
GOrgias the philosopher put all his felicity, to hear a thing which pleased him, saying that the body feeleth not so much a great wound as the heart doth an evil word. For truly there is no music that soundeth so sweet to the ears, as the pleasant words are savoury to the heart.   

Of Chrysippus the philosopher.  
CRisippus the Philosopher had all his felicity in this world, in making great buildings, saying that those which of themselves left no memory, both in their life, and after their death deserved infamy. For great and sumptuous buildings, are perpetual monuments of noble courages.   

Of Antisthenes the philosopher.  
Antisthenes' the philosopher put all his felicye in renown after his death. For saith he there is no loss, but of life that flitteth without fame.  
For the wiseman need not fear to die. So he leave a memory of his virtuous life behind him.   

Of Sophocles the philosopher.  
SOphocles had all his joy in having children, which should possess the inheritance of their father: saying that the graff of him that hath no children, surmounteth above all other sorrows. For the greatest felicity in this life is, to have honour and riches, and afterwards to leave children which shall inherit them.   

Of Euripides the philosopher.  
EVripides the Philosopher had all his joy, in keeping a fair woman, saying his tongue with words could not express the grief which the heart endureth, that is accumbred with a foul woman: therefore of truth he which happeneth of a goodly and virtuous woman, aught of right in his life to desire no more pleasure.   

Of Palemon the philosopher.  
PAlemon put the felicity of men in eloquence, saying and swearing that the man that cannot reason of all things, is not so like a reasonable man, as he is a brute beast: For according to the opinions of many, there is no greater fely city in this wretched world, then to be a man of a pleasant tongue, and of an honest life.   

Of Themistocles the philosopher.  
THemistocles put all his felicity, in descending from a noble lineage, saying that the man which is come of a mean stock, is not bound to make himself of a renowned fame: For truly the virtues and prowesses of them that are past, are not but an example to move them to take great enterprises which are present,   

Of Aristides the philosopher.  
ARistides the philosopher put all his felicity, in keeping temporal goods, saying that the man which hath not wherewith to eat, nor to sustain his life, it were better counsel for him, of his free will to go into the grave, then to do any other thing: For he only shallbe called happy in this world, who hath no need to enter into another man's house.   

Of Heraclitus the philosopher.  
HEraclitus put all his felicity, in heaping up treasure, saying that the prodigal man, the more he getteth the more he spendeth, but he hath the respect of a wise man, who can keep a secret treasure for the necessities to come. Thou hast now sufficiently understood my friend Pulio how that vii months since I have been taken with the fever quartain, and I swear unto the by the immortal gods, that at this present instant writing unto thee, my hand shaketh, which is an evident token that the cold doth take me, wherefore I am constrained to conclude this matter which thou demandest me, although not according to my desire. For amongst true friends though the works do cease wherewith they serve: yet therefore the inward parts ought not to quail, wherewith they love. If thou dost ask me my friend Pulio, what I think of all that is above spoken, and to which of those I do stick, I answer the. That in this world I do not grant any to be happy, and if there be any, the gods have them with them: because on the one side, choosing the plain and dry way without clay, and on the other side all stony and miry, we may rather call this life the precipitation of the evil, than the safeguard of the good. I will speak but one word only, but mark well what thereby I mean, which is, that amongst the mishaps of fortune we dare say, that there is no felicity in the world. And he only is happy, from whom wisdom hath plucked envious adversity: and that afterwards is brought by wisdom, to the highest felicity. And though I would I cannot endure any longer, but that the immortal gods have the in their custoditye, and that they preserve us from evil fortune. Sith thou art retired now unto Bethinie, I know well thou wouldst I should write the some news from Rome, and at this present there are none, but that the Carpentines and Lusitaines are in great strife and dissension in Spain. I received letters how that the barbarous were quiet, though the host that was in Illiria were in good case: yet notwithstanding the army is somewhat fearful and timorous. For in all the coast and borders, there hath been a great plague. Pardon me my friend Pulio, for that I am so sickly, that yet I am not come to myself. For the fever quartain is so cruel a disease, that he which hath it, contenteth himself with nothing, neither taketh pleasure in any thing. I send the ii of the best horses that can be found in all Spain, & also I send the two. cups of gold of the richest that can be found in Alexandria. And by the law of a good man I swear unto thee, that I desire to send the two. or iii hours of those which trouble me in my fever quartain. My wife Faustine saluteth thee, and of her part and mine also to Cassia thy old mother, and noble widow, we have us commended. Marcus the Roman Emperor with his own hand writeth this, and again commendeth him unto his dear friend Pulio.    

¶ That princes and great Lords ought not to esteem themselves, for being fair, and well proportioned. Cap. xli ..  
IN the time that joshua triumphed amongst the hebrews, and that Dardanus passed from great Grece to Samotratia, and when the sons of Agenor were seeking their sister Europe, and in the time that Siculus reigned in Scicil, in great Asia, in the Realm of Egypt, was builded a great city called Thebes, the which king Busiris built, of whom Diodorus Sicculus, at large mentioneth. Plynie in the .36. chapter of his natural history, and Homer in the second of his Iliad, and Statius in all the book of his Thebiade, do declare great meruelles of this city of Thebes, which thing ought greatly to be esteemed: for a man ought not to think that feigned which so excellent auctors have written. For a truth they say that Thebes was in circuit .40. miles, and that the walls were .30. stades high, and in breadthe .6. They say also that the city had a hundredth gates very sumptuous and strong, and in every gate ii hundredth horsemen watched. Through the midst of Thebes passed a great river, the which by mills and fish did greatly profit the city. When Thebes was in his prosperity, they say that there were two hundredth thousand fires, and besides all this all the kings of Egypt were buried in that place. As Strabo saith De situ orbis, when Thebes was destroyed with enemies, they found therein lxxvii. tombs of kings which had been buried there. And here is to be noted, that all those tombs were of virtuous kings. For among the Egyptians it was a law inviolable, that the king which had been wicked in his life, should not be buried after his death. Before the noble and worthy Numantia was founded in Europe, the rich Carthage in Africa, and the hardy Rome in Italy, the goodly Capua in campaign and the great Argentine in Germany, and the holy Helia in Palestine: Thebes only was the most renowned of all the world. For the Thebans amongst all nations were renowned, aswell for their riches as for their buildings and also because in their laws & customs, they had many notable & severe things & all the men were severe in their works, although they would not be known by their extreme doings. Homer saith that the Thebans had v. customs, wherein they were more extreme than any other nation.  
1. The first was, that the children drawing to v. years of age, were marked in the forehead with a hoot iron, because in what places so ever they came they should be known for Thebans by that mark.  
2. The second was, that they should accustom their children to travail always on foot. And the occasion why they did this was, because the Egyptians kept their beasts for their gods: and therefore when so ever they travailed they never rid on horseback, because they should not seem to sit upon their god.  
3. The third was, that none of the citizens of Thebes should marry with any of strange nations, but rather they caused them to marry parents with parents, because that friends marrying with friends, they thought the friendship and love should be more sure.  
4. The fourth custom was, that no Theban should in any wise make a house for himself to dwell in, but first he should make his grave wherein he should be buried. Me thinketh that in this point the Thebans were not to extreme, nor excessive, but that they did like sage and wise men: yea and by the law of verity I swear, that they were sager than we are. For if at the least we did employ our thought but two hours in the week to make our grave: it is unpossible but that we should correct every day our life.  
5. The fift custom was, that all the boys which were exceeding fair in their face, should be by them strangled in the cradle: and all the girls which were extreme foul, were by them killed & sacrificed to the gods. Saying that the gods forgot themselves, when they made the men fair, and the women foul. For the man which is very fair, is but an unperfect woman: and the woman which is extreme foul, is but a savage and wild beast. The greatest God of the Thebaines was Isis, who was a red bull nourished in the river of Nile, and they had a custom, that all those which had red here immediately should be sacrificed. The contrary they did to the beasts, for sith their God was a bull of tawny colour, none durst be so bold to kill any beasts of the same colour. In such form and manner, that it was lawful to kill both men and women, and not the brute beasts. I do not say this was well done of the Thebaines to slay their children, nor yet I do say that it was well done to sacrifice men & women, which had red or taunye here, nor I think it a thing reasonable, that they should do reverence to the beasts of that colour: but I wonder why they should so much despise foul women, and fair men, sith all the world is peopled both with fair and foul. Then sith those barbarous (living as they did under a false law) did put him to death, whom the Gods had adorned with any beauty? we then which are Christians by reason ought much less to esteem the beauty of the body: knowing that most commonly thereupon ensueth the uncleanness of the soul. Under the crystal stone lieth oftentimes a dangerous worm, in the fair wall is nourished the venomous Coluber, within the middle of the white tooth is engendered great pain to the gums, in the finest cloth the motes do most hurt, and the most fruitful tree by worms is soonest perished. I mean, that under the clean bodies & fair countenances, are hid many and abominable vices. Truly not only to children which are not wise, but to all other which are light and frail, beauty is nothing else but the mother of many vices, and the hinderer of all virtues. Let princes and great Lords believe me, which think, to be fair and well disposed, that where there is great abundance of corporal goods and graces, there ought to be great bones of virtues to be able to bear them. For the most high trees by great winds are shaken. I say, that it is vanity to be vain glorious, in any thing of this world, be it never so perfect: and also I say that it is a great vanity to be proud, of the corporal beauty. For among all the acceptable gifts that nature gave to the mortals, there is nothing more superfluous in man, and less necessary, than the beauty of the body. For truly whether we be fair or foul, we are nothing the better beloved of God, neither thereby the more hated of men. O blindness of the world, O life which never liveth nor shall live, O death which never hath end, I know not why man through the accident of this beauty should or dared take upon him any vain glory or presumption: sith he knoweth that all the fairest, and most parfitest of flesh, must be sacrificed to the worms in the grave. And know also, that all the properness of the members shallbe forfeited to the hungry worms which are in the earth. Let the great, scorn the little as much as they will, the fair, mock the foul at their pleasure, the hole, disdain the sick, the well made, envy the deformed, the white, hate the black, and the Giants, despise the dwarves: yet in the end all shall have an end. Truly in mine opinion, the trees bear not the more fruit, for that they are straight only, nor for being high, neither for giving great shadow, nor for being beautiful, nor yet for being great. By this comparison I mean, that though a noble & stout man be proper of parson, and noble of lineage, shadowing of favour, comely in countenance, in renown very high, and in the common wealth puissant, that therefore he is not the better in life.  
For truly the common wealths are not altered by the simple labourers which travail in the fields: but by the vicious men, which take great ease in their lives. Unless I be deceived, the swine and other beasts are fed under the oaks with the acorns, and among the pricking briars and thorns the sweet roses do grow, the sharp beech giveth us the savoury chesnutts. I mean, that the deformed and little creatures oft times are most profitable in the common wealth. For the little and sharp countenances, are signs of valiant and stout hearts. Let us cease to speak of men which are fleshly, being eftsoons rotten and gone, and let us talk of sumptuous buildings which are of stone: which if we should go to see what they were, we may know the greatness and the height of them. Then we shall not know the manner of their beauty: and that which seemed to be perpetual, in short space we see it end, and lose the renown, in such sort that there is never memory of them after. Let us also leave the ancient buildings and come to the buildings now a days, and one shall see that there is no man that maketh a house, be it never so strong nor so fair, but (living a little while) he shall see the beauty thereof decay. For there are a great number of ancient men, which have seen both the tops of famous and strong buildings made, & also the foundation and ground thereof decayed. And that this is true it appeareth manifestly, for that if the top decay, or the walls fall, or else if the timber be week, or the joints open, or the windows wax rotten, or the gates do break, the buildings forth with do decay. What shall we say of goodly hauls, and galleries well appointed, the which within short space, by coals or candles of children, or by torches of pages, or smoke of attorneys, by cobwebs of spiders, become as dry & foul, as before they were fresh and fair. Then if that be true which I have said of these things I would now gladly know, what hope man can have of the continuance of his beauty, since we see the like destruction of corporal beauty, as of stones, wood, brick, and clay. O unprofitable Princes, O children of vanity to foolish hardy, do you not remember that all your health it subject to sickness, as in the pain of the stomach, in the heat of the liver, in the inflammation of the feet, in the distemperance of humours, the motions of the air, in the conjunctions of the Moon, in the Eclipse of the sun: I say do not you know that you are subject to the tedious summer, and untolerable winter? Of a troth I cannot tell how you can be (among so many in perfections and corruptions) so full of vain glory, by your beauty, seeing and knowing that a little fever doth not only deface and mar the beauty, but also maketh and couloureth the face all yellow, be it never so well favoured. I have marveled at one thing, that is to weet, that all men are desirous to have all things about their body clean, their gowns brushed, their coats net, the table handsome, and the bed fine, and only they suffer their souls to be foul, spotted, and filthy. I durst say, and in the faith of a christian affirm, that it is a great lack of wisdom, and a superfluity of folly, for a man to have his house clean, and to suffer his soul to be corrupted. I would know what pre-eminence they have which are fair, above others to whom nature hath denied beauty. Peradventure the beauteful man hath two souls, and the deformed creature hath but one? peradventure the most fairest are the most healthful, and the most deformed are the most sicklyest? Peradventure the most fairest are the wisest, and the most deformed the most innocentes? peradventure the fairest are most stout, and the deformed most cowards? peradventure the fair are most fortunate, and the foul most unluckyest? peradventure the fair only are excepted from vice, and the foul deprived from virtue? peradventure those which are fair, of right have perpetual life, and those which are foul, are bound to replenish the grave? I say no certainly. Then if this be true, why do the great mock the little, the fair the foul, the right the crooked, and the white the black, since they know that the vain glory which they have, and their beauty also, shall have an end to day or to morrow. A man that is fair and well proportyoned, is therefore nothing the more virtuous: & he that is deformed & evil shapen, is nothing therefore the more vicious: so the virtue dependeth not at all of the shape of the body, neither yet vice proceedeth of the deformity of the face. For daily we see the difformytie of the body, to be beautyfied with virtues of the mind: and the virtues of the mind, to be defaced with the vice of the body in his works. For truly he that in the usage of his life hath any botch or imperfectyon, is worse than he that hath four botches in his shoulders. Also I say, that though a man be great, yet it is not true that therefore he is strong: so that it is not a general rule, that the big body hath always a valiant and courageous heart, nor the man which is little of parson, should be of a vile & false heart. For we see by experience, the greatest men, the most cowards: & the least of parsonage, the most stout and hardy of heart. The holy scripture speak of king David, that he was red in his countenance, & not big of body, but of a mean stature, yet not withstanding as he and the mighty Giant Golias were in camp, David killed Golias with a sling, & with his own sword cut of his head. We ought not marvel, that a little sheaperde should slay so valiant & mighty a giant. For oft times of a little spark cometh a great light: and contrary wise by a great torch a man can scarcely see to do any thing. This king David did more, that he being little of body, and tender of years killed the Lions, & recovered the lambs out of the wolves throats, and besides this in one day in a battle with his own hands, he slew to the number of 800 men. Though we cannot find the like in our time, we may well imagine, that of the 800. which he slew, there were at least .300. of them as noble of lineage as he, as rich in goods, as fair in countenance, and as high of stature: but none of these had so much force & courage, since he escaped alive, & they remained in the field dead. Though julius Cesar was big enough of body, yet notwithstanding he was evil proportioned: For he had his head all bald, his nose very sharp, one hand more shorter than the other. And albeit he was young, he had his face ryvelled, his colour somewhat yellow, and above all he went somewhat crooked, & his girdle was half undone. For men of good wits do not employ themselves to the setting out of their bodies. julius Cesar was so unhandsome in his body, that after the battle of Pharsalique, a neighbour of Rome said unto the great Orator Tullius. Tell me Tullius, why hast thou followed the partialities of Pompeius since thou art so wise, knowest thou not that julius Cesar ought to be lord and monarch of all the world? Tullius then answered. I tell the true my friend, that I seeing julius Cesar in his youth so evil & unseemly girded, judged never to have seen that that is seen of him, and did never greatly regard him. But the old Silla knew him better. For he seeing julius Cesar so uncomely, and so slovenly appareled in his youth, oftentimes said unto the Senate: beware of this young man so evil marked. For if you do not watch well his proceedings, it is he that shall hereafter destroy the Roman people as Suetonius Tranquillus affirmeth in the book of Caeser. Albeit that julius Caeser was uncomely in his behaviour, yet in naming only his name he was so feared through the world, as if bechance any king or princes did talk of him at their table, as after supper, for fear they could not sleep that night until the next day. As in Gallia Gotica where julius Caesar gave a battle, by chance a French knight took a Cesarian knight prysonner, who being led prisonner by the frenchmen, said Chaos Cesar which is to say: Let Caesar alone. Which the Gaulloys hearing the name of Caeser, let the prisoner escape, and without any other occasion he fell beside his horse. Now then let princes and great lords see, how little it availeth the valiant man to be fair or foul, sith that julius Caesar being so deformed, only with naming his name caused all men for fear to change their countenance, Hannibal the adventurous Captain of Carthage is called monstrous, not only for his deeds he did in the world: but also for the evil proportion of his body. For of his two eyes he lacked the right, and of the two feet he had the left foot crooked, and above all he was little of body, & very fierce & cruel of countenance. The deeds and conquests which Hannibal did among the people of Rome, Titus Livius declareth at large: yet I will recite one thing which an historiographer declareth, and it is this. Frontine in the book of the stoutness of the Penians declareth, that in xvii. years that Hannibal warred with the Romans, he slew so great a number that if the men had been converted into Cows, and that the blood which was shed had been turned into wine, it had been sufficient to have filled and satisfied his hole army, being 80. thousand foot men, and 17 thousand horse men in his camp.  
I demand now, how many were at that time faierer and more beautiful of their bodies and countenance, than he was: whose beauty at this day is forgotten, where as his valiantness shall endure for ever. For there was never prince that left of him eternal memory, only for being beautiful of countenance: but for enterprysinge great things with the sword in the hand. The great Alexander was no fairer, nor better shapen than an other man. For the chronicles declare of him, that he had a little throat, a great head, a black face, his eyes somewhat troubled, the body little, and the members not well proportioned, and with all his deformity he destroyed Darius, king of the Perses and Medes, and he subdued all the tyrants: he made himself lord of all the castles, and took many kings, and disherited and slew mighty Lords of great estates, he searched all their riches, and pilled all their treasures, and above all things, all the earth trembled before him, not having the audacity to speak one word against him.   

¶ Of a letter the Emperor Marcus Aurelius wrote to his Nephew, worthy to be noted of all young gentlemen. Cap. xlii.  
SExtus Cheronensis, in his second book of the life of Marcus Aurelius declared, that this good Marcus Aurelius had a sister called Annia Milena, the which had a son named Epesipus, who was not only nephew, but also disciple to Marcus Aurelius. And after he was created Emperor, he sent his nephew into Grece to study the Greek tongue, and to banish him from the vices of Rome. This young Epesipus was of a good and clear judgement, well made of his body, and fair of countenance: and sith in his youth he esteemed his beauty more than his learning, the Emperor his uncle wrote him a letter into Grece, which said this.  
Marcus Aurelius the Roman Emperor, first tribune of the people, and Bishop, wisheth to thee Epesipus his nephew, and scholar, health and doctrine. In the third kalends of December, came thy cousin Annius Verus, at whose coming all our parentage rejoiced, and so much the more for that he brought us news of Gretia. For truly when the heart hath the absence of that he loveth, it is no one minute of an hour without suspicion. After that thy cousin Annius Verus had spoken in generally to all, bringing news from their friends and children, we talked together, and he gave me a letter of thine, which is contrary to that was written me out of Grece, because thou writest to me, that I should send thee money to continue the in study, and they wrote unto me from thence, that thou art more youthful and given to the pleasures of the world, than becometh thee. Thou art my blood, thou art my Nephew, thou wert my scholar, and thou shalt be my son if thou art good. But God will never that thou be my Nephew, nor that I call thee my son, during the time that thou shalt be young, fond, light & frail. For no good man should have parentage with the vicious. I can not deny but that I loved thee from the bottom of my stomach, and so likewise thy unthriftiness grieveth me with all my heart. For when I red the letter of thy follies, I let thee know that the tears ran down my cheeks: but I will content myself. For the sage and wise men, though (against their wills) they hear of such things passed, yet it pleaseth them to redress other things that may come hereafter.  
I know well thou canst not call it to mind, though perhaps thou haste it, that when thy unlucky mother, and my sister Annia Milena died, she was then young enough, for she was no more but xviii years of age, and thou hadst not then four hours. For thou were borne in the morning, and she died at nonetide: so that when the wicked child possessed life, the good mother tasted death. I can tell that thou hast lost such a mother, and I such a sister, that I believe there was no better in Rome. For she was sage, honest, and fair, the which things are seldom seen now a days. For so much as thy mother was my sister, and that I had brought her up and married her, I loved her tenderly. And when she died here at Rome, I red then Rhetoric at Rhodes, because my poverty was so extreme, that I had no other thing but that which by reading Rhetoric I did get. When news came unto me of the death of thy mother, and my sister Annia Milena, all comfort laid on side, sorrow oppressed my heart in such wise, that all my members trembled, the bones shivered, mine eyes without rest did lament, the heavy sighs overcame me, at every minute my heart vanished away, from the bottom of my heart I inwardly lamented, and bewailed thy virtuous mother and my dear sister. Finally sorrow executing his privilege on me, the joyful company grieved me, and only with the lovely care I quieted myself. I know not, nor can not express unto the how, and in what sort I took the death of my sister Annia Milena thy mother: for in sleeping I dreamt of her, and dreaming I saw her, when I was awake she represented herself before me, remembering then that she lived, I was sorry to remember her death. Life was so grievous unto me, that I would have rejoiced to have been put in the grave with her. For truly he feeleth assuredly the death of an other, which always is sorrowful, and lamenting his own life. Remembering therefore the great love which my sister Milena bore unto me in her life, and thinking wherein I might requite the same after her death: I imagined that I could not by any means do any thing more acceptable for her, then to bring thee up, thou which art her child, and left an orphan so young. For of all travails, to a woman this is chiefest: to leave behind her children to bring up. My sister being dead, the first thing I did was, that I came to Rome, and then sent thee to Capua to be brought up there, in the which place, hard at my nose, they gave the suck two years. For thou knowest right well, that the money which by reading Rhetoric I gate, scarcely satisfied for thy daily finding: but that in the night I read some extraordinary lecture, and with that I paid for the milk, which thou suckedst on the dug, so that thy bringing up depended upon the labour of my life. After that thou were weyned and brought from the teat, I sent the to Bietro, to a friend and kinsman of mine named Lucius Valerius, with whom thou remainedst until five years were fully accomplished, where I found both him and thee all things necessary. For he was in great poverty, and a great babbler of his tongue, in such sort that he troubled all men, and angered me much. For truly a man should as willingly give money to cause him to be silent, which is talkative: as to give to a wise man, to hear him speak. The five years accomplished, I sent thee to Toringue, a city of Campagnia, to a master which taught children there, called Emilius Torquates, of whom, to the end he should teach thee to read and write three years: I took a son of his, whom he gave me to read to him Greek four years, so that thou couldst not have any profit in thee, without the increase of my great travail, and augmenting pain to my heart. After thou were seven years old, that thou couldst read and write well: I sent thee to study in the famous city of Tarenthe, where I kept thee four years, paying to the masters a great sum of money. Because now a days through our evil fortunes, there is none that will teach without great stipend. Without lamenting I do not tell thee, that in the time of the Cincinos (which were after the death of Quintus Cincinatus, until Cyna and Catullus) the philosophers and masters of Rome did never receive one penny to teach sciences to any that would learn them. For all the philosophers and masters were by the sacred Senate paid, and none ceased to study for lack of money. For in those days they which would apply themselves to virtue and sciences, were by the common treasure maintained. As our fathers were well ordered in their things: so they did not divide offices by order only, but also by order they paid their money in such sort that they paid first with the common treasure, the priests of the temples. Secondly the masters of schools and studies. Thirdly the poor widows and orphans. Fourthly the strange knights, which of their own free wills vountarily were made citizens of Rome. Fiftly all the old soldiers, which had served. xxxvi. years continually in the wars. For those which were retired home to their own houses, were honourably found of the common wealth. The xii years paste I myself was in Tarenthe, and carried thee to Rome, where I red unto thee Rhetoric, Logic, and Philosophy, and also the Mathematical sciences, keeping thee in my house, in my company, at my table, and in my bed, and furthermore I had thee in my heart, and in my mind. The which thing thou shouldest esteem more, then if I gave thee my house and all my goods. For the true benefit is that only which is done without any respect of profit or interest. I kept thee with me thus in this sort in Laurente, in Rhodes, in Naples, and in Capua, until such time as the gods created me Emperor of Rome. And then I determined to send thee to Grece, because thou shouldest learn the Greek tongue, and also to the end thou shouldest accustom thyself to work, that which true philosophy requireth. For the true and virtuous philosophers ought to conform their works to that they say, and publish their words with their deeds. There is nothing more infamous, then to presume to be sage, and to be desirous to be counted virtuous: principally for him that speaketh much, & worketh little. For the man of a pleasant tongue, & evil life, is he which with impostumes undoth the common wealth. When I sent thee to Grece, & withdrew thee from Rome, it was not to exile thee out of my company, so that thou having tasted of my poverty, shouldest not rejoice at my prosperity: but it was that considering thy youthful disposition and lightness, I was afraid to undo thee in the palace, chief lest thou wouldst have presumed to have been to bold & familiar, because thou wert my nephew. For truly princes which take pleasure that their children be familiar with them, they give occasion that men shall not count them wise, & cause also the young men to be esteemed for light I have told thee that I did for thee in Italy. I will now let thee know what thou hast done, and dost in Grece, so that I will show thee to be notorious, that is to know, that thou taking and esteeming thyself to be well disposed in thy youth, thou haste forsaken thy study, and despised my counsels, thou art accompanied with vain and light men, and hast viciously employed the money which I had sent thee to buy books. All the which things to thee being hurtful, are to me no less dishonour and shame. For it is a general rule, when the child is foolish and ill taught, the blame and fault is laid on the masters neck, who hath taught him, and brought him up. It grieveth me not for that I have brought thee up, neither for that I have taught thee to read, and cause thee to study, neither likewise to have kept thee in my house, to have set thee at my table, nor also to have suffered thee to lie with me in bed, neither it grieveth me to have consumed so much money on thee: but with all my heart it grieveth me, that thou haste not given me occasion to do thee any good. For there is nothing that grieveth a noble prince more, than not to find parson's able of capacity, to do them any good. They tell me that thou art well made of thy body, and fair of countenance, and that thou presumest also in those things: wherefore to enjoy the pleasures of thy person, thou hast forsaken philosophy, wherewith I am not contented. For in the end the corporal beauty, early or late, perisheth in the grave: but virtue and science, maketh men to be of immortal memory. The gods never commanded it, neither the studies and universities of Italy suffered it, to have the body fine and trim, the visage fair & clear, and the heart full of philosophy: for the true philosopher, of all other things esteemeth lest the setting forth of the body. For that the demonstrations & tokens of a true & perfect philosopher is to have his eyes troubled, his eiebries burnt, & the head bald, the ball of his eyes sunk into his head, the face yellow, the body lean and feeble, the flesh dry, the feet unhosed, the garment poor, the eating little, and the watching great. Finally he ought to live as a Lacedaemonian, and speak as a Grecian. The tokens of a valiant and renowned captain, are his wounds and hurts: and the sign of a studious philosopher, is the despising of the world. For the wise man ought to think himself as much dishonoured, if they call him stout, and sturdy: as a captain when they call him a coward and negligent. I like well that the philosopher study the ancient antiquities of his forefathers, that wrote the profound things for the time to come, that he teach profitable and wholesome doctrines to those which are now alive, that he diligently inquire of the motion of the stars, that he consider what causeth the alteration of the elements. But I swear unto thee Epesipus, that never sage of Rome came to those things, nor philosopher of Grece likewise, but in searching the quietness of the soul, and despising the pleasures of the body. Touching the body I am like to beasts, but concerning the spirit I am partly like to the gods, sith that following the things of the flesh I, am made less than myself, and in following the motions of the spirit, I am made more than I am. For truly sensuality maketh us inferior to beasts, and reason maketh us superior unto men. The worldly malice and presumption naturally desireth, rather to mount then to descend: and to command, rather than to be commanded. And since it is so, why do we by vices abase ourselves to do less than beasts, being possible for us by virtues, to do more than men? Amongst all the members, which men can have, there is nothing more tender to break, nor any thing more easy to corrupt, then is the handesomenes of the body, whereof we are so proud. For in mine opinion, to esteem himself to be handsome & proper of person, is no other thing, but to esteem ourselves that dreaming we shall be rich and mighty, and afterwards awaking we find ourselves to be poor and miserable. And me thinketh this thing to be true, because I will declare, what it is to see a young man in his first age, the head little, the here yellow, the brow long, the eyes green, the cheeks white, the nose sharp, the lips coloured, the beard forked, the face lively, the neck small, the body of good proportion, the arms little, the fingers long, & to conclude, so well proportioned in his members, that men's eyes should always desire to behold him, and the hearts always seek to love him. If this young man so fair and well proportioned, remained long time in this beauty and disposition, it were good to desire it, to procure it, to keep it, to praise it, and to love it well: for in the end if we love the beauty in beasts and buildings, by greater reason we should desire it in ourselves. But what shall we say, that when we do not watch, this little flower which yesterday flourished on the tree, fair and whole, without suspicion to be lost, one little hoary frost suddenly wasteth and consumeth it, the vehement wind overthroweth it, the knife of envy cutteth it, the water of adversity undoth it, and the heat of persecutions pineth it: and finally the worm of short life gnaweth it, and the putrefaction of death decayeth and bringeth it down to the ground. O man's life that art always cursed, I count fortune cruel, and thee unhappy, since she will that thou tarriest on her, which dreaming giveth the pleasures, and waking worketh the displeasures: which giveth into the hands travail to taste, & suffereth thee not only to listen after quiet: which will thou prove adversity, and agree not that thou have prosperity but at her will: finally she giveth thee life by ounces, and death without measure. The wicked & vicious say, that it is a great pleasure to live in ease: but I protest unto them, that there was never any mortal man had so much pleasure in vices, but that he remained in great pain after that they were banished from him. For the heart, which of long time hath been rooted in vice, incontinently is subject to some great alteration. I would all would open their eyes to see how we live deceived: for all the pleasures which delight the body, make us believe that they come to abide with us continually, but they vanish away with sorrow immediately. And on the contrary part, the infirmities and sorrows that blind the soul say, that they come only to lodge as gests, and remain with us continually as householders. I marvel of thee Epesipus, why thou dost not consider what shall become of the beauty of thy body hereafter, sith thou seest presently the beauty of those departed interred in the grave. By the diversity of fruits, man doth know the diversity of trees in the Orchard, that is to weet, the Oak by the acorns, the Date tree by the dates, & the vines by the grapes: but when the root is dry, the body cut, the fruit gathered, the leaf fallen, & when the tree is laid on the fire and become ashes, I would now know if this ashes could be known of what tree it was, or how a man might know the difference of the one from the other? By this comparison I mean to say, that for so much as the life of this death, and the death of this life cometh to seek us out, we are all as trees in the orchard, whereby some are known by the roots of their predecessors, others by the leaves of their words, others by the branches of their friends, some in the flowers of their beauty, and other some by the bark of their foul skin. The one in their mercifulness, the other in their stoutness, others in their hardiness being aged, others in the hastiness of their youth, others in their barronnes by their poverty, others by their fruitfulness in riches, finally in one only thing we are all alike, that is to weet that all universally go to the grave, not one remaining. I ask now when death hath done his office, executing all earthily men in the latter days, what difference is there then between the fair and the foul, which lie both in the narrow grave? certainly there is none, and if there be any difference, it shallbe in the making of the graves, which vain men invented. And I do not repent me for calling them vain, since there is no vanity nor fondness comparable to this, for they are not contented to be vain in their lives, but will also after their deaths eternize their vanities in sumptuous and stately sepulchres. The coal of the Cedar (in my opinion) that is high and fair, is nothing more whither when it is burnt, than the coal of the Oak which is little and crooked. I mean, oftentimes the gods do permit, that the bones of a poor Philosopher are more honoured than the bones of princes. With death I will threathen thee no longer, for sith thou art given to the vices of this life, thou wouldst not as yet that with a word it should destroy thee: but I will tell thee one word more, though it grieve thee to hear it, which is, that the Gods created thee to die, men begot thee to die, women bore thee to die, and thou camest into the world for to die: & to conclude I say, some are borne to day, on condition they die to morrow, and give their places to others. When the great and fruitful trees begin to bud forth by the roots, it signifieth that time draweth on for them, to cut the dry and withered branches. I mean that to see children borne in the house is no other, but to cite the grandfathers and fathers to the grave. If a man would ask me what death is, I would say a miserable lake wherein all worldly men are taken. For those that most safely think to pass it over, remain therein most subtly deceived. I have always red of the ancients passed, and have seen of the young men present, and I suppose that the self same will be to come hereafter. That when life most sweetest seemeth to any man, then suddenly death entereth in at their doors. O immortal gods, I can not tell if I may call you cruel, I know not if I may call you merciful, because you gave us flesh, bones, honour, goods, friends, and also ye give us pleasure: finally ye give to men all that they want, save only the cup of life, which to yourselves you did reserve. Since I may not that I would, I will that I may: but if it were referred to my will, I would rather one only day of life, than all the riches of Rome. For what availeth it to toil and take pain to increase honour, and worldly goods: since life daily diminisheth. Returning therefore to my first purpose, thou must know, that thou esteemest thyself, and glorifiest in thy parsonage and beauty: I would gladly know of thee, and of others which are young and fair, if you do not remember that once ye must come to be old and rotten. For if you think you shall live but a little, than reason would you should not esteem your beauties much: for by reason it is a strange thing, that life should abate us, and folly train us. If you think to become aged, ye ought to remember, and always to think, that the steel of the knife, which doth much service, at length decayeth and is lost for lack of looking to. truly the young man, is but a new knife, the which in process of time cankerethe in the edge: for on one day he breaketh the point of understanding, another he loseth the edge of cutting, and to morrow the rust of diseases taketh him, and afterwards by adversity he is writhe, and by infirmities he is diseased, by riches he is whetted, by poverty he is dulled again: and finally, oftentimes it chanceth that the more sharp he is whetted, so much the more the life is put in hazard. It is a true thing, that the feet and hands are necessary to climb to the vanities of youth: and that afterwards stumbling a little, immediately rolling the head downwards, we descend into the misery of age. For (to our seeming) yesterday we knew one, that was young and beautiful: and with in short time after, we hear that he is dead and rotten. When I consider many men, aswell friends as enemies, which were (not long a go) flourishing in beauty and youth, and presently I see them to be old and dry, sick and foul, truly I think that as than I dreamt of them, or that they be not now as they were then. What thing is more fearful, or more incredible, then to see a man become miserable, in short space, that the fashion of his visage should change, the beauty of the face should be lost, the beard wax white, the head bald, the cheeks and forehead full of wrynckelles, the teeth (as whit as ivory) become black, the light feet by the gout to seem crepeled, and afterward waxeth heavy, the palsy weakeneth the strong arm, the fine smooth throat with wrinckelles is pleated, and the body that was straight and upright, waxeth weak and crooked. Above all that I have spoken, I say to the Epesipus (which presumest to be fair) that he which through his properness in youth was the mirror of all, becometh to be such a one, that he doubteth whether he be the self same now in his age, that he was in his youth. Do what thou wilt, praise and glorify thy beauty as much as thou thinkest good, yet in the end the beauty of men is none other: but as a veil to cover their eyes, a pair of fetters for the feet, manacles for the hands, a lime rod for the wings, a these of time, an occasion of danger, a provoker of trouble, a place of lechery, a sink of all evil. and finally it is an inventor of debates, and a scourge of the affectioned man. Since thou haste forsaken thy study, I am not bound to send the any thing, chiefly wasting thy money in childysh and youthful toys: but notwithstanding all those things, I send the by Aulus Vegenus two thousand crowns for thy apparel, and truly thou shalt be very unthankful, if thou dost not know the benefit done unto the. For a man ought to give more thanks for that which is done of courtesy: then for that which is offered of necessity. I cannot tell, what to let the understand in these parts, but that thy sister Anania Salaria is married, who sayeth she is content. I pray God it be so, for with money men may be helped to marriages: but it lieth in the gods to content the parties. If thou wilt know of Toringa thy cozen, thou shalt understand she is embarked in the fleet which went to Spain, and in deed I never thought otherwise on her, after she had hene .3. days hid in the way of Salaria. For maids that will betimes gather their grapesis: t is a token that they will go on warfare with soldiers. Of Annius Rufus thy friend and companion, I certify the that he is gone into the isle of Hellespont, and he goeth by the authority of the senate, to understand the government thereof: and albeit he be young, yet he is wise, and therefore I suppose he will render a good account of his commission. For of these two extremities, the aged that do decline, or the young that are wise: I had rather hold myself to the wisdom of the young, then to the white beards of the aged. My wife Faustine saluteth thee, and be thou assured that in thy affairs (at the least to my seeming) she is very favourable unto thee, and daily she instauntely requireth me not to be angry with thee, saying: that sage men ought not to esteem the lightness of youth, and that there is no old man that is sage, but he which in all things, was light and youthefull. I say no more to the in this case, but if thou wilt be good, I cannot denay that thou art not my nepheve, my old scholar, and servant. For if in the I see amendment, I will withdraw mine ire. For truly among the loving hearts, there is nothing that plucketh up the evil will, unless it be the good life. At the request of my wife Faustine I have written the this word, and I say no more, but that of her part and mine thou commend us to all the university. The Gods have the in their custody, to whom it may please to give the amendment of life. Marcus Aurelius the roman emperor, to the Annius Epesipus writeth with his own hand.   

How princes and great Lords in old time were lovers of wise men. Chap. xliii.  
ONe of the chiefest things that wan reputation and eternal memory to the ancient princes and Governors, was that they sought wise men to be always coversaunt about them, whose grave counsel their realms always observed, and obeyed. It profiteth a king little, to lead with him a great number of sages, to govern him and his realm: if his subjects are armed with malice not to obey him. Let princes know, which esteem not the counsel of sages, that their commandment of other shall not be regarded. For the law which by will is made, and not of right ordained, deserveth not to be obeyed. We which turn and toss the leaves of the ancient histories cannot denay, but that the romans naturally were proud. Yet we must confess, that as they have been stout in things touching wars: so they have showed themselves temperate, in the affairs of the public weal. And truly herein Rome declared her wisdom & might, for as by hardy and stout captains the enemies were destroyed in war: so by sages and wise men the common wealth was governed and maintained in peace. Oft times with myself I muse whereupon all these discords grew, between lords and subjects, princes and vassals: and my count being made, I find that they have both reason. For the subjects complain of the little love of their lord: and the lords complain of the great disobedience of their subjects. For to say the truth, disobedience is so much augmented, and the desire of commandment is become so licentious, that it seemeth to the subjects that the weight of a feather is lead: and on the contrary it seemeth to princes that for the flying of a fly, they should draw their sword. All this evil and damage cometh not, but because the princes have not with them wise men, which may counsel them: for there was never any good prince, that credited evil counsel. There are two things in princes and prelate's which govern the soul, th'one is the dignity of the office, and the other is the nature of the person. It may well be that on may be good in his person, and evil in his government: and the contrary, he may be evil of his person, and good in government. And therefore Tullius Cicero sayeth, that there never was nor shall be such a julius Cesar in his person, nor so evil a governor as he was for the common wealth. It is a great grace in a man to be good, but it is much more that he be a good prince: and for the contrary, it is a great evil for a man to be evil, but it is much worse for him to be an evil prince. For the evil man is only evil to himself, but the evil prince indomageth all others: for the more the poison is scattered through the body, in so much more danger he is of his life. I mean, the more power a man hath over the common wealth: so much the more evil and damage he doth if his life be evil. I marvel why princes and great lords should be so curious to search the best medicines to cure their bodies: & that they are so slack & slow in seeking sage persons to govern their common wealth. For without comparison, it is greater damage that the common wealth be evil governed, then if the prince and governor thereof should be sick in his person. Hitherto we have neither red nor seen that any Prince have perished for lack of physic, but for lack of counsellors we have seen and read of infinite kings and realms that have been destroyed, and utterly undone.  
The lack of a physician may cause danger in man's person: but the lack of a wise man, may set discord amongst the people. For where there is any tumult amongst the people a ripe counsel of a wise man profiteth more: then a hundredth purgations of rhubarb. Isidorus in the forth book of his etymologies affirmeth, that the romans were four hundredth years without physicians. For Esculapius the son of Apollo was the last physician in Grece. And in the temple of the same Esculapius, they set by the image of Archabuto, a man very notable in surgery. For the romans were so beneficious to virtuous parsons, that to every on that exceaded other in any kind of virtue, they rewarded him with money, they set up a statute of him for memory, or else they made him free in the common wealth. And then when the surgeon Archabuto was become ancient, and very rich, & when by occasion of great and dangerous wounds he did cut of the arms and legs of certain Romans, they thought him a cruel an unnatural man. Wherefore they drove him out of his house, and killed him with stones in the field of Mars. And let no man marvel thereat, for oftentimes men suffer less harm in enduring the pain, then to tarry for the cruel remedies the surgians apply unto it. Some men will say, that when Rome was without surgians, the romans were disconfaited and half lost. To this I will answer, that they never had a more prosperous time▪ then in the .400. years when they were without surgians. For than was Rome undone, when they received surgeons, for at the tune they drove philosophers out of rome. I do not speak this as a prejudice to any surgeon, for me thinketh that princes cannot be without some among them. For as the flesh is feeble and delicate, so daily needeth it remedies to comfort it. The sage surgeons giveth us none but good and healthful counsels. For they do not persuade us to any other thing, but that we be: sober and continent, in eating, drinking, sleapinge, travailing, and working and that in all things we should be temperate. The end why I speak these things is, to persuade princes, prelate's, and great lords, that the great diligence they have to seek surgeons, & the some of money they wast to maintain and content them, they should spend part of that to seek wise men to counsel their persons. For if men knew what it were to keep a wise man, to command in their house, they would give for on only wise man all their goods. Ye ought to have pity and compassion upon those princes, and great lords, which lose so many days in the month, and so many hours in the day, in speaking of wars, buildings, weapons, meats, beasts, of huntinges, and medicines, and oftentimes of othermen's doings, & of other vain things, not necessary for man's life. And this communication they use with those that are neither virtuous, nor wise: the which can neither wisely talk, nor yet answer directly unto that which is asked. Oftentimes it chanceth that a prince at random moveth a matter, which they never saw written before, nor with their ears they never heard the like, neither in all their life time they had knowledge thereof, and yet they will seem to give judgement of it, (or better to say) obstinately to cotend, as if all the days of their life they had studied it: which thing proceedeth of great shame, and evil bringing up. For the privy counsel may speak before their princes, but be they never so privy, with licence or without licence it is not lawful for them to contend. Helius Spartianus in the life of Alexander Severus sayeth, that the emperor Severus was demanded once by an ambassador of Graece, what thing was most painful to him in Rome? whereunto the emperor answered. There is nothing grieveth me more, than when I am merry, that my servants should raise any strife or debate: I am not displeased that matters should be debated, but this grieveth me when on will obstinately strive, that hath no ground of that he speaketh▪ For the man which giveth reason of that he speaketh, cannot be called obstinate. Theodosius the Emperor was once demanded what a prince ought to do to be good, whereunto he answered, the virtuous prince when he goeth abroad, aught to have grave and wise men in his compagnie to discourse with all, when he is at his meat to have wise men at his board disputing, and when he withdraweth himself a part to be reading with wise men: and finally at all vacant times, he ought to be found with sage men counsaling. For the knight which entereth into battle without weapons, is as hardy as the prince which will govern the common wealth, without the counsel of wise men. Lampridius in the book of the Roman gests saith, that the emperor Marcus Aurelius neither at his meat, at his going to bed, at his uprising, in his travail, openly, nor secretly, suffered at any time that fools should sing or communicate with him, but only wise & virtuous men, whom always he most entirely loved. Of truth he had reason, for there is nothing, be it in jest or in earnest, but is better liked of a wise man, then of a fool. If a prince be sad, cannot a wise man peradventure by the saying of the holy scripture counsel him better, than a fool by foolish words? If a Prince be prosperous, shall it not be better (to keep him in the same prosperity) to associate himself with a wise man, rather than to put his trust in a fool and malicious person? If a prince be destitute of money, cannot perchance a wise man find him better means to get it, than a fool which doth nothing but ask? If a prince will pass the time away, shall not he be more comforted with a wise man, that reckoneth unto him the savorye histories done in times past, then hearkening a fool speaking foolishly, & declaring things dishonestly, with the sayings of the malicious of the time present? That that I speak of surgians, the self same I speak of fools. For I do not say that they keep them for their pastime, though truly we might better say to lose their time, then to pass their time. For that may justly be called time lost, which is spent without the service of God, & profit of their neighbours. That which I most marvel at is, not so much for the great authority the fools have in the palaces of princes & great lords, as for the little succour & credit which wise men have among them. For it is a great injury, the fools should enter into the palace of princes even unto their bed side, and that one wise man may not nor dare not enter into the hall. So that to the on there is no door shut: and to the other there is no gate open. We which are at this present, of right do commend those. that were before us, for no other cause, but that in times past, though the sages were few in number, & the world was replenished with barbarous people: yet the sages of those barbarous people were greatly esteemed, and had in reverence. And this custom endured long time in Grece, that when a philosopher passed by a Greek, he rose and spoke unto him, and he might not sit: for the contrary, all those which shall live here after will reprove us which are at this present. Forasmuch as we have so great a multitude of sages, and do not live amongst barbarous, but amongst Christians: and it is a grief to see, and shame to write, how little wise men are esteemed. For at this day (through our offences) not those which have most science: but those which have most riches, in the common wealth do command. I know not whether the divine wisdom hath deprived them, or that the worldly malice hath lost the taste of them. For now a days there is no sage, that liveth all alone to be wise, but it is necessary for him to travail how to gain his living: for necessity enforceth him, to violate the rules of true philosophy. O world, world, I know not how to escape thy hands, nor how the simple man & idiot defendeth himself out of thy snares, when the sage and wise men (yea with all their wisdom) can scarcely set their foot sure on the ground. For all that wise men of this world know, is little enough to defend them from the malicious. Reading that which I read of time past, and seeing that which I see of time present: I am in doubt which was greater, the care that virtuous princes had in seeking out sages to counsel them, or the great covetousness that others have at this present, to discover mines and treasures. Speaking therefore in this matter as I think, I desire that those which have the charge of government (whether he be prince, prelate, or private parson I pass not) that they once may have about them sage men, that be wise in deed, and that they would love them above all the treasure they had heaped. For in the end, of good counsel there cometh profit: and much treasure, is a token of great danger. In the old time when virtuous Princes died, and that they left their children for successors in their Realms, & besides that forasmuch as they saw their children young, & evil instructed in the affairs of their realms, they committed them to tutors, that should teach them good works & doctrine: rather than they would give them surveyors, which should increase & augment their coffers and rents. For truly if the common wealth be defended with great treasures, it is not governed with good counsels. The princes which are young, accustomely are given to vices: for in the one part youth reigneth, & on the other part honesty wanteth. And to such truly vices are very dangerous, specially if they want sages to counsel them, to keep them from evil company. For the courageous youth will not be bridled, nor their great liberty can be chastised. Princes without doubt have more need of wise men about them, to profit them in their counsels: then any of all their other subjects. For since they are in the view of all, they have less licence to commit vice than any of all. For if they do behold all, and that they have authority to judge all, will they nill they, they are beholden and judged of all. Prince's ought to be circumspect whom they trust with the government of their realms, and to whom they commit the leading of their armies: whom they send as ambassadors into strange countries, and whom they trust to receive and keep their treasures: but much more they ought to be circumspect in examining of those whom they choose to be their counsalours. For look what he is that counseleth the Prince at home in his palace: so likewise shall his renown ●e in strange countries, and in his own common wealth. Why should they not then willingly examine, and correct their own proper palace? Let princes know, if they do not know, that of the honesty of their servants, of the providence of their counsels, of the sageness of their persons, and of the order of their house, dependeth the welfare of the common wealth. For it is impossible that the branches of that tree, whose roots are dried up, should be seen to bear green leaves.   

How the Emperor Theodosius provided wise men at the hour of his death, for the edification of his .2. sons. Archadius and Honorius. xliiii. Chap.  
IGnatius the Hystorian in the book that he made of the .2. Theodosij, of the .3. Archadij, and of the .4. Honorii declareth, that the first and great Theodosius being fifty years old, and having governed the Empire .11. years, dying on his death bed, called Archadius and Honorius, his .2. sons, and committed them to Estilconus and Ruffinus to be instructed, and ordained them likewise for governors of their estates, and signories. Before that the father died he had now created his children Caesar's, being then of the age of .17. years. Therefore the father saying them not as yet ripe, nor able to govern their Realms and signories: he committed them unto masters and tutors. It is not always a general rule, though one be of .25. years of age, that he hath more discretion to govern realms then another of .17. For daily we see, that we allow and commend the .10. years of one, and reprove the .40. years of an other. There are many princes tender of years, but ripe in counsels: and for the contrary there are other princes old in years, & young in counsels. When the good Emperor Vespasian died, they determined to put his son Titus in the government of the empire, or some other aged Senator, because they said Titus was to young. And as they were in controversy of the matter, the Senator Rogerus Patroclus said unto the Senate. For my part I require rather a Prince which is young, and sage: then I do a prince which is old and foolish. Therefore now as touching the children of Theodosius, one day Estilconus the tutor of Archadius speaking to a greek philosopher, very sage, whose name was Epimundus, said thus unto him. Thou and I long time have been acquainted together in the palace of the emperor Theodose, my lord, who is dead and we are alive: thou knowest it had been better that we .2. had died, and that he had lived. For there be many to be servants of princes, but there are few to be good princes. I feel no greater grief in this world, than to know many princes in one realm. For the man which hath seen many princes in his life: hath seen many novelties and alterations in the common wealth. Thou knowest well that when Theodosius my master died, he spoke to me these words, the which were not spoken without great sighs: and multiplienge of tears. O Estilconus I die, and am going into an other world, wherein I shall give a straight account of the Realms and signories which I had under my charge: And therefore when I think of mine offences, I am marvelously afraid. But when I remember the mercy of God, than I receive some comfort and hope. As it is but meet we should trust in the greatness of his mercy: so likewise is it reason we should fear the rigour of his justice. For truly in the christian law they are not suffered to live (as we which are Princes that live in delights of this world) and afterward without repentance to go straight to paradise. Then when I think of the great benefits which I have received of God, and of the great offences which I have committed, & when I think of the long time I have lived, and of the little which I have profited, & also that unprofitably I have spent my time: On the one part I am loath to die, for that I am afraid to come before the tribunal seat of jesus Christ: and on the other part, I would live no longer, because I do not profit. The man of an evil life, why doth he desire to live any longer? My life is now finished, & the time is short to make amends. And sith god demandeth nought else but a contrite heart, with all my heart I do repent, and appeal to his justice, of mercy, from his justice to his mercy, because it may please him to receive me into his house, and to give me perpetual glory, to the confusion of all my sins and offences. And I protest I die in the holy catholic faith, & commend my soul to god, & my body to the earth, & to you Estilconus & Ruffinus, my faithful servants, I recommend my dear beloved children. For hereby the love of the children is seen, in that the father forgetteth them not at the hour of his death. In this case of one only thing I do warn you, one only thing I require you, one only thing I desire you, & one only thing I command you, & that is, that you occupy not your minds in augmenting the Realms & signories of my children: but only that you have due respect to give them good education & virtuous servants. For it was only the wise men which I had about me, that thus long have maintained me in this great authority. It is a goodly thing for a prince to have stout captains for the wars: but without comparison it is better to keep & have wise men in his palace. For in the end, the victory of the battle consisteth in the force of many: but the government of the common weal oftentimes is put under the advise of one alone. These so doleful and pitiefull words, my lord and master Theodosius spoke unto me: now tell me Epimundus what I should do at this present, to fulfil his commandment? For at his heart he had nothing that troubled him so much, as to think whether his children would undo, or increase the common wealth. Thou Epimundus, thou art a Grecian, thou art a philosopher, thou hast understanding, thou art an old servant, thou art my faithful friend, therefore for all these things thou art bound to give me good & healthful counsel. For many times I have heard Theodosius my master say, that he is not accounted sage which hath turned the leaves of many books: but he which knoweth, and can give good & healthful counsels. Epimundus the philosopher answered to these words. Thou knowest well Lord Estilconus, that the ancients and great Philosophers, aught to be brief in words, and very perfect in their works. For otherwise to speak much, & work little, seemeth rather to be done like a tyrant: then like a greek philosopher. The Emperor Theodosius was thy Lord, and my friend. I say friend, because it is the liberty of a greek Philosopher, to acknowledge no homage nor service to any superior. For he in his heart can have no true science: that to rebuke the viicous keepeth his mouth shut. In one thing I content myself in Theodose above all other princes, which were in the Roman empire, and that is, that he knew and talked wisely of all his affairs, and also was very diligent to execute the same. For all the fault of Princes is, that they are prompt & bold to talk of virtues: and in executing them, they are very slack & fearful. For such Princes can not continue in the virtue, which they do commend: nor yet resist the vice, which they do dispraise. I grant that Theodosius was an executor of justice, merciful, stout, sober, valiant, true, loving, thankful, and virtuous: and finally in all things, and at all times he was fortunate. For fortune oftentimes bringeth that to Princes, which they will and desire: yea many times better than they look for. Presuppose it to be true (as it is most true) that the time was always prosperous to the Emperor Theodosius: yet I doubt whether this prosperity will continue in the succession of his children. For worldly prosperity is so mutable, that with one only man, in a moment, she maketh a thousand shrewd turns: and so much the more it is hard to continue steadfast in the second heir. Of slow and dull horses, come oftentimes courageous and fierce colts: and even so of virtuous fathers, come children evil brought up. For the wicked children inherit the worst of the father, which is riches: and are dysenherited of the best, which are virtues. That which I perceive in this matter, as well of the father which is dead, as of the children which are alive, is that Theodose was virtuous in deed, and the children are capable to follow both good and evil, and therefore it is requisite that you now go about it. For the prince which is young, is in great peril, when in his youth he beginneth not to follow the steps of virtue. To speak particularly of Archadius, and Honorius, I let the know Estilconus, that it is a thing superfluous to talk of it, for I should lose my time: because the things of Princes are very delicate, and though we have licence to praise their virtues, yet we are bound to dissemble their faults.  
As a sage father Theodose desire that to give his children good doctrine, & always to accompany them: But I as a friend do counsel thee, that thou keep them from evil. For in the end all is evil, to accompany with the evil, & forsake the good: but the worse evil pursueth us, rather by the presence of the evil, than by the absence of the good. It may well be, that one being alone, & without the company of the good, may yet notwithstanding be good: but for one that is accompanied with evil men, to be good, of this I greatly doubt. For the same day: that a man accompanieth himself with the vicious: the self same day he is bound to be subject to vice. O Estilconus, since thou so much desirest to accomplish the commandment of thy lord and master Theodose, if thou canst not cause that Archadius and Honorius (which are young princes) do accompany with the good: yet at the least withdraw them from the company of the evil. For in the courts of princes vicious men are none other, but solicitors in this world to attempt others to be vicious. How many, & what solicitors have we seen (thou and I in Rome) the which forgetting the affairs of their Lords, did solicit for themselves, vices and pleasures. I will not tell what servants of princes have been in times past: but what they were, & what they are, every man may easily see. I will tell the only, not of those which ought to be counsellors of princes: but also of those, which ought not to live in their courts. For the counsellors and officers of princes ought to be so just: that shears can not find what to cut away in their lives, nor that there needeth any needle or thread to amend their fame. If thou Estilconus haste hard what I have said: mark now what I will say, and keep it in memory, for peradventure it may profit the one day.  
In the courts of princes, proud men ought to have no familiarity nor entertainment. For it is unseemly that those which are not gentle in words, should command: & those that have not their hearts ready to obey, should be familiar with the prince. In the courts of princes, there ought not to be of counsel, & much less familiar, envious men: for if envy reign amongst Princes and counsellors, there shall always be dissensions in the common wealth. In the courts of princes hasty men ought not to have familiarity: for oftentimes it chanceth, that the impatience of the counsellors, causeth the people to be evil content with their princes. In the courts of princes there ought not to be familiar, nor of counsel, greedy nor covetous men: for the Princes give great occasion to the people to be hated, because their servants have always their hands open to receive bribes. In the courts of princes there ought not to be familiar fleshly men: for the vice of the flesh hath in it so little profit, that he that is wholly overcome there with, is or aught to be to the prince always suspected. In the palace of a king there ought not to be drunkards, nor gluttons: for whereas the familiars aught principally to serve their prince's with good counsel, in mine opinion a man being full & surcharged with excess is more like to bealche & break wind after his surfeit: then able to give any profitable counsel in the common wealth. In the palace of princes ought not to be resient nor familiar blasphemers: for the man which is a servant, and openly dare blaspeme his creator: will not spare in secret to speak evil of his Lord.  
In the palace of princes ought not to be of counsel, nor familiar, the negligent and delicate persons: For there is nothing (next unto the divine providence) that helpeth princes more to be puissant, and mighty, then when their servants are faithful, and diligent. In the palace of princes defamed men ought not to have familiarity: for the prince can not excuse himself to be thought culpable when they do rebuke him, if in his house he maintain servants, which openly are defamed. In the palace of princes they ought not to suffer Idiots & fools: for the re●ames are not lost for that the princes are young, uncircumspect, and vicious: but for that their counsellors are simple and malicious. woe, woe, be to the land, where the lord is vicious, the subject seditious, the servant covetous, and the counsellor simple and malicious. For than the common wealth perisheth, when ignorance & malice reigneth in the Prince and governor of the same. These words passed between the noble knight Estilconus, and the wise Philosopher Epimundus, upon the bringing up of those .2. princes Archadius, and Honorius. And because that princes and prelate's might see (which now have the charge to govern people) how much the ancients did desire to have sage men about them: notwithstanding that I have spoken, I will show you here some notable and ancient examples.   

How Croesus' king of Lydia was a great friend and lover of Sages. Of a letter the same Croesus wrote to the Philosopher Anacharsis. And of an other letter of the Philosophers answer again to the King. Chap. xlv.  
IN the year of the creation of the world, 4355. and in the third age, Sardanapalus being king of the Assyrians, Ozias king of the hebrews, and Elchias being high bishop of the holy temple, at that time when Rea the mother of Romulus lived, in the second year of the first olympiad, the great and renowned realm of Lydes, had beginning: as Pliny in the fift book of the natural history saith. Lydia is in Asia Minor, and first was called Meonia, and afterwards was called Lydia, and now is called Morea. This Realm of Lydes had many worthy cities, that is to weet, Ephese, Colose, Aclasomena, and Phore●. The first king of Lydes was Ardisius, a man of great courage, and a Greek borne, and reigned .36. year. The second was Aliaces, who reigned 14. years. The third was Meleus, and he reigned .12. years. The fourth was Candale, and reigned .4. years. The fift was Ginginus, and reigned .5. years. The sixth was Cerdus, and reigned .6. years. The vii was Sadiates, and reigned .15. years. The eight was Aliates, & he reigned .49. years and the ix was Croesus, and reigned .15. years. & of this king Croesus, Xenophon declareth that he was more valiant in feats of war: then comely of parsonage. For though he was lame of one foot, bleamished of one eye, lacking one ear, and of body not much bigger than a dwarf: yet for all this he was a just man, very constant, stout, merciful, courageous, and above all he was a great enemy to the ignorant, and a special friend to the sage. Of this King Croesus, Seneca speaketh in his book of clemency and sayeth, that the sages were so entirely beloved of him, that the Greeks (which had the fountain of eloquence) did not call him a lover, but entitled him the love of sages. For never no lover did so much to attain to the love of his lady, as he did to draw to him, and to his country, sage men. This king Croesus therefore being lord of many Barbarous nations (the which loved better to drink the blood of the innocent: then to learn the science of the wise) like an excellent Prince determined for the comfort of his person, and remedy of his common wealth, to search out the greaetst sages that were in Grece. At that time flourished the famous and renowned philosopher Anacharsis, who though he was borne & brought up amongs the Scithies: yet he was always resident notwithstanding in Athens. For the university of Athens did not despise those that were Barbarians: but those that were vicious. The king Croesus sent an ambassador in great authority with riches, to the Philosopher Anacharsis, to persuade and desire him, and with those gifts and presents to present him, to the end it might please him to come and see his person, and to set an order in his common wealth. Croesus not contented to send him gifts which the imbassatour carried, but for to let him understand why he did so, wrote him a letter with his own hand as hereafter followeth.  

The letter of king Croesus, to Ancharsis the Philosopher.  
Cresus' king of Lydes, wisheth to the Anacharsis great Philosopher, which remainest in Athens, health to thy person, and increase of virtue. Thou shalt see how well I love thee, in that I never saw thee, nor knew thee, to write unto the a letter. For the things which with the eyes have never been seen: seldom times with the heart are truly beloved. Thou dost esteem little (as truth is) these my small gifts, and presents which I send thee: yet I pray the greatly esteem the will and heart wherewith I do visit the. For noble hearts receive more thankfully that which a man desireth to give them: then that which they do give them in deed. I desire to correct this my Realm, and to see amendment in the common wealth. I desire some good order for my person, and to take order touching the government of my palace. I desire to communicate with a sage some things of my life, and none of these things can be done without thy presence. For there was never any good thing made, but by the mean of wisdom. I am lame, I am crooked, I am bald, I am a counterfeit, I am black, and also I am broken, finally amongst all other men I am a monster. But all these imperfections are nothing to those that remain, that is to weet, I am so infortunate, that I have not a Philosopher with me. For in the world there is no greater shame: than not to have a wise man about him to be conversant withal. I count myself to be dead, though to the simple fools I seem to be alive. And the cause of my death is, because I have not with me some wise person. For truly he is only alive amongst the living: who is accompanied with the sages. I desire the greatly to come, and by the immortal gods I conjure the that thou make no excuse: and if thou wilt not at my desire, do it for that thou art bound. For many men oftentimes condescend to do that which they would not: more for virtues sake, then to satisfy the demand of any other. Thou shalt take that which my ambassador shall give thee, and believe that which he shall tell in my behalf, and by this my letter I do promise thee, that when thou shalt arrive here, I will make the treasurer of my coffers, only counsellor of mine affairs, secretary of my counsel, father of my children, refourmer of my realm, master of my person, & governor of my common wealth: finally, Anacharsis shall be Croesus, because Croesus may be Anacharsis. I say no more, but the gods have the in their custody, to whom I pray that they may hasten thy coming. The imbassatour departed to go to Athens, bearing with him this letter, and many jewels and bags of gold: and by chance Anacharsis was reading in th'university, at the arrival of the imbassatoure to Athens. Who openly said and did his message to Anacharsis, presenting unto him the gifts and the letter. Of which thing all those of the university marveled, for the barbarous princes were not accustomed to seek philosophers, to govern their common wealth: but to put them to death, and take from them their lives. After the great philosopher Anacharsis had hard the embassage, seen the gifts, and received the letter, without altering his countenance, or elation of his person, impediment in his tongue, or desire of the riches: immediately before all the philosophers, said these words, which hear after are written.   

The letter of the Philosopher Anacharsis to the king Croesus.  
ANacharsis the least of the philosophers, wisheth to the Croesus, most mighty and puissant king of Lides, the health which thou wisshest him, and the increase of virtue which thou sendest him. They have told us many things here in these parties, aswell of thy realm, as of thy person, and there in those parties they say many things, as well of our university, as of myself. For the heart taketh great pleasure, to know the conditions and lives of all those in the world. It is well done to desire and procure to know all the lives of the evil, to amend our own. It is well done to procure and know the lives of the good for to follow them: but what shall we do, since now a days the evil do not desire to know the lives of the evil, but for to cover them and keep them secret, and do not desire to know the lives of the good for to follow them. I let the know (king Croesus) that the philosophers of Greece felt not so much pain to be virtuous, as they felt in defending them from the vicious. For if a man once behold virtue, immediately she suffereth to be taken: but the evil for any good that a man can do unto them, never suffereth themselves to be vanquished. I believe well that the tyranny of the Realm is not so great as they talk of here, neither oughtest thou likewise to believe that I am so virtuous, as they report me to be there. For in mine opinion those which declare news of strange countries, are as the poor which were their garments all to patched and peced, whereof the pieces that were sown on of new, are in more quantity of cloth: then the old which before they had, when they were first made. Beware (king Croesus) and be not as the barbarous princes are, which use good words, and evil deeds. For they go about with fair words, to cover the infamy of their cruel deeds. Marvel not though we philosophers, readers in schools, desire not to live with you Princes, governors of Realms. For evil Princes for none other intent seek the company of wise men, but only because they would through them excuse their faults. For doing as thou dost (of will, and not of right) you will that the vulgar people think you do it by the counsel of a wise man. I let the understand (King Croesus) that the Prince which desireth to govern his people well, ought not to be content to have one only sage in his palace. For it is not meet that the government of many, do consist in the advise of one alone. Thy ambassador hath said by word, and the self same thy letter testifieth, that thou art certified that I am counted for sage throughout all Greece, and that this presupposed, I would come to thee to govern thy common wealth. And for the contrary thou doing thus (as thou dost) condemnest me to be an Idiot, for thou thinking that I would take thy gold is nothing else, but for to rail upon me as a fool. The chief point wherein true philosophy is known, is when he despiseth the things of the world: for there never agreeth together the liberty of the soul, and the care of goods in this life. O king Croesus, I let thee understand, that he which knoweth most the course of the element is not called sage: but it is he which least knoweth the vices of this world. For the true Philosopher profiteth more by not knowing the evil, then by learning the good. I let thee understand I am three score and seven years old, and yet never before this time there reigned Ire in me, but when thy embassage was presented to me, and that I saw laid at my feet such treasure and riches. For upon this deed I gather, that either wisdom lacketh in thee, or that great covetousness aboundeth in me. I do send thee thy gold again which thou sendest me, and thy ambassador shall declare (as witness of sight) how greatly it hath slandered all Grece. For it was never seen nor heard of, that in any wise they should suffer gold to enter into the university of Athens. For it should not only be a dishonour to the philosophers of Grece to have riches: but also it would turn them to great infamy to desire them. O king Croesus, if thou knowest it not, it is but reason thou know it, that in the schools of Grece we learn not to command, but to obey: not to speak, but to be silent: not to resist, but to humble ourselves: not to get much, but to content us with little: not to revenge offences, but to pardon injuries: not to take from others, but to give our own: not to be honoured, but to travail to be virtuous: finally we learn to despise that which other men love: and to love that which other men despise, which is poverty. Thou thoughtest that I would accept thy gold, or else that I would not. If thou thoughtest I would have taken it, than thou hadst had reason not to have receive me afterwards into thy palace: for it is a great infamy, that the covetous man should be acceptable to a prince. If thou thoughtest that I would none of it, thou were not wise to take the pains to send it: for princes ought never to take upon them things: wherein (as they think) the subjects should lose their honesty in receiving them. See king Croesus, and behold that by diligence it little availeth to search for the physician, & afterwards to do nothing of that which by him is ordained. I mean that it shall not profit, but rather it shall be harm, that I come into thy common wealth, & that afterwards thou wilt not do that which I shall ordain therein, for great dangers ensue to alter the humours with siropes: unless they take afterwards a purgation to purge away the same. For to redress thy barbarous realm, & to satisfy thy good desire, I am determined to condescend unto thy request, and to accomplish thy commandment, upon condition, that thou shalt ensure me of these things following. For the labourer ought not to sow his seed, before the ground be ploughed & tilled.  
The first, thou shalt forsake the evil custom which ye barbarous kings do use, that is to weet, to heap up treasures, and not to spend them. For every prince, which is covetous of treasures, is scarcely of capacity to receive good counsel.  
The second, thou shalt not only banish out of thy place, but also out of thy court all flatterers: for the prince that is a friend of flatterers: of necessity must be an enemy of the truth.  
The third, thou shalt end the wars which thou (at this present) dost maintain against the people of Corinthe: for every prince that loveth foreign wars, must needs hate the peace of his common wealth.  
The fourth, thou shalt banish from thy house all those jugglers, comediantes and minstrels: for the prince which occupieth himself to hear vain and trifling things, in time of necessity shall not apply himself to those which be of weight and importance.  
Fiftly, thou shalt provide that all loiterers and vacaboundes be expulsed from thy person, and banished thy palace: for idleness and negligence are cruel enemies of wisdom.  
Sixtly, thou shalt banish from thy court and palace, all liars and seditious men: for when liars are suffered in the palace of princes, it is a sign that the king and the realm falleth into utter destruction.  
The seventh, thou shalt promise that in all the days of thy life thou shalt not press me to receive any thing of thee: for the day that thou shalt corrupt me with gifts, it is necessary that I corrupt thee with evil counsels. For there is no counsel that is good, but that which proceedeth from the man that is not covetous.  
If on these conditions the king Croesus desireth the philosopher Anacharsis, that philosopher Anacharsis desireth the king Croesus: & if not, I had rather be a disciple of sage philosophers, than a king of the barbarous people. Vale felix rex.  
Sith this letter doth declare it, it is needles for my pen to write it, that is to weet, what was the humanity, & goodness of king Croesus, to write unto a poor philosopher: & how great the courage of a philosopher was to despise the gold, & to say (as he did) in this behalf. Therefore let princes note here, that such aught the sages to be they should choose, and let Sages note hear also upon what conditions they ought to enter into the palace of princes. For this is such a bargain, that it seldom times chanceth, but that one of the parties are deceived.    

¶ Of the wisdom and sentences of Phalaris the tyrant, and how he put an Artisan to death for inventing new torments. Cap. xlvi.  
IN the last year of the Latins, and in the first year of the Romans, Ezechias being king of the jews, and Azarias great bishop of the holy temple, Abacuch Prophet in jewry, and Merodach being king in Babylon, and when the Lacedæmonians built Bizaunce (which now is Constantinople) Phalaris the famous tyrant was then living. Of this Phalaris ovid saith, that he was deformed in his face, spoore blind of his eyes, and exceeding covetous of riches, and never observed any thing that he promised. He was unthankful to his friends, and cruel to his enemies: finally he was such a one, that the tyrannies which severally were scattered in others, in him alone were altogethers assembled. Amongst all the iniquities that he invented, and amongst all the tyrannies that he committed, he had one virtue very great, which was, that even as he was only head of all tyrannies: so was he chief lover and friend of all philosophers and sage men. And in all those six and thirty years which he governed the realm by tyranny, they never found that any man touched his beard, nor that any man sat at the table with him, spoke unto him, or slept in his bed, nor that any man saw in his countenance any mirth, unless it were some philosopher or sage man, with whom, and to whom he liberally put his body in trust. And they said that this Phalaris said oftentimes. The prince that absenteth himself from sage men, and accompanieth with fools: I say unto him, though he be a prince of his common wealth, he is a cruel tyrant of his person. For it is a greater pain to live among fools, then to die amongst sages. Pulio in the sixth book De gestis Romanorum saith, that a worthy and excellent painter presented a table to Octavian the Emperor, wherein were drawn all the virtuous princes, and for their chefetaine, Octavian the Emperor was drawn: at the foot of this table were all the tyrannous Princes painted, of the which Phalaris was chief and captain. This table viewed by Octavian the Emperor, he commended the work, but he disallowed the intention thereof, saying: me thinketh it not meet that I being alive, should be set chief and princicipal of all the virtuous men that are dead. For during the time of this wicked life, we are all subject to the vices of weak and feeble flesh. Also it seemeth unto me an unjust thing, that they should put Phalaris for principal, and captain of all the tyrants: since he was a scourge and enemy, to fools and ignorant men: and so earnest a lover and friend of sages, and wise philosophers. The fame of this cruel tyrant Phalaris being known, and his extreme cruelties he used, spread through all Greece.  
A neighbour and artificer of Athens called Perillus (a man very excellent in metals, and a great worker in works of fountains) came to Phalaris the tyrant, saying that he would make such a kind of torment, that his heart should remain revenged, and the offender well punished. The matter was, that this workman made a bull of brass, wherein there was a gate by the which they put the offender, and in putting the fire under the bull, it roared, and cried, in manner as it had been alive: which thing was not only a horrible and cruel torment, to the miserable creature that endured it, but also it was terrible to him or those that saw it. Let us not marvel neither at the one, nor at the other: for truly the pitiful heart (which is not fleshed in cruelty) hath as much pity to see an other man suffer, as of the sorrow and torment which he himself feeleth. Phalaris therefore seeing the invention of this torment (whereof the inventor hoped great reward) provided, that the inventor of the same should be put within the bull, and that the cruelty of the torment should be experimented in none, save only on the inventor. Truly in this case Phalaris showed himself not a cruel tyrant, but rather a merciful Prince, and a sage Philosopher: for nothing can be more just, then that the invention of the malice be executed, on the frail flesh of the inventor. Now because Phalaris was a great friend of sages, the philosophers of Grece came oftentimes to see him, which were very gently received of him. Though to say the truth they profited more with his goods than he did with their philosophy. This tyrant Phalaris was not only a friend of sages: but also he was very well learned, and deeply seen in moral philosophy. The which thing appeareth well in the epistles, which he wrote with his own hand. I can not tell wherein he showed himself greater, either in the sentences and doctrines which he wrote with his pen: or in the slaughter and cruelties which he did with his sword. O how many companions had Phalaris the tyrant, in this case in times pass: and that (as I would) there were none also at this time present, which in their pleasant words did not resemble the Emperor Nero. I never read other thing of those that are gone, neither have I seen otherwise of those that are present, but many they are that blaze virtues, and infinite which run after vices. For of truth we are very light of tongue, and to feeble of flesh. The Epistles which this Phalaris wrote are known to all men, I mean of those which know Greek, or latin: and for those that know them not, I was willing to draw these that are present, and to put them in our vulgar tongue for two causes. The one to the end princes might see how good a thing it is to be sage, and how tyrants were praised for being Sages, and giving good counsels. The other, to the end the people might see how easy it is to speak well, and how hard it is to work well. For there is nothing better cheap in the world, than counsel. The sentences therefore of the Epistles of Phalaris are these which follow, in such sort as I could most briefly gather them, to reduce them in good and profitable style to write them.  
The particular love which princes show to one more than an other, breadeth oftentimes much envy in their Realms. For the one being loved, and the other hated, of this cometh hatred, & of hatred cometh evil thoughts, of evil thoughts proceedeth malice, and of malice cometh evil words, the which break out into worse deeds: Finally when a prince showeth not to equals his favour indifferently, he setteth fire in his common wealth. Prince's ought to forbid, and Sages ought not to consent, that rebels and quarrelers should trouble those which are quiet and peace makers: for when the people rise, immediately covetousness is awaked. When covetousness groweth, justice falleth, force and violence ruleth, snatching reigneth, lechery is at liberty, the evil have power, and the good are oppressed: finally all do rejoice one to live to the prejudice of an other, and every man to seek his own private commodity. Many vain men do raise dissensions and quarrels amongst people, thinking that in troubled water, they should augment their estates, who in short space do not only lose the hope of that they sought: but also are put out of that they possessed. For it is not only reasonable, but also most just, that those by experience feel that, which their blind malice will not suffer them to know.  
It is much good for the people that the governors be not unfortunate▪ but that of their nature they were happy. For to lucky Princes, fortune giveth many things even as they demand, yea and giveth them better than they look for. The noble and valiant princes, when they see themselves with other princes, or that they are present in great acts, ought to show the freeness of their heart, the greatness of their realm, the pre-eminence of their person, the love of their common wealth, and above all the discipline of their court, and the gravity of their counsel and palace. For the sage and curious men should not behold the prince in the apparel, which he weareth: but the men which he hath to counsel him. The sage men, and those that be not covetous, if they do employ their forces to heap up treasures, aught to remember in their hearts how to employ themselves to spend their money well. Scythe fortune is masters in all things, and that to her they do impute both good and evil works, he alone may be called a princely man, who for no contrariety of fortune is overcome. For truly that man is of a stout courage, whose heart is not vanquished by the force of fortune. Though we praise one for valiant with the sword, we will not therefore praise him for excellent with the pen. Although he be excellent with his pen, he is not therefore excellent with his tongue. Though he have a good tongue, he is not therefore well learned. And though he be learned, he hath not therefore good renown. And though he hath good renown, he is not therefore of a good life. For we are bound to receive the doctrines of many which write: but we are not bound to follow the lives which they do lead. There is no worse office amongst men, then to take the charge to punish the vices of an other, and therefore men ought to fly from it, as from the pestilence: for in correcting vices, hatred is more sure to the corrector, than amendment of life is to the offender.  
He hath and possesseth much that hath good friends: For many aid their friends, when they would have helped them more if they could. For the true love is not wearied to love, nor ceaseth not to profit. Though sage men have lost much, they ought not therefore to despair, but that they shall come to it again in tyme. For in the end, time doth not cease to do his accustomed alterations, nor perfect friends cease not to do that which they ought. The proud and disdainful man (for the most part) always falleth into some evil chance, therefore it is a commendable medicine some times to be persecuted: for adversity maketh a wise man live more safely, and to walk in less danger. For so much as we do excuse him which committeth the fault, there is neither the offender, nor the offence but deserveth pain. For such a one that committeth the fault through sudden anger, did evil: and if he did commit it by deliberation, he did much worse. To desire to do all things by reason is good, and likewise to lay them all in order is good, but it is very hard: For temperate men have such respect in compassing their doings, and by weight so cast all the inconveniences, that scarcely they ever determine to go about it. To the man which hath government two things are dangerous, that is to weet, to soon or to late: But of those two, the worst is to soon. For if by determining late, a man loseth that which he might have gotten: by determining to soon, that is lost which is now gained, and that which a man might have gained.  
To men which are to hasty, chance daily many evils and dangers, as saith the proverb. The hasty man never wanteth woe. For the man being unpatient, and having his understanding high, afterward come quarrels and brawlings, displeasures, varieties, and also vanities, which looseth their goods, and putteth their persons in danger. Scythe all naturally desire to be happy, he alone amongst all others may be called happy, of whom they may truly say: he gave good doctrine to live, and left good example to die. These and many other sentences Phalaris the tyrant wrote in his letters, whereof Cicero profited much in his works, and Seneca also in his epistles and many other writers besides: For this tyrant was very brief in words, and compendious in sentences. This Phalaris being in his city of Agrigente, a Philosopher of Grece wrote him a taunting letter, charging him with tyranny, to which he answered with this letter following.  

¶ The letter of Phalaris the tyrant to Popharco the Philosopher.  
PHalaris Agrigentine, wisheth unto thee Popharco the Philosopher, health and consolation through the comfortable Gods. I received thy letter here in Agrigentine, and though it savoured somewhat Satirlike, I was not aggrieved therewith: for of philosophers and sages (as thou art) we should not be grieved with the sharp words you tell us, but to consider the intention whereupon you speak them. quarrelers and malicious persons, will have the words by weight and measure, but the virtuous and patient men, do not regard but the intentions. For if we should go about to examine every word they speak unto us: we should give ourselves to much pain, and we should always set in the common wealth debate. I am a tyrant, & as yet am in tyranny: but I swear unto the immortal gods, whether the word were good, or bad, I never altered it. For if a good man tell it me, I take it for my pastime. Thou writest unto me that all Grece is offended with me there: but I let them understand that all Agrigentine is all edified with thee here. And thereof thou mayst praise me. For if the tyrants were not so much dispraised, the philosophers should not be so well loved. Thou art counted for good, & art good: and I am counted for evil, and am evil. But in mine opinion thou shouldest not be proud for the one, neither I should dispeire for the other. For the day of the life is long, and therein fortune doth many things, & it may well be, that from a tyrant I shallbe a philosopher: & thou from a philosopher shalt be a tyrant. See my friend, that the long time maketh oftentimes the earth to be turned to silver: & the silver & gold becometh nothing worth. I mean, that there never was a tyrant in any realm, but that first he had been brought up in the studies of Grece. I will not deny, that all the renowned tyrants have not been nourished in Scicile: but also thou shalt not deny me, that they were not borne in Grece. Therefore see and behold to whom the fault is: from the mother which bore them, or from the nurse which gave them suck. I do not say that it shallbe, but I say that it may well be, that if I were there in Grece, I should be a better philosopher than thou: & if thou were here in Agrigentine, thou wouldst be a worse tyrant than I. I would thou shouldest think, that thou mightest be better in Grece where thou art: and that I might be worse in Agrigentine where I am.  
For thou dost not so much good as thou mightest do: and I do not so much evil as I may do. The cunning man Perillus came into these parts and hath made a Bull, wherein he hath put a kind of torment, the most fear fullest in the world: and truly I caused, that that which his malice had invented, should be of none other than of himself experimented. For there is no juster law, that when any workman have invented engines, to make other men die: then to put them to the torments by them invented, to know the experience in themselves. I beseech the heartily to come and see me, and be thou assured thou shalt make me good. For it is a good sign for the sick, when he acknowledgeth his sickness to the Physician, I say no more to thee, but that once again I return to solicit thee, that thou failest not to come to see me. For in the end, if I do not profit of thee, I am sure thou shalt profit by me: and if thou winnest, I cannot lose.    

¶ How Philippe king of Macedonia, Alexander the great, the king Ptolomeus, the king Antigonus, the king Archelaus, and P●rrus king of the Epirotes, were all great lovers and friends of the sages. Cap. xlvii.  
IF Quintus Curtius deceive me not, the great Alexander, son to king philip of Macedome, did not deserve to be called great, for that he was accompanied with thousands of men of war: but he wan the renown of great, for that he had more philosophers on his counsel then all other princes had. This great prince never took upon him wars, but that first the order of executing the same should before his presence be examined of the sages, and wise philosophers. And truly he had reason. For in affairs, where good counsel have proceeded, they may always look for a good end. These Historiographers which wrote of great Alexander (as well the Grecians as the Latins) know not whether the fierceness wherewith he struck his enemies was greater, or the humanity wherewith he embraced his counsel. Though the sage philosophers which accompanied the great Alexander were many in number: yet notwithstanding amongst all those, Aristotle, Anaxarcus, and Onosichrates were his most familiars, And herein Alexander showed himself very wise. For wise princes ought to take the counsel of many, but they ought to determine and conclude upon the opinion of few. The great Alexander did not content himself, to have sages with him, neither to send only to desire those which were not his: but oftentimes himself in person would go see them, visit them, and counsel with them. Saying that the Princes which are the servants of sages, come to be made masters and Lords over all.  
In the time of Alexander Magnus, Diogenes the philosopher lived, who neither for entreaty, nor yet for any promises made, would come to see Alexander the great. Wherefore the great Alexander went to see him, and when he had desired him to go with him, and acompany him, Diogenes answered.  
O Alexander, since thou wilt win honour in keeping of men in thy company: it is not reason that I should lose it, to forsake my study: For in following thee, I shall not follow myself: and being thine, I shall cease to be mine.  
Thou art come to have the name of the great ALEXANDER, for conquering the world, and I have attained to come to renown of a good Philosopher in flying the world. And if thou dost imagine that thou hast gotten, and won: I think that I have not erred, nor lost, And since thou wilt be no less in authority then a king, do not think that I will lose the estimation of a philosopher. For in the world there is no greater loss unto a man, then when he looseth his proper liberty. When he had spoken these words, Alexander said unto them that were about him with a loud voice. By the immortal gods I swear, and as god Mars rule my hands in battle, if I were not Alexander the great, I would be Diogenes the Philosopher. And he said further, in mine opinion there is no other felicity upon the earth, then to be Alexander king, who commandeth all, or to be Diogenes to command Alexander, who commandeth all. As king Alexander was more familiar with some philosophers, then with others: so he esteemed some books more than others. And they say he read oftentimes in the Iliads of Homer, which is a book where the story of the destruction of Troy is: and that when he slept, he laid under his head upon a bolster his sword, and also his book. When the great king Alexander was borne, his father King of Macedon did two notable things. The one was, that he sent many and very rich gifts into the isle of Delphos, where the Oracle of Apollo was, to the end to present them with him, and to pray him, that it would please him to preserve his son. The other thing that he did was, that immediately he wrote a letter to the great Philosopher Aristotel, where in he said these words.  

¶ The letter of king Philippe to Aristotle the philosopher.  
PHilippe king of Macedon, wisheth health and peace, to the Philosopher Aristotel, which readeth in the university of Grece. I let the understand, that Olimpias my wife is brought to bed of a goodly man child, whereof both she and I, and all Macedon do rejoice. For kings & realms ought to have great joy, when there is borne any son successor of the natural prince of the province. I render thanks unto the immortal gods, & have sent many great gifts to the Temples, and it was not so much for that I have a son, as for that they have given him unto me, in the time of so great and excellent philosopher. I hope that thou wilt bring him up, and teach him in such sort, that by heritage he shallbe Lord of my patrimony of Macedon, and by desert he shallbe lord of all Asia: so that they should call him my son, and the his father. Vale foelix, iterumque vale. Ptolomeus father in law, who was the viii. king of the Egyptians, did greatly love the sages as well of Caldea, as of Grece, and this thing was esteemed for a great virtue in king Ptolemy. For there was as much envy between the Philosophers of Greece, and the sages of Egypt: as between the captains of Rome, and the captains of Carthage. This Ptolemy was very wise, and did desire greatly to be accompanied with philosophers: and after this he learned the letters of the latins, Caldes, and hebrews, For the which cause, though the kings named Ptolemy were .11. in number, and all warlike men: yet they put this for the chief, and captain of all, not for the battles which he wan, but for the sentences which he learned. This king Ptolomeus had for his familiar, a philosopher called Estilpho Megarense, who was so entirely beloved of this prince that (laying aside the gentleness and benefits which he showed him) he did not only eat with the king at his table: but oftentimes the king made him drink of his own cup. And as the favours which princes show to their servants, are but as a watch to prove the malicious: it chanced, that when this king gave the philosopher to drink that which remained in his cup, an Egyptian knight moved with envy, said unto king Ptolemy. I think Lord how that thou art never satisfied with drinking, to leave that which remaineth in the cup, for the philosopher to drink after the. To whom the king answered. Thou sayest well, that the philosopher Estilpho is never filled with that which I do give him. For that which remaineth in my cup, doth not profit him so much to drink: as the philosophy which remaineth in him should profit thee, if thou wouldst take it. The king Antigonus was one of the most renowned servants, that king Alexander the great ever had, who after his death enherited a great part of his empire. For how much happy the king Alexander was in his life, so much he was unhappy at the time of his death: because he had no children which might inherit his goods, and that he had such servants as spoiled him of his renown. This king Antigonus was an unthrift, and excessive in all vices: But for all that he loved greatly the Philosophers, which thing remained unto him from king Alexander, whose palace was a school of all the good Philosophers of the world. Of this ensample they may see what great profit ensueth, of bringing up of them that be young, for there is none that ever was so wicked or inclined unto evil: but that in long contynuannce may profit somewhat in his youth. This king Antigonus loved two. philosophers greatly, the which flourished in that time, that is to weet Amenedius, & Abio, of which two. Abio was well learned, & very poor. For in that time no philosopher durst openly read philosophy, if he were worth any thing in temporal goods. As Laertius saith, and as Pulio declareth it better, in the book of the rulers and noble men of the Greeks. The schools of the universytie were so correct, that the Philosopher which knew most, had least goods: so that they did not glorify of any thing else: but to have poverty, and to know much of philosophy. The case was such, that the philosopher Abio was sick, and with that sickness he was so vexed, that they might almost see the bones of his weak body. The king Antigonus sent to visit him by his own son, by whom he sent him much money to he help him with all. For he lived in extreme poverty, as it behoved the professors of Philosophy. Abio was sore sick, being aged, and crooked, and though he had made himself so leave with sickness: yet notwithstanding he burned always upon the week of good life. I mean that he had no less courage to despise those gifts: then the king Antigonus had nobles to send them. This Philosopher not contented to have despised these gifts in such sort, said unto the son of Antigonus, who brought them. Tell king Antigonus, that I give him great thanks, for the good entertainment he gave me always in my life, and for the gifts he sendeth me now at my death.  
For one friend can do no more to an other, than to offer him his parson, and to depart with his proper goods. And tell the king thy father, that I marvel what he should mean, that I now being four score years of age, & have walked all my life time naked in this world, should now be laden with vestures & money, since I must pass so straight a gulf in the sea, to go out of this world. The Egyptians have a custom to lighten the burden of their camels, when they pass the deserts of Arabia which is much better than to overcharge them. I mean, that he only passeth without travail the dangers of the life, which bannisheth from him the thought of temperal goods of this world. Thirdly thou shalt say to the king thy father, that from henceforth when any man will die, he do not secure nor help him with money, gold, nor riches, but with good and ripe counsel. For gold will make him leave his life with sorrow, and good counsail-will move him to take his death with patience. The fift king of the Macedonians was called Archelaus, who they say to be the grandfather of king Philip, father of the great Alexander. This king boasteth himself to descend from Menelaus, king of the Grecians, and principal captain which was at the destruction of Troy, This king Archelaus was a great friend to the sages and amongst others there was a Poet with him called Euripides, who at that time had no less glory in his kind of Poetry: then Archelaus in his kingdom being king of Macedonia. For now a days, we esteem more the sages for the books which they wrote: then we do exalt kings for the realms which they ruled, or the battles which they overcome. The familiarity which Euripides had with the king Archelaus was so straight, and his credit with Archelaus was so great, that in the Realm of Macedon nothing was done, but first it was examined by the hands of this philosopher. And as the simple and ignorant would not naturally be subject to the sage: it chanced that one night Euripides was talking a long time with the king, declaring unto him the ancient histories, and when the poor Poet would departed to go home to his house, his enemies espied him, and let hungry dogs fly upon him: the which did not only tear him in pieces, but eat him every morsel. So that the intraylles of the dogs, were the woeful grave of the miserable poet, The king Archilaus being certified of this woeful case, immediately (as soon as they told him) was so chafed, that almost he was bereft of his senses. And here at marvel not at al. For gentle hearts do alter greatly, when they are advertised of any sudden mishap. As the love which the king had to Euripides in his life was much, so likewise the sorrow which he felt at his death was very great. For he shed many tears from his eyes, he cut the hears of his head, he rounded his beard, he changed the apparel which he wear, and above all, he made as solemn a funeral to Euripides, as if they had buried Ulysses. And not contented withal these things he was never merry, until such time he had done cruel execution of the malefactors, For truly the injury or death which is done unto him whom we love: is no other but as a bath and token of our own good wills. After justice was executed of those homycides, and that some of the bones (all gnawn of the dogs) were buried, a Grecian knight said unto king Archelaus. I let the know excellent king, that all Macedonia is offended with thee, because that for so small a loss thou haste showed so great sorrow. To whom king Archelaus answered. Among sages it is a thing sufficiently tried, that noble hearts ought not to show themselves sad, for mishaps and sudden chances: For the king being sad his realm can not (and though it might, it ought not) show itself merry. I have heard my father say once, that princes should never shed tears, unless it were for one of these causes.  
1 The first, the Prince should bewail the loss and danger of his common wealth: for the good Prince ought to pardon the injuries done to his parson: but to revenge the least act done to the common wealth, he ought to hazard himself.  
2 The second, the good prince ought to lament if any man have touched his honour in any wise: for the Prince which weepeth not drops of blood for the things touching his honour, deserveth to be buried quick in his grave.  
3 The third, the good Prince ought to bewail those which can little, and suffer much: For the Prince which bewaileth not the calamities of the poor, in vain and without profit liveth on the earth.  
4 The fourth, the good Prince ought to bewail the glory and prosperity wherein the tyrants are: For that prince which with tyranny of the evil is not displeased, with the hearts of the good is unworthy to be beloved.  
5 The fift, the good Prince ought to bewail the death of wise men: For to a Prince there can come no greater loss, then when a wise man dieth in his common wealth.  
These were the words, which the king Archelaus answered the Grecian knight, who reproved him because he had wept for the death of Euripides the philosopher. The ancient Historiographers can say no more, of the estimation which the Philosophers and wise men had, as well the Greeks as the latins: but I will tell you one thing worthy of noting. It is well known through all the world, that Scipio the Ethnic, was one of the worthyeste that ever was in Rome: for by his name, and by his occasion, Rome got such a memory as shall evermore endure. And this was not only for that he conquered Affrycke, but for the great worthiness of his person. Men ought not to esteem a little these two gifts in one man, that is to weet, to be happy, and adventures: For many of the ancients in times past wan glory by their swords, & after lost it by their evil lives. The Romans historographers say, that the first that wrote in heroical meeter in the Latin tongue, was Ennius the poet, the works of whom was so esteemed of Scipio the Ethnic, that when this adventurous & so lucky Roman died, he commanded in his will and testament, that they should hang the image of this Ennius the Poet over his grave. By that the great Scipio did at his death, we may well conjecture how great a friend he was of sages in his life: since he had rather for his honour, set the statue of Ennius on his grave: than the banner wherewith he wan and conquered Africa. In the time of Pirrus (which was king of the Epirotes, & great enemy of the Romans) flourished a philosopher named Cinas, borne in Thessaly, who (as they say) was the disciple of Demosthenes. The historiographers at that time did so much esteem this Cinas, that they said he was the master & measure of man's eloquence. For he was very pleasant in words, & profound in sentences. This Cinas served for 3. offices in the palace of king Pyrrus.  
1 First he made pastime at his table in that he did declare: for he had a good grace in things of laughter.  
2 Secondarily he wrote the valiant deeds of his history: for in his style he had great eloquence, and to write the truth he was a witness of sight.  
3 Thirdly he went for ambassador in affairs of great importance: for he was naturally subtile and witty, and in dispatching business he was very fortunate. He used so many means in his business, and had so great persuasion in his words, that he never took upon him to speak of things of war: but either he set a long truce, or else he made a perpetual peace. The king Pyrrus said to this Cynas. O Cinas for three things I thank the immortal gods.  
1 The first, for that they created me a king, and not a servant: for the greatest good that mortal men have, is to have liberty to command many, and not to be bound to obey any.  
2 The second, I thank the immortal gods for that they naturally made me stout of heart: for the man which with every trifle is abashed, it were better for him to leave his life.  
3 The third, I give the immortal gods thanks for that in the government of my common wealth, and for the great affairs and business of my real me (as well in wars, as in other things) they gave me such a man (as thou art) in my company: For by thy gentle speech, I have conquered and obtained many Cities, which by my cruel sword I could never win nor attain. These were the words which Pyrrus said to his friend Cinas the Poet. Let every Prince know now, how great lovers of wise men those were in times past: and as upon a sudden I have recited these few examples, so with small study I could have heaped infinite Histories.    
FINIS. The end of the first Book.   

The second book of the Dial of princes, wherein the author treateth, how Princes and great Lords, should behave themselves towards their wives. And how they ought to nourish, and bring up their Children  

¶ Of what excellency marriage is, and whereas common people marry of free will, Princes and noble men ought to mary of necessity. Cap. i.  
Among all the friendships and companies of this life, there is none so natural, as that between the husband and the wife living in one house: for all other compagnies are caused by free will only, but this proceedeth both by will & necessity. There is at this day no Lion so fierce, no Serpent so venomous, no Viper so infective, no Aspic so mortal, neither any beast so tirrible, but at the least both male & female do once in the year meet & conjoin: and though that in brute beasts there lacketh reason, yet notwithstanding they have a natural instinction to assemble themselves for the conservation of their kind. In this case men deserve no less reproach than beasts merit praise: for after that the females by generation are big, they never agree that the males should accompany with them. according to the diversity of nations, so among themselves they differ the one from the other, in laws, languages, ceremonies, and customs: but in the end all agree in one thing, for that they enforce themselves to celebrate marriage. As the scriptures teacheth us, Since the world was created, there hath nothing been more ancient, than the sacrament of marriage: for that day that man was form, the self same day he celebrated marriage with a woman in the terestrial paradise. The ancient historiographers (aswell Greeks as latins) wrote many great things in the praise of marriage: but they could not say nor write so much, as continual experience doth show us. Therefore leaving the superfluous, and taking the most necessary, we say that five commodities follow the sage man, who hath taken the yoke of matrimony.  
The first is, the memory which remaineth to the children as successors and heirs of their fathers. For as the philosopher Pythagoras saith, when a father passeth out of this present life, and leaveth behind him a child being his heir, they cannot say unto him that he dieth, but that he waxeth young in his child, since the child doth inherit the flesh, the goods, and the memory of the father. Among the ancients it was a common proverb, that the taste of all tastes is bread, the savour of savours is salt, and the greatest love of all loves is from the fathers to the children. And though perchance we see the fathers show some rigour to their children, we ought not therefore to say that they hate them, and despise them: for the tender love of the father to the son is such, that he cannot endure him to do any thing amiss, or worthy of rebuke. Not only men of reason and brute beasts, but also the hedge and garden trees, to their possibylitye procure to continue their kind: and it is plainly seen, in that before the fruits and herbs were form to be eaten, the seeds and kirnelles were made to be kept. Men naturally desire honour in their life, and memory after their death. Therefore I say, that they come to honour by high, and noble, and heroical fancies, but the memory is left by the good and legitimate children: for the children which are borne in adultery, are begotten in sin, and with great care are nourished.  
The second benefit of marriage is, that they avoid adultery, and it is no small matter to avoid this vice. For the adulterers are not only taken in the christian religion for offenders: but also amongst the gentiles they are counted infamous.  
The sage Solon in the laws that he gave to the Athenians, commanded upon straight precepts that they should marry, to avoid adultery, upon pain that the child that should be borne in adultery, should be made the common slave of the city. The Romans (as men foreseeing all things) ordained in the tables of their laws, that the children which were borne in adultery, should not be heirs of the goods of their fathers. When the orator Eschines was banished out of Athens, as he came by the Rhodes, he took no such pains in any one thing as he did in persuading the Rhodians to marry and not to live in adultery: for among those barbarous, matrimony was not common, but only among them which were officers of the common wealth. Cicero in a familiar epistle saith, that the great Roman Marcus Porcio being governor in the common wealth, never agreed that an uncle of his should be master of the Roman chivalry, unless he were married: which office was promised him by the senate. His name was Rufus, a stout and valiant man in war: this notwithstanding Marcus Porcio said, that that praise which Rufus deserved for being valiant and hardy: he lost again for living in adultery. And that he would never grant his voice, nor be in place where they committed any charge in the wars, to a man that had not a lawful wife. I say therefore, that if the gentiles and infidels esteemed marriage so much, & despised the deeds of that adulterers so greatly: much more Christians should be in this case ware & circumspect. For the gentiles feared nothing but only infamy: but the christians ought to fear both infamy & also pain. Since that of necessity man's seed must increase and that we see men suffer themselves to be overcome with the flesh: it wear much better they should maintain a household, and live uprightly with a wife: then to waste their goods, and burden their conscience with a concubine. For it is oft times seen, that that which a gentleman consumeth abroad upon an harlot with shame, would keep his wife and children at home with honesty.  
The third commodity of marriage is, the laudable and loving company, the which is, or aught to be between them that are married. The ancient Philosophers defining what man was, said, that he was a creature, the which by nature was sociable, communycable, and risyble, whereof it followeth, that the man being solitary and close in his conditions, can not be in his stomach but envious. We that are men love the good inclination, and do also commend the same in beasts: for all that the seditious man and the resty horse eat, we think it evil spent. A sad man, a sole man, a man shut in, and solitary, what profit can he do to the people? for if every man should be locked up in his house, the common wealth should forthwith perish. My intention is to speak against the vagabonds, which without taking upon them any craft or faculty, pass the age of forty, or fifty years, and would not, nor will not marry yet, because they would be vicious all the days of their life. It is a great shame and conscience to many men, that never determine with themselves to take upon them any estate, neither to be married, chaste, secular, or ecclesiastial: but as the cork upon the water they swyme, whether their sensuality leadeth them. One of the most laudable & holy compagnyes which is in this life, is the compagny of the man & the woman, inespecially if the woman be virtuous: for the noble and virtuous wife, withdraweth all the sorrows from the heart of her husband, and accomplisheth his desires, whereby he liveth at rest. When the wife is virtuous, & the husband wise, we ought to believe that between them two is the true love: for the one not being suspect with the other, and having children in the midst, it is unpossible but that they should live in concord. For all that I have red and seen I would say, that if the man and the wife do live quietly together, a man may not only call them good married folks, but also holy persons: for to speak the truth, the yoke of matrimony is so great, that it cannot be accomplished without much merit. The contrary aught and may be said of those which are evil married, whom we will not call a company of saints, but rather a house of devils. For the wife that hath an evil husband, may say she hath a devil in her house: and the husband that hath an evil wife, let him make account that he hath hell itself in his house. For the evil wives are worse than the infernal furies. Because in hell there are none tormented but the evil only: but the evil woman tormenteth, both the good, and the evil. Concluding therefore this matter, I say also and affirm, that betwixt the busband and the wife which are well married, is the true and very love: and they only, and no others, may be called perfit and perpetual friends. The other parents and friends, if they do love and praise us in our presence, they hate us and despise us in our absence. If they give us fair words, they bear us evil hearts: finally they love us in our prosperity, and forsake us in our adversity: but it is not so amongst the noble and virtuous married persons. For they love both within and without the house, in prosperity, and in adversity, in poverty, and in riches, in absence, and in presence, seeing themselves merry, and perceiving themselves sad, and if they do it not, truly they ought to do it: for when the husband is troubled in his foot, the wife ought to be grieved at her heart.  
The fourth commodity of marriage is, that the men and women married have more authority and gravity than the others. The laws which were made in old time in the favour of marriage, were many and diverse. For Chapharoneus, in the laws that he gave to the Egyptians, commanded and ordained upon grievous pains, that the man that was not married, should not have any office of government in the common wealth. And he said further, that he that hath not learned to govern his house, can evil govern a common wealth. According to the laws that he gave to the Athenians, he persuaded all those of the common wealth to marry themselves voluntarily: but to the heads and captains, which govern the affairs of war, he commanded to mary of necessity, saying that to men which are lecherous, God seldom giveth victories Lycurgus the renowned governor and giver of the laws of the Lacedæmonians, commanded, that all captains of the armies, and the priests of the Temples should be married: saying that the sacrifices of married men were more acceptable to the gods, than those of any other. As Plynie saith, in an epistle that he sent to Falconius his friend, rebuking him for that he was not married, where he declareth that the Romans in old time had a law, that the dictatoure, and the Praetor, the Censor, and the Questor, and all the knights should of necessity be married: for the man that hath not a wife and children legittymate in his house, cannot have nor hold great authority in the common wealth. plutarch, in the book that he made of the praise of marriage saith, that the priests of the Romans did not agree to them that were unmarried, to come and sit down in the Temples: so that the young maidens prayed without at the church door, and the young men prayed on their knees in the temple, only the married men were permitted to sit or stand. Plynie in an epistle that he wrote to Fabatus his father in law saith, that the Emperor Augustus had a custom, that he never suffered any young man in his presence to sit, nor permitted any man married to tell his tale on foot. plutarch in the book that he made in the praise of women saith, that since the realm of Corinthe was peopled more with Bachelors, then with married men: they ordained amongst them, that the man or woman that had not been married and also that had not kept children and house, (if they lived after a certain age) after their death should not be buried.   

¶ The author following his purpose, declareth that by means of marriage, many mortal enemies have been made good and perfect friends. Cap. iii.  
BY the sundry examples that we have declared, and by all that which remaineth to declare, a man may know well enough of what excellency matrimony is, not only for the charge of conscience, but also for the things touching honour: for to say the truth, the men that in the common wealth are married, give small occasion to be slandered, & have more cause to be honoured. We cannot denay, but that matrimony is troublesome & chargeable to them that be married for two causes. The one is in bringing up their children, and the other in suffering the importunities of their mothers. Yet in fi●e we cannot deny, but that the good & virtuous wife is she that setteth a stay in the house, and keepeth her husband in estimation in the common wealth: for in the public affairs, they give more faith and credit unto those that are charged with children, then unto others that are laden with years.  
The fifth commodity that ensueth matrimony, is the peace and reconciliations that are made between the enemies, by means of marriage. Men in this age are so covetous, so importune, and malicious, that there are very few but have enemies, whereby groweth contention and debate: for by our weakness, we fall daily into a thousand occasions of enmities: and scarcely we can find one to bring us again into friendship, Considering what men desire, what things they procure, and whereunto they aspire. I marvel not that they have so few friends: but I much muse that they have no more enemies. For in things of weight, they mark not who have been their friends, they consider not they are their neighbours, neither they regard that they are christians: but their conscience laid a part, and honesty set a side, every man seeketh for himself, and his own affairs, though it be to the prejudice of all his neighbours. What friendship can there be amongst proud men, since the one will go before, and the other disdaineth to come behind? What friendship can there be amongst envious men▪ since the one purchasseth, and the other possesseth? what love can there be between two covetous men, since the one dare not spend, and the other is never satisfied to hoard, and heap up. For all that we can read, see, go, and travail, and for all that we may do, we shall never see nor here tell of men that have lacked enemies: for either they be vicious, or virtuous. If they be evil and vicious, they are always hated of the good: and if they be good and virtuous, they are continually persecuted of the evil. Many of the ancient philosophers spent a great part of their time, & lost much of their goods, to search for remedies and means to reconcile them that were at debate, & contention, & to make them by gentleness good friends and lovers. Some said that it was good and profitable, to forget the enmities for a time: for many things are pardoned in time, which by reason could never take end. Others said that for to appease the enemies, it was good to offer money, because money doth not only break the feminate and tender hearts, but also the hard and craggy rocks. Others said that the best remedy was, to set good men to be mediators between them, in especially if they were sage and wise men: for the honest faces & stout hearts are ashamed when they are proffered money, and the good do humble themselves by entreaty. These means well considered, and the remydies well sought out to make friends, there are none so ready, & so true as marriage: for the marriage done sacramentally is of such & so great excellency, that between some it causeth perfit friendship, & between others it appeaseth great injuries. During the time that julius Cesar kept himself as father in law to the great Pompeius, & that Pompeius held himself his son in law, there was never evil will nor quarrels between them: but after that Pompeius was divorced from the house of Cesar, hatred, envy, & enmities engendered between them: in such sort that they contended in such & so cruel wars, that Pompeius against his will lost his head, & also julius Cesar shortened his life. When those that dwelled in Rome ravished & rob the daughters of the Sabines, if after they had not changed their counsel, & of thieves to become husbands, without doubt the Romans had been all destroyed: for the Sabines had made an oath to adventure both their goods and their lives, for to revenge the injuries done unto them, their daughters, and wives: but by the means of marriage, they were conferred in great amity and love. For the Romans received in marriage the daughters of the Sabines whom before they had ravished. Greater enmity there cannot be, then that of god towards men, through the sin of Adam: notwithstanding there never was, nor never shallbe greater friendship than that, which was made by the godly marriage: and for greater authority to confirm marriage, the son of god would that his mother should be married, and afterward he himself was present at a marriage, where he turned the water into wine, though now a days the evil married men do turn the wine into water. He doth not speak here of religious persons, nor men of the Church, neither of those which are closed in devout places: for those (fleeing the occasions of the world, and choosing the ways less dangerous) have offered their souls to god, & with their bodies have done him acceptable sacrifices: For there is difference between the religion of Christ, and the sinful synagogue of the jews: for they offered kids and muttons, but here are not offered but tears and sighs. Leaving therefore all those secrets apart, which men ought to leave to God: I say and affirm, that it is a holy and commendable counsel, to use his profit with the Sacrament of marriage: the which though it be taken of all voluntaryly, yet Princes & great lords ought to take it necessarily. For the prince that hath no wife nor children shall have in his realm, much grudging and displeasure. plutarch in the book he made of marriage saith, that amongst the Lidiens there was a law well observed and kept, that of necessity their kings and governors should be married: & they had such respect to this thing, and were so circumspect in this matter, that if a prince died and left his heir an infant, they would not suffer him to govern the realm until he were married. And they greatly lamented the day of the departing of their Queen out of this life: for with her death, the government ceased, the royal authority remained void, and the common wealth with out government, so long time as the king deferred to take another wife: & so they were some times, without king, or government. For princes are, or aught to be, the mirror and example of all, to live honest, and temperate, the which cannot welbe done unless they be married, or that they see themselves to be conquerors of the flesh, & being so they are satisfied: but if they be not married and the flesh doth assault them, than they live immediately conquered. Wherefore of necessity they must go by their neighbour's houses, or else by some other dishonest places scattered abroad, to the reproach and dishonour of them and their kindreds: and oftentimes to the great peril and danger of their parsons.   

¶ Of sundry and diverse laws which the ancients had in contracting matrimony, not only in the choice of women, but also in the manner of celebrating marriage. Cap. iii.  
IN all nations, and in all the Realms of the world, marriage hath always been accepted, and marvelously commended: for other wise the world had not been peopled, nor yet the number of men multiplied.  
The ancients never disagreed one from another, in the approbation and acception of marriage: but there was amongst them great difference, & strife, upon the contracts, ceremonies, and usages of the same. For they used as much difference in contracting matrimony, and choosing their wives: as these Epicures do desire, the variety of sundry delicate meats. The divine Plato in his book he made of the common wealth, did council that all things should be common, and that not only in brute beasts, in movables, and heritage's, but also that women should be comen: for he said, that if these two words, thine, and mine, were abolished and out of use, there should not be debates, nor quarrels in this world. They call Plato divine, for many good things which he spoke: but now they may call him worldly, for the council profane which he gave. I can not tell what beast lines it may be called, nor what greater rewdenes may be thought, that the apparel should be proper, and the wives comen. The brute beast doth not know that which came out of her belly, longer than it sucketh of her breasts. And in this sort it would chance to men, yea and worse to, if women were comen in the common wealth. For though one should know the mother, which hath borne him: he should not know the father that hath begotten him. The Tharentines (which were well renowned amongst the ancients, and not a little feared of the Romans) had in their city of Tharente a law and custom, to marry themselves with a legitimate wife, and to beget children: but besides her a man might yet chose two others for his secret pleasures. Spartianus said that the Emperor Hellus Verus, as touching women, was very dissolute: and since his wife was young and fair, and that she did complain of him because he led no honest life with her, he spoke these words unto her. My wife, thou haste no cause to complain of me, since I remain with thee until such time as thou art quick with child: For the residue of the time, we husbands have licence and privilege to seek our pastimes with other women. For this name of a wife, containeth in it honour: but for the residue, it is a grievous burden and painful office. The like matter came to Ptolemies king of Egypt, of whom the queen his wife did greatly complain. Admit that all the Greeks have been esteemed to be very wise, amongst all those the Athenians were esteemed of most excellent virtue: for the sages that governed the common wealth, remained in Athens with the philosophers which taught the sciences. The sages of Athens ordained, that all the neighbours and inhabitants might keep two lawful wives, & furthermore upon pain of grievous punishments did command, that none should presume, nor be so hardy to maintain any concubine: for they said, when men haunt the company of light women, commonly they misuse their lawful wives. As plutarch saith in his politics, the cause why the Greeks made this law was, considering that man could not, nor ought not to live without the company of a woman: and therefore they would that man should marry with two wives. For if the one were diseased and lay in, yet the other might serve in bed, wait at the table, and do other business in the house. Those of Athens had an other great respect and consideration to make this law, which was this, that if it chanced the one to be barren, the other should bring forth children in the common wealth: and in such case she that brought forth children, should be esteemed for masters: and the other that was barren, should be taken for a servant. When this law was made, Socrates was married with Xantippa, and to accomplish the law, he took an other called Mitra, which was the daughter of the philosopher Aristides: and sith those two women had great quarrels, & debates together, and that thereby they slandered their neighbours, Socrates said unto them. My wives, you see right well that my eyes are hollow, my legs are withered, my hands are wrinkled, my head is bald, the body is little, and the hears are white: why do ye then that are so fair, stand in contention and strife for me that am so deformed? though Socrates said these words (as it were in jest) yet such words were occasion, that the quarrels and strifes between them ceased. The Lacedæmonians (that in time of peace and war, were always contrary to the Athenians) observed it for an inviolate law, not that one man should marry with two wives, but that one woman should marry with two husbands: and the reason was, that when one husband should go to the wars, the other should tarry at home. For they said, that a man in no wise should agree to leave his wife alone in the common wealth. Pliny writing an Epistle to his friend Locratius, and saint Hyerome writing to a friere called Rusticus saith, that the Athenians did use to marry the brethren with the sisters: but they did not permit the Aunts to marry with their nephews, neither the uncles with their neices. For they said, that brothers and sisters to mary togethers, was to mary with their semblable: but for uncles to mary nieces, and aunts with nephews, was as of fathers to daughters, & of mothers to sons. Melciades which was a man of great renown amongst the Grecians, had a son called Cymonius who was married to his sister called Pinicea, and being demanded of one why he took his sister in marriage, he answered: my sister is fair, sage, rich, and made to my appetite, and her father and mine did recommaund her unto me, and since by the commandment of the Gods a man ought to accomplish the behests and requests of fathers: I have determined (since nature hath given her me for my sister) willingly to take her for my lawful wife. Diodorus Siculus saith, that before the Egyptians received any laws, every man had as many wives as he would: and this was at the liberty of both parties, for as much as if she would go, she went liberally, and forsook the man: and likewise he left her, when she displeased him. For they said that it was impossible for men and women to live long togethers, without much trouble, contentions, and brawls. Diodorus Siculus said one thing, speaking of this matter, that I never red in any book, nor heard of the ancients paste, which was that amongst the Egyptians there was no difference in children: for they accounted them all legitimate, though they were children of slaves. For they said, that the principal doer of the generation was the father, and not the mother, and that therefore the children which were borne among them, took only the flesh of the mother, but they did inherit the honour and dignity of the part of the father. julius Caesar in his commentaries saith, that (in great Britain, called now England) the Britons had an use, that one woman was married unto five men, the which beastliness is not red to have been in any nation of times passed: for if it be slander for one man to have divers wives, why should it not also be a slanderoous and shameful thing, for one woman to have many husbands. The noble and virtuous women ought to be married for two causes. The first to the end God should give them children, and benediction, to whom they may leave their goods, and their memory. The second, to th'end they should live every one in their own house, accompanied and honoured with their husbands. For otherwise, I say for a truth, that the woman that is not contented and satisfied with her own proper husband, will not be contented nor satisfied with all men in the world. plutarch in his apotheames sayeth, that the Cymbres did use to marry with their proper & natural daughters: the which custom was taken from them by the Consul Marius, after that he did overcome them in Germany, and that of them he had triumphed at Rome. For the child which was borne of such marriage, was son of the daughter of one sole father, and was son and brother of one only mother, and they were also cousins, nephews, and brother of one only father & brother. Truly such custom proceedeth rather of wild beasts, then of reasonable creatures: for many or the more part of brute beasts (after the females have brought forth males) within one year after they do accompany with their dams which brought them forth. Strabo in the situation of the world, and Seneca in an Epistle say, that the Lydes and the Armenians had a custom, to send their daughters to the Rivers and havens of the sea to get their marriages, selling their own bodies to strangers: so that those which would marry were first forced to sell their virginity. The Romans (which in all their affairs and businesses were more sage and modest, than other nations) used much circumspection in all their marriages: For they kept it as an ancient law, and use accustomed, that every Roman should marry with one woman, and no more. For even as to keep two wives among the Christians, is a great conscience; so was it deemed amongst the Romans much infamy.  
Amongst the ancient and renowned orators of Rome, one was called Metellus Numidicus, the which one day making his oration to the Senate, said these words. Worthy Senators, I let you understand, that I have greatly studied what the counsels should be, that I ought to give ye touching marriage: For the counsel rash and sudden, oftentimes is not profitable. I do not persuade you at all to marry, neither do say that ye shall not marry: but it is true, that if ye can live without a woman, ye shall be free from many troubles. But what shall we do, O ye Romans, since that nature hath made us such, that to keep women it is a great trouble: and to live without them, it is more danger. I dare say (if in this case my opinion might be accepted) that it should not be evil done to resist the lust, since it cometh by fits: and not to take wives, which are continual troubles. These were the words, which Metellus Numidicus spoke, the which were not very acceptable, nor pleasant to the father's being in the Senate: for they would not that he should have spoken such words against marriage. For there is no estate in this life, wherein fortune showeth her force more: then in this state of matrimony. A man may prove them in this sort, that if the fashions and usages of the ancients were diverse, as concerning ordinance: truly there was no less contrariety in their contracts, and ceremonies. Boccase the Florentine, in a book that he made of the marriages of the ancients, reciteth many and sundry customs that they used in making the marriages, whereof he telleth some, not for to allow, nor maintain them: but to reprove and condemn them. For the writers did never write the vices of some, but only to make the virtues of others more clearly to be known. The Cymbres had a custom that when they would marry (after the marriage was now agreed upon) he that was made sure, should pair his nails, and send them to his wife that should be: and she in like sort sent hers unto him. And then when she of him, and he of her had received the nails the one of the other, they took themselves married for ever: and did afterwards live together as man and wife. The Theutonians had a ceremony, that the man that was sure, rounded the here of her to whom he was made sure, and she did the like unto him: and when the one suffered the other to do so, immediately they celebrated marriage. The Armenians had a law, that the bridegroom should pinch the right ear of the bride, and the bride should likewise pinch the left ear of the bridegroom: and then they took themselves married for ever. The Elamites had a custom, that both parties which were made sure, pricked one the others little finger until they bled: the which blood they did suck naturally, and this done they were married. The Numidians used, that the bridegroom and the bride should gather together a piece of earth, and with their spit tell they tempered it, and therewith the one anointed the forehead of the other: so that the marriage between them, was to anoint the one and the other with a little clay. When those of Dace would be married, the bridegroom and the bride, each one by themselves, were brought in chariots, the one meeting the other: and when they came togethers, the bridegroom gave a new name to the bride, and she likewise to him, and from that time forward they lived as in lawful matrimony. When those of Hungary would mary, the one sent unto the other a familiar god made of silver, whom they called Lares, and when they had received the God of each other, the marriage was finished, and they lived as man and wife. The Siconians had a custom and law, that when they should marry, the one sent to the other a shoe: and that received of both, they agreed to the marriage. The Tharentins had a custom, that when they did marry, they set themselves at the table to eat, and the one did feed the other: so that if by mishap the one should chance to feed himself, that marriage was not esteemed for constant, nor good. The Scythes had a custom, and they kept it as a law, that when men and women should marry, as now they touch the hands the one of the other: so did they them touch with their feet, afterwards they set together their knees, than they touched with their hands, and then they set their buttocks together, and so their heads, and in the end they embraced the one the other. All these ceremonies done, the marriages were assured, and sufficiently confirmed: and so we might say of many others, but to avoid tediousness we will follow our matter.   

¶ How Princesses and great Ladies ought to love their husbands, and that love ought not by conjurations, and enchantments to be procured: but by wisdom, honesty, and virtue desired. Cap. iiii.  
ALl men that desire to achieve and obtain any worthy thing in this life, invent and search many means to come thereunto: for men by good provision and circumspection compass sundry things, which otherwise they should lose, unless they would by force take them. As in the marriages of our christian religion, wherein we do not suffer, that the man & the wife be parents, and nigh of blood: leaving a part that the one is a man, and the other a woman, that the one is strong, & the other weak: oft times it chanceth, that there is between the man and the wife more contrariety in conditions, than diversity in lineage. I would say therefore (for healthful counsel, & necessary advice) to the great dames, & princesses, & to all other wives, since they must needs eat and drink with their husbands, that they must sleep, treat, be conversant, & talk, & finally live & die with their husbands, that they should use much diligence to bear with their conditions: for to say the troth, the wife ought in all things to follow the conditions of her husband, & the husband in some thing to bear with the conditions of his wife. So that she by her patience ought to suffer the imperf●ctions of him, and he likewise by his wisdom ought to dissemble the importunities of her: and in such sort they ought to agree & love togethers, that all those of the common wealth should rejoice at their behaviours. For married men, which are quarrelers & seditious persons, the neighbours in stead of weeping & wailing for the deprivation of their life, demand gifts the one of the other for bringing news of their 〈◊〉 ●●mit that the husband be covetous, & unthrifty, that he be deformed in his body, that he be rude in condition, base of lineage, rash in his speech, in adversities fearful, in prosperities careless, in the end being (as he is) husband, we can not deny but in the house he ought to be chief master. For the which it is also necessary, that we give now unto the wives some healthful counsel, whereby they may bear and suffer quietly such great troubles. For at this day there is no husband so loving, nor so virtuous, in whom the wife shall not find some evil conditions. First of all wives ought to endeavour themselves to love their husbands unfeignedly, if they desire their husbands should love them without dissimulation: for as we see by experience, marriage is seldom broken through poverty, nor yet continued with riches. For the evil married folks through debate, and strife, be separated in on week, where as by good and true love they are preserved all the days of their life. To eat dry and unsavoury meats, they use to take salt for to amend it. I mean, that the burdens of matrimony are many, and troublesome, the which all with love only may be endured. For as Plato the divine philosopher sayeth, one thing ought not to be called more painful than an other, for the labour we thereunto employ: but for the great or small love that thereunto we have. Though some sundry things be troublesome and tedious, yet when with love it is begun, it is easily followed, and joyfully achieved: for that travail is nothing noisome, where love is the mediator. I know right well and do confess that the counsel which I give to women is sharp, that is: for an honest woman to love a dissolute man, for a sage wife to love a foolish husband, for a virtuous wife, to love a vicious husband. For as daily experience showeth, there are some men of so foolish conditions, & other women of so noble conversation, that by reason apparent they ought to take them for mistresses, rather than they should accept them for husbands. Although this, in some particular cases is true, I say and affirm, that generally all women are bound to love their husbands, since that willingly, and not by compulsion they were not enforced to take them: for in like manner, if the marriage pleased not the woman, she hath not so much cause to complain of her husband for ask her: as she hath reason to complain of her own self that accepted him. For the misfortunes that by our folly do chance, though we have cause to lament them, we ought also to have reason to dissemble them. Be the man never so wild and evil brought up, it is impossible, if the wife love him, but he must needs love her again. And though perchance he can not force his evil condition to love her, yet at the least he shall have no occasion to hate her. The which ought not to be little esteemed, for there are many wives not only of the Plebeians, but also of the noble dames, that could be content to forgive their husbands all the pleasure they should do them, and also all the love that they ought to show: if they would refrain their tongues from speaking injurious words, and keep their hands from dealing loathsome stripes. We have many notable examples in histories, of many noble and stout Ladies (as well Greeks as Romans) which after they were married, had so great faithfulness, and bore such loyalty to their husbands: that they not only followed them in their travails, but also delivered them in their dangers. plutarch in the book of noble women declareth, that the Lacedæmonians, keeping many nobles of the Athenians prisoners (which at that time were their cruel and mortal enemies) and being judged to die: their wives concluded to go to the prison where they lay, and in the end they obtained of the Jailor thereof, that they might go in, and talk with their husbands: for in deed the tears were many that before them were shed, & the gifts were not few which unto them were offered. The wives therefore entering into the prison did not only change their apparel with their husbands, but also the liberty of their persons: for they went out as women, and the women in their steads remained there as men. And when they brought out these innocent wives from prison, to execute justice, supposing they were men, the Lacedæmonians understanding the faithfulness of the women, determined that they should not only be pardoned: but also that they should be greatly rewarded, and honoured, for the good examples of other women to whom they were married. The ancient and great renowned Panthea, when news was brought her that her husband was dead in the battle, she her own self determined to go seek him out, with hope that as yet he was not utterly dead: and finding him dead, with the blood of him she washed all her body, and likewise her face, striking with a knife herself to the heart, and embracing her husband she yielded up the ghost, & so togethers they were carried to the grave. Porcia, the daughter of Marcus Porcia the great, when she heard that her husband Brutus was taken and slain, she felt for that news so great sorrow, that all her friends seeing her take the matter so grievously, hid from her all Irone where with she might kill herself: and did labour to keep and preserve her from dangers, wherein she might fall and shorten her life. For she was so excellent a Roman, and so necessary to the common wealth, that if they had lamented the death of Brutus her husband, with tears of their eyes: they ought to bewail the loss of his wife Porcia, with drops of blood in their hearts. Porcia therefore feeling in herself a woeful and afflicted heart, for the death of her entirely beloved husband, to declare that that which she did was not feigned, nor for to please the people, but to satisfy her great & marvelous love: since she found neither sword nor knife to kill herself, nor cord to hang herself, neither well to drown her in, she went to the fire, and with as great pleasure did eat the hot fiery coals, as an other would have eaten any delicate meats. We may say that such kind of death was very strange and new, which the Roman found to increase, augment, and manifest her love: Yet we can not deny, but that she wan to the posterity of her name a perpetual memory. For as a noble dame she would quench with coals of fire her burning heart, that inflamed was with fiery brands of love. As Diodorus Siculus saith, it was a law & custom amongst the Lydians, to marry themselves with many wives: and when by chance their husbands died, the wives which they had met together, and fought in some plain place. And the women which remained only alive, and of the conflict had the victory, cast themselves into the grave of their husband: so that those women then fought for to die, as men now fight for to live.   

¶ Of the revenge a woman of Grece took of him that had killed her husband, in hope to have her in marriage. Cap. v.  
plutarch in the book that he made of the noble and worthy women, declareth a thing worthy of rehearsal, and to be had in memory.  
In the city of Galacia were two renowned citizens, whose names were, Sinatus & Sinoris, which were by blood cousins, & in familiarity friends: and for the love of a Greeks daughter, being very noble, beautiful, and exceeding gracious, they both strived to have her in marriage, and for to attain to their desires, they both served her, they both followed her, they both loved her, and for her both of them desired to die. For the dart of love, is as a stroke with a clod of earth: the which being thrown amongst a company, doth hurt the one, and blind the others. And as the fatal destinees had ordained it. Sinatus served this lady called Camma in such sort, that in the end he obtained her in marriage for his lawful wife: which thing when Sinoris perceived, he was ashamed of his doings, & was also wounded in his heart. For he lost not only that, which of so long time he had sought, loved, and served: but also the hope to attain to that, which chief in his life he desired. Sinatus therefore seeing that his wife Camma was noble, meek, gracious, fair, and loving, and that in all things she was comely and well taught: decreed to offer her to the goddess Diana, to the end that she would preserve her from peril, and keep her from infamy. Truly we cannot reprove the knight Sinatus for that he did, nor we ought to note him for rash in his counsel: for he saw that his wife was very fair, and therefore much desired. For with great difficulty that is kept, which of many is desired. Though Camma was now married, and that she was in the protection of the goddess Diana: yet notwithstanding her old friend Sinoris died for her sake, and by all means possible he served her, continually he importuned her, daily he followed her, & hourly he required her. And all this he did, upon certain hope he had, that such diligent service should suffice to make her change her sacred mind: and as she had chosen Sinatus for her husband openly, so he thought she should take him for her friend secretly. For many women are as men without taste through sickness, the which eat more of that that is hurtful and forbidden: then of that which is healthsome, and commanded. Not without a cause Camma was greatly renowned throughout all Galatia for her beauty: and much more among the virtuous esteemed for her honesty. The which evidently in this was seen, that after she was married, Sinoris could never cause her to receive any jewel, or other gift, nor that she would hear him speak any word, nor that she would show herself in the window, either to him, or to any other, to the end to be seen in the face. For it is not sufficient for Ladies to be pure good: but also to give no occasion for men to judge (that if they durst) they would be evil. As it is true in deed, that the heart which is entangled with love, dare boldly adventure himself in many kind of dangers, to accomplish that which he desired: so Sinoris seeing that with fair words he could not flatter her, nor with any gifts win her, determined to kill Sinatus her husband, upon hope that when she should be widow, he might easily obtain her in matrimony. For he thought although Camma was not evil, it was not for that she wanted desire to do it: but because she had no commodious place to accomplish it. And to be short, Sinoris would needs execute and bring to effect his devilish and damnable intent: so that soon after he vylie slew his said companion Sinatus. After whose death the noble lady Camma was of Sinoris greatly desired, and by his parents much importuned, that she would condescend to take and marry him, and that she would forgive him the death of her husband Sinatus, which then was buried. And as she was in all her doings such a princely woman, she imagened with herself, that under the pretence of marriage, she might have opportunity to accomplish her desires: wherefore she answered unto his parents, that she did accept their counsel, and said to Sinoris that she did choose him for her husband, speaking these words more for to comfort him, then with intent to pardon him. And as amongst those of Galatia there was a custom, that the new married folks should eat togethers in one dish, and drink in one cup: the day that the marriage was celebrated, Camma determined to prepare a cup with poison, and also a lute, wherewith she began to play, and sing with her proper voice before the goddess Diana in this manner.  

TO thee Diana, whose endless reign doth stretch  
Above the bounds, of all the heavenly rout  
And eke whose aid, with royal hand to reach  
Chief of all gods, is most proclaimed out.   

I swear, and with unspotted faith protest  
That though till now, I have reserved my breath  
For no intent it was, but thus distressed  
With waylefull end, to wreak Senatus death.   

¶ And if in mind, I had not thus decreed  
Whereto should I, my pensive days have spent  
With longer dewle? for that forepast deed  
Whose oft record, new sorrows still hath bend.   

But oh since him, their kindled spite hath slain  
With tender love, whom I have weighed so dear  
Since he by fate, is rest from fortunes rain  
For whose decay, I dredelesse perish here:   

Since him by whom, my only life I led  
Through wretched hands, the gaping earth now have  
Ought I by wish, to live in any stedd  
But closed with him, together in the grave?   

O bright Diana, since senseless him I see  
And makeles I, here to remain alone,  
Since he is graude, where greedy worms now be  
And I survive, surmounted with my fone,   

Since he is priest, with lumps of wretched soil  
And I thus charged, with flame of frozen care:  
Thou knowest Diana, how hard with restless toil  
Of hoot abhorring mind, my life I spare.   

For how can this, unquiet breast resarue  
The fainting breath, that strives to draw his last  
Since that even then, my dying heart did starve  
When my dead fere, in swallowing earth was cast.   

The first black day, my husband slept in grave  
By cruel sword, my life I thought to spend  
And since a thousand times, I sought to have  
A stretching cord, my sorrows wrath to end.   

And if till now, to waste my pining days,  
I have deferred, by slaughter of my hand  
It was but lo, a fit cause to raise  
Whereon his sharp revenge, might justly stand.   

Now since I may in full sufficing wise  
Redeem his breath, (if wayward will would let)  
More deep offence, by not revenge might rise  
Then Sinoris erst, by guiltless blood did get.   

Thee therefore mighty jove, I justly crave  
And eke thy daughter chaste, in thankful sort  
That lo the offering, which of myself ye have  
Ye will vouchsafe, into your heavenly fort.   

Since Sinatus, with soon inflamed eyes  
Amongst the Achaean routs, me chief ●ewed  
And eke amidst, the press of Greeks likewise  
Chose for his fere, when sweetly he had sewed.   

Since at my will, the froth of wasting wealth  
With gladsome mind, he trained was to spend  
Since that his youth, which slippeth lo by stealth  
To wait on me he, freely did commend.   

Since he such heaps, of lingering harms did waste  
Ay to content, my wanton youthly will  
And that his breath, to fade did pass so fast  
To glut their thrust, that thus his blood did spill.   

Though great the duty be, which that I own  
Unto his graved ghost, and ●indred mould  
Yet lo me seams, my duty well I show  
Performing that, my feeble power could.   

For since for me, untwined was his thread  
Of guiltless life, that aught to purchase breath  
Can reasons doom conclude, I ought to dread  
For his decay, to climb the steps of death.   

In wretched earth, my father graved lies  
My dear mother, hath run her raze of life  
The pride of love, no more can daunt mine eyes  
My wasted goods, are shrunk by fortune's strife.   

My honours soon, eclipsed is by fate  
My young delight, is lo fordone by chance  
My broken life, these passed haps so hate  
As can my graved heart, no more advance.   

And now remains, to duty with my fere  
No more but refuse lo, my irksome life  
With willing mind, followed eke with drere  
Which I resign, as sitteth for a wife.   

And thou Sinoris, which junos' yoke dost crave  
To press my corpse, to feed thy liking lust  
The rout of Homer's gods, the grant to have  
In stead of royal feats, a throne of dust.   

In change of costly robes, and rich array  
A simple winding sheet, they deign the give  
And eke in stead, of honest wedlocks stay  
They sing thy dirge, and not vouchsafe the live.   

In place of hymen's high unfiled bed  
They lay thee up, in closure of thy grave.  
In steed with precious meats, for to be fed  
They make the worms, for fit pray thee have   

In steed of song, and musics tuned sown  
They wait on thee, with loud lamenting voice  
In change of joyful life, and high renown  
Thy cruel death, may spread with wretched noise.   

For you, great gods, that stalled be on high  
Should not be just, ne yet such titles claim  
Unless this wretch, ye ruthless cause to die  
That liveth now, to slander of your name.   

And thou Diana, that haunted courts dost shun  
Know'st, with what great delight, this life I leave  
And when the race, of spending breath is done  
Will pierce the soil, that did my fere receive.   

¶ And if perchance, the paled ghosts despise  
Such fatal fine, with grudge of thankeles mind  
Yet at the least, the shamefast living eyes  
Shall have a glass, rare wisely gifts to find  
Wherein I will, that Lucre's sect shall gaze  
But none that live, like Helen's line in blaze.   
AND when the prayer was ended, that this fair and virtuous Camma made, she drank, and gave to drink to Sinoris of this cup of poison, who thought to drink no other but good wine and water: and the case was such, that he died at noon days, and she likewise in the evening after. And truly her death of all Grece, with as great sorrow was lamented: as her life of all men was desired. Princesses and great Ladies, may most evidently perceive by the examples herein contained, how honest and honourable it is for them to love, and endeavour themselves to be beloved of their husbands: and that not only in their life, but also after their death. For the wife to serve her husband in his life, seemeth oft times to proceed of fear: but to love and honour him in his grave, proceedeth of love. Princesses and great Ladies ought not to do that, which many other women of the common people do, that is to weet, to seek some drinks and invent some shameful sorceries to be beloved of their husbands: for albeit it is a great burden of conscience, and lack of shame in like manner to use such superstitions, yet it should be a thing to unjust and very slanderous, that for to be beloved of their husbands, they should procure to be hated of God. Truly to love, to serve, and content God, it is not hurtful to the woman, for that she should be the better beloved of her husband: but yet God hath suffered, and doth permit oftentimes, that the women being feeble, deformed poor, and negligent, should be better beloved of their husbands, than the diligent, fair, and rich. And this is not for the services they do to their husbands, but for the good intention they have to serve, & love God, which showeth them this especial favour: for otherwise God doth not suffer, that he being with her displeased, she should live with her husband contented. If women would take this council that I give them in this case, I will teach them furthermore a notable enchantment, to obtain the love of their husbands, which is: that they be quiet, meek, patient, solitary, and honest, with which five herbs they may make a confection, the which neither seen nor tasted of their husbands, shall not only cause them to be beloved, but also honoured. For women ought to know that for their beauty they are desired: but for their virtue only they are beloved.   

¶ That Princesses and great Ladies ought to be obedient to their husbands, and that it is a great shame to the husband, that his wife should command him. Cap. vi.  
MAny ancient historiographers travailed greatly, and consumed long time in writing, to declare what authority the man ought to have over the woman, and what servitude the woman oweth to the man: and some for to advance the dignity of the man, and others to excuse the frailty of the woman, alleged such vain things, that it had been more honour for them not to have written at all, then in such sort as they did. For it is not possible but the writers should err, which write not as reason teacheth, but rather as their fantasy leadeth. Those that defend the frailty of the women said, that the woman hath a body as a man, she hath a soul as a man, she hath reason as a man, dieth as a man, and was as necessary for generation as man, she liveth as a man, and therefore they thought it not meet that she should be more subject to man, than man to her: for it is not reason that that which nature hath made free, should by any laws of man be made bond. They said furthermore, that God created not the creators, but to augment the generation of mankind, and that in this case the woman was more necessary than the man: for the man engendereth without pain or travail, but the woman is delivered with peril and danger, and with pain and travail nourisheth up the child. Wherefore it seemeth great unkindness and cruelty, that the women (which are delivered with peril, and danger of their lives, and bring up their children with labour, and toil of their bodies) should be used of their husbands as slaves. They said further, that men are those that curse, that move seditions, that make wars, that maintain enmity, that wear weapons, that shed man's blood, and commit sundry other mischiefs, which the women do not: but in stead of killing men, shedding blood, and other notorious evils that men do, they employ themselves to increase men. And since it is so, than women, rather than men, ought to have dominion, and command in the common wealth: for women increase the common wealth, and men diminish it. For neither divine nor human law commandeth, that the foolish man should be free, and govern: and that the wise woman should be bond, and serve. Those of Achaia affirmed this opinion, and groundeth themselves upon this reason, and observed it as a custom: that the husbands should obey, and the wives command. And so they did, as plutarch sayeth in the book of consolation: for the husband swept and made clean the house, made the bed, washed the buck, covered the table, dressed the dinner, and went for water. And of the contrary part, his wife governed the goods, answered the affairs, kept the money, & if she were angry, she gave him not only foul words: but also oft times laid her hands on him, to revenge her anger. And hereof came this ancient proverb, the which of many is red, and of few understanded: that is to weet, Vita Achaiae, the life of an Achaean. When in Rome the husband suffered to be ruled & commanded of his wife, the neighbours would say unto him in manner of a reproach, Vita Achaiae: which is as much as if a man would say, go, go, as thou art, since thou livest after the law of Achaia, where men have so little discretion, that they suffer themselves to be governed (be it well or evil) of their wives, and that every woman commandeth her husband. Pliny in an epistle that he wrote, reproved greatly his friend Fabatus, for that he kept in his house a wife, the which in all his doings ruled and commanded him: wherein he told him that he durst do nothing, without her commandment. And to make the matter to seem more heinous, in the latter end of his epistle he said these words, Me valde poenitet quod tu solus Rome poles vita Achaiae: which is, it grieveth me much that thou alone in Rome shouldest lead the life of one of Achaia. julius Capitolinus saith, that Antonius Caracalla, being in love with a fair Lady of Persia, and seeing that he could not enjoy her nor obtain his desire, promised to marry her according to the law of Achaia: and truly she showed herself more wise in her answer, than he did in his demand, telling him that she would not, nor might not mary, for because she had promised herself to the goddess Vesta, and that she had rather be a servant of the gods, than a mistress of men. The Parthes' had a law contrary to them, and likewise those of Thrace, the which so little esteemed women, that their husbands used them none otherwise then like servants.  
And in this case men had so great liberty, or to say better, lightness: that after a woman had borne and brought forth twelve children, the children remained in the house, and the husbands sold their wives to them that would give most, or else they changed them for others that were more young.  
And the children agreed to the selling of their own mother, to th'intent that their father might refresh himself with another that was more young: and the old and barren woman, should either be buried quick, or else serve as a slave. Dionysius Halicarnaseus saith, that the Lides had a law, and the Numidians in like manner, that the woman should command things without the house, and the man should provide for those that were within. But according to my poor judgement, I cannot tell how this law was kept, nor how they could fulfil it, for by reason the wife should not go out of the house but very little, and therefore me thinketh that they ought not to command any thing abroad, nor the husband should enter into another man's house, for to command there. Ligurgus in the laws that he gave to the Lacedæmonians saith, that the husbands should provide abroad, see all things necessary for the house, and that the wives should keep and dipose them within: so that this good philosopher divided the travail between the man and the woman, but yet notwithstanding he reserved the rule and authority to the man For to say the truth, it is a monstruous thing that the wife should command the husband in his house. Under our Christian religion there is neither divine, nor humane laws, but will prefer man above all other things: and though some philosophers would dispute to the contrary, & that many men would have followed them, yet me thinketh that a man should not praise nor commend them for their opinions. For there can be nothing more vain nor light, then by man's law to give that authority to woman, which by nature is denied her.  
We see by experience that women of nature are all weak, frail, fearful, and tender: and finally in matters of weight not very wise. Then if matters of government require not only science & experience, but also strength & courage to enterprise doubtful things, wisdom for to know them, force to execute them, diligence for to follow them, patience to suffer them, means to endure them, and above all great strength and hope to compass them: why then will they take from man the government, in whom all these things abound, and give it to the woman, in whom all these these thyngea do want? The end why I speak these things before, is to require, to counsel, to admonish, and to persuade Princesses, and great Ladies, that they think it spoken (if they willbe happy in marriage) to th'end they should be obedient to their husbands: for speaking the truth, in that house where the wife commandeth the husband, we may call her a masculine woman, and him a feminine man. Many women are deceived, in thinking that in commanding their husbands they live more honourably and be better esteemed: but truly it is not so, for all those that see, and perceive it, accounteth the woman for vain, and the men in like manner for foolish. I know, and can tell right well, that there are some husbands so excessive in spending, and so wanton in living, that it were not only good that their wives should rule them, but also chastise them, but yet in the end I say, that notwithstanding all this is better and more tolerable that all the goods be lost, then between them any malice, hate or dissension should ●yse. If a woman's children die, she may bring forth others, if she lose her goods, she may get them again, if her servants goeth from her, she may find others, if she see herself sad, God may comfort her, if she be sick, she may be healed, but if she be at debate with her husband, I cannot tell what she shall do: for the wife that forsaketh the friendship of her husband, giveth to all men occasion to speak of her folly. Sith women naturally are all jealous, and that of jealousy proceedeth suspicion, I counsel them, if they will not that their husbands commit a fault, that they do not anger nor chafe them: for if in gage she have his heart, no other woman shall have his body, because from that which he would not abstain for conscience, he will refrain for shame. Oft times the husbands come home chafed, troubled, wrathful, angry, and vexed: and then women ought to take heed that they overthwart them not, for if they do it cannot be otherwise, but that they shall have either evil words with his tongue, or else suffer sore blows with his fists. Truly it is not meet, neither in any case profitable, that Princesses & great dames should overthwart their husbands with froward words, nor that they should use to strive against them, but rather that the wife in all cases should be obedient, and loving to her husband: for it may happen and daily it doth chance, that they begin to argue in jest, and afterward they end in earnest. The woman which is sage, wise, and virtuous, aught to weigh with herself, that either her husband hath occasion so to taunt her, or else peradventure he doth it of a wil I say that in this case if he have occasion, she ought to suffer and endure him: if he doth it of will, she ought to dissemble with him. For otherwise, it might so take her in the head, that she would burden him with many evil words: so that he beginning then the debate should remain excused, and she being without fault at the beginning, might in the end be condemned.  
There is nothing wherein a woman showeth her wisdom more, then to endure a rash husband. A woman in nothing showeth her sage●es more, then to dissemble with a foolish husband. Her honesty in nothing can be showed more, then in suffering a wanton husband. She can show her worthiness in nothing so much, as in bearing with an unworthy husband. I mean, though she understood that her husband hath little, that he knoweth little, and that he were worth little: yet she should make men believe that he hath much, that he knoweth enough, and can do much. For all the honour which she shall give so to her husband, shall wholly again redound on herself. It is an evil thing (me thinketh) that women should be so bold to speak against their husbands: for they can not say evil of them, but that they must witness dishonour of themselves. For if her husband be a drunkard, they will say that she is a drunkards wife, and if he be a fool, that she is the wife of a fool, and what more: when the husband shall come to amend, and to moderate himself, the woman in the end shallbe blamed. For if she burden him with evil words, he acquyteth her with sharp stripes. But if she toucheth his honour, it may chance he taketh away her life. If perhaps the husband should command the wife any unjust thing, I would be of opinion that she should obey him, but not resist him: and after that his raging fury were passed, & his choler qualyfied, than she might say unto him, that he was very rash to command, and she very wise to obey. For if she be quick of tongue, to answer to every word that he shall speak, without doubt they will not live one day in concord. Reading therefore that which I have red, hearing that which I have heard, and having seen also that I have seen, I would counsel women that they should not presume to command their husbands: and I would admonish husbands that they would not suffer their wives to rule them. For in doing the contrary, it is none otherwise, them to eat with the feet and travail with the hands, to go with the fingers, and to feed themselves with their tooes. My mind is not here to speak against the woman, nor against the Princesses and great Ladies, which of their patrimony and heritage possess many Towns, and Cities: for to such I will not take away the services, which are due unto them by their subjects, but I do persuade them to the obedience which they ought to have to their husbands. It is no marvel though that women of mean estate have some times quarreled with their husbands: for they have small riches to lose, and less honour to adventure, than the Princesses and great Dames have, the which since they do adventure to command many, why will they not humble themselves to obey one? speaking with due reverence, It is for abundance of folly, and want of wisdom, that a woman should have presumption to govern a whole Realm, and that she hath not grace to obey one husband. Seneca in a Tragedy saith, that in the time of the war of Mithridates, it chanced in Rome that the consuls sent to the old knights, ad commanded that they should all be in a readiness to go with Silla the Consul into the wars. And it happened that when they came into one's house in Rome to publish the edict, to warn him to be ready they found not the husband but the wife, who made answer and said: that her husband ought not nor could not go to the wars, and though he would he should not, neither would she give him licence. For he was an old and ancient knight, and therefore he ought to be exempted from the wars.  
With this answer, those that herd it were greatly abashed, & the whole senate no less offended: wherefore they commanded that the husband should be banished Rome, and the wife to be carried to the prison Mamortine, not for that he excused himself for going to the wars: but because she commanded her husband, and because he suffered himself to be commanded of her. The Senate did this to that end, that from that time forwards no woman should presume or contend with her husband: and that no husband should give his wife any occasion to be so bold with him.   

¶ That women, and especially Princesses and great Ladies should be very circumspect in going abroad out of their houses, and that through the resort of them that cometh to their houses, they be not evil spoken of. Chap. seven.  
Among all the councils that may or aught to be given to Princesses and great Ladies, this is the first: that they do what they can to have rest in their houses, and that they go not as strays to the mansions of other men. For if such Ladies are good, they get much reputation: and if perchance they be evil, they take from men all occasion. Whether the husband be present or absent, it is a most necessary and honest thing that the wife be for the most part in the house: For by this means the household shallbe well governed, and from the heart of the husband shallbe withdrawn all kind of suspicions. Sithence the office of the husband is to gather goods and riches, and the office of a wi●e to keep and preserve them: the hour that she goeth out of the house, she ought to think that her maidens will stray abroad, the children will run out to play, the varlets and servants will be out of order, the neighbours will take occasions to speak evil, and that which is worst of all: some will steal the goods out of the house, and the others will speak evil of the renown of the wife. Oh, god giveth a goodly gift & grace to that man which hath such and so good a wife, that of her own nature loveth to keep herself within the house. And truly I say that such one doth excuse many griefs, & saveth much money. For she spendeth not the goods in apparel, nor giveth occasion to men to judge evil of her person. The greatest debate that is between man and wife, is for that he desireth to get and keep his goods to bring up his children, and to maintain his family: and on the other part that she desireth to spend all upon apparel. For women in this case are so curious in loving of themselves, that they would abstain from meats that should maintain their life, only to buy a new gown to set out their pride. Women naturally do love to keep, and will not spend any thing, except it be in apparel: For every hour (that is in the day and the night) they desire to have a new gown to change. My intention is not to speak of apparel only, but to persuade Princesses and great Ladies, that they would keep themselves in their houses: and in so doing, they should excuse these superfluous wastes & expenses. For her neighbour seeing her better appareled than she is, looketh upon her husband as she were a lion. It chanceth oftentimes (I would to god I had no cause to speak it) that if by chance there cometh any great or solemn feast or marriage, she will never look lovingly on his face, before he hath given her a new gown to her back: and when the poor gentleman hath no money to pay, of necessity he must run in credit. And when the vanity of the woman is past, than the time of payment draweth near and they come to arrest all his goods: so that they have cause to lament one hole year, for that which they have spent in one hour.  
Women seldom contend for that one is fairer, more nobler of lineage, better married, or more virtuous than an other: but only for that an other goeth better appareled than she. For touching apparel, there is no woman can endure that an other meaner woman should make comparison with her, nor that in like manner her equal should excel her. Lycurgus' in the laws that he gave to the Lacedæmonians, commanded that their wives should not go out of their houses, but at divers solemn feasts in the year. For he said, that the women ought to be making their prayers in the Temples to the gods, or else in their houses bringing up their children. For it is not honest, nor commendable, that the wife should pass her time abroad, trotting from street to street as common women. I say that the Princesses and great Ladies are much more bound to keep themselves at home in their houses, than other women of meaner degree: & without a cause I speak it not, for thereby they shall get them more reputation. For there is no virtue whereby the woman winneth more reputation in the common wealth, than always to be seen resident in her house. I say also that a wife ought the most part of her time to keep her house, because she hath less occasion than other have to go abroad. For if the poor wife (the Plebeian) go out of her house, she goeth for no other cause but for to seek meat: but if the rich and noble woman goeth out of her house, it is for nothing but to take her pleasure. Let not princesses marvel, nor let not great ladies wonder, if they dispose their feet to trot, & occupy their eyes to behold, though their enemies and neighbours with cankered hearts doth judge them, and with evil tongues defame them: for the fond deeds that women do, maketh men to be rash of judgement. I like it well that the husbands should love their wives, that they should comfort them, and make much of them, and that they should put their trust in them: but I do discommend that the women should go gadding abroad in visitation, from house to house, & that their husbands dare not gain say them. For admit that they be good in their persons: yet in this doing they give occasion for men to esteem them vain and light. Seneca saith in an epistle, that the great Roman Cato the censor ordained, that no woman should go out of her house being alone, & if perhaps it were in the night, she should not go alone without company, & that the company should not be such as she would choose, but such as her husband or parent would assign: so that with the same countenance we behold now a comen woman, with the self same looks than we beheld her that went oft out of her house, Noble ladies (which love their honour) ought greatly to consider & way the great inconveniences that may ensue by often gadding abroad: for they spend much to apparel them, they lose much time in trimming them, they keep gentlewomen to wait upon them, they will strive with their husbands to go, & whiles she is out of the doors, the house shall be evil kept, and all the enemies & friends thereby have matter whereupon to talk: finally I say, that the woman that goeth out of her house, doth not weigh the loss of her honour so much, as she doth the pleasure she taketh abroad. Presuming (as I presume) to write with gravity, I say, that I am ashamed to speak it, yet for all that I will not refrain to write of the walks of these dames that visit & desire to be visited: amongst whom there is moved oftentimes such vain communication, that it causeth their husbands to become enemies: and on the other part they remember more the gossippinges that they have to go, than their sins which they ought to lament.   

¶ Of the commodities and discommodities which follow Princesses and great Ladies that go abroad to visit or abide in the house Cap. viii.  
LUcretia by the consent of all, was counted the cheafest of all other Matrons of Rome, and not for that that she was more fair, more wise, of greater parentage, or more noble. But because she did withdraw herself from company, and abode solitary. For she was such a one, that in the heroical virtues there could be nothing more desired: nor in women's weakness there was nothing in her to be amended. The history of the chaste Lucretia, is evident in Titus Livius, that when the husbands of divers Romans came home from the wars to their houses, they found their wives in such sort, that some were gazing out of the windows, others devising vainly at their doors, others in the field wandering, others in their gardens banqueting, others in the market buying, and others in the mids of the streets, here and there gadding: but the famous Lucretia was found in her house alone, weaving in silk, so that she flying company for that she would not be seen, made herself in her honour and renown better to be known. I will give an other counsel to Princesses and great Ladies, the which I am willing to give, so I wish they would be as desirous to receive, that is to weet: if they will be esteemed and counted for honest women, that they must keep themselves from evil company. For though the stinking carrion doth no harm, because we eat it not: yet the unsavoury sent thereof annoyeth us by smelling. The honour of women is so delicate a thing, that if we give them licence to go abroad to visit women: we must also give them leave to be visited of men. For that one Dame should visit an other, it seemeth much charity: but that men should visit women, I cannot but think it much dishonesty. In the presence of their husbands and near kinsfolks, they may be visited and talked withal, and this is to be understood, of approved and honest persons: not withstanding I say if the husband be not at home, I would it should be counted sacrilege, if any man pass the thresshold of the door to visit the wife. plutarch saith in the book of the praises of women, that the wives of the Numydians, when their husbands were gone out of their houses, kept their gates shut, & locked themselves in their houses: and they had a law, that what so ever he were that knocked at the door being shut, without calling, he should have his right hand cut of. Cicero in the book of his laws saith, that amongst the Romans there was an ancient law, and much used: that if perchance any woman did owe any money to any man, and that the husband being the debtor were out of his house, the creditor should not ask his wife the debt, because that under the colour of recovering the goods, he should not dishonour her in her fame. I would say therefore, that if the creditor was not permitted in Rome to recover his good? for that the wife was not of her husband accompanied: much less they would give licence to visit a woman alone. For it were more reason that the creditor should enter for to recover his goods: then thou shouldest enter only for thy pastime. The divine Plato in the books of the common wealth saith, and by profound reasons persuadeth the wives of Grece, that they have no secret friends, but that every one keep this saying in memory for a principal: that the woman ought not to have any other friend but her husband. For women ought not to have licence to make friends: nor conditions to make enemies. Princesses and great Dames ought to consider, that every one of them giveth their bodies, their goods, and their liberty to their husbands. Then since it is so I say, that with the liberty, she ought also to give him her will. For it little availeth the man and the wife that their goods be common, if their wills be private: For to the end that god be served, and the people edified, both aught in one house to abide, at one table togethers to eat, in one bed to sleep, and besides this, they both aught one thing to love. For if the man and the wife in love do differ, in their lives they shall never be quiet. I admonish, desire, and counsel all women, if they will be well married, that they think it good that their husband will, that they praise all that he praiseth, that they prove all that he proveth, that they content themselves with that wherewith their husbands are contented, & above all, that they love no more than their husbands shall love: for otherwise it might be that the wife should set her eyes upon one, and the husband engage his heart to an other. plutarch in the book of his pollytikes saith, that a woman after she is married, hath nothing proper: for the day that she contracteth mamariage, she maketh her husband the only Lord of her goods, her liberty, and of her person. So that if the wife willeth any other thing, then that which the husband willeth, if she would love any other thing then that that her husband loveth, we will not call her a true lover, but an open thief: for thieves do not so much harm to rob the husband of his money, as the wife doth in withdrawing from him her heart. If the woman will live in peace with her husband, she ought to mark whereunto he is inclined, for so much as if he be merry, she ought to rejoice, and if he be sad, she must temper herself, if he be covetous, she should keep, if he be prodigal, she should spend, if he be unpatient, she should dissemble, and if he be suspected, she must beware. For the woman which is wise and sage, if she can not as she would, she ought to will what she may. Well, whether the husband be evil inclined, or in his conditions evil mannered, I swear, that he cannot suffer that his wife should have any other lovers: For though the man be of a mean stock, he had rather always that his wife should love him alone, than the best of the nobility in the town, One thing I cannot dissemble, because I see that god is therewith offended. Which is, that many Ladies make their excuses through sickness, because they would not past once in the week come to here service and yet we see them busy daily trotting about to visit their friends, and the worst of all is, that in the morning for cold they will not rise to go to the churches, and yet afterwards in the heat of the day they go a gadding from house to house, whereas they are often times until night.  
I would that the Ladies would consider with themselves, before they should go out of their houses on visitation, to what end they go abroad: and if perchance they go abroad to be looked on, let them know for a sewerty, that there be few that will praise their beauty, but there be many that will dyscommend their gadding. And wherefore do these Dames assembel together, for some grave matters I warrant you, shall I tell you, it is either to banquet with some dainty dishes, to talk of their petigres, to devise of their husbands, to see who hath the best gown, to note who is evil attired, to flatter the fair, to laugh to scorn the foul, to mourmure of their neighbours, and that which is worst of all, that they themselves which speak evil of them that are absent, do gnaw the one the other with envy. Seldom times it chanceth that the Dames chide not with their husbands, after that in this sort they have been together: for so much as the one noteth the evil apparel, the other babbling, they note the one to be a fool and the other to be simple, so that it seemeth not that they are meet to visit the one the other: but to look, & accuse the one the other. It is a strange thing for the sage woman to think that she should take pleasure abroad, since she hath her husband at home to whom she may talk: & hath her children to learn, her daughters to teach, her family to order, and her goods to govern: she hath her house to keep, and her parents whom she ought to please: then since she hath within her house such pastime, why do they accept company of strange men? That married women should have private friends, and love to be visited: it followeth oftentimes that god is offended, the husband injuried, and the people slandered: & the woman that is married, taketh little profit & it hindereth the marriage of her that is to marry. For in such a case though some desire her for her riches: yet more will forsake her for her evil fame.   

¶ That women great with child, inspecially the Princesses & great Ladies ought to be very circumspect, for the danger of the creatures wherein is showed many misfortunes happened to women with child in the old time for suffering them to have their wills. Cap. ix.  
ONe of the most necessary things for him that taketh in hand any great journey, over any dangerous countries, is at that the beginning he ought to learn the way which he ought to go: for it is a thing no less troublesome than perilous, that when he should come to rest, of necessity he should be enforced to travel. No man can denay but that man's life is a long and tedious journey, the which beginneth at our birth, & endeth at our death: for in the end to have a long or short life is none other, but to come sooner or later to the grave. The chiefest folly of all (in mine opinion) is this, that some in their own opinions think they have counsel enough for others, and to all others it seemeth that they want for themselves. For of right he may be called a fool, that condemneth all other as fools: and advanceth himself to be wise. Every man ought to let his neighbour live in peace, and though he do esteem himself to be wise, yet he ought not to think his neighbour a fool: for there is none so wise, but that he may occupy it all. For we never saw any man so wise of himself, but that he needed the counsel of an other. And if this want be in those that be very old, truly it is much more in them that be young: whose flesh is not dry, but green, the blood not cold, but hot, no deadly heat, but very lively, the bestial motions not mortified, but quickened, and hereof ensueth, that young men love their own advice and opinion, and despise the counsel of all other.  
When the trees are tender, they bind them togethers because they grow right, they bridal the horse when as yet they are but colts, to the end they may be easy hereafter to the bridal. They take the hawks in the nest, to make them more familiar: & when the beasts are little, they take them to teach them. I mean, that a man ought to instruct his children, to the end they may know to live well here after. I admonish, and tell the mothers that have daughters, that there is no remedy to reform the evil inclination of our children, but to teach them, and to bring them up well in their youth: for there is no wound but is dangerous, if in time the plaster be not laid thereunto. Returning now to our purpose, since that in all things there is order and measure, we will declare presently how the male child ought to be taught: & first of all we will treat, how a man ought to provide when the infant is begotten, and when as yet it is alive in the mother's womb, to the intent Princesses and great Ladies should live very circumspectly, when they know they are conceived with child. I should be excused to speak of this matter, since it is not my profession, and that as yet I was never married, but by that I have red of some, and by that I have hard of others, I will and dare be so bold to say one word. For the sage oft times giveth a better account, of that he hath red: then the simple doth of that he hath proved.  
This thing seemeth to be true, between the physician and the patient: for where the patient suffereth the evil, he oft times demandeth the physician what his sickness is, & where it holdeth him, and what it is called, and what remedy there is for his disease: so the physician knoweth more by his science, than the patient by his exsperience, A man ought not to denay, that the women and in especially great ladies know not by experience, how they are altered when they are quick, and the great pains they suffer when they are delivered: we could not denay but that there is great danger in the one, & great peril in the other, but they shall not know from whence all cometh and from whence all proceedeth, and what remedy is necessary. For there are many which complaineth of robberies, but they know not what the thieves are that have rob them, First according to my judgement and opinion, that which the woman quick with child ought to do, is that they go softly & quietly, and that they eschew running, either in coming or going: for though she little esteem the health of her person, yet she ought greatly to regard the life of the creature. The more precious the liquor is, and the more weaker the vessel is which containeth it: so much the more they ought to fear the danger, lest the liquor shed, and the vessel break. I mean, that the complexion of women (being with child) is very delicate, and that the soul of the creature is precious, & therefore it ought with great diligence to be preserved: for all the treasure of the Indes is not equal in value, to that which the woman beareth in her bowels. When a man planteth a vineyard forthwith he maketh a ditch, or some fence about it, to the end that beasts should not crop it while it is young: nor that travailers should gather the grapes when they are ripe. And if the labourer doth this thing for to get a little wine only, the which for the soul and body is not always profitable: how much more circumspection ought the woman to have to preserve her child, since she shall render an account to the creator of her creature, unto the church of a Christian, and unto her husband of a child. In my opinion, where the account at the hour of death is so straight, it is requisite that in the time of her life she be circumspect: for god knoweth every thing so well in our life, that there is none that can beguile him in rendering his account at his death. There is no wight can suffer, nor heart dissemble, to see a man have his desire that is to say, to have his wife great with child, and ready to bring forth good fruit, & afterward to see the woeful mother, through some sudden accident perish, & the innocent babe not to be borne. When the woman is healthful, & big with child, she is worthy of great reproach, if either by running, leaping, or dancing, any mischance hap unto her. And truly the husband hath great cause to lament this case: for without doubt the gardener fealeth great grief in his heart, when in the prime time the tree is laden with blosomes, and yet by reason of some sharp and bitter frost it never beareth fruit. It is not only evil that women should run & leap when they are big, & great with child, but it is also dishonest, and specially for great Ladies: for always women that be common dancers, are esteemed as light housewives. The wives in general, princesses and great ladies in particular, aught to go temperately, & to be modest in their movings: for the modest gate argueth discretnes in the person. All women naturally desire to be honoured, & reverenced: & touching that I let them know, that there is nothing which in a common wealth is more honour for a woman, then to be wise & ware in speaking, moderate & quiet in going. For it is unpossible but that the woman which is light in her going and malicious in her talking, should be despised and abhorred. In the year of the foundation of Rome .466. the romans sent Curius Dentatus to make war against king Pirrus, who kept the city of Tharent, & did much harm to the people in Rome: for the Romans had a great courage to conquer strange realms, & therefore they could have no patience to suffer any stranger to invade theirs. This Curius Dentatus was he which in the end overcame king Pirrus, & was the first that brought the elephants to Rome in his triumph, wherefore the fierceness of those beasts astonied the Roman people much: for they weighed little the sight of the kings laden with irons, but to see the Elephants (as they did) they wondered much. Curius Dentatus had one only sister the which he entirely loved.  
They were seven children, two of the which died in the wars, & other three by pestilence: so that there were none left him, but that sister, wherefore he loved her with all his heart. For the death of unthrifty children, is but as a watch for children unprovided of favours. This sister of Curius Dentatus was married to a Roman consul, & was conceived & gone .7 months with child: and the day that her brother triumphed (for joy of her brother's honour) she leapt & danced so much, that in the same place she was delivered, & so unluckily, that the mother took her death, & the child never lived, whereupon, the feast of the triumph ceased, and the father of the infant for sorrow lost his speech. For the heart which suddenly feeleth grief, incontinently loseth understanding. Tibullus the Grecian, in the third book De casibus triumphi. declareth the history in good style, how, and in what sort it chanced. Nine years after that the kings of Rome wear banished from the rape that Tarquin did to the chaste Lucretia, the Roman created a dignity which they called DICTATURA, and the Dictatoure that had this office, was above all other lord & chief: for the Romans perceived that the common wealth could not be governed, but by one head alone. And because the dictator had so great authority, as the Emperor hath at this present, & to th'end they should not become tyrants: they provided that the office of the Dictatoursship should last no longer than vi. months in the year, the which past and expired they chose another. Truly it was a good order that that office dured but vi. months. For oft times princes thinking to have perpetual authority, become negligent in using justice. The first dictator in Rome was Largius Mamillus, who was sent against the Volces, the which at that time were the greatest enemies to the Romans: for Rome was founded in such a sign, that always it was beloved of few, and abhorred of many. As Titus Livius saith, this Largius Mamillus vanquished the Volces, & triumphed over them, & in the end of the war destroyed their mighty city called Curiola, and also destroyed and overthrew many places and fortresses in that province: for the cruel hearts do not only destroy the persons, but also take vengeance of the stones. The hurts which Largius Mamillus did in the country of the Volces were marvelous, and the men which he slew were many, and the treasories he rob were infinite, and the captives which he had in his triumph were a great number, amongst whom inespecial he brought captive a noble man's daughter, a beautiful gentlewoman, the which he kept in his house for the recreation of his person: for the ancient Romans gave to the people all the treasures to maintain the war, & they took to themselves all the vicious things to keep in their houses. The case was, that this damsel being with child, Largius Mamillus, brought her to solace herself in his orchard, where were sundry young fruits, and as than not ripe to eat, whereof with so great affection she did eat, that forthwith she was delivered in the same place of a creature: so that on the one part she was delivered: and on the other part the child died.  
This thing chanced in the gardens of Vulcan, two days after the triumph of Largius Mamillus, a rueful and lamentable case to declare, forasmuch as both the child that was borne, the mother that was delivered, and also the father that begat it, the self same day died, and were buried all in one grave: and this thing was not without great wailing, & lamenting throughout all Rome. For if with tears their lives might have been restored: without doubt none of them should have been buried. The first son of Rome which rebelled against room was Tarquin the proud. The second that withstood Rome (being as yet in Lucania) was Quintus Marcius. The third that went against Rome was the cruel Silla. The damages which these three, did to their mother Rome, were such and so great that the three several wars of Africa were nothing to be compared, to those three evil children: for those enemies could scarcely see the walls of Rome, but these unnatural children had almost not left one stone upon another. A man ought not greatly to esteem those buildings that these tyrants threw to the ground, nor the buildings that they destroyed, neither the men that they slew, nor the women that they forced, ne yet the orphans which they made: but above all things we ought to lament for that, that they brought into Rome. For the common wealth is not destroyed for lack of riches, & sumptuous buildings: but because vices abound, & virtuous want. Of these three Romans, he whose name was Quintus Marcius, had been consul thrice, once dictator, & four times Censor, and in the end he was with much shame banished from Rome, wherewith to revenge this injury he came with a great power & army against Rome: for the proud heart, wounded with injury, is never quiet in his life time until he see his enemies destroyed, or that on them he hath taken vengeance. Quintus Marcius being very nigh to the gates of Rome, was most instantly required that he would not destroy his mother Rome: but he took no regard, nor would condescend to any request, until such time that his mother issewed with a niece of his, whom he loved entirely. At whose intercession & tears he left his anger, & raised his siege from Rome: for many are overcome sooner with tears, then with importunate & reasonable requests. The ladies of Rome used much to have their hears long and yellow, and to wear their wastes high: and straight. And as the Niece of Quintus Marcius was great & big with child, the day that the peace was made between Quintus Marcius, & Rome, lacinge herself to hard in her attire, to seem more proper & comely, she long before her time was delivered of a creature: & the case was so woeful & unfortunate, that the creature delivered died: the mother lost her life, and the mother losing her life, suddenly her grandmother fell dead to the ground, through which occasion all the joy and mirth was turned into sorrow & sadness. For it is commonly seen, when the world is in the greatest joy, than fortune suddenly turneth it into sorrow. The authors hereof are Tibulus and Porphirius both Grecians.   

¶ The author followeth and declareth other inconveniences and unlucky chances which have happened to women with child. Chap. x.  
THe wars of Tarent being ended, immediately begun the wars of Carthage, of which so long & tedious wars, the possession of the Isles of Maiorica, & Minorica were occasion, forsomuch as the one would take it, and the other defend it. This war endured well nigh the space of 40. years, for oft times the wastes and damages which are done in the wars are greater: then the profit, for which they contend. The first captain in this war of the Romans was Gaius Duellus, and the first of the carthaginians was Hammon, the which with their ships fought on the sea of Sicili, the which was very cruel: for there they feared both the fury of the sea, and also the cruelty of the pike, the which two things put man's life in great danger. Of this cruel battle the Roman captain remained victorious, forasmuch as he drowned 14 ships, and took other 30. he slew. 3. thousand men, and brought 3. thousand carthaginians prisoners: and this was the first victory that the Romans had by sea. And that that the Romans most rejoiced at was, that by sea also they remained conquerors. The captain Gaius Duellus departing from Sicili came to Rome, where he had a sister no less virtuous, then rich and beautiful, in whose house he lodged, where he made a costly supper to all the senators of Rome, & to all the captains which came with him from the wars: for the vicious men knew not wherein to show their love to their friends, but by inviting them to costly banquets. The sister of the captain Gaius Duellus, for joy of his coming, and for the pleasure of the banquet & feast which was made in her house, did eat more than she was accustomed, & also more than it behoved one in her case, so that in the presence of all she began to annoy the bidden gests: for she not only vomited out the meat of her stomach, but also the blood of her veins, and therewithal most unluckily brought forth her fruit, which she had in her entrails, wherewith immediately after the soul departed from the body, and so died. Truly this case was no less lamentable, than the others, for so much as Gaius lost his sister, the husband lost his wife & his child, & the wife & the child lost their lives: and for that that Rome lost so noble and excellent a Roman, & above all for that it so chanced in such a time of so great joy and pleasure. For there can come no unluckier news, then in the time of much mirth to hear tell of any great mischance. Of this matter mention is made in Blundus in the book of the declination of the Empire. The second war of Africa which was between Rome and Carthage, was the. 540. years after the foundation of Rome, wherein were captains Paulus Emilius, and Publius Varro: the which two consuls fought the great and famous battle of Cannas in the province of Apulia, I say famous, because Rome never lost such nobility and Roman youth, as she lost in that day. Of these two counsulles, Paulus Emilius in the battle was slain, and Publius Varro overcome, and the courageous Hannibal remained conqueror of the field, wherein died xxx senators, and 300. officers of the senate, and above xl thousand footmen, & three thousand horsemen, finally the end of all the Roman people had been that day, if Hannibal had had the wit to have followed so noble a victory, as he had the courage to give so cruel a battle. A little before that Publius Varro departed to go to the wars, he was married to a fair & young Roman called Sophia, & with in seven months she was quick: & as news was brought her that Paulus Emilius was dead, & her husband overcome, she died suddenly, the creature remaining alive in her body. This case above all was very pitiful, in that that after he himself was vanquished, & that he had seen his companion the consul Emilius slain, with so great a numbered of the Roman people, fortune would that with his own eyes he should behold the entrails of his wife cut to take out the child, & likewise to see the earth opened, to bury his wife. Titus Livius saith, that Publius Varro remained so sorrowful in his heart, to see himself overcome of his enemies, & to see his wife so suddenly & so unluckily stricken with death, that all the time that his life endured, he neither comed his beard, slept in bed, nor dined at the table: & hereat we ought not to marvel, for a man in his heart may so be wounded in one hour, that he shall never rejoice all the days of his life. If we put no doubts in Titus Livius, the Romans had long & tedious wars against the Samnites, which endured for the space of lxiii years continually, until such time as the consul Ancus Rutillus (which was a virtuous man) did set a good appointment of peace between the Samnites & the Romans: for the noble & stout hearts ought always by virtue to bring their enemies to peace. These wars therefore being so cruel, & obstinate Titus Venurius, & Spurius Posthumius (which were Romain captains) were overcome by Pontius the valiant captain of the Samnites: who after the victory did a thing never seen nor hard of before. That is to weet, that all the Romain prisoners whom he took, he put about their necks a yoke, wherein were written these words. In spirit of Rome, the Romans shallbe subject to the yoke of the Sanites. Wherewith in deed the Romans were greatly injuried, wherefore they sought stoutly to be revenged of the Samnites: for the hearts that are haughty, and proud, cannot suffer that others have their minds lofty and high. The Romans therefore created to be captain of the war, one named Lucius Papirius, who had commission to go against the Samnites. This Lucius was more fortunate in his doings, then comely of his person, for he was deformed of his face, notwithstanding he did so good service in the war, & fortune favoured him so well, that he did not only overcome & vanquish, but also destroyed them: and though the injury which the Samnites did to the Romans was great, yet truly the injury which the Romans did to the Samnites was much greater. For fortune is so variable, that those which yesterday we saw in most prosperity, to day we see in greatest adversity. This Lucius Papirius therefore did not only vanquish the Samnites, kept them prisoners, and made yokes for their necks: but also bound them with cords together, in such sort, that they made them plough the ground, drawing two and two a plough. And yet not herewith contented, but with gads they pricked and tormented them. If the Samnites had had pity of the Romans being overcome, the Romans likewise would have taken compassion of them when they were conquerors. And therefore the prosperous have as much need of good council, as the miserable have need of remedy. For the man which is not merciful in his prosperity, ought not to marvel though he find no friends in his necessity. This Lucius Papirius had a daughter married to a senator of Rome, who was called Torquatus, and she was called Ypolita. And about the time that she should have been delivered, she went forth to receive her father, the which she ought not to have done: for the throng of the people in receiving him being great, & she herself being great with child, by a heavy chance, as she would have passed in at a narrow gate, she was so pressed in the throng, that she changed her life for death, & her father turned his mirth & joy, into sorrow & sadness. For he took the death of his daughter very heavily, & so much the more because it was so sudden. I say he took it heavily, since he was so stout a man, & so sage withal, that all Rome thought much that any such sudden chance should have dismayed so wise a man, that of his wisdom he could take no profit: but hereat let no man marvel, for there are many that hath hearts to shed the blood of their enemies, & yet can not withhold the tears of their eyes. Annius Severus in the third book De infelice fortuna saith, that the day that this woeful mishap chanced to Lucius Papirius, he lift up his eyes to the heavens, & weeping said. O fortune, deceivoure of all mortal men, thou madest me to conquer in war, to th'intent thou wouldst overcome me in peace. My mind was to declare unto you all these ancient histories, to the end all may know, how tender and delicate women with child are, and how diligent their husbands ought to be to preserve them: since there is nothing so tender to be kept, nor any glass so easy to be broken. For there is much glass, that though it fall to the ground, yet it doth not break: but a woman with child, only for treading her foot a wry, we see with danger to be delivered.   

¶ That women great with child, and especially princesses and great ladies, aught to be gently used of their husbands. Cap. xi.  
IF we understand the chapter before, we shall find that women with child have been in great dangers, some through leaping, some by dancing, other by eating, others by banqueting, others through gadding, other by strait lacing, & all this proceedeth through their own follies, that seeketh to be destroyers of their own bodies. Truly herein princesses & great ladies are worthy of great rebuke, when through their own follies they are not safely delivered of their creatures. And I would gladly they took example, not only of reasonable men, but also of brute beasts: for there is no beast so brute in the wild mountains, but escheweth that which to his life & death willbe hurtful. The Bears, the Lioness, & the wols, never issue our of their caves & dens so long as they be big, & this they do to avoid the danger of the hunters, because at that time they would not be coursed. Then since these things are done by brute beasts (whose younglings are always hurtful to men) to th'intent that their greedy whealpes might safely be brought forth, to devour our innocent cattle: how much more than ought the woman to be careful for her fruit, which is the increase of Christian congregation? If women brought not forth, and children were not borne, though there be earth, yet there should be none to people it: for god created all things to serve the creature, & created the creatures to serve their creator. Let women with child take example by the chessenuttes and walnuts, how & in what sort they defend their fruit after that of their blosomes they are deprived: for the chessenut tree defendeth his fruit with a rough & hard husk, & the walnut keepeth her fruit with a thick shalt in like manner, so that the water can not wet them, nor the wind shake them. Now since that the trees which have but a vegetative lief, and the beasts a sensitive lief, take such heed to themselves when they feel them ready to bring forth their fruit: much more women with child ought to take heed to themselves, since they have reason and understanding, lest through their negligence the creature should perish. Let every man judge how little he looseth, when he looseth nuts and chessenuts: and for the contrary let every man judge what the church looseth, when the woman with child do not bring forth their fruit, into the light of baptism. For our mother the holy church bewaileth not for that the vines are frozen: but for the souls which are lost. To the end that the man may see the fruitful blessing which he desireth, and that the woman with child may see herself well delivered: the husband ought to beware that he enforceth her not much to labour, and the woman likewise aught to be circumspect that she take not to much idleness. For in women with child this is a general rule, that to much travail causeth them before their time to deliver: & to much idleness putteth them in danger. The man is cruel that will have his wife travail & take as much pains when she is big, as he would have her at an other time when she is not with child: for the man which is clothed, can not run so swift, as he that is naked. Aristotle in the sixth book de Animalibus saith, when the Lioness is big with whelp, the Lion doth not only hunt for her himself: but also both night & day he wandereth continually about to watch her. I mean, that princesses & great Ladies when they be with child, should be of their husbands both tended & served: for the man can not do the woman so great a pleasure before her lying down, as she doth to him when she bringeth forth a son. Considering the danger that the woman abideth in her deliverance, & beholding the pains that the husband taketh in her service: without comparison that is greater which she suffereth, then that which he endureth. For when the woman delivereth, she doth more than her power: and the husband though he serveth her well, doth less than his duty. The gentle and loving husband ought not one moment to forsake his wife, specially when he seeth she is great: for in the law of a good husband it is written, that he should set his eyes to behold her, his hands to serve her, he should spend his goods to cherish her, & should give his heart to content her. Let not men think it pains to serve their wives when they are with child: for their labour consisteth in their strength, but the travel of their wives is in their entrails. And that which is most pitiful is, that when the sorrowful women will discharge their burden on the earth, they often times bring themselves unto the grave. The mean women of the Plebeians ought no less to be reproved, for that when they are with child, they would be exempted from all business of the house: the which neither they themselves ought to desire, nor yet their husbands to suffer. For idleness is not only an occasion not to deserve heaven: but also it is a cause whereby women oft times have ill success in their travail. For considering both the dainty Lady with child, that hath her pleasure, and doth little, and on the other side the poor man's wife which moderately laboureth: you shall see that the great Ladies for all their pleasures abideth more danger, than the other doth with all her labour. The husband ought to keep his wife from taking to much pains, for so ought he to do: and the wife likewise aught to flee to much pleasure, for it behoveth her. For the mean travail is no other, but occasion of a safe delivery. The women with child also aught to take heed to themselves, and in especially noble and great ladies, that they be not to greedy nor hasty in eating. For the woman being with child ought to be sober: and the woman which is a great eater, with great pains shall live chaste. Women with child oft times do disordre themselves in eating liquorous meats, and under the colour of feeding themselves and their infant, they take to excessively: which is not only unwholesome for the child, but also dishonour for their mothers. For truly by the great excess of the mother (being with child) cometh many diseases to the infant when it liveth. The husbands also ought neither to displease nor grieve their wives, specially when they see them great with child: for of truth oft times she delivereth with more danger, by reason of the offences that men do unto them: then by the abundance of meats which they do eat. Though the woman when she is with child, in some things doth offend her husband, yet he like a wise man ought to forbear her, having respect to the child wherewith she is great and not to the injury that she hath committed: for in th'end, the mother can not be so great an offender, but that the child is much more innocent. For the proof of this, it needeth not books to read, but only our eyes to see: how the brute beasts for the most part (when the females are big) do not touch them, nor yet the females suffer them to be touched. I mean, that the noble and high estates ought to absent themselves from their wives carnally, being great with child: and he that in this case shall show himself most temperate, shall of all men be deamed most virtuous. I do not speak this to th'end it should bind a man, or that it were an offence then to use the company of his wife: but unto men that are virtuous I give it as a counsel. For some things ought to be done of necessity, & others ought to be eschewed for honesty. Diodorus Siculus saith, that in the realm of Mauritania there were so few men, & so many women, that every man had five wives, where there was a law amongst them, that no man should marry under three wives: furthermore they had a wonderful & foolish custom, that when any husband died, one of these women should cast herself quick in to the grave & be buried with him. And if that within a month she did it not, or that she died not, by justice she was then openly put to death: saying that it is more honesty to be in company with her husband in the grave, than it is to be alone in her house. In the Isles of Baliares the contrary is seen, for there increase so many men, and so few women, that for one woman there was seven men: and so they had a custom, specially amongst the poor, that one woman should be married with five men. For the rich men sent to seek for women in other strange Realms, wherefore then merchants came heavy laden with women, as now they do with merchandise to sell. Upon which occasion there was a custom in those Isles, that (for as much as there were so few women) when any woman with child drew near the seven months, they were separated from their husbands, and shut and locked up in the Temples, where they gave them such things as were necessary for them of the comen treasure. For the ancients had their goods in such veneration, that they would not permit any person to eat that which he brought: but of that which unto the gods of the Temple was offered. At that time the Barbarous kept their wives locked in the church, because the gods having them in their Temples, should be more merciful unto them in their delivery, and also to cause them to avoid the dangers at that time: and besides that, because they took it for a great villainy, that the women during that time should remain with their husbands. The famous and renowned philosopher Pulio, in the fift book De moribus antiquorum said, that in the Realm of Paunonia (which now is Hongarie) the women that were great with child were so highly esteemed, that when any went out of her house, all those which met with her, were bound to return back with her, & in such sort as we at this present do reverence the holy communion, so did these Barbarous than the women with child. The women of Carthage being with child (when Carthage was Carthage) had as great privileges, as now our sanctuaries have for the safeguard of misdoers: for in times past, all such offenders as could enter into the house where a woman lay in child bed, should have been free from correction of justice. As Fronto saith, in his book of the veneration of the gods, the Galloys Transalpins', did not only honour & reverence the women with child, but also with much care & diligence watched her delivery: for it little availeth the ship to have passed safe the dangerous seas, if at the shore she be cast away. The case was in this sort, that all the ancient gentiles honoured some gods in their temples, & kept other in their houses, the which were called Lares, & Penates: & when any woman began to labour, each neighbour brought his familiar god unto her to present her with all, because they thought that the more gods there were, of so much more power they were to keep her from perils. Speaking like a christian, truly those gods were of small value, since they could not help the woman safely to be delivered, that was in travail.   

¶ What the Philosopher Pisto was, and of the rules he gave concerning women with child. Cap. xii.  
IN the time of Octavian the Emperor, was a philosopher called Pisto, which was of the sect of Pythagoras, and when Rome flourished, he was very familiar with the Emperor Octavian, and well-beloved of all the people, which ought not to be a little esteemed: for he which of the prince is most favoured, commonly of the people is most hated. This Emperor Octavian was a prince very desirous of all virtuous things, so that when he dined with his captains, he spoke of war, when he supped with the sages, he reasoned of sciences, and he that uttered any dishonest or idle word in his presence, he always afterward took him as his enemy. This Pisto was very grave in weighty affairs, very pleasant in slentes and jests, & oft times he was demanded many questions of the Emperor, whereof the answers of some (according to the demands and questions) here followeth.  
The Emperor said to Pisto, of all these that liveth, whom takest thou to be most fool? to whom the Philosopher answered. In my opinion I take him to be most fool, of whose word there cometh no profit: for truly he is not so very a fool that slingeth stones into the wind, as he that uttereth vain words.  
Tell me Pisto, whom ought we of right to desire to speak, and whom of right to command to be silent? he answered. It is good when speech doth profit, and good to keep silence, when speech is hurtful: for the one desiring to maintain the good, and the other to defend the evil, wars begin throughout all the world.  
Tell me Pisto, from what thing ought the fathers most to keep their children? he said. In my opinion parents ought in nothing to watch so much, as to keep them from being vicious: for the father ought rather to have his son die well, then to live evil.  
Tell me Pisto, what shall man do if he be brought to this extremity? that if he speak truth, he condemneth himself: and if he make a lie, he saveth himself. The virtuous man (said he) ought rather to choose to be overcome by truth, then to overcome by lies: for it is unpossible that a man which is a liar, should continue long in prosperity.  
Tell me Pisto, what shall man do to obtain rest? he answered. As I think the man can not have rest, unless he forsake worldly affairs: for the men that are occupied with weighty affairs, can not be without great cares are always accompanied of great troubles.  
Tell me Pisto, wherein a man showeth himself to be most wise? he answered. There is no greater proof to know a wise man, then if he be patient to suffer the ignorant: for in suffering an injury, the heart is more helped by wisdom, then by knowledge.  
Tell me Pisto, what is that thing that the virtuous man may lawfully desire? he answered. All that that is good (so that it be not to the prejudice of any other) may honestly be desired: but in my opinion that only ought to be desired, which openly without shame may be demanded.  
Tell me Pisto, what shall men do with their wives when they are great with child, to cause that the child in safety may be delivered? he answered. In the world there is nothing more perilous, then to have the charge of a woman with child. For if the husband serve her, he hath pain & travail: and if perchance he do not content her, she is in danger.  
In this case, the wives of Rome and their husbands also ought to be very diligent, and to the things following more careful: the which I show them more for counsel, then for commandment. For good counsel ought to have as much authority in the virtuous, as the commandment hath in the vicious. Thou Octavian, as thou art a merciful and a pitiful Emperor, and that keepest thy Niece Cossucia great with child, I know thou desirest that she had presently good and lucky delivery, and that she were delivered of her pain: all the which thou shalt see, if thou dost mark these things that I will show the here following.  
First, the woman ought to beware of dancing, leaping, and running: for leaping oftentimes maketh man to lose his speech, and women with child to lose their life, wherefore it is not reason that the folly of the mother should be permitted to put in hazard the life of the child.  
The second, the woman being with child ought to beware that she be not so hardy to enter into gardens, where there is much fruit, and that for eating to many she be not ill delivered: for it is no reason that the likerousnes of the mother, be punished with the death of the child.  
The third, the woman with child ought to beware of over hard lacing herself about the middle: for many Roman Dames for to seem proper, do wear their gowns so straight, that it is an occasion to kill their creatures: which is a heinous matter, that the young babe should lose his life, because his mother should seem pretty.  
The fourth, the women with child ought to beware of eating in a great banquet: for oftentimes there cometh a sudden deliverance, only through eating without measure, and it is not meet that for tasting a thing of little value, the mother and the child should both lose their lives.  
The fift, the woman being with child ought to beware that she giveth no ear to any sudden news: For she is in more danger for hearing a thing that grieveth her, then for suffering long sickness that paineth her: and it were unjust that for knowing of a trifling matter, the mother that is to be delivered, & the child that is to be borne, should both in one moment perish.  
The sixth, the woman with child ought to beware that she go not by any means to any feasts, where their shallbe any great assembly of people: for oft times the woman with child, seeing her to be to much thrust and priest, being not able to say I am here, may immediately die in the place, and it is not reason, but an unjust thing, that the woman for the desire to see the children of others, should make of her own orphans.  
The seventh, the husband ought to beware that she being with child, be not denayed any honest thing that she do mind: for in granting her it can not cost him moche, but in denying her he may lose much, and it should not be just, that since in her bringing forth she honoureth and increaseth the comen wealth of Rome, that Rome should condescend that any woman with child should receive any hurt or dishonour.  
These be the answers that Pisto made to the Emperor Octavian, the which he gave as rules to women with child, which being so kept, I do assure you that the great Ladies should deliver themselves from many perils, and the husbands also should escape from many sorrows. Concluding therefore that which above is spoken I say, that princesses and great ladies, when they are with child, aught to be more ware and circumspect than other mean women: for where man hopeth to have most profit, there ought he most to be careful. The author of this is Pulio in his third book De moribus antiquorum and sextus. Cheronensis in his .5. book de legibus domesticis   

Of three counsels which Lucius Seneca gave unto a secretary his friend, who served the Emperor Nero: and how the Emperor Mark Aureille disposed all the hours of the day. Chap. xiii.  
THe Emperor Nero had a Secretary called Emilius Varro, the which being in Rome builded a sumptuous house joining unto the gate of Salaria, whereunto he invited one day Lucius Seneca to a banquet, to the end the house might be more fortunate: for the Romans had a prophecy, that according to the good or ill luck of him that first entered into a new house, so should it continually be lucky, or unlucky. Lucius Seneca granted to the request of his friend Emilius Varro: and when they had well eaten, they went both to see this new building, showing unto Lucius Seneca all things, at the last the Secretary said thus unto Seneca. Those between both are for gests, those haulles are for merchants and suetors', these secrettes are for women, those chambers are for knights, those galleries which are covered are to avoid the son, this lowest part here is for horses, the Cellars are for the buttery: in the end he showed him the whole house, for the furnishing whereof there lacked not one jot. After the secretary Emilius Varro had showed him all his house, he looked when his gest Seneca would greatly praise and commend it, but he as though he knew nothing, said unto Emilius Varro as he went out of the doors, whose house is this? whereunto emilius answered, how now Seneca canst not thou tell? I have employed all my goods in building this house, and have led the all about to see it, and I have told the that it is mine, & yet dost thou ask me again whose it is? Lucius Seneca answered. Thou haste showed us the house for strangers, the house for slaves, the house for women, the house for horses, and in all this house thou hast not showed me one little part for thyself, but that an other man doth enter into it: for if thou hast any interest therein, they have the best thereof, which is the possession. I account the a wise man, I do account the a man of understanding, and also I know that withal thy heart thou art my friend: and since I have been bidden to day by the it is but reason, that for to reward that which thou hast done to me, I do some service unto thee, which shall be to give unto the some good counsel. For strangers use to pay for the feast with money, & vain men with telling lies, babblers by counting vain tales, children by flatteries: but virtuous men ought to pay, bygening good counsels. This house hath cost that much pain, great griefs, & much money, and if it cost that so much, it is but reason that thou enjoy the same. Take therefore these my three counsels, & it may be thou wilt find thyself better contented with those, then with the money of strangers: for many have wherewithal to build a house, but they have not understanding to govern the same.  
The first counsel is, though that thou love thy friend very well, or thy wife aswell, yet that thou never discover all the secrettes of thy heart, neither to thy friend, nor to thy wife: But that thou always reserve some particular unto thyself. For Plato sayeth, to whom a man committeth his secrettes, to him also he giveth his liberty.  
The second counsel is, that neither in private business, nor in public affairs thou occupy thyself so much, but at the least thou do reserve .3. hours in the day for thine own rest.  
The third council is, that thou have in thy house some secret place, whereof thou alone shalt have the key: and therein thou shalt have books, where thou mayest study of thy affairs, and also talk with thy friends. finally, this place shallbe a secretory of thy counsels, and a rest for thy traveles. These were the words that Lucius Seneca spoke to his friend Emilius Varro, which words were such as he himself was, that is to weet, of a sage and excellent personage: and though the banquet was rich, yet the payment of Lucius Seneca was much more worth. For the mind feeleth more taste in the good and ripe counsel: then the body doth in savoury and delicate meats. I have told you this example of Lucius Seneca, for to tell an other that happened to the Emperor Marcus Aurelius with his wise Faustine. And to the end that the order of the matter be not turned without breaking our History, first we will declare here the order which this Emperor observed in his life. For the comen wealth shall never be well governed, but where the prince governeth well his life.  
Princes of necessity ought to be well ordered in their life, because they may profit the affairs of the Empire, with the particulars of their house, and be cause they should use the particulars of their house, to the recreation of their person: and all these things ought to be divided according to time. For a good prince ought to lack no time to do that thing well which he hath to do: nor he ought to have any time vacant to employ himself to vice. The worldly call that time good, the which is, or was prosperous unto them: they call that time eull, which is, or hath been contrary and unfortunate unto them, The Creator will never that this sentence be approved by my pen: but I call that time good, which is employed in virtues, and that time evil, that is lost in vices. For the times are always as one, but men do turn from vice to virtue, from virtue to vice. The good Emperor Marcus Aurelius did divide the time, by time: so that though he had time for himself, he had time likewise to dispatch his own and others affairs: for the man that is willing, in a small time dispatcheth much business: & the man which is negligent, in a long time doth little. This was the order that the Emperor Marcus Aurelius took in spending his time. He slept .7. hours in the night, and one hour reasted himself in the day. In dining and supping he consumed only .2. hours: and it was not for that he took great pleasure to be long in eating, but because the philosophers which disputed before his presence, were occasion to prolong the time. For in .17. years they never saw him at meat, but one or other red unto him some book, or else the philosophers reasoned before him philophye. As he had many realms and provinces, so he appointed one hour for the affairs of Asia, for africa one hour, and for Europe another hour, and for the conversation of his wife, children, and family, he appointed other .2. hours of time: he had another hour for extraordinary affairs, as to here the complaints of the grieved, the quarrels of the poor, the complaints of the widows, and the robberies done to the orphans. For the merciful prince giveth no less ear unto the poor, which for want can do little: then to the rich, which for abundance can do much. He occupied all the residue of the day and night to read books, writ works, to make metre, and in studying of other antiquities, to practise with the sage, and to dispute with the philosophers: and finally he took no taste of any thing so much, as he did to talk of science: Unless the cruel wars did let him, or such like affairs troubled him: ordynarily in winter he went to bed at .9. of the clock, and awaked at .4. and because he would not be idle, he had always a book under his beds head, and the residue of the day he bestowed in reading. The romans had an ancient custom to bear fire before them, that is to weet, a torch light in the day, and a lamp burning in the night in their chambers, so that waking they burned wax, and fleaping they hourned oil. And the cause why the Romans ordained that the oil should be made of olive, and the wax made of bees (which was used to be borne before the princes) was to the end they should remember, that they ought to be as gentle and loving, as the oil of olive is sweet: and as profitable to the common wealth, as the Bees are. He did rise at .6. of the clock, and made himself ready openly, and with a gentle countenance he asked them that were about him, wherein they had spent all the night, and declared unto them then what he had dreamt, what he had thought, and what he had red: when he was ready, he washed his face with odiferous waters, and loved very well sweet savours. For he had so quick a scent, that he was much offended when he passed by any stinking place. In the morning he used to eat .2. morsels of a lectuary made of Sticades. and drank .3. spoonfuls of malvesey, or else two drops of Aqua Vite, because he had a cold stomach, for that he gave himself so much to study in times past. We see it by experience, that the great students are persecuted more with sickness, than any others: for in the sweetness of the science, they know not how their life consumeth. If it were in the summer season, he went in the morning to recreate himself to the river of Tiber, and walked there a foot for .2. hours, and in this place they talked with him that had business: and truly it was a great policy, for where as the Prince doth not sit, the sewtour always abridgeth his talk, And when the day began to wax hot, he went to the height capitol where all the Senate tarried for him, & from thence he went to the Coliseo, where the ambassadors of the provinces were, & there remained a great part of the day: afterwards he went to the chapel of the vestal virgins, & there he hard every nation by itself, according to the order which was prescribed. He did eat but one meal in the day, & it was very late, but he did eat well: not of many & divers sorts of meats, but of few and good. For the abundance of diverse and strange meats breadeth sundry diseases. They saw him once a week go thorough Rome, and if he went any more it was a wonder: at the which time he was always without company, both of his own, and also of strangers, to th'intent all poor men might talk with him of their business, or complain of his officers: for it is unpossible to reform the common wealth, if he which ought to remedy it, be not informed of the injuries done in the same? He was so gentle in conversation, so pleasant in words, so noble amongst the great, so equal with the least, so reasonable in that he did ask, so persyte in that he did work, so patiented in injuries, so thankful of benefits, so good to the good, and so severe to the evil: that all loved him for being good, and all the evil feared him for being just? A man ought not little to esteem the love that the people bore to this so good a Prince, and noble Emperor, forsomuch as the Romans have been thus: that for the felicity of their estate, they offered to their gods greater sacrifice, than they did in any other provinces. And Sextus Cheronensis sayeth, that the Romans offered more sacrifices to the gods, because they should lengthen the life of the Emperor, than they did offer for the profit of the common wealth. truly their reason was good, for the Prince that leadeth a good life, is the heart of the common wealth. But I do not marvel that the Emperor was so well willed, and beloved of the roman empire, for he had never porter to his chamber, but the .2. hours which he remained with his wife Faustine. All this being past, the good Emperor went into his house into the secretest place he had (according to the council of Lucius Seneca) they key whereof he alone had in his custody, and never trusted any man therewith, until the hour of his death: and then he gave it to an old ancient man called Pompeianus, saying unto him these words. Thou knowest right well Pompeianus, that thou being base, I exalted the to honour. Thou being poor. I gave the riches. Thou being persecuted, I drew the to my pallas. I being absent, committed my hole honour to thy trust, thou being old, I married the with my daughter, and do presently give the this key. Behold that in giving the it, I give the my heart & life. For I will thou know, that death grieveth me not so much, nor the loss of my wife and children, as that I cannot carry my books into the grave. If the Gods had given me the choice, I had rather choose to be in the grave environed with books: then to live accompanied with fools: for if the dead do read. I take them to be alive: but if the living do not read, I take them to be dead.  
Under this key which I give thee, remaineth many Greek. Hebrew, latin, and Roman books, and above all under this key remaineth all my pains, sweat, and travails, all my watchings, and labours, where also thou shalt find books by me compiled: so that though the worms of the earth do eat my body: yet men shall find my heart hole amongst these books.  
Once again I do require thee, and say that thou oughtest not a little to esteem the key which I give thee: for wise men at the hour of their death, always recommed that which they best love, to them which in their lives they have most loved. I do confess, that in my study thou shalt find many things with mine own hand written and well ordered: and also I confess that thou shalt find many things by me left unpersit. In this case I think that though thou couldst not write them, yet thou shalt work them well notwithstanding: and by these means thou shalt get reward of the Gods for working them. Consider Pompeian, that I have been thy lord, I have been thy father in law, I have been thy father, I have been thy advocate, and above all, that I have been thy special friend, which is most of all: for a man ought to esteem more a faithful friend, than all the parents of the world. Therefore in the faith of that friendship I require, that thou keep this in memory, that even as I have recommended to others my wife, my children, my goods, and riches: So I do leave unto the in singular recommendation my honour: For princes leave of themselves no greater memory, then by the good learning that they have written. I have been .18. years emperor of rome, and it is lx and iii years that I have remained in this woeful life, during which time I have overcome many battles, I have slain many pirates, I have exalted many good, I have punished many evil, I have won many realms, & I have destroyed many tyrants. But what shall I do, woeful man that I am, sith all my companions which were witnesses with me of all these worthy feats, shallbe my companions in the grave with the greedy worms? A thousand years hence, when those that are now alive shall then be dead: what is he that shall say, I saw Marcus Aurelius triumph over the Parthians, I saw him make the buildings in Auentino, I saw him well-beloved of the people, I saw him father of the orphans, I saw him the scourg of tyrants: truly if all these things had not been declared by my books, or of my friends, the dead would never have risen again to have declared them. What is it for to see a prince (from the time he is borne, until the time he come to die) to see the poverty he passeth, the perils he endureth, the evil that he suffereth, the shame that he dissembleth, the petition that he feigneth, the tears which he sheaddeth, that sighs that he fetchith. the promises that he maketh, and doth not endure for any other cause the mysteries of this life: but only to leave a memory of him after his death? There is no prince in the world that desireth not to keep a good house, to keep a good table, to apparel himself richly, & to pay those that serve him in his house: but by this vain honour, they suffer the water to pass through their lips not drinking thereof. As one that hath proved it, it is reason that I be beloved in this case, and that is: that the intent of princes to conquer strange Realms, and to permit their own to suffer wrongs is for no other thing, but because that the commendations which they speak of the princes past, they should likewise talk the same of them that be to come. Concluding therefore my mind, and declaring my intention, I say that the Prince that is noble, and desireth to leave of himself some fame, let him consider and see what it is that those can write of him, which writ his history: for it profiteth little that he achieve great affairs by the sword, if there be no writer to set them fourth with the pen, and afterwards to exalt them with the tongue.  
These words thus spoken by the noble Emperor Marcus Aurelius, he gave the key of his study to the honourable old man Pompeianus, that took all the writings, and put them in the high Capitol, where the Romans honoured them, as the christians the holy Scriptures: all these writings besides many others perished in rome, when by the Barbarous it was destroyed. For the Goths, (utterly to extinguish the name of rome) destroyed not only the walls thereof, but also the books that were therein: and truly in this case the Goothes showed more cruelty to the Romans, then if they had slain the children of their bodies, or bet down the walls of their Cities. For without doubt the lively letter is a moresewerer witness of renown, that always speaketh: then either the lime, sand, or stone, wherewith fortresses are builded.   

Of the importunate suete of the Empress Faustine, to the Emperor Mark Aureille Concerning the key of his closet. Chap. xiiii.  
We Have declared, how the Emperor Marcus Aurelius had his study in the secretest place of all the palace, and how that he himself did keep the key. It is to be understand, that he would never let his wife, his children, nor any other of his familiar friends come into it, for he said: I had rather suffer that they should take from me my treasures, then that any man should turn the leaves of my books. It chanced, that on a day the Empress Faustine being great with child, importuned the Emperor much by all the means she could, that he would be so favourable unto her, as to give her the key of his study, and it is no marvel: for naturally women despise that which is given them, and lust forth at that is denayed them, Faustine instantly besought him, not once, but many times, not only with fair words, but with abundant tears, alleging unto him these reasons. I have required the sundry times, that thou wouldst give me the key of thy chamber, and thou haste by jesting made frustrate my request, the which thou (my Lord) ought not to have done, considering that I am with child: for oftentimes it chanceth, that that wherefore the husband rejoiceth this day, tomorrow he doth lament. Thou oughtest to remember that I am that Faustine the renowned, the which in thy eyes am the fairest, and of thy tongue have been most commended, of thy parson I was best beloved, and of thy heart I am most desired: then since it is true, that thou hast me so deeply in heart, why then doubtest thou to show me the writings of thy study? Thou dost communicate with me the secrets of the empire, and thou hidest from me the books of thy study. Thou hast given me thy tender heart of flesh, and now thou deniest me thy hard key of iron: now I must needs think that thy love was feigned, that thy words were double, and that thy thoughts were others then they seamed. For if they had been otherwise, it had been unpossible thou shouldest have denaied me the key that I do ask thee: for where love is unfeigned, though the request be merrily asked, yet it is willingly granted. It is a comen custom, that you men use to deceive us simple women, you present us great gifts, you give many fair words, you make us fair promises, you say you will do marvels, but in the end you do nothing but deceive us: for we are persecuted more of you, then of any others. When men in such wise importune the women if the women had power to denay and withstand, we should in short space bring ye under the yoke, and lead you by the noses: but when we suffer ourselves to be overcome, than you begin to forsake us, and despise us. Let me therefore (my Lord) see thy chamber, consider I am with child, and that I die unless I see it. If thou dost not to do me pleasure, yet do it at the least because I may no more importune the. For if I come in danger thorough this my longing I shall but lose my life but thou shalt lose the child that should be borne, and the mother also that ought to bear it. I know not why thou shouldest put thy noble heart into such a dangerous fortune, whereby both thou and I at one time should perish: I in dying so young, and thou in losing so loving a wife.  
By the immortal gods I do beseech thee, and by the mother Berecinthia I conjure thee, that thou give me the key, or that thou let me enter into the study: and stick not with me thy wife in this my small request, but change thy opinion: for all that which without consideration is ordained, by importunate sewte may be revoked. We see daily that men by reading in books love their children, but I never saw heart of man fall in such sort, that by reading and looking in books he should despise his children: for in the end books are by the words of others made: but children are with their own proper blood begotten. Before that any thing of wisdom is begun, they always regard the inconveniences that may follow. Therefore if thou wilt not give me this key, and that thou art determined to be stoberne still in thy will, thou shalt lose thy Faustine, thou shalt lose so loving a wife, thou shalt lose the creature werwith she is big, thou shalt lose the authority of thy palace, thou shalt give occasion to all Rome to speak of the wickedness, and this grief shall never depart from thy heart: for the heart shall never be comforted, that knoweth that he only is the occasion of his own grief. If the Gods do suffer it by their secret judgements, and if my woeful mishaps deserve it, and if thou (my Lord) desirest it for no other cause, but even to do after thy will, for denayeng me this key, I should die: I would willingly die. But of that I think thou wilt repent: for it chanceth oftentimes to wisemen, that when remedy is gone, the repentance cometh suddenly. And then it is to late (as they say) to shut the stable door, when the stead is stolen.  
I marvel much at the my Lord, why thou shouldest show thyself so froward in this case, since thou knowest that all the time we have been togethers, thy will and mine hath always been one, if thou wilt not give me thy key, for that I am thy well-beloved Faustine, if thou wilt not let me have it, sins I am thy dear beloved wife, if thou wilt not give it me, for that I am great with child. I beseech the give it me in virtue of the ancient law. For thou knowest it is an inviolate law among the Romans, that a man cannot denay his wife with child her desires. I have seen sundry times with mine eyes, many women sew their husbands at the law in this behalf: and thou Lord commandest that a man should not break the privileges of women.  
Then if this thing be true (as it is true in dead) why wilt thou that the laws of strange children should be kept, and that they should be broken to thine own children? Speaking according to the reverence that I own unto thee, though thou wouldst, I will not, though thou dost it, I will not agree thereunto, and though thou dost command it, in this case I will not obey the. For if the husband do not accept the just request of his wife, the wife is not bound to obey the unjust commandment of her husband. You husbands desire that your wives should serve you, you desire that your wives should obey you in all, and ye will condescend to nothing that they desire. Ye men say, that we women have no certainty in our love, but in dead you have no love at all. For by this it appeareth, that you love is feigned, in that it no longer continueth then your desires are satisfied. You say furthermore, that the women are suspytious, and that is true in you all, men may see, and not in us: for none other cause there are so many evil married in Rome, but because their husbands have of them such jewel opinions. There is a great difference between the suspicion of the woman, and the jealousy of the man: for if a man will understand the suspicion of the woman, it is no other thing, but to show to her husband that she loveth him with all her heart. For the innocent women know no others, desire no others but their husbands only, and they would that their husbands should know none others, nor search for any others, nor love any others, nor will any others, but them only: for the heart that is bent to love one only, would not that into that house should enter any other.  
But you men know so many means, and use so many subtleties, that you praise yourselves for to offend them, you vaunt yourselves to deceive them, and that it is true, a man can in nothing so much show his nobleness, as to sustain and favour a Cortisan.  
The husbands pleaseth their wives speaking unto them some merry words, and immediately their backs being turned, to another they give both their bodies and their good. I swore unto thee (my Lord) that if women had the liberty and authority over men, as men have over women: they should find more malice, dysceiptfulnes, and craft, by them committed in one day, than they should find in the women all the days of their life. You men say that women are evil speakers, it is true in deed that your tongues are none other, but the stings of serpents: for ye do condemn the good men, and defame the Roman women. And think not (if you speak evil of other women) to excuse your own: for the man that by his tongue dyshonereth strange women, doth not so much jewel, as he doth by defaming his own wife by suspicion. For the husband that suspectith his wife, giveth all men licence to account her for nought. Sith we women go little out of the house, we travail not far, and sith we see few things, though we would we cannot be evil tongued: but you men hear much, you see much, you know much, you wander abroad much, and continually you murmur. All the evil that we silly women can do, is to listen to our friends when they are vexed, to chide our servants when they are negligent, to envy our neighbours if they be fair, and to curse those that doth us injury: finally though we speak evil, we cannot murmur, but at those that dwelleth in the same street where we dwell. But you men defame your wives by suspicion, you dishonour your neighbours in your words, you speak against strangers with cruelty, you neither keep faith nor promise to your wives, you show yourselves extreme against your enemies, you murmur both at those that be present, and also at them that be absent: finally on the one part you are so double, and on the other part you are so unthankful, that to those whom you desire, you make fair promises, & those whose bodies you have enjoyed, you little esteem. I confess that the woman is not so good as she ought to be, and that it is necessary that she should be kept in the house, and so she shall lead a good life, and being of good life, she shall have good renown, and having good renown, she shallbe well willed: but if perchance any of those do want in her, yet for all that she ought not to be rejected of her husband. For the frailness that men find in women is but little: but the evils that women taste in men is very great. I have talked longer than I thought, and have said more boldly than I ought, but pardon me (my lord) for mine intention was not to vex thee, but to persuade the. For in the end he is a fool that taketh that for injury, which passeth between the man and the wife in secret. I stick always to my first point, and if it need, once again I require the that thou wilt give me the key of thy study: & if thou do otherwise (as thou mayst) thou shalt do such a thing, as thou oughtest not to do. I am not angry so much for that thou dost, as for the occasion thou givest me.  
Therefore to avoid the peril of my delivery, and to take from me all susspition, I pray thee (my lord) deliver me the key of thy study: for otherwise I cannot be persuaded in my heart, but that you have a woman locked in your study. For men that in their youth have been unconstant, though the apparel that they have be not worn: yet notwithstanding they desire to have new. Therefore once again to preserve me from peril in my delivery, and to lighten my heart of this thought, it shallbe well done that you let me enter into your study.   

The answer of the Emperor to Faustine concerning her demand of the key of the study. Chap. xv.  
THe Emperor hearing the words of Faustine, and seeing that she spoke them so earnestly, that she bathed her woeful words with bitter tears determined also to answer her as earnestly, and said unto her these words. Wife Faustine, thou hast told me all that thou wouldst, and I have heard all thy complaint. Therefore I desire the now to have as much patience to here my answer: as I have had pain to hear thy demand. And prepare thy ears to here my words: as I have listened mine to hear thy folly. For in like matter, when the tongue doth apply itself to speak any word, the ears ought immediately to prepare them to hear it, for to make answer. For this is most sure, that he that speaketh what he would, shall here what he would not. Before I tell the what thou art, and what thou oughtest to be, I will first tell what I am, and what I ought to be: For I will thou understand Faustine, that I am so evil, that that the which mine enemies doth report of me, is but a trifle in respect of that which my familiars, & friends would say if they knew me. To the end the prince be good, he ought not to be covetous of tributes, neither proud in commandments, nor unthankful of services, nor to be forgetful of the temples: he ought not to be deaf to here griefs, complaints, & quarrels, nor cruel to orphans, nor yet negligent in affairs. And the man that shall want these vices, shall be both beloved of men, & favoured of the gods. I confess first of all that I have been covetous: For in deed those which with troubles annoy princes lest, & with money serve them most: are of all other men beloved best.  
Secondarily, I confess that I am proud: For there is no prince at this day in the world so brought under, but when fortune is most lowest, he hath his heart very haughty.  
Thirdly, I confess that I am unthankful: for amongst us that are princes, the services that they do unto us are great, and the rewards that we give unto them are little.  
fourth, I do confess that I am an evil founder of temples: or amonngest us princes we do not sacrifice unto the gods very oft, unless it be when we see ourselves to be environed with enemies.  
Fiftly, I confess that I am negligent to hear the plaints of the oppressed: for flatterers have towards their princes more easy audience by their flattery, than the poor, pleading to declare their complaints by truth.  
Sixtly, I confess that I am careless for the orphans: for in the courts and palaces of princes the rich and mighty are most familiar, but the miserable and poor orphans are scarcely heard.  
Seventhly, I confess that I am negligent in dispatching poor men's causes: for princes oft times, not providing in time for their affairs, many and great perils ensueth to their Realms.  
Mark here faustine, how I have told the what (according to reason) I ought to be, & what according to the sensuality I am: and marvel not though I confess mine error. For the man that acknowledgeth his fault, giveth hope of amendment. Let us now come to talk of thee, and by that I have spoken of me, thou mayest judge of thyself: For we men are so evil conditioned, that we behold the uttermost the offences of an other, but we will not hear the faults of ourselves. It is a true thing, my wife Faustine, that when a woman is merry, she always speaketh more with her ●ong, than she knoweth in her heart: For women light of tongue, speak many things in company, the which they do lament after when they are alone. All the contrary cometh to woeful men, for they do not speak the half of their griefs: because their heavy and woeful hearts commandeth their eyes to weep, and their tongues to be silent. Vain and foolish men, by vain and foolish words do publish their vain and light pleasures: and the wise men, by wise words do dissemble their grievous sorrows. For though they feel the troubles of this life, they dissemble them as men. Amongst the sages he is most wisest, that presumeth to know least: & amongst the simple he is most ignorant, that thinketh to know most. For if there be found one that knoweth much: yet always there is found an other that knoweth more. This is one difference whereby that wise men are known from those that be simple, that is to weet, that the wise man to one that asketh him a question answereth slouly & gravely, and the simple man, though he be not asked, answereth quick & lightly. For in that house where nobleness & wisdom are, they give riches without measure, but they give words by ounces. I have told the all this Faustines, because thy words have wounded me in such sort, thy tears in such wise have compelled me, and thy vain judgements have wearied me so much, that I can not say what I would, nor I think thou canst perceive what I say. Those which wrote of marriage, wrote many things: but they wrote not so many troubles in all their books, as one woman causeth her husband to feel in on day.  
The ancients spoke well when they reasoned of marriages: For at all times when they talked of marriage, at the beginning they put these words, Onus Matrimonij. That is to say, the yoke of marriage. For truly if the man be not well married, all the troubles that may happen unto him in all the time of his life, are but small in respect to be matched one day with an evil wife.  
Dost thou think Faustine, that it is a small trouble for the husband to suffer the brawlings of his wife? to endure her vain words? to bear with her fond words? to give her what she requireth? to seek that she desireth? and to dissemble with all their vanities? truly it is so unpatient a trouble, that I would not desire any greater revengement of my enemy, then to see him married with a brawling wife.  
If the husband be proud, you do humble him: For there is no proud man, what so ever he be, but a fierce woman will make him stoop.  
If the husband be foolish, you restore him his senses again: For there is no greater wisdom in the world, then to know how to endure a brawling woman. If the husband be wild, you make him tame: For the time is so much that you occupy in brawling, that he can have no time to speak. If the husband be slow, you make him run: for he desireth so much your contentation in heart, that the woeful man can not eat in quiet, nor sleep in rest. If the husband be a great talker, in short space you make him dumb: For the flouts and mocks that you give him at every word, are so many in number, that he hath none other remedy but to refrain his tongue. If the husband be suspicious, you make him change his mind: For the tryfelles that you ask at every hour are such, and so many, and you therewith so self-willed, that he dare not tell what he seeth in his own house.  
If the husband be a wanderer abroad, you make him forthwith to be abider at home: for you look so ill to the house and goods, that he findeth no other remedy but to be always at home. If the husband be vicious, you restrain him immediately: for you burden his heart with so many thoughts, that his body hath no delight to use any pleasures. Finally I say that if the husband be peaceable, within short space you make him unquiet: for your pains are such, so many, and so continual, that there is no heart can wholly dissemble them, nor tongue that utterly can keep them secret. Naturally women have in all things the spirit of contradiction, for so much as if the husbands will speak, they will hold their peace. If he go forth, they will tarry at home. If he will laugh, they will weep. If he will take pleasure, they will vex him. If he be sorrowful, they will be merry. If he desire peace, they would have war. If he would eat, they will fast. If he would fast, they would eat. If he would sleep, they will watch: and if thou wilt watch, they will sleep. Finally I say, that they are of so evil a condition, that they love all that we despise: and despise all that we love. In mine opinion, the men that are wise, and will obtain that which they desire of their wives: let them not demand of them that which they would obtain, if they will come to their desire. For to them which are diseased, the letting of blood is most profitable, when the vain in the contrary side is opened. It is no other thing to be let blood in the contrary side, but to ask of the woman with his mouth, the contrary of that which he desireth with his heart: for otherwise, neither by fair words of his mouth, nor by the bitter tears of his eyes, he shall ever obtain that which his heart desireth. I confess Faustine it is a pleasant sport to behold the young Babes, and thou canst not denay me, but it is a cruel torment to endure the importunities of their mothers. Children now and then ministre unto us occasions of pleasures: but you that are their mothers never do any thing, but that which turneth us to trouble. It is much pleasure to the husband when he cometh home to find the house clean swept, to find the table covered, and to find the meat ready dressed: this is to be understanded, if all other things be well. But what shall we say when he seeth the contrary? and that he findeth his children weeping, his neighbours offended, his servants troubled, and above all, when he findeth his wife brawling. Truly it is better to the woeful husband, to go his way fasting: then to tarry and eat at home with brawling. I durst take upon me to cause, that all married men would be content to forbear all the pleasures of the children, with condition that they might be free from the annoyance of the mothers: for in the end, the pleasures of the children endeth quickly with laughter, but the griefs of the mothers endureth all their life with sorrow. I have seen one thing in Rome, wherein I was never deceived, which is, that though men comity great offences in this world, yet God always deferreth the punishment thereof until another: But if for any woman's pleasure we commit any fault, God permitteth, that by the same women, in this world we shall suffer the pain. There is no crueler enemy to man, nor more troublesome to live with all, than the woman is that he keepeth in his house: for if he suffer her once to have her own will, then let him be assured never after to bring her unto obedience. The young men of Rome follow the Ladies of Capua, but they may well repent them: for there was never man that haunted of any long time the company of women, but in the end to their procurement, either by death, or with infamy he was defaced. For the Gods esteem the honour above all things, and as they suffer the wickedness of the evil men: so we see the sharp punishments that they ordain for them. I am well assured Faustine of one thing, and I do not speak it by hear say, but because continually I have proved it, and it is: that the husband which condiscendeth to all that the wife desireth, causeth his wife to do nothing of that her husband commandeth. For there is nothing that keepeth a woman more under obedience to her husband: then when oft times he denieth with sharp words her unlawful request. In my opinion it is much cruelty of the barbarous, to keep (as they do) their wives like slaves: but it is much more folly of the Romans, to keep them (as they do) like Ladies. The flesh ought not to be so lean that it be in eating dry, nor yet so fat that there be no lean: but it would participate both of the fat and of the lean, to the intent it might give the more nourishment. I mean, that the man of understanding ought not to keep his wife so short, that she should seem to be his servant: nor yet to give her so much liberty, that she becometh his mistress. For the husband that suffereth his wife to command more than she ought, is the cause why he himself afterwards is not esteemed as he should be. Behold Faustine, you women are in all things so extreme, that for a little favour you wax proud: and for a little displeasure you become great enemies. There is no woman that willingly can suffer to have any superior, nor yet scarcely can endure to have any equal: for we see that you love not the highest, nor desire to be loved of the lowest. For where as the lovers be not equal, there their love can not be perfit. I know well Faustine that thou dost not understand me, therefore hearken what I do tell thee, more than thou thinkest, and more than thou wouldst. O what and how many women have I seen in Rome, the which though they had two thousand pound of rent in their houses, yet they had three thousand follies in their heads: and the worst of all is, that oftentimes her husband dieth, and she looseth her rent, yet for all that ceaseth not her folly. Now listen Faustine, and I will tell thee more. All women will speak, and they will that others be silent. All will command, and will not that they be commanded. All will have liberty, and they will that all be captives to them. All will govern, and will not be governed. Finally they all in this one thing agree, and that is that they will cherish them that they love, and revenge them of those that they hate. Of that which before is said it may be gathered, that they make fools and slaves of the young & vain men which follow them: and persecute the wise men, as enemies that fly them. For in the end where as they love us most, their love may be measured: but where as they hate us least, their hate exceedeth reason. In the Annals of Pompeius I remember I have red, & do note one thing worthy of knowledge, that when Pompeius the great passed first into Asia, as by chance he came by the mountains of Rypheos, he found in those places a Barbarous nation, that lived in the sharp mountains as wild beasts: and do not marvel that I do call them beastly, that live in those mountains. For as the sheep & cows that feed on the fine grass, have their wool soft and fine: so the men which are brought up in the sharp & wild mountains, use themselves after a rude behaviour. These Barbarous had therefore a law among them, that every neighbour had in those mountains two caves: for the sharpness of the hills permitted not that they should have any houses. Therefore in one cave, the husbands, the sons, and the servants were: and in the other, his wife, his daughters, and his handemaydes' abode: they did eat togethers twice in the week, they slept togethers other twice in the week, and all the residue of the time, they were separate the one from the other. The great Pompeius asked them what the cause was why they lived so, sith it was so that in all the world there was never seen nor red such extreme law, nor so strange a custom. The history saith in that place, that an ancient man answered him, saying behold Pompeius, that the gods have given short life unto us that be present, in respect of that which he gave to our fathers that are past: and since we live but forty or fifty years at the uttermost, we desire to enjoy those days in peace: for the life is so short, and our trouble so long, that we have small time to rejoice in peace after we return from the wars. It is true, that amongst you Romans, which enjoy pleasure and richesses, life seemeth to short: but unto us that have toil with poverty, life seemeth to long: For through out all the year we never keep such solemn feasts, as when one passeth out of his life. Consider Pompeius, that if men lived many years, there should be time to laugh & weep, to be good and to be evil, to be poor and to be rich, to be merry and sad, to live in peace and war: but why will men seek contention in their life, since it is so short? In keeping with us (as you do) our own wives, in living we should die, for the nights should pass in hearing their complaints, and the days in suffering their brawlings: but keeping them as we do, we see not their heavy countenance, we hear not the crying of our children, we hear not their grievous complaints, nor listen unto their sorrowful words, neither we are troubled with their importunate suits, and yet the children are nourished in peace, and the father followeth the war: so that they are well, and we are better. This was the answer that this old man gave, at the request of the great Pompeius. Truly Faustine I say, that though we call the Messagetes Barbarous, in this case they know more than the latins. For he that is free from a brawling woman, hath escaped no small pestilence. I ask thee now Faustine, since those barbarous could not agree, nor would not have their wives with them in those sharp mountains, how shall we other agree, and please you that live in these pleasures in Rome? One thing I will tell thee Faustine, and I beseech the Gods that thou mayest understand it, which is. If the beastly motions of the flesh did not force men to will, and also to desire women, I doubt whether there should be any woman in the world beloved or suffered. For though nature giveth them gifts worthy to be beloved: yet they through their small discretion cause themselves to be hated. If the Gods had made this love voluntary, as they made it natural, so that we might have loved as we would and left again at our pleasure: that man ought worthily to have been punished, which for the love of any woman would put his life in danger. The gods have kept this great secret unto themselves, and the misery that they gave unto men is very great: since that unto so weak flesh, he gave so strong a heart, the which doth procure that which doth us harm, and followeth that which we ought to abhor. This is an other secret, that all men know when they offend, but I see no man that seeketh amendment: for I hear all complain of the flesh, and yet I see all like Bochers follow the flesh: and when it can do least good, than it is most greedy. I envy not the Gods living, nor the men that be dead, save only for two things, which be these. First I envy the Gods, because they live without fear of the malicious. secondarily I envy the dead, for that they live without need of women. For women are so corrupt, that they corrupt all: and they be such mortal plagues, that both flesh and heart by them are brought to end. O Faustine, the love of the flesh is so natural to the flesh, that when from you the body flieth in sport, we then leave our hearts engaged to you in earnest. And though reason as reason putteth desire to flight: yet the flesh, as flesh, yieldeth itself as prisoner.   

¶ The Emperor following his matter admonisheth men of the great dangers which ensue unto them by excessive haunting the company of women. And reciteth certain rules for married men, which (if they observe) may cause them to live in peace with their wives. Cap. xvi.  
I Remember that in my youth, as I was of flesh, I trembled for fear of the flesh, with mind never to return again, and I do confess that oft times I revolved in my heart, many holy and chaste meditations: but yet notwithstanding I gave my body immediately to sundry filthy vices. It is a natural thing, that when man hath committeth any vice, forthwith he repenteth him of his deed: and so again after his new repentance, he turneth to his old vices. For during the time that we live in the house of this frail flesh, Sensuality beareth so great a rule, that she will not suffer reason to enter in at the gate. There is no man in Rome, (if a man doth ask him) but will marvel to declare with his tongue the thoughts that he hath had in his heart, in especially to be chaste, to be true, to be patient, & to be virtuous: and peradventure ye talk with those that somewhat communicate with them, & let a man inquire of his neighbours, they shall find that he is a deceiver, a liar, and a blasphemer. Finally, they deceive men by their fair words, & offended the gods by their evil works. It profiteth little to blaze virtues with words, if the hand be negligent to work them in deed: for a man is not called just, only desiring to be good in name, but for to labour to be virtuous in works. The traitorous world in no one thing beguileth worldlings so much, as by feeding them with vain hope, saying that they shall have time enough to be virtuous: so that these blind men, when they are once deeply rooted in vices, & whiles they hope for this light of amendment, then suddenly assaulteth them the dreadful dart of death. Oh how many have promised unto men, & vowed unto the gods, & determined with themselves, that before so many days they would begin to be virtuous: whom in short space after we have seen to engage themselves to the hungry worms of the earth. The gods will that we be virtuous: & for the contrary the world and the flesh willeth that we be vicious. Me thinketh that it is better to obey the gods, then to do that the world & the flesh desireth: for the praise of virtue is honour, & the pain of vice is infamy. If thou dost consider Faustine, thou shalt see that the gods are on the one part, which procureth us to virtues: and on the other part is the world, & the flesh, which enticeth us unto vices. My opinion is we should say unto the gods, that we desire to be virtuous, & that we should say to the world & the flesh, that from henceforth we will give ourselves no more to be vicious. We ought in such case to satisfy the gods with works, & to entertain the world, & the flesh with words: that we employ so much time in leading a good life, that we have no time vacant to speak an idle word. I let the wit Faustine, that all that I have told thee, I have spoken it against myself: for always from my youth I had a good mind, & yet for all that I have been overthrown with vices. Oh how many times in my youth I knew women, I accompanied with women, I talked with women, & believed women, that which in the end have deceived me, misused me, & defamed me. At the last I withdrew myself & forsook them, but I do confess, that if reason kept me from their houses ten days, sensuality kept me with them ten weeks. Oh cruel gods, oh wicked world, oh frail flesh, tell me what it meaneth, that reason leadeth me vountarily to virtues, & that sensuality against my will draweth me unto vices? Dost thou not think Faustine, that I consider what a great good it is for to be good, & what an evil it is to be evil? But what shall I do, woeful man, since at this day there is not so cruel a scourge of my honour, nor so great an enemy of my renown, as mine own flesh is,, the which against me doth make such cruel wars. Wherefore I beseech the immortal gods, sith my being here is against my will, that they do defend me in this so cruel war. The frail flesh is somewhat to blame, but much more is the foolish and light woman in fault. For if men were certain that women were chaste, shamefast, and solitary, they would not dispose their hearts, their bodies, nor bend their bows to shoot at their butts: they would not consume their time to follow them, lose their goods to serve them, neither would they suffer so many shames to slander them. For where the heart hath no hope to obtain, there he will give over his suit. But what shall we do now Faustine (I pray thee tell me) since thou knowest better than I, that the shame of the Roman women is now gone, and the women of Italy are so dissolute: that though men do not regard them, yet they do entice them. If men fly, they call them: If men go back, they approach: If men are sad, they make them merry: If men are silent, they force them to speak: and finally men begin the love in sport, and they temper it in such sort, that they turn it all into earnest. I let thee wit Faustine, that the means whereby nature worketh in man is very strange: but the shame which the Gods put in women is more marvelous. And if it be true, (as it is true in deed) that the men do lose the sting of the flesh, and that the women do not lose the shame of the visage: I think it is impossible that there should be a chaste or virtuous woman in Rome. For there is no common wealth more undone, then that where the women have lost their shame. O women, what reason have they which fly form you, which are weary of you, which forsake you, which forget you, which make themselves strangers, and furthermore which are dead and buried. For the hungry worms gnaw in the grave only the frail and slimy flesh of the dead: but you women destroy the goods, honour, and life of the living. Oh if the noble hearts knew what evil doth follow them, for dallieng with women: I swear unto them, that they would not serve them continually as they do serve them: but also they would have no lust nor desire to behold them. What wilt thou I say any more to thee Faustine, but that some scape out of your hands for effeminate and slandered, others hurt by your tongues, others persecuted with your works, other deceived with your countenances, others despised through your hatred, others desperate through your inconstancy, others condemned by your light judgements, others troubled through your unkindness, finally those that escape best, are of your hearts abhorred, and through your folly destroyed. Then since the man knoweth that he must pass all those dangers, I can not tell what fool he is, that will either love or serve you. For the brute beast that once hath felt the sharp teeth of the dog, will unwillingly ever after come near unto the stake. Oh unto what perils doth he offer himself, which continually doth haunt the company of women. For as much as if he love them not, they despise him, and take him for a fool. If he doth love them, they account him for light. If he forsake them they esteem him for no body. If he follow them, he is accounted lost.  
If he serve them, they do not regard him. If he do not serve them, they despise him If he will have them, they will not. If he will not, they persecute him. If he do advance himself forth, they call him importunate. If he fly, they say he is a coward. If he speak, they say he is a bragger. If he hold his peace, they say he is a dissarde. If he laugh, they say he is a fool. If he laugh not, they say he is solemn. If he giveth them any thing, they say it is little worth: & he that giveth them nothing, he is a pinchpurse. Finally he that haunteth them, is by them slandered: and he that doth not frequent them, is esteemed less than a man. These things so seen, so hard, and so known, what shall the poor and miserable man do, inespecially if he be a man of understanding? For though he would absent himself from women, the flesh doth not give him licence: & though he would follow women, wisdom will not condescend. Some men think in all their thoughts, that by services and pleasures they may content women. But I let them know, if they know it not, that the woman is never contented though man doth what he can as maid, & that he do all that he ought to do as a husband: though he taketh pains for her sake above his force, & though with the sweat of his brows he releaveth her need: though every hour he putteth himself in danger, ye in the end she will give him no thanks: but will say that he loveth an other, & that he doth but that to please and satisfy her. It is a long time since I desired to tell thee this Faustines, but I have deferred it until this present hour, hoping thou wouldst not give occasion to tell it thee. For among wise men those words ought chief to be esteemed, which fitly to the purpose are declared. I remember that it is six years since Antonius Pius (thy father) chose me to be his son in law, and that thou choosest me for thy husband, & I thee for my wife: all the which things were done, my woeful adventures permitting it, & Adrian my lord commanding it. The good Antonius Pius gave his only daughter in marriage unto me, and gave me likewise his noble Empire with great treasures: he gave me also the gardens of Vulcanali to pass the time therein. But I think that on both sides we were deceived. He in choosing me for his son in law, & I in taking thee for my wife. O Faustine, thy father and my father in law was called Antonius Pius, because to all he was merciful, save only to me to whom he was most cruel: for with a little flesh he gave me many bones. And I confess the truth unto thee, that now I have no more teeth to bite, nor heat in my stomach to digeaste: and the worst of all is, that many times I have thought to rage on myself. I will tell thee one word, though it doth displease thee, which is, that for thy beauty thou art desired of many: and for thy evil conditions thou art despised of all. For the fair women are like unto the golden pylles: the which in sight are very pleasant, and in eating very noisome. Thou knowest well Faustine and I also, that we saw on a day Drusio, and Braxille his wife, which were our neighbours, and as they were brawling togethers, I spoke unto Drusio such words: what meaneth this lord Drusio? that being now the feast of Berecinthia, and being as we are adjoining to her house, and present before so honourable assembly, and furthermore thy wife being so fair as she is, how is it possible there should be any strife between you? Men which are married to deformed persons, to the end that they might kill them quickly, should always fall out with their wives: but those that are married to fair women, they ought always to live togethers in joy and pleasure, to the end they may live long. For when a fair woman dieth, though she have lived a hundredth years, yer she dieth to soon: and though a deformed woman liveth a small time, yet not withstanding she dieth to late Drusio as a man being vexed, lifting up his eyes into the heavens, fetching a grievous sigh from the bottom of his heart said these words. The mother Berecinthia pardon me, and her holy house also, and all the company besides forgive me, for by the immortal Gods I swear unto thee, that I had rather have been married with a Moor of Called that is so foul, then being married as I am, with a Roman being very fair: for she is not so fair and white as my life is woeful and black. Thou knowest well Faustine that when Drusio spoke these words, I did wipe the tears from his eyes, and I gave him a word in his ear that he should proceed no further in this matter: for such women ought to be chastened in secret, and afterwards to be honoured openly O thou art infortunate Faustine: and the Gods have evil divided with the giving the beauty and riches to undo thyself: and denayeng thee the best, which is wisdom and good conditions to keep thy honour, Oh what evil luck cometh unto a man, when God sendeth him a fair daughter, unless furthermore the gods do permit that she be sage, and honest: for the woman which is young, foolish, and fair, destroyeth the common wealth, and defameth all her parentage. I say unto the again Faustine, that the Gods were very cruel against thee, since they swallow the up by the gulfs, where all the evil perisheth: and took from the all the sails and owers, whereby the good do escape. I remained xxxviii. years unmarried, and these vi. years only which I have been married, me thinketh I have passed vi. hundredth years of my life: for nothing can be called a torment, but the evil that man doth suffer that is evil married. I will ensuer the of one thing Faustine, that if I had known before, which now I know, and that I had felt that which now I feel, though the gods had commanded me and the emperor Adrian my Lord desired me, I had not changed my poverty for thy riches, neither my rest for thy Empire: but since it is fallen to thine and mine evil fortune, I am contented to speak little, and to suffer much. I have so much dissembled with the Faustines, that I can no more: but I confess unto thee, that no husband doth suffer his wife so much, but that he is bound to suffer her more, considering that he is a man & that she is a woman. For the man which willingly goeth into the briars, must think before to endure the pricks. The woman is to bold that doth contend with her husband: but the husband is more fool which openly quarreleth with his wife. For if she be good, he ought to favour her to the end she may be better: if she be unhappy, he ought to suffer her to th'end she be not worse. truly when the woman thinketh that her husband taketh her for evil, it is a great occasion to make her to be worse: for women are so ambitious, that those which commonly are evil, will make us believe that they are better than others. Believe me Faustine, that if the fear of the gods, the infamy of the person, and the speech of men do not refrain the woman, all the chastisements of the world will not make her refrain from vice: for all things suffereth chastisement and correction, the woman only except, the which must be won by entreaty. The heart of the man is very noble, and that of the woman very delicate: because for a little good he will give a great reward, and for a great offence he will give no punishment. Before the wise man marrieth, let him beware what he doth: and when he shall determine to take the company of a woman, he ought to be like unto him that entereth into the war, that determineth with himself to suffer all that may happen, be it good or evil. I do not call that life a war without a cause, which the evil married man leadeth in his house: for women do more hurt with their tongues, than the enemies do with their sword. It is a great simplicity for a wise man to make account, or esteem the simplicity of his wife at every time: for if they would mark, and take heed to that which their wife doth, or saith, I let them know that they shall never come to an end. O Faustine, if the Roman woman would always one thing, that they would procure one thing, that they would be resolved in one thing, though it were to our great charges we would have pleasure to condescend unto their desires: but what shall we do, sins that which now pleaseth you, a while after dipleaseth you, that which you ask for in the morning, ye will not have at none, that which you enjoy at none days, do trouble you in the night, that which in the night you love, ye care not for in the morning, that which yesterday ye greatly esteemed, to day ye as much despise. If ye desired to see a thing the last year, this year ye will not hear talk of it, that which before made you to rejoice, doth now make you to be sad, that which ye were wont and aught to lament, at the self same thing a man seeth you laugh. Finally ye women are as children, which are appeased with an apple, and casteth the gold to the earth not weighing it. I have divers times thought with myself, if I could say or write any good rule, in keeping the which, I might teach men to be quiet in their house. And by my count I find (having experimented it also with the Faustines) that it is unpossible to give a rule to married men: and if a man could give them, they should scarcely profit therewith, sins their wives live without rule. But notwithstanding that, I will declare some rules how the married folks should keep themselves in their houses: and how they shall (if they list) avoid strifes and debates between them. For the husbands and the wives having wars together, it is impossible there should be peace in the common wealth. And though this present writing hath not profited me, unluckey and unfortunate man: yet it may profit others which have good wives. For oft times the medycen which profiteth not for the tender eyes, sufficeth to heal the hard heals. I know well Faustine, that for that I have said, and for that I will say unto thee, thou and others such like shall greatly envy me. Ye will mark the words that I speak, more than the intention that I mean: but I protest before the Gods, that in this case my end is for none other intent, but to advertise the good, whereof there are a great many: and to punish the evil, which are many more. And though perchance neither the one nor the other will believe, that my intention in speaking these things was good: yet therefore I will not cease to know the good from the evil, and to choose the evil from the good. For in my fantasy the good wife is as the feasaunt, whose feathers we little esteem, and regard much the body: but the evil woman is as the Marten, whose skin we greatly esteem, and utterly despise the flesh. I will therefore declare the rules whereby the husbands may live in peace with their own proper wives.  

The Rules are these.  
THe first, the husband must needs have patience and suffer his wife when she is displeased: for in Libya there is no serpent so spiteful as an evil woman when she is vexed.  
The second, the husband ought to provide for his wife (according to his ability) all that is necessary for her, as well for her person, as for her house: for oft times it chanceth, that women seeking things necessary, find things superfluous, and not very honest.  
The third, the husband ought to provide that his wife do keep good company: for women oft times are more troubled, with the words that their evil neighbours speak against them, then for any occasion that their husbands give them.  
The fourth, that the husband ought to use a mean, that his wife be not to much a subject, nor that she stray to much abroad: for the woman that gaddeth much in the streets, both loseth her good name, and spendeth his goods.  
The fifth, the husband ought to take heed that he striveth not so with his wife, that she be brought past shame: for the woman that towards her husband is shameless, hath no respect what dishonesty she committeth.  
The sixth, the husband ought to let his wife understand that he doth trust her: for the woman is of such condition, that that which a wise man would not she should do: she will do soonest, and that wherein she should take pains, she will do nothing.  
The seventh, the husband ought to be circumspect that he do not holy trust his wife with the goods and treasures of the house, nor yet utterly distrust her: for if the wife have the charge of the goods of the house, truly she will augment little, and if the husband do suspect her, she will steal much.  
The .8. the husband ought to look upon his wife merrily, & at other times again sadly: for women are of such condition, that when their husbands showeth them a merry countenance they love them, and when they show themselves demure, the fear them.  
The 9 the husband ought (if he be wise) in this to take good advisement, that his wife quarrel not with his neighbours, for we have oft times seen in Rome, that for the quarrel of his wife against his neighbour, the husband hath lost his life, she hath lost her goods, and a slander hath risen throughout the common wealth.  
The 10. the husband ought to be so patient, that if he saw his wife commit any fault, in no wise he should correct her openly, but in secret: for the husband that correcteth his wife before witness, doth as he which spiteth into the element, and the spittle falleth again into his eyes.  
The 11. the husband ought to have much temperance, lest he lay hands on his wife to punish her: for truly the wife that with sharp words doth not amend, with all the chastysementes of the world will never be good.  
The 12. if the husband will be in quiet with his wife, he ought to praise her before his neighbours and strangers: for amongst all other things women have this property, that of all they would be praised, and of none corrected.  
The .13. the husband ought to beware to praise any other than his own wife, she being present: for women are of this condition, that the same day the husband commendeth any other woman, the same day his wife will cast him out of her heart, thinking that he loveth another and despiseth her.  
The .14. the husband ought to make his wife believe that she is fair, though in deed she be foul: for there is between them no greater strife, then to think that her husband forsaketh her for being foul.  
The 15. the husband ought to put his wife in remembrance of the infamy, that they speak of them that be evil in the city: for women are glorious, & because they would be loath that men should talk such thing by them, as they talk of others, peradventure they will refrain from those vices that others commit.  
The 16. the husband ought to take heed that his wife accept no new friends: for through accepting of new friends, there grow commonly between them great dissension.  
The 17. the husband ought to take head that his wife believe, that he loveth not them whom she hateth: for women are of such a condition, that if the husbands loveth all them that they hate, immediately they will hate all those which they love.  
The 18. the husband ought sometime in matters, which are not prejudicial unto him, confess himself to be overcome: for women desire rather to be counted the best in reasoning (though it be of no value) then to have otherwise a greater jewel given them.  
In this sort Faustine I will say no more to thee, but wish that thou shouldest see what I see, and feel what I feel: and above all, that my dissimulation should suffice to amend thy life.    

¶ The Emperor answereth more particularly concerning the Key of his study. Cap. xvii.  
NOw Faustine, since I have the old venom from my heart expelled, I will answer to thy present demand: for unto demands & answers that passeth between the sages, the tongue ought never to speak word, but that first he ask the heart licence. And it is a general rule amongst the physicians, that the medicens do not profit the sick, unless they first take away the oppilations of the stomach. I mean by this, that no man can speak to his friend (as he ought) unless before he showeth what thing grieveth him: for it is better to repair the roufes of the houses that be old, then to go about to build them new.  
Thou requirest me Faustine that I give thee the Key of my study, and thou dost threaten me that if I give it not unto thee, that thou shalt forthwith be delivered. I marvel not at that thou sayest, neither I am abashed of that thou demandest, nor yet of that that thou wouldst do: for you women are very extreme in your desires, very suspicious in your demands, very obstinate in your wills, and as unpatient in your sufferings. I say not without a cause that women are extreme in their desires: for the●e are things whereof women are so desirous, that it is wonder though never living creature saw them, nor hard speak of them. I have not said without a cause that women are suspicious in their demands: for the Roman women are of such a condition, that assoon as a woman desireth any thing, she forthwith commandeth the tongue to ask it, the feet to seek it, the eyes to see it, the hands to feel it, and likewise the heart to love it. I say not without a cause that women are obstinate in their wills: for if a Roman woman beareth any malice to any man, she will not forbear to accuse him for any slander, nor fail to pursue him for any poverty, nor fear to kill him for any justice. I say not without a cause that women are unpatient to suffer: for many are of such condition (I say not all) that if a man give not speedily that which they desire, they change their colour, their eyes look read, their tongues run quick, their voices are sharp, they frete with themselves, they trouble their neighbours abroad, and are so out of order that no man dare speak unto them within. You have this good trade among ye women that under colour of being with child, you will that we husbands grant ye all your desires. When the sacred senate, in the time of the valiant Camillus, made a law in the favour of the Roman Matrons with child, the women at that time longed not so much as they do at this present: but I can not tell what this presently meaneth, that all ye are anointed with that that is good, & that ye are all desirous of that that is evil. I will tell the (Faustine) the occasion why this law was made in Rome, & thereby thou shalt see if thou deservest to enjoy the privilege thereof or no: For the laws are but as yokes under the which the evil doth labour, and they are wings wherewith the good doth fly. The case thereof was such, that Camillus the valiant captain went forth to the wars, he made a solemn vow to the mother Berecinthia, that if the gods gave him the victory, he would offer unto her an Image of silver: and after Camillus wan the victory, & that he would have accomplished his vow to the mother Berecinthia: neither he had any riches, nor Rome had any silver. For at that time, Rome was rich of virtues, and poor of money. And know thou Faustine, that our ancient fathers were devout towards the gods, & curious in repairing the temples, the which they esteemed to be great devotions: & they were in such sort observed of their vows, that neither for sloth, nor poverty, they would obmitte their promises towards their gods. And in these things they were so precise, that they granted to no man any triumph, unless he did swear that he had unto the gods made a vow, & afterward also proved how he performed it.  
At that time flourished in Rome many virtuous Romans, and many greek philosophers, many hardy Captains, and many sumptuous buildings: and above all things, Rome was unpeopeled of malices, and adorned with virtuous Ladies. The Historiographers made (and not without a cause) great account of these virtuous matrons: For the commonne wealth hath as much need of virtuous women, as the wars have of valiant Captains. They being therefore (as they wear) so virtuous and noble Matrons (without the motion of any woman) determined all to go into the high Capitol, & there to offer all their jevelles and treasures that they had, their chains, their rings, their garments, their bracelets, their girdles, their buttons, and hangers of gold, of silver, and precious stones of all sorts with all their tabrets. The Annals of this time say, that after the Roman women had laid so great a multitude of riches, at the feet of the sacred senate, in the name of them all one of them spoke, whose name was called Lucina, & said in this sort. Father's conscript, esteem not much these our jewels, which we give you to make the image of the mother Berecinthia: but esteem much this, that we willingly put in jeopardy our husbands, and children, to win you the victory. And if in this case you accept our poor service, have no respect to the little which we do offer: but to the great which (if we were able) we would give. Truly the Romans, though the treasure which their wives offered was great: Yet notwithstanding they did more esteem the good will wherewith they gave it, than they did the gifts themselves. For there was so much in deed, that sufficed both to make the image of the goddess Berecinthia, and also for a long time to maintain the wars. Therefore from that day that those matrons presented their jewels in the high Capitol, the senate forthwith in remembrance of the gentleness, granted them these five things as a privilege: For at that time Rome never received service, or benefit of any person, but she rewarded it with double payment.  
The first thing that the senate granted the Roman women was, that in the day of their burial, the Orators might openly make orations in the praise of their lives: For in old time men used neither to exalt them when they were dead, nor yet to accompany them to their graves.  
The second thing that was granted them was, that they might sit in the temples: for in the old time when the Romans did offer sacrifices to their gods, the aged did always sit, the priests kneel, the married men did lean, but the women, though they were of noble and high lineage, could neither be suffered to talk, sit nor to lean.  
The third thing that the senate granted the women of Rome was, that every one of them might have ii rich gowns, and that they should not ask the Senate leave to wear them: for in the old time if any women were appareled, or did buy any new gown without asking licence of the Senate, she should immediately lose her Gown, and because her husband did condescend unto the same, he was banished the common wealth.  
The fourth thing which they granted them was, that they should drink wine when they were sick: for there was in Rome a custom inviolable, that though their life was in hazard, they durst not drink wine but water. For when Rome was well corrected, a woman that drunk wine was as much slandered among the people: as if she had committed adultery towards her husband.  
The fift thing granted by the senate unto the women was, that a man might not denay a Roman being with child, any honest and lawful thing that she demanded. I cannot tell why the ancients of Rome esteemed more women with child, than others that had no children.  
All these five things were justly granted to the Matrons, and noble Roman Ladies. And I can tell the Faustines, that they were of the Senate most willingly granted. For it is reason that women which in virtues do excel, should with all means be honoured. I will tell the Faustines the especial cause that moved the Romans to grant unto you Matrons this last privilege: that is to weet, that a man cannot denay them any thing being with child. Thou oughtest to know, that the others (aswell Greeks as latins) did never give laws, nor institutions unto their people, without great occasions: For the great multitude of laws are commonly evil kept, and on the other part are cause of sundry troubles. We cannot denay but that the ancients did well avoid the great number of institutions: For it is better for a man to live as reason commandeth him, then as the law constraineth him. The case therefore was, that in the year of the foundation of Rome .364. Fuluius Torquatus then being Consul, in the war against the Volces, the knights of Mauritania brought to Rome an huge monster with one eye, called Monoculus: which he had found in the deserts of Egypt. At that time the wife of Torquatus called Macrina, should have been delivered of child: for the Consul did leave her great. This Macrina amongst all was so honest, that they spent as much time in Rome to praise her for her virtues: as they did set forth her husband for his victories. They read in the Annalles of that time that the first time that this Consul Torquatus went into Asia, he was eleven years out of his country, and it is found for a truth, that in all the time that Torquatus was absent, his wife was never seen look out at the window, which was not a thing smally esteemed: for though it was a custom in Rome to keep the door shut, it was lawful notwithstanding to speak to women at the windows. Though men at that time were not so bold, & the women were so honest: yet Macrina, wife to Torquatus, lived so close and solitary to herself, that in all these 11. years there was never man that saw her go through Rome, nor that ever saw her door open, neither that she consented at any time (from the time that she was viii. years of age) that any man should enter into her house: & more over, there was never man saw her face wholly uncovered. This Roman Lady did this, to leave of her a memory: & to give example of her virtue. She had also three children, whereof the eldest was but v. years old: and so when they were viii. years of age, immediately she sent them out of her house towards their parents, lest under the colour to visit the children, others should come to visit her. O Faustine, how many have I hard that have lamented this excellent Roman: and what will they think that shall follow her life, Who could presently restraigne a Roman woman from going to the window .11. years, since things now a days are so dissolute, that they do not only desire to see them, but also run in the streets to babble of them? Who should cause now a days a Roman woman, that in the 11. years she should not open her doors, since it is so, that when the husband commanded her to shut one door, she will make the hole house to ring of her voice? He that now would command his wife to tarry at home, and let her of her vagaries into the town, shall perceive that there is no Basilie nor Viper that carrieth such poison in her tail, as she will spit with her tongue. Who could make a Roman women to be 11. years continually without showing her face to any man: since it is so that they spend the most part of their time in looking in a glass, setting their ruffs, brushing their clothes, and painting their faces? who would cause a Roman woman to keep herself, xi years from being visited of her neighbours, and friends, since it is true that now women think them greatest enemies, which visit them most seldom? Returning therefore to the monster, as they led this monster before the door of Torquatus house, she being great with child, & her husband in the war: by chance a maid of his told her how that this monster passed by, wherefore so great a desire took her to see the monster that for to keep that she had begun, suddenly for this desire she died. Truly I tell the Faustines, that this monster had passed many times by the street where she dwelled, & she would never notwithstanding go to the window: and much less go out of her door to see it. The death of this Roman of many was lamented: for it was a long time that Rome had never heard of so honest & virtuous a Roman wherefore at the petition of all the Roman people, and by the commandment of all the sacred senate, they set on he● tomb these verses.  
¶ The worthy Macrine, resteth here in grave  
Whom wise Torquatus, lodged in junos' bed  
Who reked not, a happy life to have  
So that for ay, her honest fame was spread.  
BEhold therefore Faustine, in my opinion, the law was not made to remedy the death of this noble Roman, since she was already dead: but to the end that you Princesses should take example of her life, and that through all Rome there should be a memory of her death. It is reason, since the law was ordained for those women which are honest, that it should be observed in none, but upon those that are virtuous: let the women with child mark the words of the law, which command them to ask things honest. Wherefore I let the know Faustine, that in the seventh table of our laws are written these words. We will that where there is corruption of manners, the man shall not be bound to observe their liberties.   

¶ That princesses and noble women ought not to be ashamed to give their children suck with their own breasts. Cap. xviii.  
ALL noble men, that are of haut courages, watch continually to bring that to effect which they covet, and to keep that which they have: For by strength one cometh to honour, and by wisdom, honour, & life, are both preserved. By these words I mean, that she that hath borne .9. months (through travail) the creature in her womb with so much pain & that afterwards is delivered with so great peril, & by the grace of god from so many dangers escaped, me think it is not well that in this point (which for the nourishment of the babe is most expedient) the mothers should show them so negligent. For that wanteth no folly, that by extreme labour is procured, and with much lightness afterward despised. The things that women naturally desire are infinite, among the which, these are four cheafely.  
The first thing that women desire, is to be very fair: For they had rather be poor and fair, then to be rich and foul.  
The second thing which they desire, is to see themselves married: for until such time as the woman doth see herself married, from the bottom of the heart she always sigheth.  
The third thing that women desire, is to see themselves great with child, & herein they have reason. For until such time as the woman hath had a child, it seemeth that she taketh him more for a lover then for a husband.  
The fourth thing that they desire, is to see themselves delivered, and in this case more than all the rest they have reason: For it is great pity to see in the prime time a young tree laden with blosomes: and afterward the fruit to be destroyed through the abundance of caterpillars. Then since god suffereth that they are borne fair, that they see themselves married, that they be with child, and that they are delivered: why be they so unkind, as to send them out of their houses, to be nourished in other rude cottages? In my opinion the woman that is virtuous, ought assoon as she is delivered, to lift up her eyes, and with her heart to give god thanks for her fruit: For the woman that from her delivery is escaped, aught to account herself as one newly borne. The woman likewise seeing herself delivered of her creature, aught to give it suck with her own breasts, for it is a monstruous thing, that she that hath brought forth the creature out of her own proper womb, should give it to be nourished, of a strange dug, In speaking more plainly (it is all one to me whether she be a noble woman, or a woman of mean condition) I say & affirm, that god hath delivered her of all her travail, she herself ought with her own paps to nourish and give suck to their babes: for nature did not only make women able to bear men, but also besides that provided milk in their breasts, to nourish their children. We have neither red until this present, nor seen, that any beasts (wild or tame) after they had young, would commit them to any other to be nourished. This which I have spoken is not so worthy of noting, as that which I will speak. And it is, that many beasts new borne, before they open their eyes to know their fathers, have now all ready taken nourishment in the teats of their mothers: & more than that, to see some of those little beasts have ten little whealpes, the which without the aid of any others nourished them all with the substance of their own tears, & the woman that hath but one child disdaineth to give it suck. All that shall read this writing shall find it true, & if they will, they may see as I have seen it by experience: that after the she Ape hath had her younglings, she always hath them in her arms so long as they suck, so that oftentimes there is such strife between the male, & the female, which of them shall have the younglings in their arms, that the beholders are enforced to part them with bats. Let us leave the beasts that are in the fields, & talk of the birds that are in the nests: the which do lay eggs to have young, yet have they no milk to bring them up. What thing is so strange to see, as a small bird that hath under her wings v. or vi. little naked birds, the which when she hath hached, she hath neither milk to nourish them, nor corn to give them, they have neither wings to fly, feathers to cover them, nor any other thing to defend them: yet in all this weakness & poverty their mother forsaketh them not, nor committeth them to any other but bringeth them up all herself. That which nature provided for the swans is no less marvelous, in especially when they nourish their young signettes in the water: Forasmuch as during the time that they can not swim, the mothers always in the day are with their young signetts in their nests, and in the night the fathers carry them under their proper wings (to refresh them) unto the water: It is therefore to be thought, since these swans so lovingly bear their younglings under their wings, that they would carry them in their arms if they were men, and also give them suck with their own breasts if they were women Aristotle saith in his fift book De animalibus, that the lions, the bears, the wolves, the Eagles, the griffins, & generally all beasts, never are, were, nor shall be seen so fierce nor so cruel, as when they have younglings, and this thing seemeth to be true: for at that time, we see that many beasts might escape the hunters, yet to save their younglings they turn back & put their proper lives in danger. Plato saith in his book of laws, that the children are never so well-beloved of their mothers, as when they are nourished with their proper breasts, & that their fathers danceth them of their knees. The which thing is true: for the first love, in all things is the truest love. I was willing to show the bringing up of brute beasts, to show the women with child, how pitiful parents they are in nourishing their younglings with their own breasts: & how cruel mother's women are, in committing their children to strangers. It is a marvelous thing to here the mothers say that they love their children, & on the contrary side to see how they hate them. In this case, I cannot tell whether they love more, either the child, or the money: for I see that they covet greatly to hoard up riches into their cheastes, and likewise they desire as much to cast out their children out of their houses. There are diverse reasons whereby the mothers ought to be moved to nourish their children (which they bore in their wombs) with their own proper breasts.  
The first reason is, that the mother ought to have respect how the young babe was borne alone, how little he was, how poor, delicate, naked, tender, & without understanding: and since that the mother brought it forth so weak, & feeble, it is neither meet nor convenient that in time of such necessity she should forsake it, & commit it into the hands of a strange nurse. Let women pardon me, whether they be ladies, brought up in pleasures, or other of meaner estate, accustomed with traveles, I force not: but I say, that those which forsake their children in such extremities, are not pitiful mothers but cruel enemies. If it be cruelty not to clothe him that is naked, who is more naked than the child new borne? if it be cruelty not to comfort the sad, who is more sad, desolate, and sorrowful, than the child which is borne weeping? if it be ungentleness not to succour the poor needy, who is more needy, or more poor than the innocent child newly borne, that knoweth not as yet neither to go, nor to speak? If it be cruelty to do evil to the innocent that cannot speak, who is more innocent than the infant, that can not complain of that which is done unto him? The mother that casteth out of her house the children borne of her own body, how can we believe that she will receive in any other of strangers? when the infant is now great, when he is strong, when he can speak, when he can go, when he can profit himself, and get his meat, the mother maketh much of him, and leadeth him about with her, but is little thank unto her: For then the mother hath more need of the child to be served, than the child hath of the mother to be cherished: If the children were borne of the nails, of the fingers, of the feet, or of the hands, it were a small matter though their mothers sent them forth to nourish: but I cannot tell what heart can endure to suffer this, since the child is borne of their proper entrails, that they do commit it (to be brought up) into the hands of a stranger. Is there peradventure at this day in the world any Lady, that hath so great confidence in any of her friends, parents, or neighbours, that she durst trust any of them with the key of her coffer, wherein her jewels, money, & riches lieth? truly I think none. O unkind mothers, my pen had almost called you cruel stepmothers, since you lay up in your heart the cursed mou●ke of the ground, and send out of your houses that which sprang of your blood. And if women should say unto me that they are weak, feeble, & tender, & that now they have found a good nurse, to this I answer: that the nurse hath small love to the child which she nourisheth, when she seeth the ungentleness of the mother that bore it. For truly she alone doth nourish the child with love, that heretofore hath borne it with pain.  
The second reason is, that it is a thing very just that women should nourish their children, to the end they may be like unto their conditions: For otherwise they are no children, but are enemies: for the child that doth not reverence his mother that bore him, can not enjoy a prosperous life, Since the intention of the parents in bringing up their children is for none other purpose, but to be served of them when they are old: they shall understand, that for this purpose there is nothing more necessary, than the milk of the proper mother: for where the child sucketh the milk of a stranger, it is unlikely that it should have the conditions of the mother. If a kid suck a sheep, they shall perceive it shall have the wool more fair, & the nature more gentle, then if he had sucked a Goat, which hath the wool more hard, & of nature is more wild: wherein the proverb is verified, not from whence thou comest, but whereof thou feedest. It availeth a man much to have a good inclination: but it helpeth him much more from his infancy to be well taught. For in the end we profit more, with the customs wherewith we live, than we do by nature from whence we came.  
The third reason is, that women ought to nourish their own children, because they should be hold mothers, & not unperfect: for the woman is counted but half a mother that beareth it, & likewise half a mother that nourisheth it: but she is the hole mother, that both beareth it, & nourisheth it. After the duty considered unto the father that hath created us, & unto the son that hath redeemed us, me thinketh next we own the greatest duty unto the mother, that hath borne us in her body: and much more it is that we should bear unto her, if she had nourished us with her own breasts. For when the good child shall behold his mother, he ought more to love her because she nourished him with her milk: then because she hath borne him in her body.   

¶ The Author still persuadeth women to give their own children suck. Cap. nineteen.  
IN the year of the foundation of Rome five hundred & two, After the obstinate & cruel war between Rome & Carthage, where the renowned captains were Hannibal for the Carthagians & Scipio for the Romans: soon after that war followed the war of Macedon against king Philip, The which when it was ended, that of Syria began against Antiochus king of Syria. For in .630 years the Romans had always continual wars in Asia, in Africa, or in Europe. The noble Romans sent the consul Cornelius Scipio (brother to the great Scipio the African) for captain of that war. And after many battles, fortune showed her force in a City called Sepila, the which is in Asia the great, where king Antiochus was overcome, and all his realm discomfited: for trees that have their roots plucked up, must needs within short time lose their fruits. After that king Antiochus was overcome & his land spoiled, Cornelius Scipio came unto Rome triumphing, for the victory that he had of Asia: so that as his brother (for the victory that he had of Africa) was called Affricane, so he was called Scipio the Asian, because he vanquished Asia. The captains of Rome loved honour so much, that they would no other reward, nor recompense of their travail, but that they should give them the renown of the realm which they had overcome. Truly they had reason, for the noble hearts ought little to esteem the increase of their riches, & ought greatly to esteem the perpetuity of their good name. As Sextus Cheronensis saith in his third book De ambigua justicia, that Cornelius Scipio had a long time the government of the people, forasmuch as he was consul, censor, and dictator of Rome: for he was not only hardy and courageous, but also he was sage and wise, which thing ought greatly to be esteemed in a man. For Aristotle doth not determine it, which of these two is most excellent: either stoutness to fight in the wars, or policy to rule in peace. Scipio therefore being dictator (which was an office then as the Emperor is now) it chanced that the x. captains which had been with him in the wars, violently fought to have entered into the Monastery of the virgins vestals: wherefore the dictator commanded their heads to be cut of. For the Romans punished more cruelly those, that only required the virgin's vestals: then those that forced the married matrons. Cornelius Scipio was besought of many in Rome, that he would moderate & change his so cruel sentence. And he which most in this case did importune him, was his brother Scipio the African whose prayer was not accepted: how be it in the end they said the captains, were pardoned, by the request of a sister of the said dictator Scipio the African. And because he blamed his brother Scipio, that he had done more for the daughter of his nurse: then for the son of his proper mother, he answered. I let the wit brother, that I take her more for my mother that brought me up, and did not bear me: then she which hath borne me, and in my infancy hath forsaken me. And since I have had her for my true mother, it is but reason that I have this for my dear and well-beloved sister. These were the words which passed between these two brethren. I have diligently red in holy, and profane writings, that many tyrants have caused their own mothers to be killed which bore them: but I could never find that they have done any discourtesy or disobedience, to the nurses which gave them milk. For the cruel tyrants do thirst after the blood of others: but they fear them whose milk they suck,  
The fourth reason that bindeth women to nourish their children is, to keep them in more obedience: for if the fathers live long time, they must of force come into the hands of their children. And let not old fathers make their accounts, saying that during the time that they shall have the government of the house, their children shallbe kept in obedience: for in so doing they might abuse themselves. For young men in their youth, feel not the travails of this life: nor know not as yet, what it meaneth to make provision for household. For to the stomach that is full, and cloyed with eating, all meats seemeth both unsavoury and noisome. It may well be, that since the children are not nourished in the house, that they know not their servants, that they love not their parents, that they come not near their brethren, nor talk with their sisters, that they are ignorant of their fathers, & do disobey their mothers: wherefore since little fear doth abound, and good will fail, one day they commit some mischeavous offence, whereby they do lose their life worthily, and the fathers lose the riches, and likewise their honour deservedly, to the intent that the fathers always keep their proper children under obedience, there is no better mean then to bring them up in their own houses, the mother to give them suck, and the father to teach them: for when the mother desireth any thing of her child, she should not show him the belly from whence he came, but the dugs which he did suck. For all that which is asked us by the milk that we did suck, truly there is no heart so hard that can denay her. The historiographers say that Antipater among all the Grecians, was the most renowned tyrant: and among the Romans Nero. And these two wicked princes were not great tyrants because they had committed many tyrannies: but because they did commit one, which was most grievous of all others. For they do not call a man a glutton, or cormorant, because he eateth every hour, but because he devoureth more at one paste, than others do in one day. The case was, that Antipater in Grece, and Nero in Rome, determined to kill their own mothers. And the historiographers say, that when Nero commanded his mother to be killed, she sent to ask of him why he would put her to death: where unto he answered, that he was cloyed to behold the arms wherein he was nourished, and therefore he caused her to be killed, to see the entrails out of the which he came. This case was so horrible, that it seemed to many not to speak it: but concluding I say, as unjustly as the mothers lost the mortal life: so justly did the children get for them immortal imfamy. Nothing can be more wicked & detestable to the children, then to kill their mothers which did bear them with pain, & did nourish them with love: but notwithstanding all this, we do not read that ever they did kill, dishonour, nor yet disobey their nurses, which gave them milk. junius Rusticus, in the fift book of the bringing up of children saith, that the two Gracchi (renowned & famous Romans) had a third brother being a bastard, who showed himself as valiant & hardy in the wars of Asia: as the other two did in the wars of Africa. The which as he came one day to rome to visit his house, he found therein his mother which bore him, & the nurse which gave him suck. To that which nurse he gave a girdle of gold, & to his own mother he gave a jewel of silver. Of the which things the mother being ashamed, considering what her son had done, she asked him why he had given the norse the gold, which did but only give him suck and that he had not given the girdle of gold to her, as well as the jewel of silver, since she had borne him, and brought him into the world. Whereunto he answered in this manner, marvel not thereat mother why I do this thing, for thou didst bear me but nine months in thy womb, and she hath given me suck and nourished me these three years with her own proper paps: and when thou didst cast me from thee out of thy sight, she received me and nourished me in her proper arms.  
Fifthly, women ought to enforce themselves to nourish their children, to the end they may keep them the better, and that in their cradles they be not changed for others. Aristotle saith, that the Cocowe cometh to the neaste of another bird when she hath laid her eggs, & sucketh them, and layeth in the same place her own eggs: so that the other bird thinking that they are her own, hatchieth and nourisheth them up as her own, until such time as they are able to fly. Then the Cocow killeth, and eateth the silly bird that hath nourished her, through the which occasion the males of those birds, are at so great contention (that they have been so deceived) that the one of them killeth the other the which they might let, if every bird did nourish her own. In the same time that Philip reigned in Macedonia, (which was the father of the great Alexander) Arthebanus was king of the Epirotes, who in his age had a child borne, the which was stolen out of the cradle, and an other put in his stead. The nurse which did nourish it, through covetousness of money consented to that treason: for the heart that is with covetousness overcome, will not fear to commit any treason. It chanced not long after that king Arthebanus died, and left (as he thought) his own son for his heir: but within few days after the nurse herself, which had consented unto the robbery, discovered the theft, and said that she could tell where the lawful child of the good king Arthebanus was, and that that child which now was heir, was but the son of a mean knight: but in deed it had been better for those of the miserable realm, that the woman had never discovered the secret. For it chanceth oftentimes that a man maketh such haste of his horse, that he hurteth his leg, & through that occasion afterwards falleth and breaketh his neck. But what shall we say to the Plebeical women, of base and mean estate (I do not mean the noble, gentle, and virtuous ladies) whereof they are many, that though in great secret their chiefest friend telleth them any thing, yet before they drink they will utter it to another. Thus when the treason was discovered, cruel wars between these two princes began: so that in the end, in a great battle they were both slain, the one in defending, and the other in assaulting. At that time Olimpias reigned, who was the fair and worthy wife of Philip, and mother of Alexander. She had a brother named Alexander, who was both politic, and hardy, and hearing the Epirotes were in controversy, and that two kings were slain in the field, he placed himself in the Realm, more of will, then of right. And let no man marvel, that this king occupied the Realm: for in the old time, all the tyrannous princes thought that all that which they could obtain without resistance: did unto them belong by justice. This king Alexander was he, which came into Italy in the favour of the Tarentines, when they rebelled against the Romans: who afterward was slain in battle at Capua, where his body was unburied. And truly it was a just sentence, that the tyrant which bereaveth many of their lives, should himself taste some shameful death. I have declared this history to this end, that princesses and great ladies should see, that if the wife of king Arthebanus had nourished his son, they could not have rob it in the cradle, nor these two princes had not been slain in battle, nor the common wealth had not been destroyed, nor Alexander had not entered into the land of another, nor had not come to conquer the country of Italy, nor the dead corpse had not wanted his grave: for oftentimes it chanceth, for not quenching a little coal of fire, a whole forest & house is burned. The divine Plato among the Greeks, and Lycurgus among the Lacedæmonians, commanded and ordained in all their laws, that all the Plebeical women, & those of mean estate, should nourish all their children, and that those which were princesses and great ladies, should at the least nourish their eldest and first begotten. plutarch in the book of the reign of princes saith, that the sixth king of the Lacedæmonians was Thomists, the which when he died left two children, of which the second inherited the realm, because the Queen herself had brought it up: and the first did not inherit, because a strange nurse had given it suck, and brought it up. And hereof remained a custom in the most part of the realms of Asia, that the child which was not nourished with the paps of his mother, should inherit none of his mother's goods. There was never, nor never shallbe a mother that had such a son as the mother of God, which had jesus Christ: nor there was never, nor never shallbe a son, which had such a mother in the world. But the infant would never suck other milk, because he would not be bound to call any other mother, nor the mother did give him to nourish to any other mother, because that no other woman should call him son. I do not marvel at all, that princesses and great ladies do give their children forth to nourish: but that which most I marvel at is, that she which hath conceived and brought forth a child, is a shamed to give it suck and to nourish it. I suppose that the ladies do think, that they deserve to conceive them in their wombs, and that they sin in nourishing them in their arms. I can not tell how to write, and much less how to utter that which I would say: which is, that women are now a days come into such folly: that they think and esteem it a state, to have in their arms some little dogs: & they are ashamed to nourish & give the children suck with their own breasts. O cruel mothers, I cannot think that your hearts can be so stony, to endure to see and keep fantastical birds in the cages, unhappy Monkeys in the windows, fisting spaniels between your arms, and so neglect and despise the sweet babes, casting them out of your houses where they were borne, and to put them into a strange place where they are unknown? It is a thing which cannot be in nature, neither that honesty can endure, conscience permit, nor yet consonant either to divine or humane laws, that those which God hath made mothers of children, should make themselves nurses of dogs. junius Rusticus in the third book of the sayings of the ancients saith, that Marcus Porcio whose life and doctrine, was a lantern and example to all the Roman people, as a man much offended, said on a day to the senate. O father's conscript, O cursed Rome, I can not tell what now I should say, sith I have seen in Rome such monstruous things (that is to weet) to see women carry Parrottes on their fists, and to see women to nourish dogs, giving them milk from their own breasts. They replied in the senate and said. Tell us Marcus Porcio what wouldst thou we should do which live now, to resemble our fathers which are dead? Marcus Portio answered them. The woman that presumeth to be a Roman Matron, aught to be found weaving in her house, and out of that to be found in the temple praying to God: and the noble and stout Roman, aught to be found in his house reading books, and out of his house, fight in the plain field for the honour of his country. And sure these were words worthy of such a man: Annius Minutius was a noble Roman, and captain of great Pompeius, who was a great friend to julius Caesar after the battle of Farsaliae: for he was an ancient, and on that could give good council, wherefore he never scaped, but that he was chosen in Rome for Senator, Consul, or Censor every year, for julius Caesar was so merciful to them that he pardoned, that those which had been his most enemies in the wars, were of him in peace best beloved. This Annius Minutius then being chosen Censor within Rome (which was an office having charge of justice) by chance as he went to visit the wife of an other friend of his, the which lay in child bed, (because she had great abundance of milk) he found that a little pretty bitch did suck her, upon the which occasion they say he said these words to the Senate: father's conscript, a present mischief is now at hand according to the token I have seen this day (that is to weet) I have seen a Roman woman deny her own children her milk, and gave to suck to a filthy bitch. And truly Annius had reason to esteem this case as a wonder: for the true and sweet loves are not but between the fathers and children, and where the mother embraceth the brute beast, and forsaketh her natural child which she hath brought forth, it cannot be otherwise, but there either wisdom wanteth, or folly aboundeth: for the fool loveth that he ought to despise, and despiseth that which he ought to love. Yet though the mothers will not give their children suck, they ought to do it for the danger which may come to the health of their persons: for as the women which bring forth children, do live more healthful than those which bear none: so these which do nourish them, have more health, than those which do not nourish them. For although the bringing up of children be troublesome to women, it is profitable for their health. I am ashamed to tell it, but it is more shame for ladies to do it, to see what plasters they put to their breasts to dry up their milk: and hereof cometh the just judgement of God, that in that place oft times where they seek to stop their milk, in the self same place, they themselves procure their sudden death. I ask now, if women do not enjoy their children being young, what pleasure hope they to have of them when they are old. What a great comfort is it for the parents to see the young babe, when he will laugh, how he twincleth his little eyes: when he will weep, how he will hang the pretty lip: when he would speak, how he will make signs with his little fingers: when he will go, how he casteth forward his feet: and above all, when he beginneth to babble, how he doubled in his words. What thing is more pleasant to the father then to see them, and to the mother to agree to it, when the children do suck, they pluck forth the breasts with the one hand, and with the other they pluck their here, and further they beat their feet together, and with their wanton eyes, they cast on their parents a thousand loving looks? what is it to see them when they are vexed and angry, how they will not be taken of the fathers, how they strike their mother: they cast away things of gold, and immediately they are appeased with a little apple or rush? what a thing is it to see the innocentes how they answer when a man asketh them, what follies they speak, when they speak to them, how they play with the dogs and run after the cats, how they dress them in wallowing in the dust, how they make houses of earth in the streets, how they weape after the birds when they see them fly away? All the which things are not to the eyes of the fathers and mothers, but as Nitingales to sing, and as bread and meat to eat. The mothers peradventure will say that they will not bring up their children, because when they are young they are troublesome, but that after they should be nourished and brought up, they would be glad. To this I answer them, that the mothers shall not denay me, but that some of these things must needs meat in their children: that when they be old, they shallbe either proud, envious, covetous, or negligent: that they shallbe lecherous, or else thieves, that they shallbe blasphemers, or else gluttons, that they shallbe rebels, or fools, and disobedient unto their fathers. I believe that at this day there are many mothers in the world, which did hope to be honoured, & served with the children which they had brought up: and afterward perceiving their manners, would willingly forego the pleasures which they hoped for, so that they might also be delivered from the troubles, which through their evil demeanours are like to ensue. For that time which the parents hoped to pass with their children in pleasures, they consume (seeing their unthrifty life) in sorrowful sighs. I council, admonish, & humbly require princesses, & great ladies, to nourish & enjoy their children when they are young and tender: for after that they are great, a man shall bring them news every day of diverse sorts, and manners they use, for as much as the one shall say that her son is in prison, & another shall say that he is sore wounded, another that he is hid, others that he hath played his cloak, others that he is slandered with a common harlot, another that he stealeth his goods from him, another that his enemies do seek him, another that he accompanieth with unthrifts, and finally they are so sturdy, unhappy, and so far from that which is good: that oftentimes the fathers would rejoice to see them die, rather than to see than live so evil a life. Me thinketh that the knot of love between the mother and the child is so great, that not only she ought not to suffer them to be nourished out of the house one whole year: but also she ought not to suffer them to be out of her presence one only day. For in seeing him, she seeth that which is borne of her entrails she seeth that which she hath with so great pains delivered, she seeth him who ought to inherit all her goods, she seeth him in who the memory of their ancestors remaineth: and she seeth him, who after her death ought to have the charge of her affairs and business. Concluding therefore that which above is spoken, I say that which the great plutarch said, from whom I have drawn the most part of this chapter: that the mother (to be a good mother) ought to have & keep her child in her arms to nourish him, and afterwards when he shallbe great, she ought to have him in her heart to help him. For we see oftentimes great evils ensue, to the mother, and to the child, because she did not bring him up herself: and to put him to nourish to a strange breast, there cometh neither honour, nor profit.   

¶ That princesses and great Ladies ought to be very circumspect in choosing their nurses. Of seven properties which a good nurse should have. Chap. xx.  
THose which ordained laws for the people to live were these. Promotheus which gave laws to the Egyptians, Solon Solmon to the Greeks, Moses to the jews, Lycurgus to the Lacedæmonians, and Numa Pompilius to the Romans: for before these princes came, their people were not governed by written laws, but by good ancient customs. The intention of those excellent princes was, not to give laws to their predecessors, for they were now dead: neither they gave them only for those which lived in their time being wicked, but also for those which were to come, whom they did presuppose would not be good. For the more the world increaseth in years, so much the more it is laden with vices. By this that I have spoken I mean, that if the princesses and great ladies, every one of them would nourish their own child, I need not to give them counsel. But since I suppose that the women which shallbe delivered hereafter, willbe as proud, and vain glorious, as those which were in times past: we will not let to declare here some laws and advises how the lady ought to behave herself with her nurse, and how the nurse ought to content herself with the creature. For it is but just, that if the mother be cruel, and hardy to forsake the creature: that she be sage, pitiefull, and advised, to choose her nurse. If a man find great treasure, and afterward care not how to keep it, but doth commit it into the hands of suspected persons: truly we would call him a fool. For that which naturally is beloved, is always of all best kept. The woman ought more wisely keep the treasure of her own body, than the treasure of all the earth if she had it. And the mother which doth the contrary, and that committeth her child to the custody of a strange nurse, not to her whom she thinketh best, but whom she findeth best cheap: we will not call her a foolish beast, (for the name is to unseemly) but we will call her a sot, which is somewhat more honester. One of the things that doth make us most believe that the end of the world is at hand: is to see the little love which the mother doth bear to the child being young, and to see the want of love which the child hath to his mother being aged. That which the child doth to the father and the mother, is the just judgement of God, that even as the father would not nourish the child in his house, being young: so likewise that the son should not suffer the father in his house, he being old. Returning therefore to the matter, that sith the woman doth determine to dry and shut up the fountains of milk, which nature hath given her, she ought to be very diligent to search out a good nurse: the which ought not only to content herself to have her milk whole, but also that she be good of life. For otherwise, the child shall not have so much profit by the milk which he sucketh: as the nurse shall do it harm, if she be a woman of an evil life. I do advise princesses and great dames, that they watch diligently to know what their nurses are, before they commit their children to them: for if such nurses be evil, and slandered, they are as serpents which do bite the mother with their mouth, and do sting the child with her tail. In my opinion it were less evil, the mother should suffer that her child should perish in delivering it: then for to keep in her house an evil woman. For the sorrow of the death of the child, is forgotten and brought to nought in time: but the slander of her house, shall endure as long as she liveth. Sextus Cheronensis sayeth, that the Emperor Marcus Aurelius commanded his son to be brought up of a woman, the which was more fair than virtuous. And when the good Emperor was advertised thereof, he did not only send her from his palace, but also he banished and exiled her from Rome: swearing that if she had not nourished his son with her paps, he would have commanded her to have been torn in pieces with beasts. For the woman of an evil renown, may justly be condemned and put to death. Princesses and great ladies ought not greatly to pass, whether the nurses be fair or foul: for if the milk be sweet, whit, and tender, it little skilleth though the face of the nurse be whit, or black. Sextus Cheronensis saith, in the book of the nurture of children, that even as the black earth is more fertile than is the white earth: so likewise that woman which is brown in countenance, hath always the most substantial milk. Paulus Diaconus in his greatest history sayeth, that the Emperor Adocerus did marry himself with the daughter of an other emperor his predecessor called Zeno, & the Empress was called Arielna. The which in bringing forth a Son, had a woman of hungary marvelous fair to nourish it, & the case succeeded in such sort that the nurse for being fair, had by that emperor iii children the one after the other: & his woeful wife never had any but the first alone. A man ought to believe that the empress Arielna did not only repent herself, for taking into her house so fair a nurse: but also was sorry that ever she had any at all, sith the rybald thereby was mistress in the house, & she remained without husband all her life. I do not say it, for that there are not many foul women vicious, nor yet because there are not many fair women virtuous: but that princesses and great ladies (according to the qualities of their husbands) ought to be profitable and tender nurses, to bring up their children. For in this case there are some men of so weak complexion, that in seeing a little clean water, immediately they die to drink thereof. Let therefore this be the first counsel in chousing nurses, that the nurse before she enter into the house be examined, if she be honest, & virtuous. For it is a trifle whether the nurse be fair or foul: but that she be of a good life, and of an honest behaviour.  
Secondarily, it is necessary that the nurse which nourisheth the child, be not only good in the behaviour of her life: but also it is necessary that she be hole, as touching the bodily health. For it is a rule unfallible, that of the milk which we do suck in our infancy, dependeth all the corporal health of our life A child given to the nurse to nourish▪ is as a tree removed from one place to an other. And if it be so (as in dead it is) it behoveth in all points, that if the earth where in it shallbe new put were no better, that at the lest it be not worse: for this should be a great cruelty, that the mother being hole, strong, and well disposed, should give her child to a lean woman to nurse, which is feeble, sore, and diseased. Princesses and great la●es do chose lean wom●n, weak, and sick, for to nourish their infants. And in that they do fail, it is not for that they would err: but it is because that such feeble and weak nurses (by a vain desire they have to be nurses in a gentilmans house) on the one part they say they will little money, & on the other part they do make great suits. What a thing is it when a princess or a noble woman is delivered of a child, to see the devices of other women among themselves, who shallbe the nurse, and how those the which never nourished their own children, do preserve the milk to nourish the children of others. To procure this thing for women▪ me thinketh it proceedeth of abundance of folly: and to condescend to their requests, me thinketh it is for want of wisdom. They look not always to the manners and ability of the nurse, how apt she is to nurse their child, but how diligent she is in procuring to have it to nourish. They care not greatly whether they be good or no: for if the first be not good, they will take the second, and if the second pleaseth them not, they will have the third, and so upwards until they have found a good nurse. But I let you to wit (you princesses and great ladies) that it is more danger for the children to change diverse mylkes: then unto the old men, to eat diverse meats. We see daily by experience, that without comparison there dieth more children of noble women, than children of women of the meaner estate. And we will not say, that it is for that they do flatter their children more, nor for that the wives of labourers do eat fine meats: but that it chanceth oft times, that the children of a poor woman: doth neither eat, nor drink: but of one kind of meat, or milk in ii years, and the child of a Lady shall change and alter iii nurses in ii months. If princesses and great ladies were circumspect in chousing their nurses, and that they did look whether they were hole without diseases, and honest in their manners, and would not regard so much the importunity of their suits: the mothers should excuse themselves from many sorrows, & the children likewise should be delivered from many diseases. One of the most renowned princes in times past, was Titus the son of vespasian, and brother of Domitian. Lampridius saith, that this good Emperor Titus (the most part of his life) was subject to grievous diseases and infirmities of his person, and the cause was, for that when he was young he was given to a sick nurse to be nourished, so that this good Emperor sucking her dug but a while, was constrained to pass all his life in pain.  
thirdly, Princesses & great Ladies ought to know, and understand the complexion of their children, to the end that according to the same they might seek pitiful nurses, that is to weet, if the child were cholorycke, phlegmatic, sanguine, or melancholy: For look what humour the child is of, of the same quality the milk of the nurse should be. If unto an old corrupted man they ministre medicines, conformable to his diseases for to cure him: why then should not the mother seek a wholesome nurse to the tender babe, agreeable to his complexion, to nourish him: And if thou sayest it is just, that the flesh old and corrupted be sustained: I tell the likewise that it is much more necessary, that the children should be curiously & well nourished, to multiply the world. For in the end we do not say, it is time that the young leave the bread for the aged: but contrary it is time that the old leave the bread for the young. Aristotle in the book De secretis secretorum, & junius Rusticus, in the ten book de gestis Persarum say, that the unfortunate king Darius (who was overcome by Alexander the great) had a daughter of a marvelous beauty. And they say that the nurse which gave suck to this daughter all the time that she did nourish it, did neither eat nor drink any thing but poison: and at the end of iii, years, when the child was weyned, & plucked from the dug, she did eat nothing but Colubers, and other venomous worms. I have heard say many times that the Emperors had a custom, to nourish their heirs, & children with poisons when they were young: to the intent that they should not be hurt by poison, afterward when they were old. And this error cometh of those which presume much, and know little. And therefore I say, that I have heard say, without saying I have read it. For some declare histories, more for that they have heard say of others: then for that they have read themselves. The truth in this case is, that as we use at this present, to were Chains of gold about our necks, or jewels on our fingers, so did the Gentiles in times past a ring on their fingers, or some jewel in their bosom replenished with poison. And because the paynim did neither fear hell, nor hope for heaven, they had that custom, for if at any times in battle they should find themselves in distress, they had rather end their lives with poison, then to receive any injury of their enemies. Then if it were true that those Princes had been nourished with the poison, they would not have carried it about them to have ended their lives. Further I say, that the princes of Persia did use when they had any child borne, to give him milk to suck agreeable to the complexion he had. Since this daughter of Darius was of melancholy humour, they determined to bring her up with venom and poison, because all those which are pure malancolye, do live with sorrow, & die with pleasure. Ingnacius the Venetian in the life of the .v. emperors Palleolus (which were valiant emperors in Constantinople) saith, that the second of the name called Palleolles the hardy, was after the xl years of his age so troubled with infirmities and diseases, that always of the xii months of the year he was in his bed sick ix. months: and being so sick as he was, the affairs and business of the empire were but slenderly done & looked unto. For the prince can not have so small a fever, but the people in the comen wealth must have it double. This Emperor Palleolus had a wife, whose name was Huldovina, the which after she had brought all the Physicians of Asia unto her husband, and that she had ministered unto him all the medecins she could learn to help him, and in the end seeing nothing avail: there came by chance an old woman, a Grecian borne, who presumed to have great knowledge in herbs, and said unto the empress noble Empress Huldovina, If thou wilt that the Emperor thy husband do live long, see that thou chafe, anger, and vex him every week at the least twice: for he is of a pure malancoly humour, and therefore he that doth him pleasure, augmenteth his disease: & he that vexeth him shall prolong his life. The empress Huldovina followed the counsel of this Greek woman, which was occasion that the emperor lived afterwards sound and hole many years: so that of the ix months which he was accustomed to be sick every year: in twenty years afterwards he was not sick iii months. For where as this Greek woman commanded the empress to anger her husband but twice in the week, she accustomeablye angered him four times in the day.  
Fourthly, the good mother ought to take heed, that the nurse be very temperate in eating, so that she should eat little of diverse meats, and of those few dishes she should not eat to much. To understand that thing ye must know, that the white milk is no other than blood, which is sudden, and that which causeth the good or evil blood, cometh oft times of no other thing, but that either the person is temperate, or else a glutton in eating: and therefore it is a thing both healthful and necessary, that the nurse that nourisheth the child do eat good meats: for among men and women it is a general rule, that in little eating, there is no danger: and of to much eating, there is no profit. As all the Philosophers say, the wolf is one of the beasts that devoureth most, and is most gredyest, and therefore he is most feared of all the shepherds. But Aristotle in his third book de Animalibus sayeth, that when the wolf doth once feel herself great with young, in all her life after she never suffereth herself to be couppled with the wolf again: For otherwise, if the wolf should yearly bring forth vii or viii whealpes (as commonly she doth) and the sheep but one lamb, there would be in short space more wolves than sheep. Besides all this the wolf hath an other property, which is, that though she be a beast most devouring and greedy: yet when she hath whealped, she eateth very temperately, and it is to the end to nourish here whealpes, and to have good milk. And besides that she doth eat but once in the day, the which the dog wolf doth provide, both for the byche, and her whealpes. Truly it is a monstruous thing to see, and noisome to hear, and no less slanderous to speak, that a wolf which giveth suck to viii whealpes, eateth but one only kind of meat: and a woman which giveth suck but to one child alone, will eat of eight sorts of meats. And the cause hereof is, that the beast doth not eat, but to sustain nature: and the woman doth not eat, but to satisfy her pleasure.  
Princesses and great Ladies ought to watch narrowly, to know when, and how much the nurses do eat, which do nourish their children: For the child is so tender, and the milk so delicate, that with eating of sundry meats they become corrupt, and with eating much they wax fat. If the children suck those which are fat and gross, they are commonly sick: and if they suck milk corrupted, they oft times go to bed hole, and in the morning be found dead. Isodore in his etymologies saith, that men of the province of Thrace were so cruel, that the one did eat the other, and they did not only this, but also further to show more their immanity, in the skulls of those that were dead, they drank the blood of him that was lately alive. Though men were so cruel to eat men's flesh, and to drink the blood of the veins: yet the women ●hich nourished their children were so temperate, and moderate in eating, tha●●hey did eat nothing but nettelles' sodden and boiled in goats milk. And ●●ause the women of Thrace were so moderate in eating, the philosopher Solon Solynon brought some to Athens: for the ancients sought no less to have good women in the comen wealth, then to have hardy and valiant captains in the war.   

The author addeth iii other conditions to a good nurse that giveth suck: that they drink no wine, that she be honest, and chief that she be well conditioned. Chap. xxi.  
THe Princesses and great ladies may know by this example, what difference there is between the women of Thrace, which are fed with nettles only, and have brought forth such fierce men: and the women of our time, which through their delicate and excessive eating, bring forth such weak and feeble children.  
Fiftly, the Ladies ought to be very circumspect, not only that nurses eat not much, & that they be not greedy: but also that they be in drinking wine temperate, the which in old time was not called wine, but venym. The reason hereof is apparent and manifest enough, for if we do forbid the fat meats which lieth in the stomach: we should then much more forbid the moist wine, which washeth all the veins of the body. And further I say, that as the child hath no other nourishment but the milk only, & that the milk proceedeth of blood, & that blood is nourished of the wine, and that wine is naturally hot: from the first to the last. I say, the woman which drinketh wine, and giveth the child suck, doth as she that maketh a great fire under the pan, where there is but a little milk: so that the pan burneth, and the milk runneth over. I will not denay, but that some times it may chance, that the child shallbe of a strong complexion, and the nurse of a feeble and weak nature: and then the child would more substantial milk, when the women is not able to give it him. In such a case (though with other things milk may be conferred) I allow that the nurse drink a little wine: but it ought to be so little, and so well watered, that it should rather be to take away the unsavorines of the water, then for to taste of any savour of the wine. I do not speak this without a cause, for the nurse being sick, and feeble of herself, and her milk not substantial, it oft times moveth her to eat more than necessity requireth, and to drink wine which is somewhat nutritive: so that they supposing to give the nurse treacle, do give her poison to destroy her child. Those excellent & ancient Romans, if they had been in our time, and that we had deserved to have been in their time (though our time for being Christians is better) they had saved us from this travail, for they were so temperate in eating meats, and so abstinent in drinking wines, that they did not only refrain the drinking thereof, but also they would not abide to smell it. For it was a greater shame unto a Roman woman to drink wine, then to be divorced from her husband. Dionysius Alicarnaseus in his book of the laws of the Romans said, that Romulus was the first founder of Rome, and that he occupied himself more in building houses, to amplify Rome: then in constituting laws, for the government of the comen wealth. But amongst xu laws which he made, the seventh thereof was, that no Roman woman on pain of death should be so hardy to drink wine within the walls of Rome. The same Historian saith, that by the occasion of this law the custom was in Rome, that when any Roman Lady would drink wine, or make any solemn feast, she must needs go out of Rome, where every one had their gardens and dwelling place: because the smell also of wine was prohibited and forhidden women within the circuit of Rome. If Pliny do not deceive us in his xxiiii book of his natural history, It was an ancient custom in Rome, that at each time that parents met, both men and women, they did kiss the one the other in the face, in token of peace: and this ceremony began first, for that they would smell whether the woman had drunk any wine. And if perchance she savoured of wine, the Censor might have banished her from Rome. And if her kinsman found her without Rome, he might freely and without any danger of law put her to death: because within the circuit and walls of Rome, no private man by justice could put any Roman to death. As above is rehearsed, Romulus was he which ordained the pain for drunkards: and Ruptilius was he, which ordained the pain for adulterers. And between Romulus and Ruptilius, there was xxxii years: so that they ordained this straight law for drunkards, a long time before they did the law for adulterers. For if a woman be a dronckarde, or harlot, truly they are both great faults, and I can not tell whether of them is worst: for being a harlot, the woman loseth her name, and for being a dronckard, she loseth her fame, and the husband his goods. Then if women for the honesty of their persons only are bound to be temperate in eating and drinking: the woman which nourisheth & giveth the child suck, aught to be much more corrected, and sober in this case. For in her is concurrante not only the gravity of their persons: but the health and life also of the creature, which she nourisheth. Therefore it is meet, that the nurse be kept from wine, since the honour of the one, and the life of the other is in peril.  
Sixtly the princesses and great Ladies ought to take heed, that their nurses be not gotten with child. And the reason hereof is, that in that time when the woman is with child, her natural course is stopped, and that corruption is mingled with the pure blood: so that she thinking to give the child milk to nourish it, giveth it poison to destroy it. And nothing can be more unjust, then to put the child (which is already borne, and alive) in danger, for that which is as yet unborn, and dead, it is a wonderful thing (for a man that will curiously note and mark things) to see the brute beasts, that all the time they bring up their little ones, they will not consent to accompany with the males, nor the males will follow the females: and that that is most to be noted yet is, to see what passeth between birds: for the she sparrow will not suffer the male in any wise to touch or come near her, till her little ones be great and able to fly, and much less to sit upon any eggs to hatch them till the other be fled and gone, Plurarche in the vii of his regiment of princes saith, that Gneus Fuluius (Cousin germane of Pompeius) being consul in Rome, fell in love with a young maiden of Capua being an orphan, whether he fled for the plague. This maiden was called Sabina, & when she was great with child by this consul, she brought forth a daughter whom they called fair Drusia: and truly she was more commended for her beauty, than for her honesty. For oftentimes it happeneth, that the fair and dishonest women leave their children so evil taught, that of their mothers they inherit little goods, & much dishonour. This Sabina therefore being delivered (as it was the custom of Rome) she did with her own breasts nourish her daughter Drusia: during that which time she was gotten with child, by one of the knights of this Consul, to whom (as to his servant) he had given her to keep. Wherefore when the Consul was hereof advertised, and that notwithstanding she gave her daughter suck: he commanded that the knight should be immediately beheaded, & his lover Sabina forthwith to be cast into a well. The day of execution came that both these parties should suffer, wherefore the woeful Sabina sent to beseech the consul, that it would please him before her death to give her audience of one sole word that she would speak unto him, the which being come, in the presence of them all she said unto him. O Gneus Fuluius, know thou I did not call the to th'end thou shouldest grant me life, but because I would not die before I had seen thy face: though thou of thyself shouldest remember, that as I am a frail woman, and fell into sin with the in Capua: so I might fall now (as I have done) with another in Rome. For we women are so frail in this case, during the time of this our miserable life: that none can keep herself sure, from the assaults of the weak flesh. The consul Gneus Fuluius to these words answered the gods immortal knoweth Sabina, what grief it is to my woeful heart, that I of thy secret offence should be an open scourge. For greater honesty it is for men to hide your frailness: then openly to punish your offences. But what wilt thou I should do in this case, considering the offence thou hast committed? by the immortal gods I swear unto thee, & again I swear, that I had rather thou shouldest secretly have procured the death of some man: then that openly in this wise thou should have slandered my house. For thou knowest the true meaning of the common proverb in rome. It is better to die in honour, then to live in infamy. And think thou not (Sabina) that I do codemne the to die because thou forgotest thy faith unto my person, and that thou gavest thyself to him which kept thee: for sins thou wert not my wife, the liberty thou hadst to come with me from Capua to Rome, the self same thou hadst to go with another from rome to Capua. It is an evil thing for vicious men, to reprove the vices of others, wherein they themselves are faulty. The cause why I condemn the to die, is for the remembrance of the old law the which commandeth, that no nurse or woman giving suck, should on pain of death be begotten with child, truly the law is very just. For honest women do not suffer, that in giving her child suck at her breast, she should hide another in her entrails. These words passed between Gneus Fuluius the consul, and the lady Sabina of Capua. Howbeit as plutarch saith, in that place the consul had pity upon her, & showed her favour, banishing her upon condition, never to return to Rome again. Cinna Catullus in the forth book of the xxii consuls saith, that Caius Fabricus was on of the most notable consuls that ever was in rome, & was sore afflicted with diseases in his life, only because he was nourished four months with the milk of a nurse being great with child: & for fear of this, they locked the nurse with the child in the temple of the vestal virgins, wherefore the space of iii years they were kept. They demanded the consul, why he did not nourish his children in his house? he answered: the children being nourished in the house, it might be an occasion that the nurse should be begotten with child, and so she should destroy the children with her corrupt milk, & further should give me occasion to do justice upon her person: wherefore keeping them so shut up, we are occasion to preserve their life, and also our children from peril. Diodorus Siculus in his library and Sextus Cheronensis saith, in the life of Marcus Aurelius, that in the Isles of Baleares there was a custom, that the nurses of young children (whether they were their own, or others) should be severed from their husbands for the space of ii years. And the woman which at that time (though it were by her husband) were with child though they did not chastise her as an adulteress: yet every man spoke evil of her as of an offender. During the time of these two. years, to the end the husband should take no other wife, they commanded that he should take a concubine, or that he should buy a slave, whose company he might use as his wife: for amongst these barbarous he was honoured most, who had ii wives, the one with child, and tother not. By these examples above recited, Princesses and great Ladies may see, what watch and care they ought to take in chousing their nurses, that they be honest, sins of them dependeth not only the health of their children: but also the good fame of their houses.  
The seventh condition is, that princesses and great Ladies ought to see their nurses have good conditions, so that they be not troublesome, proud, harlots, liars, malicious, nor flatterers: for the viper hath not so much poison, as the woman which is evil conditioned. It little availeth a man to take wine from a woman, to entreat her to eat little, and to withdraw her from her husband, if of her own nature she be hateful, and evil ma●●red: for it is not so great danger unto the child: that the nurse be a dronckard, or a Glutton, as it is if she be harmful, and malicious. If perchance the nurse (that nourisheth the chylle) be evil conditioned: truly she is evil troubled, and the house wherein she dwelleth evil cumbered. For such one doth importune the lord, troubleth the lady, putteth in hazard the child, and above all is not contented with herself. finally fathers for giving to much liberty to their nurses, oftentimes are the cause of many practices which they do: wherewith in the end, they are grieved with the death of their children which followeth. Amongst all these which I have red I say, that of the ancient Roman princes, of so good a father as Drusius Germanicus was, never came so wicked a son as Caligula was, being the fourth Emperor of Rome: for the historiographers were not satisfied to enrich and praise the excellencies of his father, neither ceased they to blame and reprehend the infamyes of his son. And they say, that his naughtiness proceedeth not of the mother which bore him: but of the nurse which gave him suck. For oftimes it chanceth that the tree is green and good, when it is planted, and afterwards it becometh dry, and withered, only for being carried into another place. Dion the greek in the second book of Caesar's sayeth, that a cursed woman of Campania called Pressilla, nourished and gave suck unto this wicked child. She had against all nature of women her breasts as hairy as the beards of men, and besides that, in running a horse, handling her staff, shooting in the Crossbow, few young men in rome were to be compared unto her. It chanced on a time that as she was giving suck to Caligula, for that she was angry, she tore in pieces a young child, & with the blood there of anointed her breasts: and so she made Caligula the young child, to suck together both blood and milk. The said Dion in his book of the life of this Emperor Caligula sayeth, that the women of Campania (whereof the said Prescilla was) had this custom, that when they would give their teat to the child first they did anoint the nipple with the blood of a hedge hog, to the end their children might be more fierce and cruel.  
And so was this Caligula, for he was not contented to kill a man only, but also he sucked the blood that remained on his sword, and liked it of with his tongue. The excellent Poet Homer meaning to speak plainly of the cruelties of Pirrus said in his Odisse of him, such words: Pirrus was borne in Grece, nourished in Archadye, and brought up with tigers milk, which is a cruel beast. As if more plainly he had said, Pirrus for being borne in Grece was Sage, for that he was brought up in arcady he was strong and courageous, and for to have sucked Tigars' milk, he was very proud, and cruel. Hereof may be gathered, that the great Grecian Pirrus, for wanting of good milk, was overcome with evil conditions.  
The self same historian Dion sayeth in the life of Tiberius, that he was a great dronckarde, And the cause hereof was, that the nurse did not only drink wine: but also she weaned the child with sops dipped in wine. And without doubt the cursed woman had done less evil, if in the stead of milk she had given the child poison, without teaching it to drink wine: wherefore afterwards he lost his renown. For truly the Roman Empire had lost little if Tiberius had died being a child: and it had won much, if he had never known what drinking of wine had mente.  
I have declared all that which before is mentioned, to th'intent that Princesses and great Ladies might be advertised, that sins in not nourishing their children, they show themselves crewel: yet at the least in providing for them good nurses, they should show themselves pitiful. For the children oftentimes follow more the condition of the milk which they suck: then the condition of their mothers which brought them forth, or of th●ir fathers which begot them. Therefore they ought to use much circumspection herein: for in them consisteth the fame of the wives, the honour of the husband, and the wealth of the children.   

Of the disputations before Alexander the great, concerning the time of the sucking of babes. Chap. xxii.  
QVintus Curtius sayeth, that after the great Alexander (which was the last king of the Macedonians, and first Emperor of the greeks) had overcome king Darius, and that he saw himself only lord of all Asia, he went to rest in babylon: for among men of war there was a custom, that after they had been long in the wars, every on should retire to his own house. King Philip (which was father of king Alexander) always counseled his son, that he should lead with him to the wars valiant captains, to conquer the world: and that out of his realms and dominions he should take & chose the wisest men, and best experimented to govern the empire. He had reason in such wise to council his son, for by the council of Sages, that is kept and maintained: which by the strength of valiant men is gotten and won. Alexander the great therefore being in Babylon, after he had conquered all the country, since all the city was vicious, and his army so long without wars, some of his own men began to rob one another, others to play their own, some to force women, and others to make banquets and feasts, and when some were drunk, others raised quarrels, strifes, and dyscentions: so that a man could not tell whether was greater, the rust in their armours, or the corruptions in their customs. For the property of man's malice is, that when the gate is open to idleness, infinite vices enter into the house.  
Alexander the great seeing the dissolution which was in his army, and the loss which might ensue hereof unto his great empire, commanded straightly that they should make a show and just thorough Babylon, to the end that the men of war should exercise their forces thereby. And as Aristotle sayeth, in the book of the questions of Babylon, the tourney was so much used amongst them, that sometimes they carried away more dead and wounded men, then of a bloody battle of the enemy. Speaking according to the law of the gentiles (which looked not glory for their virtues, nor feared hell to die) at the tourney the commendemant of Alexander was very just, for that doing as he did to the army, he defaced the vice which did waste it, and for himself he got perpetual memory, and also it was cause of much surety in the common weal.  
This good Prince not contented to exercise his army so, but ordained, that daily in his presence the philosophers should dispute, and the question wherein they should dispute, Alexander himself would propound▪ whereof followed, that the great Alexander was made certain of that wherein he doubted: and so by his wisdom all men exercised their crafts and wits.  
For in this time of idleness, the books were no less marred with dust, because they were not opened: then the weapons were with rust, which were not occupied. There is a book of Aristotle, entitled the questions of Babylon, where is said, that Alexander propounded, the Philosophers disputed: the pryncipalles of Persia replied, and Aristotle determined. And so continued in disputations as long as Alexander did eat: for at the table of Alexander, one day the captains reasoned of matters of war, and another day the Philosophers disputed of their philosophy. Blundus sayeth in the book entitled, Italia Illustrata, that among the Princes of Persia their was a custom, that none could sit down at the table, unless he were a king that had overcome an other king in battle, & none could speak at their table but a Philosopher. And truly the custom was very notable, and worthy to be noted: for there is no greater folly then for any man to desire that a Prince should reward him, unless he know that by his works he had deserved the same. King Alexander, did eat but one meal in the day, and therefore the first question that he propounded unto them was. That the man which did not eat but once in the day, at what hour it was best to eat, for the health of his person, and whether it should be in the morning, none days, or night? This question was debated among the philosophers, whereof every one to defend his opinion, alleged many foundations. For no less care have the Sages in their minds, to issue out of them disputations victorious: then the valiant captains have in adventuring their persons, to vanquish their enemies. It was determined: as Aristotle maketh mention in his problems, that the man which eateth but once in the day, should eat a little before night: for it availeth greatly to the health of the body, that when the digestion beginneth in the stomach, a man taketh his first steape.  
The second question that Alexander propounded was, what age the child should have, when he should be weyned from the dug. And the occasion of this question was, for that he had begotten a young daughter of a Queen of the Amazons, the which at that time did such: and for to know whether it were time or not to weyne her, there was great disputations. For the child was now great to suck, and weak to weyne, I have declared this history for no other purpose, but to show how in Babylon this question was disputed, before king Alexander, that is to weet, how many years the child ought to have before it were weyned from the teat: for at that time, they are so ignorant, that they cannot demand that that is good, nor complain of that which is nought. In that case a man ought to know, as the times are variable, and the regions and province divers: so likewise have they sundry ways of bringing up, and nourishing their children. For there is asmuch difference between the country's of one, from the countries of others, in dying, and burying the dead bodies, as there hath been varyeties in the world, by way of nourishing and bringing up of children.   

Of sundry kinds of sorceries, charms and witchcrafts, which they in old time used in giving their children suck, the which Christians ought to eschew. Chap. xxiii.  
IT is not much from our purpose, if I declare here some old examples of those which are passed. Strabo in his book de situ Orbis sayeth, that after the Assyrians, (which were the first that reigned in the world) the Siconians had signory, (which long time after were called Archades) which were great and famous wrestlers, and schoolmasters at the fence, from whom came the best and first masters of fence, the which the Romans kept always for their plays: for as Trogus Pompeius sayeth, the romans found it by experience, that there were no better men in weighty affairs, than those of Spain: nor no people apt to plays and pastimes, than those of Arcadia. As those Siconians were ancient, so they were marvelously addicted to follies, and superstitious in their usages and customs, for among other they honoured for their god the Moon. And during the time that she was seen, they gave their children suck, imagining that if the Moon shined upon the breasts of the mother, it would do much good unto the child. The author hereof is Sinna Catullus, in the book De educandis pueris. And as the same historian sayeth the egiptians were great enemies to the Siconians, so that all that which the one did allow, the others did reprove, as it appeareth. For asmuch as the Siconians loved olives and acorns, they were clothed with linen, and worshipped the Moon for their god. The Egyptians for the contrary had no olives, neither they nourished any oaks, they did were no linen, they worshipped the son for their god, and above all, as the Siconians did give their children suck whiles the Moon did shine: so the egyptians gave their chyldred suck whiles the son did shine.  
Among other follies of the Caldians this was one, that they honoured the fire for their god, so that he that was not married, could not light fire in his house: because they said the custody of Gods should be committed to none, but to married and ancient men. They had in marriages such order, that the day when any children did marry, the priests came into his house to light new fire: the which never ought to be put out, until the hour of his death. And if perchance during the life of the husband, and of the wife, they should find the fire dead and put out: the marriage between them was deed, and undone, yea though they had been xl years togethers before in such sort. And of this occasion came the proverb which of many is red, and of few understanded: that is to weet provoke me not so much that I throw water into the fire. The Chaldeans used such words, when they would divorce and separate the marriage: for if the woman were ill contented with her husband, in casting a little water on the fire, immediately she might mary with another. And if the husband in like manner did put our the fire, he might with another woman contract marriage. I have not been married as yet, but I suppose there are many christians which wisheth to have at this present the liberty of the Caldes: for I am well assured there are many men which would cast water on the fire, to escape from their wives: also I swear, that their would be a number of women which would not only put out the fire, but also the ashes, embers, & coals, to make themselves free, and to be dispatched of their husbands, and inespecially from those which are jealous.  
Therefore returning to our matter, the Chaldeans made before the fire, all notable things in their law, as before their God. For they did eat before the fire, they slept before the fire. They did contract before the fire, and the mothers did never give the children suck, but before the fire. For the milk (as they imagined) did profit the child when it sucked before the fire, which was their god. The author of this that is spoken, is Cynna Catullus. The Mauritaines which at this present are called the realms of Maruechi, were in times past warlike men, of whom the Romans had great victories, and the more valiant the men were in the wars: so much more superstitious their wives were in sorceries, charms, and enchauntements. For the husband that is long absent from his wife ought not to marvel though in her be found some faults. Cicero in the book De natura deorum, and much more at large Bocas sayeth, that as many men and women, as were in that realm: so many Gods there were among the people. For every one had one particular God to himself: so that the God of the one, was not the God of the other. And this was to be understand in the week days: For in the holy and festival days they had other Gods, the which altogethers they did honour. The manner that they had in choosing Gods when a woman was with child was this. She went to the sacrificer of the idol, and told him that she was great with child, and besought him to give her a god for her child. And the sacrificer gave her a little idol of stone, gold, silver, or of wood, the which the mother hanged at the neck of the child. And as often as the child did suck the dug, so oft the mother putteth the idol one his face. For otherwise she had not given him a drop of milk to suck, unless first she had consecrated to the God the milk of her breast. That which I have spoken is little in respect of that I will speak, which is, that if perchance the child died before the time, or that any young man by some perilous mishap died before he was somewhat aged: the fathers and kinsmen of the dead did assemble, and came to the Idol of him, and either stoned it, hung it, drew it, brent it, or else they cast it into the deep well, saying, that sith the Gods did kill man without reason: that they might lawfully kill them by justice. The same Bochas in the second book De natura Deorum saith, that the Allobroges had a custom, that those which were priests of the Gods should from the womb of their mothers be chosen unto that dignity. And assoon as the child was borne, before he tasted the milk of the breast, they carried it into a priests house: for they had a custom, that the man which had tasted the things of the world, merited not to serve the Gods in the temples. One of the laws that the said priests had, was that not only they could not by violence shed any blood, nor yet see it, neither touch it: so that immediately as the priest should by chance touch man's blood, even so soon he lost his priesthood. This law afterwards was so narrowly looked unto, that the priests of the Allobroges did not only not shed drink nor touch man's blood when they were now men: but also when they were little infants (those that should be priests) they gave them no milk of the breast at al. And this was their reason. That to suck milk was no other, but to drink white blood: for white milk is but sodden blood, and red blood is but raw milk. Pulio in the book De educandis pueris saith, that the ancients had a certain kind of reeds, that breaking it in sunder, there issued white milk, wherewith they accustomed to nourish their children: but let it be as it is, that this law prohibit children their milk, which here after should be made priests of the temples: me thinketh it is a trick rather of superstitious Sorcerers, then of religious priests. For there is neither divine nor humane law that will forbid, or prohibit any such thing, without the which man's life can not endure. These were the manners and customs that the ancients had in the nurture of their children.  
And in deed I marvel not at that they did, for the Gentiles esteemed this cursed Idol for as great a God: as we Christians do the true and living God. I was willing to declare all these antiquities, to the end that princesses and great ladies should have pleasure in reading them and knowing them: but not to that end they should imitate and follow them in any kind of thing. For according to the faith of our Christian religion, as sure as we be of the offences that those did unto God, through following those superstitions: so sure we are of the good services which we do unto God in forsaking them. How long time the mothers ought to give their children suck, and what age they ought to weyne them, not for that which I have red, nor for that which I have demanded in this case I am able to answer: but for as much as Aristotle saith, in the book above named, that the child at the most ought to suck but two years, and at the least one year and an half. For if he suck less, he is in danger to be sick, and if he suck more, he shallbe always tender. I will not omit that which Sextus Cheronensis saith, in the fourth book of his common wealth. And hereof Boccace also maketh mention in the third book De natura Deorum, that when Alexander the great passed into India, amongst other renowned Philosophers, there was one with him called Arethus, who (as by chance he was in Nissa an ancient city of India) there came a man of that Country to show him such antiquities as were there. Arethus the Philosopher beheld them as a sage and wise man. For the simple man only beholdeth the doings, and how they seem: but the sage man inquireth and demandeth of the causes, and from whence they came. Among other things he showed this good Philosopher a great house, being in the end of the city, and therein were many women, whereof every one of them had a chamber, and in every chamber there was two beds, and adjoining to the one herbs were sown in manner of nettles, and adjoining to the other there was a kind of twigs, as of Rosemary, and in the mids of the house, there were many graves of small children. The Philosopher Arethus asked why that house was so great, and the Indian answered. This house is to nourish the children which are orphans, when they be of their parents or friends abandoned. For it is a custom in this city, that immediately when the father of one child dieth, the city than taketh him for her son. And from that time forward he is called the child of the city, which nourisheth him: and not the child of the father, which begot him.  
Arethus the Philosopher secondarily asked him, why there were so many women in that house, without any man among them? whereunto the Indian answered: in this country there is a custom, that the women are severed from their husbands, all the time they give their children suck: For the will of our God is, that the woman be not in company with her husband after she is with child, and this not only until such time as she is delivered: but also until such time as the child be weyned from the breast.  
The Philosopher Arethus thirdly demanded him, why every one had her chamber severally? the Indian answered. Thou knowest that now naturally reigneth so much malice in the woman, that she always envieth the felicity of an other. And if they were altogethers, they would have amongst them such quarrels and debates, that they would corrupt the milk which they should give to the child.  
Fourthly the philosopher Arethus asked, why in every chamber there was a great bed, and a little pallet, since there was but one woman, & one child? whereunto the Indian answered. In this India they do not consent that the nurses should sleep togethers in one bed with the young child, whom they nourish: for when the women are heavy a sleep, not taking head to the child, they many times overlay the poor infant, and so smother it alive.  
Fiftly the philosopher asked why joining to the beds, there was nettles which are without savour in eating, and dangerous in touching? The Indian answered. I let thee know, that in this India (against all nature) the children weep not whiles they are young, and therefore they have growing by the beds nettles to make them weep: for our philosophers telleth us, that if daily the child doth weape two hours, it profiteth him not only for the health of his body, but also for to prolong his life.  
Furthermore the philosopher for the sixth asked, why there was so many twigs like Rosemary by the bed side? whereunto the Indian answered. Know thou, that in India there is an old plague, that we can not defend ourselves from these witcheiss, the which by their sorceries, and with the only looks of their eyes destroyeth many children: and they say, that all the children which shallbe perfumed with those herbs, can take no hurt through the looks of those witcheiss.   

¶ Of a letter which Marcus Aurelius sent to his friend Dedalus, in the end whereof he enueyeth against those women which cure children by sorceries, charms, and enchantments. Cap. xxiiii.  
Princess' and great Ladies ought to take heed that their nurses be not witches, and that they do not suffer the babes (whiles they are yet young) to take any charms or sorceries: for the medicine putteth the life of the creature in peril, and those sorceries do not only harm to the body of the child, but also to the soul of herself which useth it. To praise more them that are past, and to confound more the present, I will that those which shall read this, do read a letter of Marcus Aurelius, which he sent to a friend of his, in the end whereof it appeareth how great enemies the ancients were to witches, charmers, and to all kind of sorcerers: for truly I know not which was greater, either the temperance that they had in nourishing their children being gentiles, or the foolish hardiness which we have being Christians. Here followeth therefore the letter in the end of the which, he speaketh against witches and evil women.  

¶ The letter of the Emperor Marcus Aurelius.  
MArcus Aurelius the Roman Emperor, fellow with his brother Annius Verus, in the same Empire, wisheth to thee Dedalus his especial friend, health to thy person, and good fortune against all evil.  
Since the day that thou didst take shiping at the haven of Ostia, I read no letter of thine, neither have I seen as yet any man of thy house: yea and more over they could not tell me, whether thou were alive or dead. Wherefore thy friends did imagine that some mishap befell to thee, and thy ship, or else for the misliking of the country, thou shouldest return again. Because that men, which do sail (as thou) go always in danger to be drowned by some tempest, & if they do escape, they do despair in the strange country by solitariness: but when I saw Fronton thy servant, I was very joyful, and much more when I understood thou were alive after thy great travail. Truly I received great pleasure of that thou writest in thy letter, that thou art contented with the country: for to me it is a strange thing, that a man being nourished in the deliciousness of Rome, should find himself contented in an other strange Realm and nation. When Rome was Rome, and Italy was named great Grece, thither came of all sorts of people and nations, to learn virtues & nobleness, and others for to give themselves to vices and pleasures. Because (if Titus Livius deceive me not) Rome spent all her treasures in Asia, and Asia employed all her vices and delicateness in Rome. Thou writest to me in thy letter of so many things, and Fronton thy servant hath told me so many news of that land, that by the immortal Gods I swear unto thee, I can not tell what for to write unto thee, nor what to answer thy servant: For the more the strange news do please the ears in hearing them, so much the more do they seem to be uncredible. The noble and stout personages, though they would be esteemed and judged true in their saying, having seen many wonders with their eyes: yet when they do count them, than they ought to be very moderate in their tongues. For it is a shame to the honest man to declare a thing, wherein may be any doubt, whether it be true or not. I will briefly answer all the things of thy letter, and the answer shallbe, not according to thy desire: but according to that I perceive of thee, and the world.  
And before I begin, I beseech thee, that if my pen shall err in writing, that thy heart pardonne me. For thy few years, as yet doth not let thee know the world: and my white hears, and hored beard, doth give me authority to advertise thee of that which is to come, and to condemn thee of that which is paste.  
Thou sayest that in the Sea thou hast passed many dangers, and that for to lighten the ship, thou didst cast much of thy goods into the Sea. In this case, me thinketh thou oughtest greatly to thank the tempestuous waves, which having power to drown thee, contented themselves with thy merchandise. For they which sail the Seas ought not to regard the goods they lose, but the life which they save.  
Thou sayest, that in the Sea thou were greatly accompanied with passingyers, and that thou hast tarried longer in thy voyage than thou thoughtest, or didst desire. This I say unto thee, my friend Dedalus, that though the days were many thou didst stay: yet notwithstanding the griefs were more which thou receivedst. For it is unpossible that those men which sail much, should not be troubled with the mariners, and also in fear of tempests.  
To that I answer thee, thee the more thou were laden with companions, the less thy money weighed: for it is a general rule, that where the journey is long, and the company great, there the purse of necessity must needs wear thin.  
Thou sayest that through the moisture of the Sea, assoon as thou were landed, thou didst feel thyself taken with the gout.  
To this I answer thee, that thou haste the gout in thy feet, or else in thy hands: and if thou haste it in thy feet, it shallbe an occasion that thou shalt keep thy house, and if thou haste it in thy hands, it shallbe an occasion that thou shalt play no more at Tables (as thou were wont to do) and also thou shalt not waste (as thou haste done) thy own money. And if thou haste not changed thy condition (which thou hadst) I am assured, that only for to increase thy goods, thou wilt think thy gout welcome.  
Thou sayest, in that country thou haste found many sovereign and expert Physicians, for to remedy thy diseases.  
To that I answer, as Plato sayeth, that in the country where there is many Physicians, there are many vices, and many vicious: For man by excessive delicateness cometh to sickness, and by the mean travail he is healed. As long as our ancient fathers were without Physicians in Rome, which was four hundred years: so long and no more they showed themselves sober in eating and drinking. For even as by temperance, health proceedeth: so of physic, proceedeth gluttony. Thou sayest, that the country is very fertile, and that amongst other things there is much wood which we lack here in Rome. To this I answer, that if thou haste much wood, thou hast little bread: For it is an ancient proverb, that where the fires are great, the barns are few. And if thou sayest, that thou art content with the wood of that country: I let the know that I am not discontented with the bread of Italy. For in the end, a man shall sooner find wood to heat the oven: then corn to carry to the mill. Truly it is a good thing to have wood for the Winter: but it is better to have corn for the Winter, and Summer. For they call it no hunger, when wood lacked for the aged: but when bread wanteth for the young.  
Thou sayest in that country there are many waters, and that the water is very clear and cold: and further that the abundance thereof is such, that every house hath a fountain. To this I answer thee, that where the waters do abound, there wanteth health continually. And I do not marvel thereat, for the moist and dankyshe places are always dangerous, unhealthful, and noisome. If this had been in the time of the golden world, when men knew not what wine mente, but that all drank water: without comparison that country had been better than this. For the more the drunkenness of wine is infamous: the more sweeter and profitable is that of the water.  
Thou knowest well, that a Fountain which I have in my garden (by the street Salaria) was occasion that at one time seven of my house died togethers. And if I had not made a conduit to void the standing water: I think it had made an end of me, and of all my family. Wherefore I pray thee have respect unto the health of thy person, rather then to enjoy the freshness of the water. For my part I think him only happy, who hath his body healthful, and his heart at ease. Praise as much the land as they will, enjoy thou the freshness thereof as much as thou canst, and fill thee with the fresh and cold water, and write unto thy friends how plenty it is, in the end I swear unto thee my friend Dedalus, that more money shall issue out of Rome, to vie wine in Candia: then butts of the cold water of that country shall enter into Rome.  
Thou sayest that in that country there is such abundance of fruits, that thou thinkest thou shalt never be satisfied therewith. To that I answer. That thing which I best like, is a winter fruit: yet neither seeing it, nor eating it, I can content myself. For the country where fruits abound in winter, is never without fevers and sicknesses in Summer.  
Octavian Augustus the famous Emperor of memory, seeing that Rome in Summer was very subject to diseases, commanded on grievous pains, that the fruits of Salon should not enter into Rome to be sold. And this is a marvelous thing, that Rome by this means did not only find herself hole: but also the Physicians went out of Rome of their own wills and affections. For it is a great token that the people is healthful, when the Physicians are poor. Thou sayest in that country there are many jugglers and Players. To this I answer thee. That their pastimes shall not be unto thee such, and so pleasant: as the griefs and displeasures thou shalt have, when they craftily shall pick thy purse. For jugglers and players make plays and sport in jest: but they will be paid in good earnest.  
Thou sayest in that country there is great abundance of wines, and that the wine is savoury to smell, and very sweet and pleasant to taste: whereunto I answer. That there shall not be so many wines in the fields, as drunkards amongst the people: for as thou knowest, the day that I married Topina my niece, my uncle Getellius had but only one vine tree, and yet with the wine that came thereof, he made himself, his household, and all those that were at the marriage drunk. That which I will say is not without weeping, (in the old time) Mars was the God most honoured and esteemed, being the God of battles: but now Bacchus, which is God of wine, is most honoured, served, and exalted.  
For the time that a Roman was wont to employ in the marshal camp, to handle weapons: now they consume in playing, and drinking in the Taverns. Titus Livius in his Annals saith, that those of Gallia Transalpina, understanding that the Italians had planted vines, came to conquer the country. So that if they had never planted wines in Italy, the French men had never destroyed the country.  
The ancient Romans (which were provided against all inconveniences) considering that wine was the cause of their destruction, commanded to destroy all the wines of the Empire, through the which policy they were delivered from all the French men: for when the wars were ended, there remained not one French man in all Italy, when they knew that there were no more wines therein. Thou sayest that in that country there are many Gentlemen, and honourable Senators, with whom thou talkest, and passest away the time. To this I answer, that if it be true, there are many idle men, and also few true talkers: for those men which have spent their youth in the wars, when they are aged, do not employ the time but in hearing news, and telling lies. Thou saidst that there are very fair women in that country, of gesture seemly, and of their persons comely. To this I answer. That if there be many which be fair, there are as many which are dishonest: For if the woman with her beauty, hath not wisdom and honesty in herself, she putteth herself in peril, & her husband in much care. Thou sayest that in that country there are women which are Sooth sayers, Sorcerers, and Enchauntours: the which do boast and vaunt themselves that they will heal infants, & that they can weyne them better than others. To this I answer. That I would judge it much better, that children should never be healed, then that they should be healed by the hands of so evil women. For the profit that they do by their experience openly, is nothing in respect of the danger wherein they put the creatures by their sorceries secretly. Torquatus Laertius my uncle, had a daughter of a marvelous beauty, the which (because he had none other child) was heir of all his patrimony. The case therefore was such, that as the daughter wept one day a little to much, the nurse which gave her suck, to appease and still her, thinking to give her sorceries to cast her in a sleep, gave her poison to destroy her: so that when the tears of the innocent babe ceased, than the cries of the woeful mother began.  
Calligula, which was the son of the good Germanicus the great, (though amongst the Caesar's he was the fourth, and amongst the tyrants the first) when in Rome they used to give little scrolls written which they said to be of such virtue, that they could heal all manner of agues and diseases of young children, he commanded by the consent of the Senate, that the man or woman which should make them, should die immediately by justice: and that he which would by them, & carry them to sell, or give them through Rome, should be whipped, and banished for ever. Thy servant Fronton hath told me news that thou hast a son borne, whereof I am very glad: and moreover he said, that a woman of Sannia did nourish it, and gave it suck. The which (as by an evil chance) hath a spice of sorcery. By the immortal gods I do conjure thee, and for the love I bear the I desire thee, that immediately thou put her out of thy house, & suffer not so wicked a woman to eat bread there one day: for every creature which is nourished by sorceries and charms, shall either have his life short, or else fortune shallbe contrary unto him. I let the weet my friend Dedalus that I have not marvel a little at many Romans, the which do permit, and also procure that their children should be healed & cured, which charms and sorceries. For my part I take it to be a thing to be certain, that the men which by the will of god fall sick, shall never heal for any diligence that man can do. And where as children are sick by evil humours, or that they are not very healthful, because the gods will take life from them: in this case, if their disease proceed of an evil humour, let them ask physicians for natural medecins. And if their disease come because the gods are provoked: then let their fathers appease the gods with sacrifices. For in the end it is unpossible that the diseases of the heart should be healed, by the means of any medycins of the body. Do not marvel my friend Dedalus, if I have spoken more in this article then in others, that is to weet, to persuade the so much to keep thy children from wytches: for otherwise the cursed women will do them more harm, than the good milk shall profit them. I have been moved & provoked to write thus much unto thee, for the great love which I do bear thee: and also calling to mind that which thou (when we were in the sacred senate) oft times toldest me, which was, that thou didst desire a son. And since now thou hast thy petition, I would not thou shouldest provoke the gods wrath by sorceries: For in the faith of a good man I do swear unto thee, that when the fathers are in favour with the gods, there needeth no sorceries unto the children. I had many other things to write unto thee, some of the which I will communicate with thy servant Fronton, rather thenne to send them by letters. And marvel not at this, for letters are so perilous, that if the man be wise, he will write no more in a close letter, then he would declare openly in Rome, pardonne me, my friend Dedalus, though in deed I writ not unto the as thy appetite would, nor yet as my will desirethe: For thou haste need to know many things, and I have not leave by letter to put thee in trust therewith. I can not tell what I should writ to thee of me, but that always the Gout doth take me, and the worst of all is, that the more I grow in years, the more my health dym●yssheth: for it is an old course of man's frailetye, that where we think to go most surest, there have we most let. The popinjay which thou didst send me, as son● I received it, my wife did seize it, and truly it is a marvelous thing to hear what things it doth speak: but in the end the women are of such power, that when they will, they impose silence to the living, and cause that in the graves the dead men speak. According to that I do love thee, & according to that I own thee, and as I have used, that which I do send the is very little. I say it, because that presently I do send the but two. horses of barbarie xii swords of alexandria, & to Fronton thy servant for a new years gift for his good news, I have given him an office, which is worth to him. 20. thousand Sexterces of rent in Cecyl. Faustine did bid me I should send thy wife Pertusa a coffer full of odiferous oders of palestine, and another coffer full of her own apparel: the which as I think thou wilt not little esteem, For naturally women are of their own goods niggards: but in wasting and spending of others very prodigal. The almighty gods be with thee, and preserve me from evil fortune. The which I humbly beseech to grant, that unto the and me, & unto my wife Faustine, and to thy wife Pertusa, that we all meet merely togethers in Rome: for the heart never receiveth such joy, as when he seeth himself with his desired friend. Marcus of Mount Celio writeth to the with his own hand.    

¶ How excellent a thing it is for a gentleman to have an eloquent tongue. Cap. xxv.  
ONe of the chiefest things that the creator gave to man, was to know & be able to speak: for otherwise (the soul reserved) the brute beasts are of more value, then dumb men. Aristotle in his Aeconomices, without comparison praiseth more the Pythagorical sort, than the Stoical: saying that the one is more conform to reason, than the other is. Pythagoras commanded, that all men which were dumb, and without speech, should immediately, & without contradiction be banished and expulsed from the people. The cause why this philosopher had commanded such thing was, forsomuch as he said, that the tongue is moved by the motions of the soul, & that he which had no tongue had no soul. And he which hath no soul, is but a brute beast: and he that is a beast, deserveth to serve in the fields among brute beasts. It is a good thing not to be dumb as bruyte beasts are: and it is a greater thing to speak as the reasonable men do: but it is much more worthy to speak well, as the eloquent philosophers do. For otherwise if he which speaketh doth not weigh the sentences more than the words, oft times the popinjays shall content them more which are in the cage: then the men which do read in schools. josephus in the book De bello judaico saith, that king Herode, not only with his person and goods, but also with all his friends and parents followed and gave aid to Marcus Antonius, and to his lover Cleopatra, howbeit in the end Octavian had the victory. For the man which for the love of a woman doth enterprise conquests, it is impossible that either he lose not his life, or else that he live not in infamy Herode seeing that Marcus Antonius was dead, determined to go towards the Emperor Octavian, at whose feet he laid his crown, and made a notable oration, wherein he spoke so pleasant words, and so high sentences, that the Emperor Octavian did not only pardon him for that he was so cruel an enemy: but also he confirmed him again into his Realm, and took him for his dear and special friend. For among the good men and noble hearts, many evil works are amended by a few good words. If Blundus, in the book entitled Roma triumphant, do not deceive me, Pirrus the great king of the Epirotes, was stout and hardy, valiant in arms, liberal in benefits, patient in adversities and above all renowned to be very sweet in words, and sage in his answers.  
They said that this Pirrus was so eloquent, that the man with whom once he had spoken remained so much his, that from that time forward in his absence he took his part, and declared his life and state in presence. The above named Blundus said and Titus Livius declareth the same, that as the Romans were of all things provided (seeing that king Pirrus was so eloquent) they provided in the senate, that no Roman Ambassador should speak unto him, but by a third person: for otherwise he would have persuaded them through his sweat words, that they should have returned again to Rome as his procurers & Solicitors. Albeit Marcus Tullius Cicero was Senator in the Senate, consul in the Empire, rich amongst the rich, and hardy amongst men of war: yet truly none of these qualities caused him eternal memory, but only his excellent eloquence. This Tullius was so esteemed in Rome for the eloquence of his tongue only that oft times they heard him talk in the Senate three hours togethers, without any man speaking one word. And let not this be little esteemed nor lightly passed over: for worldly malice is of such condition, that some man may more easily speak 4. hours, than another man shall have patience to hear him one minute, Antonius Sabellicus declareth, that in the time of Amilcares the Africans, a Philosopher named Afronio flourished in great Carthage, who being of the years of 81. died in the first year of the wars of Punica. They demanded this Philosopher, what it was that he knew? he answered. He knew nothing but to speak well. They demanded him again what he learned? he answered. He did learn nothing but to speak well. Another time they demanded him what he taught? he answered. He taught nothing but to speak well. Me thinketh that this good philosopher in 80. years and one, said that he learned nothing but to speak well, he knew nothing but to speak well, & that he taught nothing but to speak well. And truly he had reason: for the thing which most adorneth man's life, is the sweat pleasant tongue to speak well. What is it to see two. men in one council, the one talking to the other, the one of them hath an evil grace in propounding, and tother excellent in speaking. Of such there are some, that in hearing them talk iii hours, we would neither be troubled nor wearied: and of the contrary part there are others so tedious, and rude in their speech that as soon as men perceive they begin to speak they avoid the place. And therefore in mine opinion there is no greater trouble then to hearken one quarter of an hour a rude man to speak: and to be contrary there is no greater pleasure, thenne to hear a dyscreate man though it were a whole week.  
The divine Plato in the Book of Laws said, that there is nothing whereby a man is known more, then by the words he speaketh: for of the words which we hear him speak, we judge his intention either to be good or evil. Laertius in the life of the Philosophers sayeth, that a young child borne at Athens, was brought unto Socrates the great philosopher: being in Athens, to the end he should receive him into his company, & teach him in his school. The young child was strange and shamefast, and durst not speak before his master: wherefore the philosopher Socrates said unto him, speak friend, if thou wilt that I know the. This sentence of Socrates was very profound: and I pray him that shall read this writing, to pause a while thereat. For Socrates will not that a man be known by the gesture he hath, but by the good or evil words which he speaketh. Though eloquence and speaking well, to every man is a cause of augmenting their honour, and no dimynissher of their goods: yet without comparison it shineth much more, and is most necessary in the palaces of Princes and great Lords. For men which have common offices, aught of necessity hearken to his natural countrymen, & also to speak with strangers. Speaking therefore more plainly I say, that the Prince ought not to travail only to have eloquence, for the honour of his person: but also it behoveth him for the common wealth.  
For as the prince is but one, and is served of all: so it is unpossible that he have so much, as will satisfy and content them al. And therefore it is necessary that he requite some mith money: & that he content others with good words. For the noble heart loveth better a gentle word: then a reward or gift, with the tongue of a rude man. Plato. Livius, Herodotus, Vulpicius, Eutropius, Diorus. Plynie, and many other innumerable ancient historiographers, do not cease to praise the eloquence of greek princes, and latins, in their works. O how blessed were those times, when there were sage princes, and discrete lords: truly they have reason to exalt them. For many have obtained, and won the royal crowns and septures of the Empire, not so much for the great battles they have conquered, nor for the high blood and generation from whence they are dyssended▪ as for the wisdom, and eloquence, which they had. Marcus Aurelius was natural of Rome borne in mount Celio, he was poor in patrimony, and of base lineage, little in favour, left and forsaken of his parents, and besides all this, only for being virtuous in his life, profound in doctrine, and of so high eloquence, the Emperor Antonius (called Pius) gave him his daughter Faustine for wife: who being reproved of many, because he gave his daughter to so poor a philosopher, answered. I had rather have a poor philosopher, than a rich fool.  
Pulio in his seventh book of the Roman laws saith, that in Rome there was a law very well kept, & observed of the consuls, by a custom brought in, that the dictators, Censors, and Emperors of Rome, entered into the Senate once in the week at the least, and in this place they, should give and render account, in what state the common wealth remained. O, would to God that at this present this law were so kept, and observed: for there is none who doth minister so good justice, as he which thinketh to give account of his doings. They say that Calligula (the fourth Emperor of Rome) was not only deformed, infamous, and cruel in his life: but also was an Idiot in eloquence, and of an evil utterance in his communication. So that he among all the Roman princes, was constrained to have others to speak for him in the Senate. This wickedman was so unfortunate, that after his cruel and infamous death, they drew him throughout Rome, and set upon his grave this epitaph.  
¶ Calligula lieth here, in endless sleep  
That stretchte his reign, upon the Empire's head  
Vnfytte for rule, that could such folly heap  
And fit for death, where virtue so was dead.  
I Cannot tell why princes do praise themselves to be strong and hardy, to be well disposed, to be runners, to just well, and do not esteem to be eloquent sins it is true that those gifts do profit them only for their life, but the eloquence profiteth them, not only for to honour their life, but also to augment their renown. For we do read, that by that many Princes did pacify great seditions in the common wealth, and besides that they deserved immortal memory. Suetonius Trancquillus in the first book of Caesar's saith, that the adventurous julius Cesar (being as yet but 16. years of age) when there died in Rome an aunt of his called Cornelia, at her burial he made an oration, in the which he (being so young) showed marvelous great eloquence: which was so accepted that day in all people, that in the end, every man judged him to be a valiant Roman captain. And as Appianus declareth, they say that Silla spoke these words. That which I perceive of this young man Caius Cesar is, that in the boldness of his tongue, he declareth how valiant he ought to be in his person. Let therefore Princes and great Lords see, how much it may profit them, to know to speak well and eloquently. For we see no other thing daily, but that a man of base lineage, by his eloquence cometh to be exalted: and the other which of lineage is nobly borne, for want of speaking well, and being eloquent, is the first that descendeth most vilest of all other. Thentention whereupon I wrote these things was for no other, but to admonish, persuade, and pray all princes, and great lords, that whiles their children are young, they should put them to wise and learned men, to the end they should teach them: not only how they ought to live, but also how they ought to speak. For to persons of estate it is a great infamy, to do, or to invent to do a thing, and afterward not to know how to give a reason thereof, Polidorus in the third book of his commentaries saith, that when the Lacedæmonians were put to flight by the Athenians in Rota Millina (it is called Millina, because the battle was in the river of Milline) the Lacedæmonians sent a philosopher called Heuxinus, to treat of peace with the Athenians: who made such an eloquent oration to the Senate of Athens, that he did not only obtain the peace which he desired for his country, but for himself also he wan perpetual renown. At the philosophers return, the Athenians gave him a letter, which said in this sort.   

¶ Of a letter which the Athenians, sent to the Lacedæmonians. Cap. xxvi.  
THe Senate, people, and Sages of Athens, wisheth health to the persons, and peace to the common wealth, of you of the senate and people of the Lacedæmonians. We take the immortal gods to record, that in the last battle we had no less displeasure to see ye overcome: then on the contrary we had pleasure, to see us remain victorious. For in the end, the dangers and inconveniences of the cruel wars are so great, that the evil and danger is certain to them that are vanquished: and the profit is doubtful, to them that have overcomed. We would gladly, that that which now ye will, ye would have willed sooner: & that which now ye require & demand, that before ye had required, and demanded. But what shall we do, sins it was ordained to your and our woeful destinies, that he should lose the battle, and that we of your loss can take no profit. For it is a rule unfallible, that all that which the gods have ordained, no worldly wight can amend, nor humane power resist. Ye demand that war may cease and leave of, and that we take truise for iii months, and that during this time, peace & concord may be concluded. To this we make answer. That the senate of Athens hath not accustomed to grant peace, afterwards for to return to war. For amongst us Athenians we have an ancient law, that freely we do accept the cruel war, and liberally we do grant perpetual peace. In our schools and universities we travail to have Sages in time of peace, for to help us with their counsels in the time of war. And they do counsel us that we never take upon us truce, upon suspect condition. And in dead they counsel us well. For the feigned and dyssembled peace is much more perilous: then is the manifest war. The philosopher Heuxinus your ambassador, hath spoken to us so highly, and eloquently in this Senate, that it seemed to us very unjust, if we should deny him, and gain say that he requireth us. For it is much more honesty to grant him peace, which by sweet and pleasant words doth demand it: then him which by force and sharp sword doth requireth it. Let the case therefore be, that the Senate, people, and Sages of Athens have ordained, that war do cease with the Lacedæmonians, and that all discords, contentions, dissensions, and debates do end, & that perpetual peace be granted unto them. And this thing is done to the end all the world should know, that Athens is of such courage with the hardy, and so very a friend to the Sages: that she knoweth how to punish the foolish captains, and suffereth to be commanded and governed by sage philosophers. Ye know right well, that all our war hath not been, but only for the possessions of cities, and lymites of the river Milina.  
Wherefore by this letter we declare unto you, and by the immortal Gods we swear, that we do renounce unto you all our right, on such condition, that you do leave us Heuxinus your ambassador & philosopher. The great Athens desireth rather a philosopher for her schools: then a hole province of your realms. And do not you other Lacedæmonians think, that that which we of Athens do, is light or foolish, that is to weet, that we desire rather one man to rule: then to have a whole province whereby we may command many. For this philosopher shall teach us to live well, and that land gave us occasion to die evil: and sith we now of your old enemies do become your true friends, we will not only give you perpetual peace, but also counsel for to keep it, For the medicine which preserveth health, is of greater excellency: then is the purgation which healeth the disease. Let the counsel therefore be such, that as ye will the young men do exercise themselves in weapons: that so ye do watch and see that your children in time do learn good letters. For even as the war by the cruel sword is followed: so likewise by pleasant words peace is obtained. Think not ye Lacedæmonians, that without a cause we do persuade you, that you put your children to learn, when as yet they are but young and tender, and that ye do not suffer them to run to vices? For on the one part wise men shall want to counsel, and on the other, fools shall abound to make debate. We Athenians in like manner will not that ye Lacedæmonians do think, that we be friends to babblers, For our father Socrates ordained, that the first lesson which should be given to the scholar of the unyversity should be, that by no means he should speak any word for the space of two. years: for it is unpossible that any man should be wise in speaking, unless he have patience to be sylente. We think, if you think it good, that the philosopher Heuxinus shall remain in our Senate: and think you if we profit by his presence, that ye may be assured ye others shall not receive any damage, by the counsels he shall give us. For in Athens it is an ancient law, that the senate cannot take upon them wars, but that by the Philosopher's first it must be examined, whither it be just or not. We writ none other thing, but that we beseech the immortal Gods that they be with you, and that it please them to continue us in this perpetual peace. For that only is perpetual, which by the gods is confirmed.   

¶ That nurses which give suck to the children of Princes, aught to be discreet, and sage women. Chap. xxvii.  
THE pilgrims which travail through unknown countries, & strange mountains (with great desire to go forward, and not to err) do not only ask the way which they have to go: but also do importune those whom they meet, to point them the way with their finger. For it is a grievous thing, to travail doubtfully in fear and suspicion. By this comparison I mean, that since I have much persuaded, that the fathers do learn & teach their children to speak well, it is but reason that they do seek them some good masters. For the counsel hath no authority, if he which giveth it, seeketh not speedily to execute the same. It is much for a man to be of a good nature, or else to be of an evil inclination, to be rude in understanding, or else to be lively in spirit: and this not only for that a man ought to do, but also for that he ought to say, For it is no small thing, but a great good benefit when the man is of a good nature, of a good understanding, and of a clear judgement. This notwithstanding I say, that all the good and clear judgements, are not always eloquent, nor all the eloquentest, of lively spirits, and understanding. We see many men which of a small matter, can make much: & for the contrary we see many men, which have great knowledge, & yet no means to utter it. So that nature hath given them high understanding, & through negligence of bringing up it is hid, Oftentimes I do marvel that the soul of the babe when it is borne, for th'one part is of no less excellency: then the soul of the old man when he dieth. And on the other side I muse at the babe which hath the members so tender (wherewith the soul doth work his operations) that they little seem to participate with reasonable creatures.  
For where the soul doth not show herself mistress, it wanteth little but that the man remaineth a beast.  
It is a wonder to see the children, that as yet being ii years of age, they life their feet for to go, they hold themselves by the walls for fauling, they will open their eyes to know, and they form a defused voice to speak: so that in that age, a creature is none otherwise, than a tree at the first spring.  
For the tree ii months being past, beareth leaves immediately: and the child after two. years beginneth to frame his words. This thing is spoken, for that the Fathers which are wise, should begin to teach their children at that age: For at that time the wines bear grapes, and other trees their fruit.  
For the perils of this life are such, that if it were possible, the father before he see his son borne, aught to admonish them how he should live. In mine opinion, as they convey the water about to turn the mill: so from the tender youth of the infant, they ought to show and teach him to be eloquent, & affable. For truly the child learneth distinctly to pronounce his words, when he doth suck the milk of his nurse. We cannot deny, but that the children being but two. or three years old, it is to soon to give them masters, or correctors. For at that age a nurse to make them clean is more necessary: then a master for to correct their speech. On the one part the children are very tender for to learn to speak well: and on the other part it is necessary, that when they are very young and little, they should be taught and learned. I am of that opinion, that princesses and great Ladies should take such nurses to give their children suck: that they should be sound to give them their milk, and sage for to teach them to speak. For in so young and tender age they do not suffer, but that she which giveth them suck, doth teach them to speak the first words. As Sextus Cheronensis in the Book of the diversities of the Languages saith. The Toscans were the first which called the natural tongue of the country, the mother tongue (which is to say, the tongue of our mother) to the end we should take it of the mother which bringeth us forth: & of the nurse which giveth us suck. And in this case we have less need of the mother, then of the nurse. For the children before they know their mothers, which brought them into the world, do call the nurse mother which gave them suck. plutarch in the second book of the regiment of princes saith, that one of the greatest things the Romans had in their common weal was, that of all the languages & manners which they spoke throughout the hole earth, they had Colleges and Schools in Rome: so that were he never so Barbarous that entered into Rome, immediately he found that understood him.  
The Romans used that craft and subtlety, to the end that when Rome sent Embassages into strange countries or that some strange countries came to Rome, they would that the interpreters and brokers should be of their own nation and not of a strange tongue or country.  
And the Romans truly had reason, for the affairs of great importance, are oftentimes craftily compassed by a strange tongue.  
A man will marvel greatly to read, or hear this that I speak, which is, that the women which nourish the children of Princes be eloquent.  
And truly he that at this doth marvel, hath seen little, and read less. For I cannot tell which was greater, the glory that the ancients had to enjoy so excellent women: or the infamy of them that are present, to suffer dishonest harlots. I will not deny, when I drew near this matter, that my spirit wear not in great perplexity. First to see in this my writing, of what women my pen should write, that is to weet, the dissolute vices of women which I have seen: or else the prowesses and virtues of women whereof I have read. Finally, I am determined to entreat of our grain, and corn, and to leave the rotten straw on the earth, as without profit. For the tongue which is noble, ought to publish the goodness of the good and honest women, to the end that all know it: for the contrary the frailness of the wicked aught to be dissembled, and kept secret, to the end that no man follow it. Men which are sage and noble, treating of women, are bound to serve them, to visit them, to preserve them, & to defend them: but in no wise they have licence to slander them. For the man which speaketh of the frailness of women, is like unto him that taketh a sword to kill a fly. Therefore touching the matter, Princesses and great Ladies ought not to cease to teach their young children all that they can, sons or daughters. And they ought not to deceive themselves, saying that forasmuch as their daughters are women, they are unable to learn sciences. For it is not a general rule, that all men children are of clean understanding: nor that all the daughters are of rude spirit and wit. For if they and the others did learn togethers, I think there would be as many wise women, as there are foolish men. Though the world in times past did enjoy excellent women, there was never any nation had such as the Greeks had. For though the Romans were glorious in weapons: the Greeks were of immortal memory of letters. I will not denay that in the common wealth of Rome, there hath not been nourished, & taught many women of great science: but that the difference of the one and the others was, that the Grecian women were learned in Philosophy, and the Roman women in Rhetoric and Poetry. And hereof came that in Athens they esteemed to know how to teach well: and in Rome they vaunted how to speak well. Euphronius in the third book of the Roman gests saith, that in the third year of the Consulshipe of Lelius Sylla, by chance a Greek Ambassador and an ambassador of Rome, were at words in the Senate of the Rhodians, and the Greek Ambassador said to the Roman Ambassador. It is true that amongst ye other Romans, ye are adventurous in arms: but for all that, ye are unable in sciences. For truly the women of Grece know more in letters: then the men of Rome in weapons.  
As soon as the Senate of Rome understood these words, immediately hereupon grew the cruel wars between Rome and Carthage, about the possession of Scicil.  
And no man ought hereat to marvel, for in the end we see more wars arise by injurious words: then for to recover the good that is lost. The Romans and the Grecians therefore being ready the one to defy the other, the Rhodians came in the midst, and kept them from such debate, and in the end appointed them in this sort.  
That is to weet, that as this injury should by weapons have been determined, they ordained that by the disputations of women it should be argued. And truly the Romans were counseled well, for it was greater shame to the Greeks to be overcome with the tongues of women: then with the sword of men. The case thereof was such, that by appointment assembled at Rhodes ten Roman women, and ten Greek women. All women very well learned, the which in their chairs read certain lessons, every one after other, and afterwards the one disputed against the other, of sundry and divers matters. And finally, there was between them great difference, for the Greeks spoke very high things, not so profound, but with an excellent style. We ought not to marvel that such gifts were in those women. For we daily see it by experience, that profound science, and high eloquence, seldom meeteth in one parsonage. The Greeks were very well pleased, to hear the Roman women: & the Romans remained astonished to hear the Greeks. And upon this occasion the Rhodians judged in this sort, that every one of them should be crowned with a crown of Laurel as vanquisshers. And they judged, that in grave sentences the Grecians had the best: and in eloquent speech the Romans had the victory. As the above named Euphronius saith, these disputations being ended, the Roman women returned to Rome: and the Greek women to Grece, where they were received with such triumph and glory, as if they had won a battle. The senate of the Rhodians for the memory of those women (in the place of the disputations) caused to be set up twenty mighty pillars, in every one of the which were the names of the women. Which was so sumptuous a building, that in Rhodes there were none unto it, save only the great Collyseo. Those pillars stood until the time of Heliogabalus Emperor, who was so evil that he invented new vices, and destroyed the ancient memories. The writers which wrote in that time, declare yet an other thing, wherein the women of Grece were different from the women of Rome. That is to weet, that the Greek women were found more fairer, than the Roman women: but the Romans had a better grace, and more rich in apparel, than the Greeks. They said also that the Greeks were more hardy & stout, than the Romans: but the Romans were more honest, pleasant, and gracious, than the Greeks. And if this be true, I do counsel princesses and great Ladies, that they have no more envy at the honesty of the Matrons of Rome: then at the boldness of the ladies of Grecia. For women were not borne to slay men in the war: but to spin, sow, and live well like good housewives in the house.   

¶ That women may be no less wise than men, & though they be not, it is not through default of nature, but for want of good bringing up. Cap. xxviii.  
CEasing to speak ingenerally, it is but reason we speak particularly, and that we reduce to memory some ancient histories, of wise and discrete women, aswell Greeks as Romans: and for that these Ladies (seeing what others were in times past) may know what their duty is at this present.  
In mine opinion, the duty that the men of this present have to follow the courage that the ancients had in fight: the self same desire ought women of this present to have, to follow the ancient women in devout living. For there is no good thing in the world at this present day, but the like hath been seen of our ancients heretofore. When any sudden new & unaccustomed thing doth happen, men that never saw the like, use to say that there was never the like in the world, yet in deed they say not true: For though the thing be unto them new, it is through their ignorance and simpleness which neither have read it by themselves, nor heard it of others. For this excellency hath the man that is learned: that for what so ever he heareth or saith, he is nothing abashed at. Since women now a days are so ignorant that scarcely any of them can read well, he that shall read this will marvel why I do persuade them to learn. But the truth known what the ancients were, and what they did know: from this time forward I believe they would greatly reprove the women of this present. For the time which the ancient women spent in virtues and studies: these of this present, consume in pleasures and vices. Boccace in the book of the praise of women saith, that Lucyus Sylla was a great companion of Marius the Consul, in the time of the war of jugurtha: and was no less a friend of Caius Cesar, in the time of the first civil wars. My pen needeth not to be occupied, to write any thing of the life of Sylla. For all the historiographers do not only reprove the cruelties which he used to his enemies: but also condemn him for the little faith he observed his friends. This Consul Sylla had three daughters, the one of them was named Lelia Sabyna, the which of all the Sisters was lest fair, but amongst all the Romans she was most sagest. For she read openly in Rome in a chair, both Greek and latin. After the wars of Mithridates, Lucius Sylla came to Rome, where he beheaded three thousand Romans which came to salute him: although before by his word he had assured them al. And in dead, & also justly Lucius Sylla had been utterly undone for his fact, if his daughter had not made to the Senate a wise oration: For oft times it chanceth that the wisdom of the good child, doth remedy the folly of the wicked-Father. The historians say, that this Lelya Sabyna had not only a great grace in reading: but also she had much excellency in writing. For she wrote many letters and Orations with her own hand, which her Father Lucius Sylla afterwards learned by heart: and as he was in deed quick of spirit, so he used to recite them to the Senate always for his purpose.  
And let no man marvel hereat, for there are some of so gross understanding that that which they writ and study, they can scarcely utter: and others again are of such lively wits, that of that only which they have heard, it seemeth marvelous to hear with what eloquence they will talk. Because Sylla had such and so excellent a daughter in his house, he was esteemed for a sage and wise councillor throughout all the common wealth.  
He was counted very absolute in executing, strong in maintaining, and for right eloquent in speaking. Finally, of this came this ancient, proverb which saith. Lucius Sylla governeth his own country with the eloquence of his Tongue: and is Lord of strange nations by the force of his sword.  
What the great Plato hath been, and what great authority he hath had amongst his country men and amongst the strangers it is apparent: for so much as the Greeks do acknowledge him of all other Philosophers to be the Prince: and likewise the latins by one consent call him divine.  
And me thinketh that in doing this, they do no philosopher injury: for as Plato in his life time had great modesty, so truly in his writing he exceeded man's capacity. And Historian called Hyzearchus, declareth that Lasterna and Ax●othea were two Greeks very well learned, and amongst the scholars of Plato chiefly renowned. The one was of so perfect a memory, & the other of so high an understanding, that Plato oft times being in the chair (and these two not ready) he would not begin to read. And being asked wherefore he read not his lecture, he answered? I will not read, for that there wanteth here understanding to conceive, and also memory to retain. Meaning that Lasterna was absent, that Axiothe was not yet come. The wisdom of those two women ought to be much, since Plato without them would not utter one word, unless they were present in his school. For Plato esteemed more the understanding and memory of those two women alone: then he did the Philosophy of his other Scholars together. Aristippus the philosopher was Scholar to Socrates, and of the most renowned of Athens. He had a daughter called Aretha, the which was so well learned in Greek and latin letters, that the common renown said, the soul of Socrates was entered into Aretha: and the cause that moved them to say this was, because she red and declared the doctrine of Socrates in such wise, that it seamed to most men she had rather write by hand, then learn by study. Boccace in the second book of the praise of women saith, that this Aretha was so excellent a woman, that she did not only learn for herself, but also to teach others: & did not only teach in divers Schools, but also she wrote many and sundry books, one inespecially in the praise of Socrates, an other of the manner of bringing up children, an other of the wars of Athens, an other of the tyrannical force, an other of the common wealth of Socrates, an other of the infelicities of women, an other of the tillage of the ancients, an other of the wonders of mount Olympus, an other of the vain care of the Sepulchre, an other of the provision of the Ants, an other of the workmanship of the Bees in honey: and she wrote two others the one of the vanities of youth, and the other of the miseries of age. This woman did read openly natural & moral philosophy in the Schools of Athens, for the space of five & twenty years: she made forty books, she had a hundred & ten philosophers to her Scholars, she died being at the age of seventy and seven years, & the Athenians after her death, engraved on her grave these words.  

THe slised stones within their bowels keep  
Wise Aretha, the great and only wight  
That forceth envy gentle tears to weep.  
For Greeks decay, on whom the loss doth light.   

The eye of fame, the heart of virtues life  
The head of Grece, lie here engraved, lo  
more heavenly form than had that heavenly wife  
Which undermined the phrigies joys with woe.   

Within the chest of her unspotted mind  
Lay Thirmas' troth, and eke her honest faith  
Within her hand (as by the gods assigned)  
Stood Aristippus, pen that virtue weigheth.   

Within the dungeon of her body eke  
Imprisonde was, wise Socrates his soul  
That lived so well, and did so wisely speak  
That folly's breast, he could to wisdom toll.   

Within her head so over heaped with wit  
Lay Homer's tongue, to stain the poets art  
Erst was the golden age not half so fit  
For virtues Imps, as when her life did part.   
As Marcus Varro sayeth, the sects of the philosophers were more than lxx but in the end they were reduced into seven, and in the end they were brought into three sects chief. That is to weet, Stoicques, Peripaeticques, and Pithagoricques. Of these pithagoricques, Pythagoras was the prince. Hyzearcus, Annius Rusticus and Laertius, with Eusebius and Boccace, all affirm one thing, whereunto I did not greatly give credit, which is: that this philosopher Pythagoras had a sister, not only learned, but (if it be lawful to speak it) excellently learned. And they say, that not she of Pythagoras, but Pythagoras of her learned philosophy. And of truth it is a matter whereof I was so greatly abashed, that I can not tell who could be master of such a woman: since she had Pythagoras the great philosopher to her scholar. The name of the woman was Theoclea, to whom Pythagoras her brother, wrote & sent a letter, when he red philosophy at Rhodes, and she at Samothracia doing the like. The Pistol was thus as followeth.   

¶ Of a letter which Pythagoras sent to his sister Theoclea, he being in Rhodes, & she in Samothracia, reading both philosophy. Cap. xxix.  
Pithagoras' thy brother, and disciple, to thee Theoclea his sister, health and increase of wisdom wisheth. I have read the book which thou didst send me, of fortune and misfortune, from the beginning to the end: and now I know that thou art no less grave in making, then gracious in teaching. The which doth not chance very oft to us, which are men: and much less (as we have seen) to you women. For the philosopher Aristippus was rude in speaking, & profound in writing: & Amenides was brief in writing, and eloquent in speaking. Thou hast studied and written in such sort, that in the learning that thou showest, thou seamest to have read all the philosophers: and in the antiquities that thou dost declare, it seemeth that thou hast seen all the time past. Wherein thou being a woman showest thyself more than a woman: because the nature of women is, to cast their eyes only in that that is present, and commonly to forget that that is past. They tell me that thou dost occupy thyself now in writing of our country. And truly in this case I can not say but that you have matter enough to write on: For the wars and travails of our times have been such, and so great, that I had rather read them in books, then see them with my eyes. And if it be so, as I suppose it is, I beseech thee heartily, and by the immortal Gods I conjure thee, that in writing the affairs of thy country thou dost use thy pen discretely. I mean, that thou do not in this case bleamyshe thy writing, by putting therein any flattery, or lesinge. For oftentimes Historiographers, in blazing more than troth the gifts of their country: cause worthily to be suspected their writing. Thou knowest very well, how that in the battle passed the Rhodians were overcome, and that ours remained victorious. Me thinketh thou shouldest not in this case greatly magnify, extol, or exalt ours, because in the end they fought to revenge their injury: neither thou oughtest to blame the Rhodians, for they did not fight but in the aid of Rome. I speak this (my Sister) because for to defend their own, women show themselves lions: and for to defend the things of an other man, men show themselves chickens. For in the end he only may be counted strong, the which defendeth not his own house: but which dieth defending his, and another man's. I will not deny the natural love of my country, nor I will not deny but that I love them that write, and speak well thereof: but me thinketh it is not reason, that they should dispraise the goodness and truth of other countries, nor that they should so highly commend the evil and vileness of their own. For there is not in the world this day so barren a Realm, but may be commended for some thing therein: nor there is so perfit a nation, but in some things may be reproved. Thou canst not deny me, but that amongst thy brethren I am the eldest, and thou canst not deny but that amongst all thy disciples I am the youngest: and since that for being thy disciple I ought to obey thee, thou like wise for that I am thy eldest brother oughtest to believe me. By the faith of a people I do council thee, my sister, that thou do travail much to be profound in thy words, upright in thy life, and honest of thy person: and besides all this, true in thy writing. For I let thee understand, that if the body of the man without the soul is little regarded: I swear unto thee that the mouth of a man, without truth, is much less esteemed.   

¶ The author followeth his purpose, persuading princesses and other ladies to endeavour themselves to be wise, as the women were in old tyme. Cap. thirty.  
THis therefore was the letter, the which Pythagoras sent to his sister Theoclea, whereby is showed the great humility of him, and the high eloquence of her. Hiarcus the Greek, and plutarch also in the book of the government of princes say, that Pythagoras had not only a sister (which was called Theoclea) of whom he learned so much philosophy, but also he had a daughter, the wisdom and knowledge of whom surmounted her aunt, and was equal to her father. I think it no less uncredible which is spoken of the daughter, then that which is spoken of the aunt, which is that those of Athenes did rejoice more to hear her speak in her house, then for to hear Pythagoras read in the school. And it ought to be believed: for the saying of the grave authors on the one part: and by that we daily see on the other part. For in the end, it is more pleasure to hear a man tell merry tales, having grace and comeliness in his words: then to hear a grave man speak the truth, with a rude and rough tongue. I have found in many writings, what they have spoken of Pythagoras, and his daughter: but none telleth her name, save only in a pistle that Phalaris the tyrant wrote, I found this word written, where he saith. Polichrata, that was the daughter of the philosopher Pythagoras, was young, and exceeding wise, more fair than rich and was so much honoured for the purity of her life, and so high esteemed for her pleasant tongue: that the word which she spoke spinning upon her distaff, was more esteemed: then the philosophy that her father red in the school. And he said more. It is so great a pity to see, and hear that women at this present are in their life so dishonest, & in their tongues so malicious: that I have greater pleasure in the good renown of one that is dead, then in the infamy of all them which are alive. For a good woman is more worth with her distaff spinning, than a hundred evil queens, with their royal sceptres reigning. By the words which Phalaris said in his letter, it seamed that this daughter of Pythagoras was called Polichrate. Pythagoras therefore made many commentaries, as well of his own country, as of strangers. In the end he died in Mesopotamia, where at the hour of his death he spoke unto his daughter Polichrate, & said these words. I see my daughter that the hour wherein I must end my life approacheth. The Gods gave it me, and now they will take it from me: nature gave me birth, & now she giveth me death: the earth gave me the body, and now it returneth to ashes. The woeful fatal destinies gave me a little goods, mingled with many travails, so that (daughter) of all things which I enjoyed in this world, I carry none with me: for having all as I had it, by the way of borrowing: now at my death each man taketh his own. I die joyfully not for that I leave thee rich: but for that I leave thee learned. And in token of my tender heart, I bequeatheth unto the all my books, wherein thou shalt find the treasure of my travails. And I tell thee that that I give thee, is the riches gotten with mine own sweat: and not obtained to the prejudice of an other. For the love I bear unto thee, daughter I pray thee, and by the immortal gods I conjure thee, that thou be such, & so good, that although I die, yet at the least thou mayst keep my memory: for thou knowest well what Ho●ere saith, speaking of Achilles, and Pirrus, that the good life of the child that is alive, keepeth the renown of the father that is dead. These were the words which this philosopher spoke unto his daughter lying in his death bed. And though perhaps he spoke not these words: yet at the least this was the meaning. As the great poet Mantuan saith, king evander was father of the giant Pallas, and he was a great friend of king Aeneas, he vaunted himself to descend of the lineage of the Trojans: and therefore when king Aeneas, & prince Turnus, had great wars between them, which of them should have the princess Lavinia in marriage, (the which at that time was only heir of Italy) king Evander aided Aeneas, not only with goods: but also sending him his own son in person. For the friends ought for their true friends, willingly to shed their blood, & in their behalf without demanding, they ought also to spend their goods. This king evander had a wife so well learned, that that which the Greeks said of her seemeth to be fables. That is to say (of her eloquence & wisdom) for they say, that if that which this woman wrote of the wars of Troy, had not been through envy cast into the fire: the name of Homer had at this day remained obscure. The reason hereof is, because the woman was in the time of the destruction of Troy, and wrote as a witness of sight.  
These words passed between the Roman Calphurnius and the poet Cornificius. I desire to declare the excellency of those few ancient women (as well Greeks, as Latins, & Romans) to th'intent that princesses, and great ladies may know, that the ancient women were more esteemed for their sciences, then for their beauties. Therefore the princesses and great Ladies ought to think that if they be women, they were also in like manner: and if they be frail, the others were also weak. If they be married, the other also had husbands: if they have their wills, the other had also what they wanted: if they be tender, the others were not strong: Finally they ought not to excuse themselves, saying that for to learn women are unmeet. For a woman hath more ability to learn sciences in the schools: then the Parate hath to speak words in the cage. In my opinion princesses & great ladies ought not to esteem themselves more than an other, for that they have fairer hears then other, or for that they are better apparelled then an other: or that they have more riches than an other. But they ought therefore to esteem themselves, not for that they can do more than others. To say the truth, the fair and yellow hears, the rich and brave apparel, the great treasures, the sumptuous palaces and strong buildings, these and other like pleasures are not guides and leaders to virtues, but rather spies & scout watches for vices. O what a noble thing were it, that the noble ladies would esteem themselves not for that they can do: but for that that they know. For it is more commendation to know how to teach two philosophers: then to have authority to command a hundred knights. It is a shame to write it, but it is more pity to see it, that is to weet, to read that we read of the wisdom and worthiness of the ancient matrons passed, and to see as we do see the frailness of these young ladies present. For they coveted to have disciples both learned and experimented: and these of this present desire nothing but to have servants not only ignorant, but deceitful and wicked. And I do not marvel seeing that which I see, that at this present in court she is of little value & lest esteemed among ladies, which hath fairest servants, & is lest entertained of gentlemen. What shall I say more in this matter but that they in times past strive who should write better, & compile the best books: and these at this present do not strive, but who shall have the richest and most sumptuous apparel. For the ladies think it a iolier matter, to wear a gown of a new fachion: then the ancients did to read a lesson of philosophy. The ancient ladies strive which of them was wisest: but these of our days contend who shallbe fairest. For at this day the ladies would choose rather to have the face adorned with beauty, than the heart endued with wisdom. The ancient ladies contented which should be better able to teach others: but these ladies now a days contend how they may most finely apparel themselves. For in these days they give more honour to a woman richly apparelled, than they give to an other with honesty beautified. Finally with this word I do conclude, and let him mark that shall read it, that in the old time women were such, that their virtues caused all men to keep silence: and now their vices be such, that they compel all men to speak. I will not by this my word any man should be so bold in generally to speak evil of all the ladies: for in this case I swear, that there are not at this day so many good virtuous women in the world: but that I have more envy at the life they lead in secret, then at all the sciences which the ancient women red in public. Wherefore my pen doth not show itself extreme, but to those which only in sumptuous apparel and in vain words do consume their whole life: and to those which in reading a good book would not spend one only hour. To prove my intention of that I have spoken, the above written sufficeth. But to the end princesses and great ladies may see (at the ) how much better it shallbe for them to know little, then to have and possess much, and to be able to do more. I will remember than of that which a Roman woman wrote to her children, whereby they shall perceive how eloquent a woman she was in her sayings, and how true a mother in her counsel. For in the end of her letter she persuadeth her children to the travails of the war, not for any other cause, but to avoid the pleasures of Rome.   

Of the worthiness of the lady Cornelia, and of a notable epistle she wrote to her ii sons which served in the wars Tiberius, and Caius diswading them from the pleasures of rome, and exorting them to endure the travails of war. Chap. xxxi.  
ANnius Rusticus in the book of the antiquities of the Romans saith, that in Rome there were .v. principal lineages, that is to wit Fabritij, Torquatij, Brutij, Fabii, and Cornelij, though there were in Rome other new lineages, whereof there were many excellent personages: yet always these which came of the .v. lineages, were kept, placed, and preferred to the first offices of the common wealth. For Rome honoured those that were present in such sort, that it was without the prejudice of those that are gone. Amongst those .v. lineages, the romans always counted the Cornelij most fortunate, the which were so hardy and courageous in fight, and so modest in life, that of their family there was never found any cowardly man in the field, nor any defamed woman in the town. They say of this lineage of the Cornelii, among many other there were four singular and notable women among the which the chief was the mother of Gracchi whose name was Cornelia and lived with more honour for the sciences she read in Rome, then for the conquests that her children had in Africa. Before her children were brought into the empire, they talked of none other thing but of their strength & hardiness, throughout all the world: and therefore a Roman one day asked this woman Cornelia, whereof she took most vain glory, to see herself mistress of so many disciples, or mother of so valiant children. The lady Cornelia answered. I do esteem the science more which I have learned, than the Children which I have brought forth. For in the end, the children keep in honour the life: but the disciples continue the renown after the death.  
And she said further. I am assured that the disciples daily will wax better and better: and it may be that my Children will wax worse and worse. The desires of young men are so variable, that they daily have new inventions. With one accord all the writers do greatly commend this woman Cornelia, inespecially for being wise and honest, and furthermore because she red philosophy in Rome openly.  
And therefore after her death they set up in Rome a Statue, over the gate Salaria, whereupon there was graven this epigram.  
This heap of earth. Cornelie doth encloose  
Of wretched Gracches, that lo the mother was  
Twice happy in the sckollers, that she choose  
Unhappy thrice, in the offspring that she has.  
AMong the latins, Cicero was the Prince of all the Roman rhetoric, and the chiefest with his pen inditing of epistles: yet they say, that he did not only see the writings of this Cornelia, but read them, and did not only read them, but also with the sentences thereof profited himself. And hereof a man ought not to marvel: for there is no man in the world so wise of himself, but may further his doings with the advice of another, Cicero so highly exalted these writings, that he said in his rhetoric these or such other like words. If the name of a woman had not bleamyshed Cornelia, truly she deserved to be head of all philosophers. For I never saw so grave sentences proceed from so frail flesh. Since Cicero spoke these words of Cornelia, it can not be, but that the writings of such a woman in her time were very lively, and of great reputation yet notwithstanding there is no memory of her, but that an author for his purpose declareth an epistle of this manner. Sextus Cheronensis in his book of the praise of women, reciteth the letter which she sent to her children. She remaining in Rome, and they being at the wars in Africa.  

The letter of Cornelia to her ii sons Tiberius and Caius otherwise called Gracchi.  
COrnelia the Roman, that by thy father's side am of the Cornelii, & one the mother side of the Fabii: to you my ii sons. Gracchii, which are in that wars of Africa, such health to you do wish, as a mother to her children ought to desire. Ye have understood right well my children, how my father died, I being but iii years of age, and that this xxii years I have remained widow, and that this twenty years I have red Rhetoric in Rome. It is vii years sins I saw ye, and xii years sins your brethren my children died in the great plague. You know viii years are past since I left my study and came to see you in Cicilia, because you should not forsake the wars, to come see me in rome: for to me could come no greater pain, than to see you absent from the service of the common wealth. I desire my children to show you how I have passed my life in labour & travail, to the intent you should not desire to spend yours, in rest and idleness. For if to me that am in rome there can want no troubles: be ye assured that unto you which are in the wars shall want no perils. For in wars renown is never sold but by weight, or changed with loss of life. The young Fabius, son of my aunt the aged Fabia, at the iii kalends of March brought me a letter the which you sent: and truly it was more brief than I would have wished it. For between so dear children, and so loving a mother, it is not suffered that the absence of your parsons should be so far, and the letters which you writ so brief. By those that go from hence thither, I always do send you commendations: and of those that come from thence hither. I do inquire of news Some say they have seen you, other tell me they have spoken with you, so that with this my heart is somewhat quieted. For between them that love greatly, it may be endured that ●he sight be seldom, so that the health be certain. I am sole, I am a widow, I 〈◊〉 aged, and now all my kindred is dead: I have endured many travails in Rome, and the greatest of all is (my children) of your absence. For the pain is greater to be void of assured friends: them assault is dangerous of cruel enemies. Since you are young, and not very rich, since you are hardy, and brought up in the travails of Africa, I do not doubt but that you do desire to come to Rome, to see and know that now you are men, which you have seen when you were children. For men do not love their country so much, for that it is good: as they do love it, for that it is natural. Believe me children, there is no man living that hath seen or hard speak of Rome in times past: but hath great grief, sorrow, and pity, to see it at this present. For as their hearts are pitiefull, and their eyes tender: so they can not behold that without great sorrow, which in times past they have seen in great glory. O my children, you shall know that Rome is greatly changed from that it was wont to be. To read that that we do read of it in times past, & to see that which we see of it now present: we must needs esteem that which the ancients have written as a gest, or else believe it but as a dream. There is no other thing now at Rome, but to see justice corrupted, the comen weal oppressed, lies blown abroad, the truth kept under, the satires silent, the flatterers open mouthed, the inflamed persons to be Lords, and the patient to be servants, and above all, and worse than all, to see the evil live in rest & contented, and the good troubled & displeased. Forsake, forsake (my children) that city, where the good have occasion to weep, & the evil have liberty to laugh. I can not tell what to say in this matter, as I would say. Truly the common weal is at this day such & so woeful, that each wise man (without comparison) would have greater pleasure to be in the wars of Africa: then in the peace at Rome. For in the good war, a man seeth of whom he should take heed: but in the evil peace, no man knoweth whom to trust. Therefore my children, since you are natural of Rome. I will tell you what Rome is at this present. I let you know, that the vestal virgins are now dissolute, the honour of the gods is forgotten, the profit of the common weal no man seeketh, of the excercise of chivalry there is no memory for the orphans & widows there is no man that doth answer, to minister justice they have no regard, & the dissolute vices of the youth are without measure. Finally, Rome that in times past was a receipt of all the good & virtuous: is now made a den of all thieves & vicious. I fear me, I fear me, lest our mother rome in short time will have some sudden & great fall. And I say not without a cause some great fall, for both men & Cities, that fall from the top of their felicity, purchase greater infamy with those that shall come after: them the glory that they have had of them that be past. Peradventure (my children) you desire to see the walls & buildings of Rome: for those things which children see first in their youth, the same they love & keep always in memory until their age. As the ancient buildings of rome are destroyed, & the few that are now built: so would I you should lose your earnest affection to come to see them. For in deed, the noble hearts are ashamed to see that thing amiss, which they can not remedy. Do not think, my children, though Rome be made worse in manners, that therefore it is diminished in buildings. For I let you understand, if you know it not, that if a wall doth decay, there is no man that doth repair it. If a house fall, there is no man that will raise it up again. If a street be foul, there is no man that will make it clean. If the river carry away any bridge, there is no man that will set it up again. If any antiquity decay, there is no man that will amend it. If any would be cut, there is no man that will keep it. If the trees wax old, there is no man that will plant them a new. If the pavement of the streets be broken, there is no man that will lay it again. Finally there is nothing in Rome at this day so evil handled, as those things which by the common voices are ordered. These things (my children) though I do greatly lament (as it is reason) yet you ought little to esteem them all: but this all only aught to be esteemed, & with drops of blood to be lamented. That now in Rome, when the buildings in many places fall down, the vices all wholly together are raised up. O woeful mother Rome, since that in thee, the more the walls decay, the more the vices increase. Peradventure (my children) since you are in those frountiers of Africa, you desire to see your parents here in Rome. And thereat I marvel not, for the love which our natural country do give, the strange country can not take away. All those which come from those parties do bring us no other certain news, but of the multitude of those which die & are slain in Africa, therefore since you send us such news from thence, look not that we should send you any other than the like from hence. For death hath such authority, that it killeth the armed in the wars: & slayeth the quiet in peace. I let you know that Licia your sister is dead. Drusio your uncle is dead. Torcquatus your neighbour is dead. His wife our cousin & her iii daughters are dead. Fabius' your great friend is dead. Evander & his children are dead. Bibulus which read for me in the chair the last year is also dead. Finally there are so many & so good with all that be dead: that it is a great shame & pity to see (at this present,) so many evil as do live Know ye my children, that all these and many others which ye left alive full high in rome: are now become worms meat full low under the earth, & death also doth summon me unto the grave. If you (my children) did consider what shall become of you hereafter, truly you will think it better to weep .1000. years with the dead: then to laugh one hour with those that be alive. Remembering that I ba●e ye in great pain, and have nourished you in great travel, & that ye came of my proper intrailles: I would have you as children about me for the comfort & consolation of my pains. But in the end beholding the prowesses of those that are paste, that bindeth their heirs, I am content to suffer so long absence your persons, only to the end you may get honour in chivalry. For I had rather here tell you should live like knights in Africa: them to see you utterly lost here in Rome. My children, as you are in the wars of Africa, so I doubt not but that you desire to se the pleasures of rome: for there is no man in this world so happy, but at his neighbours prosperity had some envy, envy not the vicious, neither desire to be among vices: for truly vices are of such a condition that they bring not with them so much pleasure when they come: as they leave sorrow behind them when they depart, for that true delight is not in the pleasure which suddenly vanisheth: but in the truth which evermore remaineth. I thank the immortal gods for all these things, first for that they made me wise & not foolish: for to a woman it is a small matter to be called so frail, that in deed she be not foolish. The second I thank the gods, because in all times of my troubles, they have given me patience to endure them: for the man only in this life may be called unhappy, to whom the gods in his troubles hath not given patience. The third, I thank the gods for that those .lxv. years which I have lived, I never hitherto was defamed: for the woman by no reason can complain of her fortune, if in none of her troubles she hath lost her honour. The fourth, I thank the Gods that in this forty years I have lived in Rome, & remained widow, there was never man nor woman the contended with me: for since we women profit little the common wealth, it is but reason that she which with evil demeanoures' hath passed her life should by justice receive her death. The fift I give the gods thanks, that they gave me children, the which are better contented to suffer the travails of Africa: them to enjoy the pleasures of Rome. Do not count me (my children) for so unloving a mother, that I would not have you always before my eyes: but considering that many good men's children have been lost, only for being brought up in the excessive pleasures of Rome, I do content myself with your absence. For that man that desireth perpetual renown, though he be not banished, he ought to absent himself from his native country. My dear children, I most earnestly desire you, that always you accompany yourselves with the good, with the most ancients, and with those which are grave & most expert in council, and with those that have most seen the world: and do not understand most of the world, by those that have seen most countries. For the ripe council proceedeth not from the man that hath travailed in many countries: but from him that hath felt himself in many dangers. Since the nature of the country (my children) doth knock with the hammer at the gate of the heart of man, I fear that if you come and see your friends & parents, you shall always live in care & pensiveness, and being pensive you shall always live evil contented, & you shall not do that which becometh Roman knights to do. And you not being valiant knights, your enemies shall always rejoice over you, & your desires shall never take effect: for of those men which are careful & heavy, proceedeth always services unworthy. I desire you heartily, & by this present letter I counsel you, that you will not in any wise seek to come to rome: for as I have said you shall know few of those that did know you, for either they are dead or banished, poor or sick, aged or come to nought, sad or evil contented: so that sithence you are not able to remedy their griefs, it is best you should not come hither to see their troubles. For no man cometh to Rome but to weep with the living, and to sigh for them that be dead. Truly (my children) I know not what pleasure is in Rome that should cause any good man to come hither and to forsake Africa: for if there you have enemies, here you shall want friends. If you have the sword that pierceth the body, we have that tongue here that destroyeth the renown. If you be vexed with the thieves of Africa, we are wounded with the traitors, Flatterers, and liars of Italy. If you lack rest, we have here to much trouble. finally seeing that that I do see in Rome, and hearing that which I hear of Africa: I commend your war, and abhor our peace. If you do greatly esteem that which I have said, esteem much more that which I shall say, which is, that we always here that you are conquerors of the Africkans, & you shall here always that we are conquered by vices. Therefore if I am a true mother, I had rather see you win a perpetual memory among strangers: them to live with infamy at home in your country. Peradventure with hope that you shall inherit some goods you will take occasion to come to Rome. When this thing shall come to your minds, remember (my children) that your father being alive had not much, and that unto your mother being a widow many things wanted. And remember that your father bequeathed you nothing but weapons, and know that from me you shall inherit nothing but books. For I had rather leave my children good doctrine whereby they may live: them evil riches whereby they may perish. I am not rich, nor I never travailed to be rich, and the cause was that I saw many men's children undone, only through the hope they had to inherit their parent's goods, and afterward went a hunting after vices. For they seldom times do any worthy feats, which in their youth inherit great treasures. This thing therefore being true (as it is in dead) I do not say only that I would watch, and toil as many do to get riches and treasures: but also if I had treasure, before I would give them unto you, I would (as the philosopher did) cast them into the fire. For I had rather have my children poor and virtuous in Africa: them rich and vicious in Rome. You know very well my children that there was amongst the Tharentins a law well observed, that the sons should not inherit any other thing of their fathers but weapons to fight: and that the daughters should inherit the goods for to marry themselves with all. Truly this law was very just, for the son that hath always respect to the inheritance: will not have to his father any great confidence. For he ought to be called a valiant Roman knight that with his life hath won honour, and by the sword hath gotten riches. Since you are in strange realms, I pray you heartily that you be conversant with the good (as good brethren) remembering always that you were my children, and that I gave you both, suck of mine own proper breasts. And the day that I shall here of your disagreement, the same day shallbe the end of my life. For the discord in one city of parents doth more harm: then a hole army of enemies. It is good for you (my children) to live in love & concord togethers: but it is more requisite to keep you with the Roman knights, The which with you, & you with them, if you do not love together in the wars: you shall never have the upper hand of your enemies. For in great armies, the discords which rise amongst them do more harm: then the enemies do against whom they fight. I think well (my children) that you would be very desirous to know of my estate (that is to weet) whether I am in health, whether I am sick, whether I am poor, whether I am pleased, or whether I am miscontented. In this case I know not why you should desire to know it, since you ought to presuppose that according to the troubles which I have passed, & the miseries that with mine eyes I have seen, I am filled with this world: for wise men after .50. years and upward, ought rather to apply their minds how to receive death: them to seek pleasures to prolong life. When man's flesh is weak, it always desireth to be well kept even unto the grave. And as I am of flesh & bone: so I do feal the troubles of the world, as all mortal men do. But for all this do not think that to be poor or sick is the greatest misery, neither think that to be hole & rich is the chiefest felicity: for there is none other felicity of the old fathers, but for to see their children virtuous. In my opinion it is an honour to that country, that the fathers have such children, which will take profit with their counsel: & contrary wise that the children have such fathers which can give it them. For the child is happy that hath a wise father, & more happy is the father that hath not a foolish son. I do write oft times unto you my children, but there is a law that none be so hardy to write to men of war in the field, except first they inrowle the letters in the senate. Therefore since I writ unto you more letters than they would, they do send less than I desire. Though this law be painful to mothers which have children: yet we must confess it is profitable for the weal public.  
For if a man should write to one in the war, that his family is not well: he would forsake the wars to remedy it. If a man write unto him that it is prosperous, he hath then a desire to enjoy it. Be not displeased (my children) though all the letters I do send unto you come not to your hands: For all that I do not cease to visit the temples for your own health, nor yet to offer sacrifices to the Gods for your honour. For if we do please the gods, we have not cause to fear our enemies. I say no more in this case, my children, but that I beseech the immortal Gods, that if your lives may profit the common wealth, than they shorten my days and lengthen your years: but if your lives should be to the damage of the common wealth, than those immortal gods I desire that first I may understand the end of your days, before that the worms should eat my flesh. For rather then by your evil life the glory of our predecessors should be bleamished: it were much better both your lives were ended. The grace of the Gods, the good renown amongst men, the good fortune of the Romans, that wisdom of the Greeks the blessing of Scippio, & of all other your predecessors be always with you my children.    

Of the education and doctrine of children whiles they are young. Wherein the author declareth many notable histories. Chap. xxxii.  
ALl mortal men which will travel, and see good fruit of their travel, aught to do as the chief artificer did that painted the world: For the man that maketh god the head of his works, it is unpossible that he should err in the same. That which we believe, and read by writing, is that the eternal created the world in short space by his might: but preserved it a long time by his wisdom. Whereof a man may gather, that the time to do a thing is short: but the care and thought to preserve it, is long. We see daily, that a valiant captain assaulteth his enemies: but in the end it is god that giveth the victory, but let us ask the conqueror, what travel it hath been unto him, or wherein he hath perceived most danger (that is to weet) either to obtain the victory of his enemies, or else to preserve themselves amongst the envious and malicious. I swear, and affirm, that such a knight will swear, that there is no comparison between the one and the other: for by the bloody sword in an hour the victory is obtained: but to keep it with reputation, the sweet of all the life is required Laertius in the book of the life of the philosophers declareth, and Plato also hereof maketh mention, in the books of his common wealth, that those of Thebes understanding that the Lacedæmonians had good laws (for that which they were of the gods favoured, and of men greatly honoured) determined to send (by common assent and agreement) a wise philosopher, the best esteemed amongst them (whose name was Phetonius) to whom they commanded, that he should ask the laws of the Lacedæmonians, and that he should be very circumspect and aware to see what their rules and customs were.  
Those of Thebes were then very noble, valiant, and honest: so that their principal end was, to come to honour & renown, to erect buildings, & to make themselves of immortal memory for being virtuous. For in building they were very curious: and for virtues they had good Philosophers. The philosopher Phetonius was more than a year in the realm of the Lacedæmonians, beholding at sundry times all things therein: for simple men do not note things, but only to satisfy the eyes: but the wise men beholdeth them, for to know and understand their secrettes. After that the philosopher had well & plainly seen and beheld all the things of the Lacedæmonians: he determined to return home to Thebes, and being arrived, all the people came to see him and here him. For the vanity of the common people is of such a quality, that it followeth new inventions: and despiseth ancient customs. All the people therefore gathered togethers, the good philosopher Phetonius set up in the midst of the market place a gibbet, hoot irons, a sword, a whip, and fetters for the feet: the which thing done, the thebans were no less as they thought slandered, than abashed. To the which he spoke these words. You Thebains sent me to the Lacedæmonians, to the intent I should learn their laws and customs, and in deed I have been there more than a year, beholding all things very diligently: for we Philosophers are bound, not only to note that which is done, but also to know why it is done know ye thebans, that this in the answer of my Embassage.  
That the Lacedæmonians hang upon this Gybet thieves, with this same sword they behede traitors, with these hoot Irons they torment blasphemers, and liars, with these rods they whip vagabonds, and with these Irons do keep the rebels, and the others are for players, and unthrifts. Finally I say that I do not bring you the laws written, but I bring you the Instruments wherewith they are observed.  
The thebans were abashed to see these things, and spoke unto him such words. Consider Phetonius we have not sent the to the Lacedæmonians, to bring instruments to take away life: but for the good laws to govern the common wealth. The philosopher Phetonius replied again, & answered. thebans, I let you weet, that if ye know what we philosophers knew, you should see how far your minds were from the truth: For the Lacedæmonians are not so virtuous, thorough the laws which were made of them that be dead: as for the means they have sought, to preserve them that be alive. For matters of justice consist more in execution, then in commanding or ordaining. Laws are easily ordained, but with difficulty executed: for there are a thousand to make them, but to put them in execution there is not one. Full little is that which men know that are present: in respect of that those knew which are past. But yet according to my little knowledge, I proffer to give as good laws to you Thebains, as ever were observed among the Lacedæmonians. For there is nothing more easy, then to know the good: and nothing more comen, then to follow the evil. But what profiteth it if one will ordain, and none understand it: If there be that doth understand them, there is none that excuteth them. If there be that executeth them, there is none that observeth them. If there be one that observeth them, there is a thousand that reproveth them. For without comparison, more are they that murmur & grudge at the good, than those which blame and despise the evil. You thebans are offended, because I have brought such Instruments but I let you weet, if you will neither Gybet, nor sword to keep that which shallbe ordained, you shall have your books full of laws, and the common wealth full of vices.  
Wherefore I swear unto you, that there are more thebans which follow the deliciousness of Denis the tyrant: then there are virtuous men that follow the laws of Lycurgus. If you Thebains do desire greatly to know, with what Laws the Lacedæmonians: do preserve their common wealth: I will tell you them all by word, and if you will read them, I will show you them in writing. But it shallbe upon condition, that you shall swear all openly, that once a day you shall employ your eyes to read them, and your parsons to observe them. For the prince hath greater honour, to see one only law to be observed in deed: then to ordain a thousand by writing. You ought not to esteem much to be virtuous in heart, nor to inquire of the virtue by the mouth, nor to seek it by labour and travail of the feet: but that which you ought greatly to esteem, is to know what a virtuous law meaneth, and that known, immediately to execute it, and afterwards to keep it. For the chief virtue is not to do one virtuous work: but in sweat and travail to continue in it. These therefore were the words that this philosopher Phetonius said to the thebans. The which (as Plato sayeth) esteemed more his words that he spoke: then they did the laws which he brought. Truly in my opinion, those of Thebes are to be praised and commended: and the philosopher for his words is worthy to be honoured. For the end of those was to search laws to live well, and the end of the Philosophet was to seek good means for to keep them in virtue. And therefore he thought it good to show them, and put before their eyes the gibbet, and the sword, with the other instruments and torments. For the evil do refrain from vice more for fear of punishment, then for any desire they have of amendment. I was willing to bring in this History, to th'end that all curious and virtuous men may see and know, how little the ancients did esteem the beginning, the mean, and the end of virtuous works, in respect of the perseverance and preservation of them. Coming therefore to my matter, which my pen doth toss and seek: I ask now presently, what it profiteth princes and great ladies, that God do give them great estates, that they be fortunate in marriages, that they be all reverenced and honoured, that they have great treasures for their inheritances, and above all that they see their wives great with child, & that afterwards in joy they see them delivered: that they see their mother's giving their children suck, & finally they see themselves happy in that they have found them good nurses, healthful & honest. Truly all this availeth little, if to their children (when they are young) they do not give masters to instruct them in virtues: and also if they do not recomend them to good guides, to exercise them in feats of Chivalry. The fathers which by sighs penetrate the heaven: by prayers importune the Living god only for to have children, aught first to think why they will have children: for that justly to any man may be denayed, which to an evil end is procured. In my opinion, the father ought to desire to have a child, for that in his age he may sustain his life in honour: & that after his doth he may cause his fame to live. And if a father desireth not a son for this cause, at the least he ought to desire him, to the end in his age he may honour his hoary head: and that after his death he may inherit his goods, but we see few children do these things to their fathers in their age: if the fathers have not taught them in their youth. For the fruit doth never grow in the harvest: unless the tree did bear blosommes in the spring. I see oftentimes many fathers complain of their Children, saying that they are disobedient and proud unto them: and they do not consider that they themselves are the cause of all those evils. For to much abundance and liberty of youth is no other: but a prophesy & manifest token of disobedience in age. I know not why princes and great lords do toil, and oppress so much, and scratch to leave their children great estates, and on the other side we see that in teaching them, they are and show themselves to negligent: for princes & great lords ought to make account, that all that which they leave of their substance to a wicked heir is utterly lost. The wise men, and those which in their consciences are upright, and of their honours careful, ought to be very diligent to bring up their children, & chief that they consider whether they be meet to inherit their estates. And if perchance the fathers see that their children be more given to folly, then to nobleness and wisdom: then should I be ashamed to see a father that is wise, travail all the days of his life, to leave much substance to an evil brought up child after his death. It is a grief to declare, and a monstrous thing to see, the cares which the fathers take to gather riches: and the diligence that children have to spend them. And in this case I say, the son is fortunate for that he doth inherit, and the Father a fool for that he doth bequeath.  
In my opinion Fathers are bound to instruct their Children well, for two causes: the one for that they are nearest to them, and also because they ought to be their heirs. For truly with great grief and sorrow I suppose he doth take his death: which leaveth to a fool or an unthrift the toil of all his life.  
Hyzearcus the Greek hystorien in the book of his antiquities, and Sabellyquus in his general history sayeth, that a father and a son came to complain to the famous philosopher and ancient Solon Solinon: the son complained of the father, and the father of the son.  
First the son informed the quarrel to the Philosopher, saying these words. I complain of my father, because he being rich hath disherited me, and made me poor, and in my stead hath adopted another heir, the which thing my father ought not, nor cannot do. For sense he gave me so frail flesh, it is reason he give me his goods to maintain my feebleness. To these words answered the father. I complain of my son, because he hath not been as a gentle son, but rather as a cruel enemy, for in all things since he was borne, he hath been disobedient to my will, wherefore I thought it good to disherit him before my death. I would I we●e quite of all my substance, so that the gods had quite him of his life: for the earth is very cruel that swalloweth not the child alive, which to his father is disobedient. In that he sayeth I have adopted another child for mine heir, I confess it is true: and for so much as he sayeth that I have dysinheryted him, and abjected him from my heritage, he being begotten of my own body, hereunto I answer.  
That I have not disinheryted my son, but I have disinheryted his pleasure, tothentent he shall not enjoy my travail: for there can be nothing more unjust, then that the young and vicious son should take his pleasure, of the sweat and drops of the aged father. The son replied to his father, and said. I confess I have offended my father, and also I confess that I have lived in pleasures: yet if I may speak the truth, though I were disobedient and evil, my father ought to bear the blame: and if for this cause he doth dysherite me, I think he doth me great injury. For the father that instructed not his son in virtue in his youth: wrongfully dysheryteth him, though he be disobedient in his age. The father again replieth, and saith. It is true my son, that I brought the up to wanton in thy youth, but thou knowest well that I have taught the sundry times, and besides that I did correct the when thou camest to some discretion. And if in thy youth I did not instruct the in learning, it was for that thou in thy tender age didst want understanding: but after that thou hadst age to understand, discretion to receive, and strength to exercise it: I began to punish thee, to teach thee, and to instruct the. For where no understanding is in the child, there in vain they teach doctrine. Sense thou art old (quoth the son) and I young, sense thou art my father, and I thy son, for that thou hast white heres of thy beard, and I none at all: it is but reason that thou be believed, & I condemned. For in this world we see oftentimes, that the small aucthoryty of the parson, maketh him to lose his great justice. I grant thee (my father) that when I was a child, thou didst cause me to learn to read: but thou wilt not deny, that if I did commit any fault, thou wouldst never agree I should be punished. And hereof it came, that thou suffering me to do what I would in my youth, have been disobedient to the ever since in my age. And I say to the further, that if in this case I have offended truly me thinketh thou canst not be excused: for the fathers in the youth of their children, ought not only to teach them to dispute of virtues, and what virtue is: but they ought to enforce them to be virtuous in deed. For it is a good token when youth (before they know vices) hath been accustomed to practice virtues. Both parties thou diligently hard, the good Philosopher Solon Solinon spoke these words I give judgement that the father of this child be not buried after his death: and I command that the son, because in his youth he hath not obeyed his father who is old, should be dysinheryted whiles the father liveth from all his substance, on such condition, that after his death, his sons should inherit the heritage, and so return to the heirs of the son and line of the father. For it were unjust, that the innocency of the son should be condemned, for the offence of the father. I do command also, that all the goods be committed unto some faithful parson, to th'end they may give the father meat and drink during his life, and to make a grave for the son after his death. I have not with out a cause given such judgement, the which comprehendeth life and death: for the Gods will not, that for one pleasure the punishment be double, but that we chastise and punish the one in the life, taking from him his honour and goods: and that we punish others after there death, taking from them memory and burial.  
Truly the sentence which the Philosopher gave was grave, and would to God we had him for a judge of this world presently: for I swear, that he should find many children now a days for to disherit, and more fathers to punish. For I cannot tell which is greater, the shame of the children to disobey their fathers: or the negligence of the fathers in bringing up their children. Sextus Cheronensis in the second book of the sainges of the Philosophers declareth, that a citizen of Athens said on day to Dyogenes the Philosopher these words. Tell me Diogenes, what shall I do to be in the favour of the gods, and not in the hatred of men? for oft times amongs you Philosophers I have hard say, that there is great difference between that that the Gods will, and that which men love. Diogenes answered. Thou speakest more than thoughtest to speak, that the gods will one thing, and men another: for the gods are but as a centre of mercy, and men are but as a den of malice, if thou wilt enjoy rest in thy days, and keep thy life pure and clean: thou must observe these three things.  
The first, honour thy gods devoutly. For the man which doth not serve and honour the gods, in all his enterprises he shallbe unfortunate.  
The second, be very diligent to bring up thy children well. For the man hath no enemy so troublesome, as his own son, if he be not well brought up.  
The third thing, be thankful to thy good benefactors and friends. For the Oracle of Apollo sayeth, that the man who is unthankful, of all the world shallbe abhorred. And I tell the further my friend, that of these three things the most profitable (though it be more troublesome) is for a man to teach and bring up his children well.  
This therefore was the answer that the Philosopher Diogenes made to the demand of the citizen. It is great pity and grief, to see a young child how the blood doth stir him, to see how the flesh doth provoke him to accomplish his desire, to see sensuality go before, and he himself to come behind, to see the malicious world to watch him, to see how the devil doth tempt him, to see how vices bind him, and in all that which is spoken, to see how the father is negligent as if he had no children: where as in deed the old man, by the few virtues that he hath had in his youth: may easily know the infirmities and vice's, wherewith his son is compassed. If the expert had never been ignorant, if the fathers had never been children, if the virtuous had never been vicious, if the fine wits had never been deceived, it were no marvel if the Fathers were negligent in teaching their children. For the little experience excuseth men of great offences: but since thou art a father, and that first thou were a son, since thou art old, and hast been young, and besides all this, since that pride hath inflamed thee, lechery hath burned thee, wrath hath wounded thee, negligence hath hindered thee, covetousness hath blinded thee, and gluttony surfeited thee, tell me cruel father, since so many vices have reigned in thee: why hast thou not an eye to thy child, whom of thy own blood thou hast begotten? And if thou dost it not because he is thy child, thou oughtest to do it because he is thy nearest. For it is unpossible that the child which with many vices is assaulted, and not succoured: but in the end he should be infamed and to the dishonour of the father most wickedly overcome. It is unpossible to keep flesh well favoured, unless it be first salted. It is unpossible that the fish should live without water. It is unpossible but that the Rose should wither, which is of the thorn overgrown. So like it is unpossible that the fathers should have any comfort of their children in their age, unless they have instructed them in virtue in their youth. And to speak further in this matter I say, that in the Christian catholic religion, where in deed there is good doctrine, there always is supposed to be a good conscience. Amongst the writers it is a thing well known, how Eschines, the philosopher was banished from Athens, and with all his family came to dwell at Rhodes. The occasion was, because that he and the philosopher Demosthenes were in great contention in the common wealth. Wherefore the Athenians determined to banish the one, and to keep the other with them. And truly they did well, for of the contentions and debates of sages, wars most commonly arise amongst the people. This philosopher Eschines being at Rhodes banished, amongst others made a solemn oration, wherein he greatly reproveth the Rhodians that they were so negligent in bringing up their children, saying unto them these words. I let you understand (Lords of Rhodes) that your predecessors advanced themselves to descend, and to take their beginning of the Lides: the which above all other nations were curious and diligent to bring up their children: and hereof came a law that was among them, which said.  
We ordain and command, that if a father have many children, that the most virtuous should inherit the goods, and riches: and if there were but one virtuous, that he alone should inherit the whole. And if perchance the children were vicious, that then all should be deprived from the heritage. For the goods gotten with travail of virtuous fathers, ought not by reason to be inherited with vicious children. These were the words that the philosopher spoke to the Senate of the Rhodes: and because he said in that Oration many other things which touch not our matter, I will in this place omit them. For among excellent writers, the writing loseth much authority, when the author from his purpose digresseth into an other matter. To say the truth, I do not marvel that the children of princes and great lords be adulterers, and belly gods: for that on the one part youth is the mother of Idleness, and on the other, little experience is the cause of great offences. And furthermore the father's being once dead, the children inherit their goods as quietly, being laden with vices: as if in deed they were with all virtues endued. If the young children did know for a certain, that the laws of the Lydes should be observed (that is to wit) that they should not inherit, unless they be virtuous: it is unpossible but that they would lead a good life, and not in this wise to run at large in the world. For they do abstain more from doing evil, fearing to lose that which they do possess: then for any love to do that which they ought. I do not denay, but according as the natures of the fathers is divers, so the inclinations of the children are variable. For so much as some following their good inclination are good, & others not resisting evil sensualities are evil. But yet in this matter I say, that it lieth much in the father that doth bring them up, when as yet they are young: so that the evil which nature gave, by good bringing up is refrained. For oftentimes the good custom, doth overcome all evil inclination. Princes and great lords that will be diligent in the instruction of their children, aught to inform their masters and tutors that shall teach them, to what vices and virtues their children are most inclined: and this aught to be, to encourage them in that that is good, and contrary to reprove them in all that is evil. For men are undone for no other cause when they be old: but for that they had so much pleasures when they are young. Sextus Cheronensis in the second book of the sayings of the auntientes saith, that on a day a citizen of Athens was buying things in the market, and for the quality of his person, the greatest part of them were superfluous and nothing necessary. And in this case the poor are no less culpable than the rich: and the rich than the poor. For that is so little, that to sustain man's life is necessary: that he which hath lest, hath thereunto superfluous. Therefore at that time, when Athens and her common wealth was the lantern of all Grece, there was in Athens a law long used, and of great time accustomed: that nothing should be bought before a philosopher had set the price. And truly the law was good, and would to God the same law at this present were observed: for there is nothing that destroyeth a common wealth more, then to permit some to sell as tyrants, and others to buy as fools. When the Theban was buying these things, a philosopher was there present, who said unto him these words. Tell me I pray thee, thou man of Thebes, wherefore dost thou consume and waste thy money, in that which is not necessary for thy house, nor profitable for thy person? the Theban answered him. I let the know, that I do buy all these things for a son I have of the age of twenty years, the which never did thing that seamed unto me evil, nor I never denayed him any thing that he demanded. This philosopher answered. O how happy were thou, if as thou art a father, thou were a son, and that which the father saith unto the son, the son would say unto the father: but I am offended greatly with that thou hast told me. For until the child be xxv years old, he ought not to gainsay his father: and the good father ought not to condescend unto the appetites of the son. Now I call the cursed father, since thou art subject to the will of thy son: and that thy son is not obedient to the will of his father, so that thou alterest the order of nature. For so much as the father is son of his son, and the son is father of his father. But in the end, I swear unto thee by the immortal Gods, that when thou shalt become old, thou shalt weep by thyself at that which with thy son thou didst laugh when he was young. Though the words of this philosopher were few: yet a wise man will judge the sentences to be many. I conclude therefore, that princes and great lords ought to recommend their children to their masters, to th'end they may teach them to change their appetites, and not to follow their own will: so that they withdraw them from their own will, and cause them to learn the advise of an other. For the more a man giveth a noble man son the bridle, the more harder it is for them to receive good doctrine.   

¶ Princes aught to take heed that their children be not brought up in vain pleasures and delights. For oftentimes they are so wicked, that the fathers would not only have them with sharp discipline corrected: but also with bitter tears buried. Chap. xxxiii.  
BY experience we see, that in war (for the defence of men) rampires & forts are made according to the quality of the enemies, & those which sail the dangerous seas, do chose great ships, which may break the waves of the raging Sea: so that all wise men according to the quality of the danger, do seek for the same in time some remedy. oftentimes I muse with myself, and think if I could find any estate, any age, any land, any nation, any realm, or any world, wherein there hath been any man that hath passed this life, without tasting, what adversity was: for if such a one were found, I think it should be a monstrous thing throughout all the earth, and by reason both the dead and living should envy him. In the end, after my count made, I find that he which yesterday was rich, to day is poor: he that was hole, I see him to day sick: he that yesterday laughed, to day I see him weep: he that had his hearts ease, I see him now sore afflicted: he that was fortunate, I see him unlucky: finally, him whom we knew alive in the town, now we see buried in the grave. And to be buried is nothing else, but to be utterly forgotten: for man's friendship is so frail, that when the corpse is covered with earth, immediately the dead is forgotten. One thing me thinketh to all men is grievous, & to those of understanding no less painful, which is, that the miseries of this wicked world are not equally divided, but that oftentimes all worldly calamities lieth in the neck of one man alone. For we are so unfortunate, that the world giveth us pleasures in sight, & troubles in proof. If a man should ask a sage man now a days, who hath lived in mean estate, & that he would be contented to tell him what he hath passed, since three years that he began to speak, until fifty years that he began to wax old: what things think you he would tell us, that hath chanced unto him? truly all these that here follow The griefs of his children, the assaults of his enemies, the importunities of his wife, the wantonness of his daughters, sickness in his person, great loss of goods, general famine in the city, cruel plagues in his country, extreme cold in winter, noisome heat in summer, sorrowful deaths of his friends, & envious prosperities of his enemies: finally he will say, that he passed such & so many things, that oftimes he bewailed the woeful life, & desired the sweet death. If the miserable man hath passed such things outwardly, what would he say of those which he hath suffered inwardly? the which though some discrete men may know, yet truly others dare not tell. For the travails which the body passeth in fifty years, may well be counted in a day: but that which the heart suffereth in one day, cannot be counted in a hundred years. A man cannot denay, but that we would count him rash, which with a read would meet an other that hath a sword: & him for a fool, that would put of his shoes to walk upon the thorns. But without comparison we ought to esteem him for the most fool, that with this tender flesh thinketh to prevail against so many evil fortunes: for without doubt, the man that is of his body delicate, passeth his life with much pain. O how happy may that man be called, which never tasted what pleasure meaneth. For men which from their infancy have been brought up in pleasures, for want of wisdom know not how to choose the good, & for lack of force cannot resist the evil: which is the cause, that noble men's children ofttimes commit sundry heinous offences. For it is an infallible rule, that the more a man giveth himself to pleasures, the more he is entangled in vices. It is a thing worthy to be noted, and woeful to see, how politic we be to augment things of honour, how bold we be to enterprise them, how fortunate to compass them, how diligent to keep them, how circumspect to sustain them, and afterward what pity is it to see, how unfortunate we are to lose all that, which so long time we have searched for, kept, and possessed. And that which is most to be lamented in this case is, that the goods and honour are not lost for want of diligence & travail of the father: but for the abundance of pleasures, and vices of the son. finally let the rich man know, that that which he hath won in labour and toil waking: his son (being evil brought up) shall consume in pleasures sleeping. One of the greatest vanities that reigneth at this day among the children of vanity is, that the father can not show unto his son the love which he beareth him, but in suffering him to be brought up in the pleasures and vanities of this life. Truly he that is such a one, ought not to be called a pitiful father, but a cruel stepfather: for no man will deny me this, but that where there is youth, liberty, pleasure, and money, there will all the vices of this world be resident. Lycurgus' the great king, giver of laws, and sage philosopher, ordained to the Lacedæmonians, that all the children which were borne in cities, & good towns, should be sent to bring up in villages till they were xxv years of age. As Livius saith that the Lygures were, which in old time were confederate with those of Capua, and great enemies to the people of Rome. They had a law amongst them, that none should take wages in the wars, unless he had been brought up in the fields, or that he had been a heard man in the mountains: so that through one of these two ways, their flesh was hardened, their joints accustomed to suffer the heat and the cold, and their bodies more meet to endure the travails of the wars. In the year of the foundation of Rome, a hundred and forty, the Romans made cruel wars with the Lygures, against whom was sent Gneus Fabritius, of the which in the end he triumphed: and the day following this triumph, he spoke unto the Senate these words. Worthy Senators I have been these five years against the Ligures, and by the immortal gods I swear unto you, that in all this time there passed not one week, but we had either battle, or some perilous skermiche. And that which a man ought most to marvel at is, that I never perceived any fear or cowardliness to be in those barbarous people, whereby they were constrained to demand peace of the people of Rome. These Lygures pursued with such fierceness the wars, that oftentimes they took away from us all hope to win the victory: for between armies, the great might of the one, doth put always the others in fear. And I will tell you (father's conscript) their bringing up, to the end the Roman youth should take hereby example. When they are young, they are put to be shepherds because they should accustom their flesh in the mountains to endure travail: by the which custom they are so much masters of themselves (the country being always full of snow & Ice in the winter, & also noisome through the extreme heat in the Summer that I swear by the god Apollo, in all this time of five years, of those we have not seen one press to the fire in the winter, nor covet the shadow in the summer. Do not ye think worthy Senators, that I was willing to declare unto you these things in the Senate, for any desire I have that you should esteem any thing the more my triumph: but I do tell it you to this end, that you may have an eye, and take head to your men of war, to the end they may always be occupied, and that you suffer them not to be idle. For it is more perilous for the Roman armies, to be overcome with vices: then to be discomfited with their enemies. And to talk of these matters more at large, me thinketh they should provide & command, that rich men should not be so hardy to bring up their children to delicately: for in the end, it is unpossible that the delicate person should win with his hands, the honour of many victories. That which moved me to say so much as I have said (worthy Senators) is to the end you may know, that the Ligures were not overcome by the power of Rome: but because fortune was against them. And since in nothing fortune showeth herself so variable, as in the things of war: me thinketh that though the Ligures are now vanquished & overcome, yet notwithstanding you ought to entertain them in love, & to take them for your confederates. For it is not good council, to hazard that into the hands of fortune, which a man may compass by friendship. The author of this which is spoken, is called junius Pratus, in the book of the concord of Realms, and he saith in that place, that this captain Gneus Fabritius, was counted no less sage for that he spoke: then esteemed valiant for that he did. In the old time, those of the Isles Balleares (which now are called Maiorque, and Minorque) though they were not counted wise: yet at the least in bringing up their children, they showed themselves not negligent. Because they were brought up in hardness in their youth, and could not endure all painful exercises of the wars. Those of Carthage gave five prisoners of Rome, for one slave of Maiorque. Diodorus Siculus saith, in those Isles, the mother did not give the children bread with their own hands: but they did put it on an high pole, so that they might see the bread with their eyes, but they could not reach it with their hands. Wherefore when they would eat, they should first with hurling of stones, or slinges win it, or else fast. Though the work were of children: yet the invention came of a high wit. And hereof it came that the Balleares were esteemed for valiant men, as well in wrestling, as in slings for to hurl: for they did hurl with a sling to hit a white, as the Lygures shoot now in a cross bow to hit the prick. Those of great Britain, which now we call England, amongst all the Barbarous, were men most barbarous: but you ought to know, that within the space of few years, the Romans were vanquished of them many times. For time in all things bringeth such change & alteration, that those which once we knew great lords: within a while after we have seen them slaves. Herodian in his history of Severus Emperor of Rome saith, that an Ambassador of Britain being one day in Rome (as by chance they gave him a froward answer in the Senate) spoke stoutly before them all, and said these words. I am sorry you will not accept peace, nor grant truce: the which thing shallbe for the greater justification of our wars. For afterwards none can take, but that which fortune shall give. For in the end the delicate flesh of Rome shall feel, if the bloody sword of Britain will cut. The English history saith, and it is true, that though the country be very cold, and that the water freezeth oft: yet the women had a custom to carry their children where the water was frozen, & breaking the Ice with a stone, with the same Ice they used to rub the body of the infant, to the end to harden their flesh, and to make them more apter to endure travails. And without doubt they had reason, for I wish no greater penitence to delicate men, then in the winter to see them without fire: and in the Summer to want fresh shadow. Sith this was the custom of the britains, it is but reason we credit julius Caesar in that he saith in his commentaries, that is to weet, that he passed many dangers before he could overcome them: for they with as little fear did hide themselves, and dived under the cold water, as a very man would have rested himself in a pleasant shadow. As Lucanus and Appianus Alexandrinus say, amongst other nations which came to secure the great Pompey in Pharsalia, were the Messagetes, the which (as they say) in their youth did suck no other, but the milk of Camels: and eat bread of Acorns. These barbarous did these things to the end to harden their bodies, to be able to endure travail, and to have their legs lighter for to run. In this case we can not call them barbarous, but we ought to call them men of good understanding: for it is unpossible for the man that eateth much, to run fast. Viriatus (a spaniard) was king of the Lusytaines, and a great enemy of the Romans, who was so adventurous in the war, & so valiant in his person, that the Romans (by the experience of his deeds) found him unvincible. For in the space of xiii years they could never have any victory of him: the which when they saw, they determined to poison him, & did so in deed. At whose death they more rejoiced, then if they had won the signory of all Lusitanie. For if Viriatus had not died, they had never brought the Lusitaines under their subjection. junius Rusticus in his epitome saith, that this Viriatus in his youth was a herd man, & kept cattle by the river of Guadiana, & after that he waxed older, used to rob, & assault men by the high ways. And after that he was xl years of age, he became king of the Lusitaines, and not by force, but by election. For when the people saw themselves enuirouned and assaulted on every side with enemies: they chose rather stout, strong, and hardy men for their captains, then noble men for their guides. If the ancient historiographers deceive me not, when Viriatus was a thief, he led with him always at the least a hundred thieves: the which were shod with leaden shoes, so that when they were enforced to run, they put of their shoes. And thus although all the day they went with leaden shoes, yet in the night they ran like swift bucks: for it is a general rule, that the loser the joints are, the more swifter shall the legs be to run. In the book of the jests of the Lombard's, Paulus Diaconus sayeth, that in the old time those of Capua had a law, that until the children were married, the fathers should give them no bed to sleep on, nor permit them to sit at the table to eat: but that they should eat their meats in their hands, and take their rest on the ground. And truly it was a commendable law, for rest was never invented for the young man which hath no beard: but for the aged, being lame, impotent, and crooked. Quintus Cincinatus was second Dictator of Rome, and in deed for his deserts was the first emperor of the earth. This excellent man was brought up in so great travail, that his hands were found full of knots, the plough was in his arms, and the sweat in his face when he was sought to be Dictator of Rome. For the ancients desired rather to be ruled of them that knew not, but how to blow the ground: then of them that delighted in nothing else, but to live in pleasures among the people. Caligula which was the fourth emperor of Rome (as they say) was brought up with such cost and delicateness in his youth, that they were in doubt in Rome, whether Drusius Germanicus his father employed more for the Armies: then Calligula his son spent in the cradle for his pleasures. This rehearsed again, I would now know of princes & great lords what part they would take (that is to wit) whether with Cincinatus, which by his stoutness wan so many strange countries: or with Caligula, that in his filthy lusts spared not his proper sister. In mine opinion, there needeth no great deliberation to answer this question (that is to weet) the goodness of the one, and the wickedness of the other: for there was no battle but Cincinatus did overcome, nor there was any vice but Caligula did invent. Suetonius Tranquillus in the second book of Caesar's saith, that when the children of the Emperor Augustus Cesar entered into the high capitol, where all the senate were assembled, the Senators rose out of their places, and made a reverence to the children, the which when the Emperor Augustus saw, he was much displeased, and called them back again. And on a day being demanded why he loved his children no better, he answered in this wise. If my children will be good, they shall sit hereafter where I sit now: but if they be evil, I will not their vices should be reverenced of the Senators. For the authority & gravity of the good, ought not to be employed in the service of those that be wicked. The 26. Emperor of Rome was Alexander, the which (though he was young) was as much esteemed for his virtues amongst the Romans: as ever. Alexander the great was for his valiantness amongst the Greeks. We can not say, that long experience caused him to come to the government of the common wealth, for as Herodian saith in his sixth book, the day that the Senators proclaimed him emperor, he was so little that his own men bore him in their arms. That fortunate Emperor had a mother called Mamea, the which brought him up so well, & diligently, that she kept always a great guard of men to take heed, that no vicious man came unto him. And let not the diligence of the mother to that child be little esteemed: For princes oft times of their own nature are good, & by evil conversation only they are made evil. This worthy woman keeping always such a faithful guard of her child, that no flatterers should enter in to flatter him, nor malicious to tell him lies: bychaunce on a day a Roman said unto her these words. I think it not meet (most excellent princess) that thou should be so diligent about thy son, to forget the affairs of the common wealth: for princes ought not to be kept so close, that it is more easy to obtain a suit at the gods, then to speak one word with the prince.  
To this the Empress Mamea answered, and said. They which have charge to govern those that do govern, without comparison ought to fear more the vices of the king: thenne the enemies of the Realm. For the enemies are destroyed in a battle, but vices remain during the life, and in the end, enemies do not destroy but the possessions of the land, but the vicious prince destroyeth the good manners of the common wealth. These words were spoken of this worthy Roman. By the histories which I have declared, and by those which I omit to recite, all virtuous men may know, how much it profiteth them to bring up their children in travails, or to bring them up in pleasures. But now I imagine, that those which shall read this, will praise that which is well written: and also I trust they will not give their children so much their own wills. For men that read much, & work little: are as bells the which do sound to call others, and they themselves never enter into the church. If the fathers did not esteem the service they do unto God, their own honour, nor the profit of their own children: yet to preserve them from diseases, they ought to bring them up in virtue, & withdraw them from vices. For truly the children which have been brought up daintily, shall always be diseased and sikely. What a thing is it to see the son of a labourer, the cote without points, the shirt tottered and torn, their feet bare, their head without a cap, the body without a girdle, in summer without a hat, in winter without a cloak, in the day ploughing, in the night driving his herd, eating bread of Rye or Oats, lying on the earth, or else on the straw: and in this travail to see this young man so holy & virtuous, that every man desireth and wisheth, that he had such a son. The contrary cometh of noble men's sons, the which we see are nourished & brought up between two fine holland sheets, laid in a costly cradle, made after the new fashion: they give the nurse what she will desire, if perchance the child be sick, they change his nurse, or else they appoint him a diet. The father and the mother sleep neither night nor day, all the house watcheth, they let him eat nothing but the broth of chyckins, they keep him diligently that he fall not down the stairs, the child asketh nothing but it is given him immediately. Finally they spend their time in serving them: they waste their riches in giving them their delights, they occupy their eyes but to behold them, & they employ not their hearts, but to love them. But I swear, that those fathers (which on this wise do spend their riches to pomper them) shall one day water their eyes to bewail them: What it is to see the waist, that a vain man maketh in bringing up his child? specially if he be a man somewhat aged, & that at his desire hath a child borne. He spendeth so much goods in bringing his up wanton, whiles he is young: that oft times he wanteth to marry him when he cometh to age. And that which worst of all is, that that which he spendeth and employeth he thinketh it well bestowed, and thinketh that to much that he giveth for god's sake.  
Though the fathers are very large in spending, the mothers very curious, and the norces full of pleasures, and the servants very diligent and attentive: yet it followeth not that the children should be more hole than others. For the more they are attented, the more they be deceased: the more they eat, the more they are weak: the more they rejoice, the worse they prosper: the more they wast and spend, so much less they profit. And all this is not without the secret permission of God. For God will not that the clouts of children be of greater value, than the garments of the poor. God without a great mystery took not in hand the custody of the poor, and doth not suffer that the children of the rich men should prosper: For the good bringeth up his children without the prejudice of the rich, and to the profit of the common wealth: but the rich bringeth up his children with the sweat of the poor, and to the damage of the common wealth. Therefore if this thing be true (as it is) it is but reason that the wolf which devoureth us do die: and the sheep which clotheth us do live. The fathers oft times for tenderness will not teach nor bring up their children in doctrine, saying that as yet he is to young, and that there remaineth time enough for to be learned, and that they have leisure enough to be taught: and further for the more excuse of their error they affirm, that when the child in his youth is chastened, he runneth in danger of his health. But the evil respect which the fathers hath to their children, God suffereth afterwards that they come to be so slanderous to the common wealth, so infamous to their parents, so disobedient to their fathers, so evil in their conditions, so unadvised and light in their behaviour, so unmeet for knowledge, so uncorrigible for discipline, so inclined to lies, so envying the truth: that their fathers would not only have punished them with sharp correction: but also they would rejoice to have them buried with bitter tears. another thing there is in this matter worthy to be noted, and much more worthier to be commended, that is, that the Fathers and mothers under the colour that their children should be somewhat gracious, they learn them to speak, to babble, & to be great mockers and scoffers, the which thing afterwards redoundeth to the great infamy and dishonour of the Father, to the great peril of the son, and to the greatest grief and displeasure of the mother. For the child which is brought up wanton without doctrine in his youth: of necessity must be a fool when he is old. If this which I have said be evil, this which I will say is worse: that the Fathers, and mothers, the governors, or nurses, do teach them to speak dishonest things, the which are not lawful, and therefore ought not to be suffered to be spoken in that tender age: nor the gravity of the ancients ought not to listen unto them. For there are no men (unless they be shameless) that will permit their children to be great babblers. Those which have the charge to govern good men's children ought to be very circumspect, that they keep them in awe, fear & subjection, & that they ought not to be contented, though the fathers say they are pleased. For the disordinate love that the fathers have to them, is the cause that they cannot see whether they be mockers or evil brought up. And if it chanced (as ofttimes it doth) that the father should come to the master to cause him to withdraw correction, in this case, if the master be a wise man, he ought no less to reprove & admonish the father: then to correct the son. And if this did not avail, I council him to forsake and leave his charge. For the man of an honest nature, after he hath taken any charge in hand, will either bring it to pass, or else he will die in the same. I will not denay, but that it is reason noble men's sons be more gently brought up, handled, and honoured, than the sons of the Plebeiens: for more delicately is the palm tree, which bringeth forth dates, cherished: then the oak which bringeth forth Acorns, wherewith the hogs are nourished. Let princes and great lords beware, that the pleasures which they gave their children in their youth, be not so excessive, nor of so long continuance: that when they would withdraw them, the world hath not already festered them. For the children brought up with to much delicateness, are disobedient to their fathers and mothers, or else they are sick in their bodies, or worse then that, they are vicious in their behaviours: so that their fathers should be better to bury them quick, then to bring them up vicious.   

¶ That princes and greet Lords ought to be careful in seeking wise men to bring up their children. Of ten conditions that good School masters ought to have. Cap. xxxiiii.  
WHen he that is without end, gave beginning to the world, in this sort he began. The Sunday he created heaven and earth, The monday he created the element, the Tuesday he created the planets, the Wednesday he created the Son and the Moon, the Thursday he created the birds in the air, and the fishes in the sea, the friday he created Adam and Eve his wife, and truly in that he created, and how he created, he showed himself as God. For as soon as the house was made, he fornished & peopled it with that that was necessary, as he could well do. Omitting therefore the creator, and talking of creatures: we see by experience, that a householder in planting a vinyeard, immediately maketh a hedge, to the end that the beasts do not hurt it, and eat it up. And when it is well grown he hireth some poor labourer to watch, that travailers do not gather nor eat the grapes thereof. The rich man that traffiqueth by sea, after he hath made a great ship, and bestowed vi. or seven. thousand ducats, if he be wise, he will first provide a man that may govern her, before he will seek merchandise for to fraite her: for in perilous tempests the greatness of the ship little availeth, if the pilot thereof be not expert. The householder that hath many cows and sheep, and likewise hath fair fields, and pleasant pastures for his cattle, doth not only seek herdsmen to keep the cattle, but also dogs to fear the wolves, and cabannes to lodge the herdsmen. For the cabanne of the shepherds, and the baying of the dog, is but as a safeguard of the sheep, from the ravening of the wolf. The mighty and valiant princes which in the frontiers of their enemies keep strong fortresses, seek always stout and hardy captains to defend their walls: for otherwise it were better the fort should be battered to the ground, than it should come into the power of the enemies. By the comparisons above named, there is no discreet man but doth understand to what end my pen doth write them: that is: to know to keep, and prove, how that men which love their children well (adding this unto it) have great need of good masters and governors, to teach and bring them up. For whiles the palm tree is but little, a frost doth easily destroy it. I mean while the child is young if he have no tutor: he is easily deceived with the world. If the lord be wise, and of understanding, there is no fortress so esteemed, neither ship so fair, nor herd so profitable, nor vine so fruitful, but that he better esteemeth to have a good son than all these things together, or any other thing in the world. For the father ought to love his children as his own proper: and all residue as gifts of fortune. If it be so (as it is in dead) since that for to keep and watch the herd they seek a good shepherd, if for the vine they seek a good labourer, if for to govern the ship they seek a good master, and for to defend a fort they seek a good captain: why then will not the wise fathers seek for good masters, to teach & bring up their children? O princes and great lords, I have now told you, and again do say, that if you travail one year to leave your children goods: you ought to sweat 50 years to leave them well brought up. For it availeth little to carry much corn to the mill: if the mill be out of frame. I mean that in vain riches and treasures are gathered: when the child that shall inherit them, hath not wit to use them. It is no small matter to know how to choose good governors. For the prince is sage, that findeth such a one: and much more happy is he, that of him shall be taught. For in my opinion, it is no small charge for one man to bring up a Prince that shall govern many. As Seneca saith, the wise man ought to confer all things with his friend, but first he ought to know who he is that is his friend. I mean, that the wise father ought for his children to seek one good master, and to him he should recommend them all: but first he ought to know what he is. For that man is very simple which will buy a horse, before he see & prove him, whether he be hole or lame. He ought to have many and good conditions and qualities, that should bring up the children of princes and great lords: for by one way they nourish the tender trees in the orchard, & after another sort they plant the wild trees in the mountains. Therefore the case shallbe this, that we will declare here what conditions, and behaviours the masters and governors of noble men's sons ought to have, which may bring them to honour, and their disdoundeth to the honour and praise of his master.  
The first condition is, that he which ought to be tutor to noble men's sons, should be no less than 40. years of age, & no more than 60 because the master that is young, is ashamed to command, & if he be aged he is not able to correct.  
The .2. it is necessary that tutors be very honest, & that not only in pureness of conscience: but also in the outward appearance, and cleans of life. For it is unpossible that the child be honest, if the master be dissolute,  
The 3. it is necessary that tutors and governors of princes and great lords, be true men, not only in their words: but also in their covenants. For to say the truth, that mouth which is always full of lies, ought not by reason to be a teacher of the truth.  
The 4. condition, it is necessary that the governors of princes & great lords (of their own nature) be liberal: for oft times the great covetousness of masters, maketh the hearts of princes to be greedy and covetous.  
The 5. it is necessary that the masters and governors of princes, & great lords, be moderate in words & very resolute in sentences: so that they ought to teach the children to speak little, & to hearken much. For it is the chiefest virtue in a prince, to hear with patience, and to speak with wisdom.  
The 6. condition is, it is necessary that the masters and governors of princes and great lords be wise men, and temperate: so that the gravity of the master, may restrain the lightness of the Scholars, for there is no greater plagues in Realms, then for princes to be young, and their masters to be light.  
The 7. it is necessary that the masters and tutors of princes and great lords, be well learned in divinity, and humanity, in such sort that that which they teach the princes by word, they may show it by writing, to the end that other princes may execute and put the same in ure: for men's hearts are sooner moved by the examples of those which are past, then by the words of them that are present.  
The 8. condition, it is necessary that the masters and tutors of princes be not given to the vice of the flesh: for as they are young, and naturally given to the flesh, so they have no strength to abide chaste, neither wisdom to be ware of the snares. Therefore it is necessary that their masters be pure and honest: for the disciples shall never be chaste, if the master be vicious.  
The 9 it is necessary that the masters and tutors of Princes, and great lords, have good conditions, because the children of noble men (being daintily brought up) always learn evil conditions, the which their masters ought to reform, more by good conversation, then by sharp correction. For oftentimes it chanceth, that whereas the master is cruel, the scholar is not merciful.  
The .10. it is necessary that the masters and tutors of princes, and great lords, have not only seen and read many things: but also that they have proved changeable fortune. For since noble men's sons (by the gift of god) have great estates, they ought therefore to provide to speak to many, to answer to many, and to entreat with many, and it is very profitable for them to be conversant with expert men, for in the end, the approved man in council hath pre-eminence. I was willing to bring in these rules in my writing, to the end that fathers may keep them in their memory, when they do seek masters to teach their children: for in my opinion, the father is more in fault to seek an evil master, than the master is to make an evil scholar. For if I choose evil tailors to cut my gown, it is my fault that the cloth is lost, and my gown marred. Albeit the Romans were in all their doings circumspect, yet for this one thing, I must envy the good doctrine which they gave to noble men's children. For without doubt, it is unpossible that in any city there by a good common wealth, unless they are very circumspect to bring up young children. Sabellicus in his rhapsodies saith, that in the 415 years of the foundation of Rome. Qintus Servilius, and Lucius Geminus then consuls, being in the war against the Volces the stout adventurous captain Camillus, there rose a great strife, and contention in Rome amongst the people, and the knights: and that contention was upon the provision of offices. For in great common wealths it hath been an ancient quarrel, that in knights and gentlemen there surmounteth pride in commanding: and among the people there wanteth patience in obeying.  
The knights and gentlemen would they should choose a Tribune Millitare in the senate, to speak in the name of all the knights, that were absent and present: for they said, that sense they were always at the war, the whole common wealth remained in the power of the people. The commons on the other part importuned, and desired, that a new officer should be created, the which should have the charge to examine and take account how the youth of Rome were brought up: because the common people did accuse the knights, & gentlemen, that the longer they remained in the wars, the more sensually their children lived in Rome. It was decreed then, that a Tribune Millitare should be erected, the which in authority and dignity should be equal with the senators, & that he should represent the state of warlike knights: but that office continued no longer than four years in Rome (that is to weet) till the time that Camillus returned from the wars. For things that are grounded of no reason, of themselves they come to nought. All the knights & gentlemen sought to the uttermost of their power, to maintain their pre-eminence: & on the other side all the commonalty of Rome was against it. In the end, the good captain Camillus called all the knights & gentlemen to gathers and said unto them these words. I am greatly ashamed, to see that the stoutness should be so little of the Roman knights, that they should condescend to the will of the Plebians: for in deed the mighty do not get so much honour, to overcome the little: as the little do to strive with the great. I say that the strife & debate amongst you in Rome, doth displease me much: therefore (you knights) if you will not lose your honours, you must either kill them, or overcome them. You cannot overcome them, because they are many: & kill them you ought not, for in the end they are yours, & therefore there is no better remedy then to dissemble with them. For things which suffer no force, nor observe not justice, ought always (until convenient time) to be dissembled. The immortal gods did not create Roman knights to govern people: but to conquer Realms. And I say further, that they did not create us to teach laws to ours: but to give laws to strangers. And if we be the children of our fathers, & imitators of the ancient Romans: we will not content ourselves to command in Rome, but to command those which do command in Rome. For the heart of a true Roman: doth little esteem to see himself lord of this world: if he know that there is another to conquer. You others did create this Tribune Millitare, we being in the war: whereof now there is no necessity, since we are in peace. And the cause why I was willing there should be none in the common wealth, was for that there was not riches in Rome sufficient to acquit the deserts of the Roman chivalry. And if you esteem, an honourable office, to be a Tribune Millitaire: since you cannot all have it, me thinketh you should all want it. For among the noble men & Plebeians it is not meet, that one alone should enjoy that, which many have deserved. This history Sabellicus declareth, & allegeth Pulio for his author, & reciteth, that for this good work that Camillus did in Rome (that is to weet) to set the great & the small at one: he was aswell beloved of that romans, as he was feared of the enemies. And not without a just cause: for in my opinion it is a greater virtue to pacify his own, then to rob strangers. As touching the office of this Tribune, whereupon this great contention rose in Rome I cannot tell which was greater, the foolish rashness of the knights to procure it, or the wisdom of Camillus to abbolish it. For to say the truth, the art of chivalry was invented more to defend the common wealth: then to bide at home, & have the charge of justice. For to the good knight it seemeth better to be laden with weapons to resist enemies: then to be environed with books to determine causes. Returning therefore to that which the people said against the soldiers, it was ordained (by the consent of all) that in Rome an office should be erected, and that he which should have it, should have the charge to go through Rome, to see what they were in Rome, that did not instruct their children in good doctrine: and if perchance he found any neighbour's child that was evil taught, he chastised and banished the father. And truly that punishment was very just, for the father deserveth more punishment, for that he doth thereunto consent: then the child deserveth more the offences which he doth commit. When Rome was Rome, & that of all the world the common wealth thereof was commended, they chose for an officer therein the most ancient & virtuous Roman, who was called the general vysiter of the children of Rome: & it seemeth to be true, for somuch as he which had this office one year, hoped to be consul, dictator. or censor the next. As it appeareth by Marcus Porcio, who desired to be corrector of the children: & afterwards succeeded to be censor of the Roman people. For the Romans did not offer the office of justice to any man, unless he had had experience of all offices. Patricius Senensis in the book of the common wealth saith, that before the wars were between Carthage & Rome, the common wealth of Carthage was very well governed, & as it be seemed such a noble city: but it is an ancient privilege of the war, that it killeth the persons, consumeth the goods, & above all, engendereth a new passion & misery: & in the end destroyeth all good ancient customs.  
The Carthagians therefore had a custom, that the children, and especially those which were of honest men, should be put in the temples from three years, till xii & so from xii till xx. they learned crafts, sciences, & occupations, and from twenty until xxv they instructed them in the feats of war: & at the end of thirty. years they gave themselves to marriage▪ For amongst them it was a law inviolable, that no man should marry until he were thirty. years of age: & the women xxv. And after that they were married, the month following they ought to present themselves before the Senate, & there to choose what kind of estate they would take upon them to live in, and what their minds most desired (that is to weet) if they would serve in the Temples, follow the war, or travail the seas, or get their living by land, or follow their occupation which they had learned. And look what estate or office that day they chose, the same they kept & occupied during their life: & truly the law was very good, because such change of estates & offices in the world, are occasion that presently so many come to destruction. All the excellent and ancient Princes had many great philosophers for their masters: & this seemeth to be true by this, that king Darius had Lichanius the philosopher for his master. The great Alexander had Aristotel the philosopher for his master. King Artaxerces had Pindarus the philosopher for his master. The adventurous and hardy captain of the Athenians Palemo had Xenocrates the Philosopher for his master. Xemiades (only king of the Corinthians) had Chilo the philosopher for his master and tutor to his children.  
Epamynundes, prince of the Thebaines, had for his master and councelloure Maruchus the Philosopher.  
Ulysses the Greek (as Homer saith) had for his master and companion in his travails, Catinus the philosopher.  
Pirrus (which was king of the Epirotes, and great defender of the Tharentines) had for his master and chronicler, Arthemius the philosopher. Of whom Cicero speaketh ad atticum, that his sword was sharper to fight, than his pen ready to write. The great king Ptholomeus Philadelphus was not only scholar of the most singular Philosophers of Grece: but also after he was king, he sent for 72. philosophers who were hebrews. Cirus king of the Persians, that destroyed the great Babylon, had for his master Pristicus the Philosopher. trajan the Emperor had plutarch for his master, who did not only teach him in his youth: but also wrote him a book, how he ought to govern himself & his common wealth. By these few examples which I have expressed, and by many other which I omit, Princes at this present may see, how careful princes were in times past, to give their children wise and learned men, O princes and great lords, since you that are at this present, do presume and take upon you that which your forefathers did: I would that now you would consider, who brought them to so high estate, and who leaveth of them eternal memory. For without doubt noble men never wan renown, for the pleasures they had in vices, but for the travails they had in virtues. Again I say, that princes in times past were not famous for their stoutness, and apt disposition of their bodies, neither for descent of high and noble lineage, nor yet for the possession of many realms: or heaping up of great treasures: but they wan & obtained immortal renown, for that their fathers in their youth put them under the tuition of wise and learned tutors, which taught them good doctrine, & when they were of age gave them good counsellors to govern the common wealth. Laertius in the life of the philosophers, & Boccase in the book of the lineage of gods say, That among the philosophers of Athens there was a custom, that no strange philosopher should read in their schools, before he wear first examined in natural and moral philosophy: for among the Greeks it was an ancient proverb, that in the school of Athens no vicious man could enter, nor idle word be spoken, neither they did consent that any ignorant philosopher should come in to read there. As by chance many philosophers were come from the mout Olympus, amongst the residue there was one came to see the philosophers of Athens, who was native of Thebes, a man (as afterwards he declared himself) in mortal & natural Philosophy very well learned: and since he desired to remain in Athens, he was examined, and of many and divers things demanded. And amongst the others these following were some of them.  
first they asked him, what causeth women to be so froward, since it is true that nature made them shamefast, and created them simple? the Philosopher answered. A Woman is not froward, but because she hath to much her will, and wanteth shame.  
Secondarily they asked him why young men are undone? he answered: because time aboundeth them for to do evil, and masters wanteth to enforce them to do good.  
Thirdly they asked him, why are wise men deceived aswell as the simple? he answered. The wise man is never deceived, but by him that useth fair words. and hath evil conditions.  
fourth they asked him, of whom men ought most to beware? he answered That there is to a man no greater enemy, than he which seeth that thing in thee, which he desireth to have in himself.  
Fifthly they asked him, why many princes begin well and end evil? he answered: princes begin well, because their nature is good: & they end evil, because no man doth gain say them.  
Sixtly they asked him, why do princes commit such follies? he answered: Because flatterers aboundeth that deceive them: & true men wanteth which should serve them.  
Seventhly they asked him, why the ancients were so sage, & men at this present so simple? he answered. Because the ancients did not procure but to know, & they present do not travail but for to have.  
Eightly they asked him, why so many vices were nourished in the palace of princes? he answered. Because pleasures abound, and council wanteth. The ninth, they asked him, why the most part of men lived without rest, & few without pain? he answered. No man is more without, & suffereth more pain: than he which dieth for the goods of another, & little esteemeth his own.  
The tenth they asked him whereby they might know the common wealth to be undone: he answered. There is no common wealth undone, but where the young are light, and the old vicious.  
The xi. they asked him wherewith the common wealth is maintained? he answered. The common wealth cannot decay, where justice remaineth for the poor, punishment for the tyrants, weight and measure plentiful: & chiefly, if there be good doctrine for the young, & little covetousness in the old. Affro the historiographers declareth this in the x book De rebus attheniensium. Truly in my opinion the words of this philosopher were few, but the sentences were many. And for none other cause I did bring in this history, but to profit me of the last word, wherein for answer he saith, that all the profit of the common wealth consisteth, in that there be princes that restrain the avarice of the aged: & that there be masters to teach the youthful. We see by experience, that if the brute beasts were not tied, & the corn & seeds compassed with hedges or ditches, a man should never gather the fruit when they are ripe. I mean, that strife & debate will rise continually among the people, if the young men have not good fathers to correct them, & wise masters to teach them We cannot deny, but though the knife be made of fine steel, yet sometimes it hath need to be whet: & so in like manner the young man, during the time of his youth, though he do not deserve it, yet from time to time he ought to be corrected. O princes & great lords, I know not of whom you take council when your son is borne, to provide him of a master & governor, whom you chose not as the most virtuous, but as the most richest: not as the most sagest, but as the most vile & evil taught. Finally, you do not trust him with your children that best deserveth it: but that most procureth it. Again I say, O princes & great lords, why do you not withdraw your children from their hands which have their eyes more to their own profit than their hearts unto your service. For such to enrich themselves, do bring up princes vyciously. Let not princes think that it is a trifle to know, how to find & chose a good master: & the lord which herein doth not employ his diligence, is worthy of great rebuke, And because they shall not pretend ignorance, let them beware of that man whose life is suspicious, and extreme covetous. In my opinion, in the palace of princes the office of tutorship ought not to begeven as other common offices, that is to weet, by requests or money, by privities or importunities, either else for recompense of services: for it followeth not though a man hath been ambassador in strange realms, or captain of great armies in war, or that he hath possessed in the royal palace offices of honour, or of estimation that therefore he should be able to teach, or bring up their children. For to be a good captain, sufficeth only to be hardy, and fortunate: but for to be a tutor, and governor of princes, he ought to be both sage, and virtuous.   

¶ Of the two. children of Marcus Aurelius the Emperor, of the which the best beloved died. And of the masters he provided for the other named Comodus▪ Chap. xxxv.  
MArcus Aurelius the xvii. Emperor of Rome, in that time that he was married with Faustine, only daughter of the Emperor Antonius Pius, had only two. sons, whereof the eldest was Comodus and the second Verissimus. Of these two. children the heir was Comodus, who was so wicked in the 13 years he governed the empire: that he seemed rather the disciple of Nero the cruel, then to descend by the mother's side: from Antonius the merciful, or son of Marcus Aurelius. This wicked child Comodus was so light in speech, so dishonest in parson, & so cruel with his people: that oft times (he being alive) they laid wagers that there was not one virtue in him to be found, nor any one vice in him that wanted. On the contrary part the second son named Verissimus, was comely of gesture, proper of person, & in wit very temperate: & the most of all was, that by his good conversation of all he was beloved. For the fair and virtuous princes by their beauty draweth unto them mens eyes: & by their good conversation they win their hearts. The child Verissimus was the hope of the common people, & the glory of his aged father: so that the Emperor determined that this child Verissimus should be heir of the Empire, and that the prince Comodus should be disherited. Whereat no man ought to marvel, for it is but just since the child doth not amend his life: that the father do disinherit him. When good will doth want, and vicious pleasures abound: the children oft times by perverse fortune come to nought. So this Marcus Aurelius being .52. years old, by chance this child Verissimus (which was the glory of Rome, & the hope of the father) at that gate of Hostia, of a sudden sickness died. The death of whom was as universally lamented: as his life of all men was desired. It was a pitiful thing to see, how woefully the father took the death of his entirely beloved son: & no less lamentable to behold how the senate took the death of their prince, being the heir. For the aged father for sorrow did not go to the Senate: and the senate for few days enclosed themselves in the high Capitol. And let no man marvel, though the death of this young prince was so taken through Rome: For if men knew what they lose when they lose a virtuous Prince, they would never cease to bewail and lament his death. When a knight, a gentleman a squire, an office, or when any of the people dieth, there dieth but one: but when a prince dieth, which was good for all, and that he lived to the profit of all, than they ought to make account that all do die, & they ought all greatly to lament it. For oft times it chanceth, that after two. or three good Princes, a foul flock of tyrants succeedeth. Therefore Marcus Aurelius the Emperor, as a man of great understanding, and of a princely parsonne, though the inward sorrow from the roots of the heart could not be plucked: yet he determined to dissemble outwardly, and to bury his griefs inwardly.  
For to say the truth, none ought (for any thing) to show extreme sorrow: unless it be that he hath lost his honour, or that his conscience is burdened. The good prince as one that hath his vineyard frozen, wherein was all his hope, contented with himself with that which remaineth, his so dearly beloved son being dead: & commanded the prince Comodus to be brought into his palace, being his only heir. julius Capitolinus, which was one of those that wrote of the time of Marcus Aurelius said upon this matter, that when the father saw the disordinate frailness, and lightness, and also the little shame which the prince Comodus his son brought with him: the aged man began to weep, and shed tears from his eyes. And it was, because the simpleness and virtues of his dear beloved son Verissimus came into his mind. Though this Emperor Marcus, for the death of his son was very sorrowful: yet notwithstanding this he provided, how his other son Comodus should be governed, & this before that either of age or body he were greater. For we cannot deny, but when Princes are men, they will be such as in their youth they have been brought up. The good father therefore knowing that the evil inclinations of his son should do him damage, & the empire in like manner: he sent throughout all Italy, for the most sagest & expert men, to be governors & Tutors of Comodus the prince. He made them seek for the most profoundest in learning, the most renowned of good fame, the most virtuous in deeds, and the most deepest in understanding: for as the dust is not swept with fine cloth, but with dry bromes: so the lightness & follies of young men are not remedied, but by the hard discipline of the aged. This commandment being published and proclaimed in Rome, & the bruit scattered through italy, there came and ran thither diverse kind of sages, whom he commanded to be examined. He being informed of the blood of their predecessors, of the age of their persons, of the government of their houses, of the spending of their goods, of their credit amongst their neighbours, of the sciences they knew, & above all, they were no less examined of the pureness of their lives, then of the gravity of their persons: for there are many men which are grave in open words, & very light in secret works. Speaking therefore more particularly, he commanded they should examine the Astronomers of Astronomy, the philosophers in philosophy, the musitines in music: the Orators in orations. And so forth of other sciences in order, wherein every one said he was instructed. The good emperor was not so contented to do this once but sundry times, not all in one day, but in many, not only by an other man, but also by himself.  
Finally they were all examined, as if they had been all one, and that the same one should have remained & been kept for all, to be only master & tutor of the young child and prince Comodus. To acquire a perfect knowledge, and to be sure not to err in choice of things, in my opinion is not only required experience of himself, and a clear understanding: but also the advise of an other. For the knowledge of things wholly together is easy: but the choice of them particularly is hard. This thing is spoken because the good Emperor sent, and commanded to choose governors and masters of his children. Of many he choose few, and of few the most wisest, of the most wisest the most expert, of the most expert the best learned, of the best learned the most temperate, of the most temperate the most ancient, and of the most ancient the most noble. Certainly such election is worthy praise, because they be true masters and teachers of princes, which are noble of blood, ancient in years, honest in life, men of little folly, and of great experience. According to the seven liberal sciences, two masters of every one were chosen, so that the prince was but one, and the others were xiiii but this notwithstanding, the works of this prince Comodus were contrary to the expectation of his father Marcus Aurelius, because the intention of the good father was to teach his son all sciences: and the study of the son was to learn all vices. At the bruit of so great a thing as this was, that the Emperor sought to provide tutors for the prince Comodus, and that they should not be those which were best favoured, but those which were found the most wisest: in short space there came so many philosophers to Rome, as if the divine Plato had been revived again in Grece. Let us not marvel at all, if the sages desired the acquaintance & familiarity of this good Emperor. For in the end, there is no man so sage, nor so virtuous in this life, but sometime will seek after the favours of the world. Since there were many sages, and that of those he chose but fourteen. It was necessary he should honestly and wisely dispatch and give the others leave, as did behove him. And herein the good emperor showed himself so wise, that showing to some a merry countenance, to others speaking gently, and to others by a certain hope, & to others by gifts & presents, all the good company of the sages departed: & the good emperor dispatched them, not one being sad which departed, but very well pleased. For it is not comely for the magnificence of a prince, that the man which cometh to his palace only for his service, should return murmuring, or without reward. This good emperor showed himself sage to seek many sages, he showed himself wise in the choice of some, & of a good understanding in dispatching others, & in contenting them all. For as we see daily by experience, though the elections be good, commonly great affections thereupon engender. For those, for not being chosen are sorry, & to see the others chosen are shamefast. In such case likewise, let it not be esteemed little to search a good remedy. For the goldsmith oft-times demandeth more for the workmanship, than the silver is worth: I mean, that sometime princes do deserve more honour for the good means they use in their affairs: then for the good success whereunto it cometh. For the one adventure guideth, but the other wisdom advanceth. The good emperor not contented with this, provided that those xiiii philosophers which should remain in his palace, should sit at the table, and accompany his person: the which thing he did, to see if their life were conformable to their doctrine, & if their words did agree to their works. For there are many men, which are of a goodly tongue, & of a wicked life. julius Capitolinus, and Cinna Catullus, which were writers of this history say, that it was a wonder to see how this good Emperor did mark them, to know if they were sober in feeding, temperate in drinking, modest in going, occupied in studying, and above all if they were very sage in speaking, and honest in living. Would to God the princes of our time were in this case so diligent, and careful: and that in committing in trust their affairs, they would not care more for one then for others. For speaking with due reverence, there aboundeth no wisdom in that prince, which committeth a thing of importance to that man whom he knoweth not, whether he is able to bring it to pass or not. Many talk evil, and marvel that princes and great lords in so many things do err: and for the contrary I marvel how they hit any at al. For if they committed their weighty affairs to skilful men, though perhaps they err once: yet they hit it a hundred times, but when they commit their business to ignorant men, if they hit once, they miss a thousand times again. In this case I say, there is nothing destroyeth young Princes more, then for that they commit not their affairs to their old and faithful servants: For in fine the unfeigned love is not, but in him that eateth the prince's bread daily. It is but reason, that other princes take example by this prince to seek good masters for their children: and if the masters be good, and the scholars evil, than the fathers are blameless. For to princes and great lords, it a great discharge of conscience, to see though their children be lost: yet it is not for want of doctrine, but for abundance of malice. The Roman prince had a custom to celebrate the feast of the God Genius, who was God of their birth, and that feast was celebrated every year once, which was kept the same day of the birth of the Emperor, joyfully throughout all Rome: for at this day all the prisoners were pardoned, and delivered out of the prison Mamortina. Yet notwithstanding you ought to know, that if any had sowed sedition among the people, or had betrayed the armies, or rob or done any mischief in their temples: those three offences were never pardoned nor excused in Rome. Even as in Christian religion the greatest oath is to swear by God, so amongst the Romans there was no greater oath, then to swear by the God Genius. And since it was the greatest oath none could swear it, but by the licence of the Senate: and that ought to be, betwixt the hands of the priests of the God Genius. And if perchance such an oath were taken of light occasion, he which swore it was in danger of his life. For in Rome it was an ancient law, that no man should make any solemn oath, but that first they should demand licence of the Senate. The Romans did not permit, that liars nor disceivers should be credited by their oaths: neither did they permit them to swear. For they said, that perjured men do both blaspheme the Gods and deceive men. The above named Marcus Aurelius was borne the xxvii day of April, in Mount Celio, in Rome. And as by chance they celebrated the feast of the God Genius, which was the day of his birth, there came masters offence, jugglers, and common players, with other loiterers, to walk and solace themselves. For the Romans in their great feasts, occupied themselves all night in offering sacrifices to the gods, and afterwards they consumed all the day in pastimes. Those jugglers and players, showed so much pastime, that all those which beheld them were provoked to laugh, and the Romans (to say the truth, were so earnest in matters of pastime, and also in other matters of weight that in the day of pastimes no man was sad, and in the time appointed for sadness no man was merry. So that in public affairs they used all to mourn, or else all to rejoice. Cinna Catullus saith, that this good Emperor was so well beloved, that when he rejoiced, all rejoiced: and when the Roman people made any great feast, he himself was there present, to make it of more authority, and showed such mirth therein, as if he alone and none other had rejoiced. For otherwise if the prince look sadly, no man dare show himself merry. The historiographers say of this good emperor, that in joyful feasts and triumphs they never saw him less merry, then was requisite for the feast: nor they ever saw him so merry, that it exceeded the gravity of his person. For the prince which in virtue presumeth to be excellent, ought neither in earnest matters to be heavy: nor in things of small importance to show himself light. As princes now a days go environed with men of arms: so did then the good Emperor go accompanied with sage philosophers. Yea and more than that, which ought most to be noted, is that in the days of feasts & pleasures, the princes at this present go accompanied with hungry flatterers: but this noble Emperor went accompanied with wise men. For the prince that useth himself with good company, shall always avoid the evil talk of the people. Sextus Cheronensis saith, that a Senator called Fabius Patroclus, seeing that the Emperor Marcus went always to the Senate and theatres, accompanied and environed with sages: said one day to him merrily. I pray thee (my lord) tell me, why thou goest not to the Theatre, as to the Theatre, & to the Senate, as to the Senate. For to the Senate Sages ought to go to give us good council: and to the theatres, fools to make us pastime. To this the good Emperor answered: my friend, I say thou art much deceived. For to the sacred Senate, wherein there are so many sages, I would lead all the fools to the end they might become wise: and to the theatres where all the fools are, I would bring the sages, to the end to teach them wisdom. Truly this sentence was fit for him that spoke it. I admonish princes and great lords, that in stead to keep company with fools, flatterers, & parasites, they provide to have about them wise and sage men, in especially if the fools be malicious: for the noble hearts with one malicious word are more offended: then if they were with a venomous arrow wounded. Therefore returning to our matter, as the emperor was in the feast of the god Genius, & that with him also were the xiiii sage philosophers, (masters of the prince Comodus) a juggler more cunning than all the rest, showed sundry tricks, as commonly such vain loiterers are wont to do. For he that in like vanities showeth most pastime, is of the people most beloved. As Marcus Aurelius was sage: so he set his eyes more to behold these xiiii masters, than he did stay at the lightness of the fools. And by chance he espied that five of those laughed so inordinately at the folly of these fools, that they clapped their hands, they bet their feet, & lost the gravity of sages by their inordinate laughter: the which was a very uncomely thing in such grave persons. For the honest modesty of the body, is a great witness of the wisdom and gravity of the mind. The lightness and inconstancy of the sages seen by the Emperor, and that all the grave Romans were offended with them, he took it heavily, as well to have brought them thither: as to have been deceived in electing them. How be it with his wisdom than he helped himself as much as he could, in not manifesting any grief in his heart: but he dissembled and made as though he saw them not. For sage princes must needs feal things as men, but they ought to dissemble them as discrete. The Emperor presently would not admonish them, nor before any reprove them, but he let the feast pass on, and also a few days after, the which being passed, the Emperor spoke unto them in secret, not telling them openly, wherein he showed himself a merciful prince: for open correction is unjust, where secret admonition may take place. The things which Marcus Aurelius said to those five masters, when he put them out of his house, he himself did write in the third book and the first chapter, under the title Ad stultos pedagogos. And said that he said unto them these, and such other like words.   

¶ Of the words which Marcus Aurelius spoke to five of thee▪ xiiii masters which he had chosen for the education of his son, and how he sent them from his palace for that they behaved themselves lightly at the feast of the God Genius. Chap. xxxvi.  
MY will was not, my friends, to foresee that which can not be excused, nor I will not command you that, which I ought not to command: but I desire that the gods of their grace do remain with me, and that with you the same just gods may go, and that likewise from me, and from you, the unlucky and unfortunate chances may be withdrawn. For the unlucky man were better be with the dead: then remain here with the living. Since that now I had received you, and with great diligence sought you, to that end you should be tutors to my son (the prince Comodus) I protest to the immortal gods, that I am sorry, and that of your shame I am ashamed, and that of your pain, the greatest part is mine. And it can be no otherwise, for in the world there should be no friendship so straight, that a man therefore should put his good name in danger. The sages that I have sought, were not provided only to learn the prince Comodus: but also to reform all those that lived evil in my palace. And now I see the contrary, for where I thought the fools should have been made wise, I see that those that were wise, are become fools. Know you not that the fine gold defendeth his pureness among the burning cools? and that the man endued with wisdom, showeth himself wise, yea in the midst of many fools? For truly as the gold in the fire is proved: so among the lightness of fools, is the wisdom of the wise discerned. Do not you know, that the sage is not known among the sages, nor the fool among the fools? but that among fools wise men do shine, and that among the sages fools are darkened: for there the wise showeth his wisdom, and the fool showeth his folly. Do not you know that in the sore wounds, the surgeon showeth his cunning, and that in the dangerous diseases, the physician showeth his science? And that in the doubtful battles the captain showeth his stoutness, and that in the boisterous storms, the master showeth his experience? So in like manner the sage man, in that place where there is great joy, and solace of people, aught to show his wisdom and discretion. Do not you know that of a moderate wit, there proceedeth a clear understanding, a sharp memory, a grave person, a quiet mind, a good name, and above all, a temperate tongue? For he only ought to be called wise, who is discreet in his works, and resolute in his words▪ Do not you know that it little availeth to have the tongue expert, the memory lively, the understanding clear, to have great science, to have profound eloquence, a sweet style, and ample experience, if with all these things you be as masters, and in your works as wicked men? certainly it is a great dishonour to a virtuous emperor, that he should have for masters of young princes, those which are scholars of vain jugglers. Do not you know, that if all the men of this world are bound to lead a good life, that those which presume to have science, are much more bound than others are, which by their eloquence presume to confound the world? For it is a rule certain, that always evil works take away the credit from good words. And to the end it seam not unto you that I speak of favour, I will bring here into your memory an ancient law of Rome, the which was made in the time of Cinna, which said: We ordain and command, that more grievous punishment be given unto the sage for one folly only committed by him openly: then to the simple man for a greater offence committed secretly. O just, & very just law: O just, and happy Romans, I say unto all those that togethers did find, & ordain the law. For the simple man slayeth but one man with his sword of wrath: but the sage killeth many by the evil example of his life. For (according to the saying of the divine Plato) the princes and sage sin more by the evil examples which they give: then in the fault and offence that they commit. All the ancient writers affirm, that the triumphant Rome never began to decay, until the Senate was replenished with sage serpents, and destitute of simple doves. For in the end there is nothing that sooner destroyeth princes, then thinking to have about them wise men, that should counsel them: when in deed they are malicious, that seek to deceive them. What a thing was in old time, to see the policy of Rome, before that Sylla and Marius did alter it, before that Catilina and Catullus did trouble it, before that julius Caesar and Pompeius slandered it, before that Augustus and Marcus Antonius destroyed it, before that Tiberius and Caligula did defame it, and before that Nero and Domician did corrupt it? For the most part of these, though they were valiant & wan many Realms: yet notwithstanding the vices which they brought us, were more than the Realms they wan us. And the worst of all is, that all our kingdoms are lost, and our vices abide still. If Livius and the other historiographers do not deceive us, in old time they might have seen in the sacred Senate, some Romans so ancient, with hairs so honourable, others so expert men, others aged so modest, that it was a wonder to see the majesty they did represent, and a comfort to hear that which they said. I speak not that without tears which I will say, that in stead of these ancient aged persons, there sprang up other young babblers, the which are such, and so many, that all the common wealth is altered, and Rome herself slandered.  
For that land is cursed, and with much misery compassed: where the governance of the young is so evil, that all wish for the reviving of the dead. If we credit that which the ancients wrote, we cannot denay, but that Rome was the mother of all good work, as the ancient Grece was the beginner of all sciences. So that the effect of the Greeks was to speak, & the glory of the Romans was to work. But now, through our woful● destinies, it is all contrary: for Grece hath banished from it all the speakers to Rome, and Rome hath banished from it all the sages to Grece. And if it be so (as it is in deed) I had rather be banished to Grece with the sages: then to take part with Rome among the fools. By the faith of a Christian I swear unto you (my friends) that I being young, saw an Orator in Rome which was brought up in the palace of Adrian my Lord, whose name was Aristonocus: of his body he was of mean stature, lean of face, & also he was of an unknown country, but he had such a pleasant tongue, that though he had made an oration in the senate of three hours long, there was no man but willingly was desirous to hear him. For in the old time, if he that made an Oration in the Senate were eloquent in his speech, he was heard no less, then if God Apollo had spoken himself. This philosopher Aristonocus was on the one part so gentle in his speech, and on the other part so dissolute in his life: that he never spoke word to the Senate, but it deserved eternal memory: and out of that place they never saw him do good work, but it merited grievous punishment. As I have said, though in that time I was young, yet I remember, that to see this philosopher so lost, all the people did pity, and the worst of all was, that they never hoped of his amendment, since daily more and more he lost his honour. For there is no man, that by his eloquence may have such renown: but in the end he may lose it again by his evil life. Now I ask you, my friends, sith you are in the reputation of sages, which was better, or to say better, which had been less envied: that this philosopher had been a simple man, and of good life: then to be (as he was) a man of high eloquence, and of evil condition. It was unpossible, if he had once heard of me that, which many times I have heard say of him, that he had not counseled me, yea and further to do it he had constrained me, rather to choose the grave, then to live in Rome with infamy. For he is unworthy to live amongst men, whose words of all are approved, and his works of all condemned. The first dictator in Rome was Largius, and the first lords of the knights, was Spurius. And from the time of the first dictator, until the time of Silla and julius (which were the first tyrants) were four hundred, and fifty years. In the which space, we never red that any Philosopher spoke any vain words, nor yet committed any slanderous deeds. And if Rome had done any otherwise, it had been unworthy of such praise and estimation as it had: for it is unpossible that the people be well governed, if the Sages which govern them, are in their lives dissolute. I protest to the immortal Gods, & swear by the faith of a Christian, that when I consider that which at this present with mine eyes I see: I can not but sigh for that that is past, and weep for that which is present. That is to weet, to see then how the armies fought, to see how the young men travailed to be good, to see how well princes governed, to see the obedience of the people. and above all, it was a marvelous thing to see the liberty and favour which the Sages had: and the subjection and small estimation that the simple were in. And now by our evil fortune, we see the contrary in our woeful time, so that I cannot tell, whither first I should bewail the virtues and nobleness of them that are past, or the vices & infamies of these which are present. For we never ought to cease from praising the goodness of the good: nor to cease from reproving the wickedness of the evil. O that I had been in that glorious world, to see so honourable and ancient sages, to govern in pleasure: and for the contrary what grief & pity, shame and dishonour is it, to see now so many dissolute sages, and so many young and busy heads, the which (as I have said) do destroy all Rome, and slander all Italy, and dishonour themselves. For the want of virtue which in them aboundeth, endomageth the common wealth: and the other vices wherewith they are replenished, corrupteth the people in such sort, that the weal public is more dishonoured through the dissolute life of them, than it is annoyed by the weapons of their enemies. I say again, and repeat, my friends that the prosperity of Rome endured .400. and xu years, in the which time there was a great majesty of works, and a marvelous simplicity of words, & above all, that the best that it had was, that it was rich of the good and virtuous men, and poor of evil and vicious loiterers. For in the end that city cannot be called prosperous, which hath in it many people: but that which hath in it few vices. Speaking therefore more particularly, the cause that moved me to put you from me is, because in the day of the great feast of god Genius, you showed (in the presence of the senate) your little wisdom, and great folly: for so much as all men did behold more the lightness of your parson, than they did the follies of the jugglers. If perchance you showed your folly, to th'intent men should think that you were familiar in my royal palace, I tell you that the error of your thought was no less, than the evil and example of your work: for no man ought to be so familiar with princes, but (whether it be in sport or in earnest) he ought to do him reverence. Since I give you leave to depart, I know you had rather have to help you in your journey a little money, than many councils: but I will give you both, that is to weet: money for to bring you to your journeys end, and also counsels to the end you may live. And marvel not that I give counsel to them, that have an office to council others, for it chanceth oftentimes that the physician do cure the diseases of others, and yet in deed he knoweth not his own. Let therefore the last word & counsel be when you shallbe in the services of princes and great lords, that first you labour to be counted honest, rather than wise. That they do chose you rather for quiet men: then for busy heads, and more for your few words, then for your much babbling. For in the palace of Princes, if the wise man be no more than wise, it is a great hap if he be much esteemed, but if he be an honest man, he is beloved and well taken of all.   

That Princes and other noble men ought to over see the tutors of their children, lest they conceal the secret faults of their scholars. Chap xxxvii.  
We have before rehearsed what conditions, what age, and what gravity masters ought to have, which should bring up the children of Princes. Now reason would we should declare, what the counsels should be that princes should give to the masters, and tutors of their children, before they ought to give them any charge. And after that it is meet we declare, what the counsel shallbe which the master shall give to his disciple, having the government of him.  
For it is unpossible there should happen any misfortune: where ripe counsel is ever present. It shall seam unto those that shall profoundly consider this matter, that it is a superfluous thing to treat of these things: for either princes chose that good, or else they chose the evil. If they chose not good masters, they labour in vain to give them good counsel: for the foolish maiser is less capable of counsel, than the dissolute scholar of wholesome admonition. If perchance princes do make elections of good masters, than those masters, both for themselves, and also for others ought to minister good counsels. For to give council to the wise man, it is either a superfluous deed, or else it cometh of a presumptuous man. Though it be true, that he which dare give council to the sage man is presumptuous, I say in like manner, that the dyamonde being set in gold loseth not his virtue, but rather increaseth in price & value: I mean, that the wiser a man is, so much the more he ought to desire to know the opinion of another: certainly he that doth so cannot err. For to none his own council aboundeth somuch, but that he needeth the counsel and opinion of another. Though princes and great lords do see with their eyes, that they have chosen good masters and tutors to teach their children: yet they ought not therefore to be so negligent of themselves, but that sometimes they may give the masters counsel. For it may be, that the masters be both noble, and stout, that they be ancient, sage, & moderate: but it may be also, that in teaching children they are not expert. For to masters and tutors of princes, it is not so much necessary that science doth abound, as it is shame that experience should want. When a rich man letteth out his farm or manner to a farmor he doth not only consider with himself before what rent he shall pay him. but also he covenanteth with him that he shall keep his grounds well fenced and ditched, and his houses well repaired. And not contented to receive the third part of the fruit of his vine: but also he goeth twice or thrice in a year to visit it. And in seeing it he hath reason, for in the end the one occupieth the goods as tenant: and the other doth view the ground as chief lord. Then if the father of the family with so great diligence doth recommend the trees, and the ground to the labourer: how much more ought the father to recommend his children to the masters? for the father giving council to the master is no other: but to deliver his child to the treasurer of science. Princes and great lords cannot excuse themselves of an offence, if after that they have chosen a knight, or gentleman for to be master, or else a learned & wise man to be tutor, they are so negligent as if they never had had children, or did remember that their children, aught to be their heirs: certainly this thing should not be so lightly passed over, but as a wise man, (which is careful of the honour & profit of his child) he ought to be occupied, aswell in taking heed to the master: as the master ought to be occupied, in taking heed to the child. For the good fathers ought to know, whether the master that he hath chosen can command, and whether his child will obey. One of the notablest princes among the ancients? was Sculeucus, king of the Assyrians and husband of Estrabonica (the daughter of Demetrius, king of Macedony) a lady for her beauty in all Grece the most renowned, though of her fame in deed she was not very fortunate This is an old disease, that happeneth always to beautiful women, that there be many that desire them, & more that slander them. This king Seuleucus was first married with another woman, of whom he had a son called Antigonus, the which was in love with the second wife of his father, that is to weet, with the queen Estrabonica, and was almost dead for love. The which the father understanding, married his son with her, so that she that was his stepmother, was his wife: and she that was a fair wife, was a fair daughter, & he which was his son, was made his son in law, & he which was father, was stepfather. The author hereof is Plutarch in his lives, as Sextus Cheronensis saith, in the third book of the sayings of the greeks. The king Seuleucus laboured diligently to bring up his son Antigonus well, wherefore he sought him ii notable masters, the one a greek, and the other a latin. The king Seuleucus here with not contented, provided secretly (by the mean of a servant of his, named Parthemius) that he should have no other office in the palace, but that what the masters taught or did to his son Antigonus in the day, he should secretly come and tell him in the night. But by the diligence of Parthemius, it came to the knowledge of the tutors that they had overseers: for in the end there is nothing accustomably, but at the last will be revealed. Since thee, two. philosophers knew the secret, one day they said unto the king Seuleucus these words. Mighty prince Seuleucus, since thou hast of trust committed thy son Antigonus into our hands, why dost thou appoint thy servant Parthemius as accuser of our lives? if thou countest us evil, and him good, thou shalt show us great favour if thou wilt discharge us, & commit to him the tuition of thy son. For we let the to know, that to men of honour it is an untolerable evil to shame them: and no dishonour to licence them. Thou hast appointed Parthemius to go and dog us, to see what we do, or say openly, and afterwards to make relation unto the secretly: & the worst is, that by the relation of the simple, we should be condemned being sages: for treacle is not so contrary to poison: as ignorance is to wisdom. And truly (most noble prince) it is a great matter, that daily inquisition be made of man: for there is no beard so bare shaven, but that it will grow again. I mean, that there is no man of so honest a life: but i● a man make inquisition, he may find wherewithal to detect The king Seuleucus answered them. Consider my friends, that I do know right well, that neither the authority of the parson, nor the good creadite of renown would be stained for any other friend in this world: & if the rude men do it not, much less ought the Sages to do it. For there is nothing that men travail for somuch in this life, as to leave of them good renown after their death. Since you are sages, and masters of my son, and likewise counsellors of my house, it is not meet you should with any be offended: for by good reason he alone ought to be esteemed in the palaces of princes, that will give unto the prince good council. That which I have said to Parthemius, was not for the doubt of your faith, neither to think any danger in your authority. And if the thing be well considered, it goeth well for you, and not evil for me: and the reason hereof is, that either you are good, or else you are evil. If you be good, you ought to be glad that daily your services be reported unto me. For the continual beating in the prince's ears of the good services of his servants: must needs cause at the last their services to be well rewarded. If you be evil, and in teaching my son negligent: it is but reason that I be advertised. For if the father be deceived in his opinion, the son shall receive poison in his doctrine, and also because you shall not undo my realm, nor slander me by your evil counsel. If the fatal destinies permit that my son be evil, I am he that loseth most thereby▪ for my realm shallbe destroyed, and my renown utterly abolished, & in the end my son shall not enjoy the heritage. And if all pass so, you will care little: for you will say you are not in the fault, since the child would not receive your doctrine. Wherefore me think it not evil done to over see you, as you over see him: for my duty is to see that you be good, and your duty is to travail that your disciples be not evil.  
This king Seuleucus was an honourable man, and died aged (as Plutarch saith, and Patroclus more plainly declareth, in the third book of the war of the Assyrians) and for the contrary his son Antigonus, came to be a wicked Prince in all his doings.  
And this a man may well perceive, that if he had not been of his father so much corrected, and of the masters so well instructed: without doubt he would have proved much more wicked than he was. For young men on the on part being evil inclined, and on the other part evil taught, it is unpossible but that in the end they should be vicious, and defamed. In my opininion, though children be not evil inclined, yet the fathers thereof ought not to cease to correct them: for in time to come those that writ, will commend the diligence of the fathers in correcting the vices of the children. I have declared this example, to council that the father be not so necgligent, that he should utterly forget to look unto his son, thinking that now the master hath the charge of him. And of my council, that father ought in this thing to be so advertised, that if at the first he beheld the child with two eyes: that then he should look unto him with four eyes. For oftentimes it is more requisite that the masters be punished, than the scholars. Though princes are not daily informed of the life of the masters, as king Seuleucus was: yet at the least oftentimes they ought to inquire of the state, of the life, & of the behaviour, both of the masters, and also of the children. And this thing they ought not to do only once, but also they ought to call the masters, and council them likewise that they have great respect to the doctrine of their children: thinking always to give them good counsel, to show unto their scholars afterwards. For otherwise the master immediately is discouraged, when he seeth the father to be necgligent, and nothing careful for the bringing up of his children. Princes in one thing ought to have great respect (that is to weet) lest the masters bear with the secret vices of children. And he ought not to do thus, but also to call them unto him, to advise them, to warn them, to pray them, to counsel and command them, that they have great respect to the bringing up of his children: and further, that he give them some notable council, to th'intent that the masters afterward may make relation thereof to their scholars. For there is no man so weak, nor child so tender: but the force which he hath to be vicious, is enough (if he will) to be virtuous▪ I would now demand the masters, and tutor, which do govern the children of noble and virtuous men, what more strength is required to be a glutton, then to be a sober man? to be a babbler, or to be silent? to be diligent, or to be necgligent? to be honest, then to be dissolute? and as of those few I speak, so I could recite many others. In this case I will not speak as a man of science, but as one of experience: and that is, that by the faith of a christian I swear, that with less travail of the master, and more profit of the scholar, he may be sooner virtuous than vicious. For there is more courage required, in one to be evil: then strength in another, for to be good. Also the masters commonly have another evil property, worse than this which is, they bear with their scholars in some secret vices when they are young: from the which they cannot be withdrawn afterward when they are old. For it chanceth oftentimes, that the good inclination is overcome, by the evil custom: and certainly the masters which in such a case should be apprehended, aught to be punished as traitors pariured. For to the master it is greater treason, to leave his disciple amongst vices: then to deliver a fort into the hands of the enemies. And let no man marvel, if I call such a master a treator, for the one yieldeth the fort which is but of stones builded: but the other adventureth his son, who is of his proper body begotten. The cause of all this evil is, that as the children of Princes ought to inherit realms, and the children of great lords hope to inherit the great estates: so the masters are more covetous than virtuous. For they suffer their puples to run at their own wills when they be young, to th'end to win their hearts when they shallbe old: so that the extreme covetousness of the masters now a days is such, that it causeth goodman's sons commonly to be evil and vicious. O tutors of princes, and masters of great lords, I do admonish you, and besides that I counsel you that your covetousness deceive you not, thinking that you shallbe better esteemed for being clokers of vices: then lovers of virtues.  
For there is none (old nor young) so wicked, but knoweth that good is better than evil. And further I say to you in this case, that oftentimes God permitteth (when those that were children become old) their eyes to be opened, whereby they know the harm that you have done them, in suffering them to be vicious in their youth: at what time your duty had been to have corrected their vices. You thought by your goods to be honoured for your flattery: but you find the contrary, that you are despised worthily. For it is the just judgement of god, that he that committeth evil, shall not escape without punishment: and he that consealeth the evil committed, shall not live undefamed. Diadumeus the Historiographer, in the life of Severus the xxi Emperor) declareth, that Apuleius Rufynus, who had been consul twice, and at that time was also tribune of the people (a man who was very aged and likewise of great authority thorough out Rome) came one day to the Emperor Severus, and said unto him in this sort. Most invict Prince, always Augustus, know that I had ii children the which I committed to a master to bring up, and by chance the eldest increasing in years, and diminishing in virtues, fell in love with a Roman lady, the which love came to late to my knowledge: for to such unfortunate men as I am, the disease is always past remedy, before the danger thereof cometh to our knowledge.  
The greatest grief that herein I feel, is, that his master knew and consealed the evil, and was not only not a means to remedy it: but also was the chief worker of the adultery between them to be committed. And my son made him an oblygation, wherein he bound himself if he would bring him that roman lady, he would give him after my death, the house and heritages which I have in the gate Salaria: and yet herwith not contented, but he and my son together rob me of much money. For love is costly to him that maintaineth it, and always the loves of the children, are chargeful to the fathers. judge you now therefore noble Prince, this so heinous and slanderous cause, for it is to much presumption of the subject to revenge any injury, knowing that the lord himself will revenge all wrongs. When the Emperor Severus had understood this so heinous a case, as one that was both in name and deed severe, commanded good inquisition of the matter to be had, and that before his presence the should cause to appear, the father, the son, and the master, to the end each one should allege for his own right: for in Rome none could be condemned for any offence, unless the plaintiff had first declared the fault before his presence, and that the accused should have no time to make his excuse. The truth then known and the offenders confessing the offences, the Emperor Severus gave judgement thus. I command that this master be cast alive among the beasts of the park Palatine.  
For it is but meet that beasts devour him: which teacheth others to live like beasts. Also I do command that the son be utterly dysinheryted of all the goods of his father, and banished into the Isles Balleares, and Maiorques.  
For the child which from his youth is vicious, ought justly to be banished the country, and dysherited of his father's goods.  
This therefore (of the master and of the son) was done by the complaint of Apuleius. Rufinus.  
O how unconstant fortune is, and how oft (not thinking of it) the thread of life doth break. I say it, because if this master had not been covetous, the father had not been deprived of his son, the child had not been banished, the mother had not been defamed, the common weal had not been slandered, the master, of wild beasts had not been devoured, neither the Emperor had been so cruel against them, nor yet their names in Histories (to their infamies) had always continued.  
I do not speak this without a cause, to declare by writing that which the evil do in the world: For wise men ought more to fear the infamy of the little pen, than the slander of the babbling tongue. For in the end, the wicked tongue can not defame but the living: but the little pen doth defame them that are, that were, and the shallbe. To conclude this, my mind is, that the master should endeavour himself that his scooller should be virtuous, and that he do not despair, though immediately for his pains he be not rewarded. For though he be not of the creature, let him be assured that he shallbe of the creator. For God is so merciful, that he oft times taking pity of the sweat of those that be good, chasteneth the unthankful, and taketh upon him to require their services.   

Of the determination of the Emperor when he committed his child to the tutors, which he had provided for his education. Chapter. xxxviii.  
CInna the Hystorien in the first book of the times of Comodus declareth that Marcus Aurelius the Emperor chose xiiii masters learned, and wise men, to teach his son Comodus, of the which he refused five, not for that they were not wise, but for that they were not honest. And so he kept these nine only, which were both learned in the sciences, and also expert in bringing up the children of the Senators, though in deed they were very unlucky in the bringing up of the Prince Comodus. For this cursed prince had nine masters which instructed him, but he had above nine thousand vices which undid him. The emperor Marcus Aurelius made five books of declamations, and in the third book the sixth Chapter, under the title ad Sapientes pedagogos, he brought in these nine masters, and persuaded them greatly that they should be diligent and attentive to teach his son Comodus. And in this matter, he spoke unto them many and grave sentences, the words whereof do follow.  
The matter is manifest in Rome, and no less published through out all Italy, what pains I took to search out to many Sages to instruct my son Comodus: the which all being examined, I kept only the wisest, and the best, and though in very deed I have done much, yet I have not done so much as I am bound.  
For Princes in doubtful matters, ought not only to demand council, of all the good that be alive: but also to take pain to talk with those which are dead. That is, to read the deeds of the good in their writings. You were fourteen masters chosen, whereof I have put out five: so that presently you are but nine, and if in deed you be wise men, you shall not be offended with that I have done. For the grief of evil things proceedeth of wisdom, but the admiration of good things cometh of small experience, I do not denay, but that wise men do feel in them passions as men: but in the end, there is no art nor science that doth excuse us from the miseries of men. But that where at I marvel is, how it is possible that a wise man should marvel at any thing in this world: For if the wise man should be astonished at every thing of the world, it appeareth that there is little constancy or virtue in him at all. Returning therefore to our particular talk, I have taken you to be masters of my son, and you see, of many I chose a few, to the end that with few my son should be taught. For as it is the father's duty to search out good masters, so it is the master's duty to be diligent about his scholar. The nurse of my son Comodus gave him suck two years with her teats, at the gate of Hostia. And his mother Faustine other two years brought him up wanton in Capua. How be it this was a sufficient excuse. I would as a pitiefull father (if I could) give him correction at the least this twenty years. For I swear by the immortal Gods, that to a Prince that shallbe an inheritor, one years punishment is more worth: then twenty years of pleasure. Since the nurses which giveth the children suck knoweth little, and since the mothers which bore them do love them much: and since the child peradventure (as yet) is but of a weak under standing, they are occupied about the things that are present, considering that chastysement in much more betters for him, than pleasure.  
But the wise man which hath understanding, ought to think of that that is past, and by much wisdom to provide for that that is to come: For he can not be counted wise, that only in one thing is careful. My son Comodus was borne the last day of August, in a city by Danubio. I shall not forget the day that the gods gave him unto me: nor yet this day in the which I commit him unto you. Of greater reason I should remember that day wherein I put him to be taught: then the day which I saw him to be borne. For the gods gave him me, as I gave him to you mortal, since he is a man, but you shall restore him again unto me, and I likewise him to the Gods as immortal, if he be wise. What will you I say more unto you, but if you regard that any thing at all which I say, you will regard much more this which I will say. When the Gods determined that I should have a child of my wife, and that my woeful destinies deserved, that I should have such a child: truly the Gods made me a man in the spirit, and I begot him a beast amongst the beasts in the flesh. But if you will, you may make him a god amongst the gods by science. For princes win infamy, for being fierce and self-willed: but they get good renown, for being wise and patient. I would you should apply this business well, and therefore it is necessary that you examine him oft. For it is a general rule, that the precious jewel is little regarded, when he which hath it knoweth not the value thereof. I require that you answer me in this one thing. What did I give unto my son Comodus, when the gods gave him me, but frail and mortal flesh? by the corruption whereof his life shall end: but you shall give him high doctrine, whereby he shall always deserve perpetual memore. For the good renown is not gotten, by that the weak flesh doth: but by that which the high understanding immagyneth, and by that the curious heart executeth. O if his tender age knew what I gave to his weak flesh, and if his dull understanding could come to the wisdom which you may give him: he would call you his right fathers, & me but his stepfather. For he is the true father that giveth us doctrine to live: and he is but an unjust stepfather, that giveth us flesh to die.  
Certainly the natural Fathers of children, are but their open enemies, and cruel stepfathers: since we give them such dull understanding, so weak a memory, a will so froward, life so short, flesh so frail, honour so costly, health so uncertain, riches so troublesome, prosperity so scarce, and death so fearful. Finally we give them a nature subject, to infinite alterations, and great misfortunes. Reason would not you should little regard that which I commit unto your judgement, that is to weet, that you have the charge of Comodus my son: For the thing that Princes chiefly aught to foresee, is to whom they ought to recommend the government of their children. To be a master and Tutor of a Prince in the earth, is to have an office of the Gods which are in heaven: because he governeth him that ought to govern us, he teacheth him that ought to teach us, he chasteneth him that ought to chasten us. Finally he commandeth one, that ought to command all. What will you that I say more unto you. Truly he that hath the charge to teach the children of Princes, and great Lords, is as the governor of the ship, a standard of a battle, a defence of the people, a guide of the ways, a father of the Orphans, the hope of pupylles, and a treasurer of all: For there is no other true treasore in the common wealth but the prince which doth maintain and keep it in good peace, and just justice. I will tell you furthermore, to the end you shall esteem it more, that when I do give you my son to teach, I give you more than if I gave you all the riches of the Realm. For in him that hath the reformation of the child's life, dependeth the fame of the Father after he is dead.  
So that the Father hath no greater renown: then to see his child lead an honest life. I pray the Gods that they may be so merciful, and the fatal destinies so fortunate, that if till this time you have watched to teach the children of others, that from hence forward you watch to teach this my son Comodus, which I trust shallbe to the comfort of all.  
For the thing that is universally good to all, ought to be preferred before that which tendeth but to the commodity of some. You see my friends, that there is a great difference to teach the children of Princes, and to teach the children of the people: & the cause hereof is, that the greatest part of those come to the schools and universities to learn to speak, but I do not give you my son Comodus, to the end you should teach him to speak many words, but that you should learn him to do good works.  
For all the glory of the princes is, that in the works which he doth he be upright, and in the words that he speaketh he be very discrete.  
After that the children have spent many years in schools, after their Fathers have spent much money upon them, if perchance the child can dispute in Greek or Latin any thing at all: though he be light and vicious, the Father thinketh his goods well employed: For in Rome, now a days, they esteem an Orator more, which can do nought but babble: then a philosopher which is virtuous. O woeful men, that now live in Rome, and much more woeful shall those be which hereafter shall succeed: For Rome is no more that Rome which it was wont to be, that is to weet, that the fathers in old time sent their children to schools and studies to learn them to be silent: and now they send them to learn to speak to much. They learned them then to be sage and temperate: and now they learn them to be dissolute. And the worst of all is, that the schools where the sage and patient were wont to be, and from whence issued the good and virtuous works: are now full of babbling Orators, and none issue out from thence at this present, but the evil and vicious. So that if the sacred Roman laws are exalted once in a week with their tongues: they are broken ten times in the day in their works.  
What will you I say more, since I can not tell you any thing (without hurting my mother Rome) but that at this present all the pleasures of vain men, is to see their children overcome others by disputing: but I let you understand that all my glory shallbe, when my son shall surmount others, not in words, but in silence, not to be troublesome, but to be patient: not in speaking subtle words, but in doing virtuous works. For the glory of good men is in working much, and speaking little. Consider my friends, and do not forget get it, that this day I commit my honour unto you, I put into your hands the estate of Comodus my son, the glory of Rome, the rest of the people which are my subjects, the government of italy which is your country, and above all I refer unto your discretions, the peace and tranquillity of the hole common wealth. Therefore he that hath such a charge, by reason ought not to sleep. For as the wise men say, to great trust, is required much diligence. I will say no more, but that I would my son Comodus should be so well taught, that he should have the fear of god, and the science of philosophers, the virtues of the ancient Romans, the approved council of the aged, the courage of the Roman youth, and the constancy of you which are his masters. Finally, I would that of all the good he should take the good, as of me he ought to take the heritage, and succession of the Empire. For he is the true prince, and worthy of the empire, that with his eyes doth behold the great signories he ought to inherit, and doth employ his heart how to govern it, whereby he shall live to the great profit of the common wealth. And I protest to the immortal gods, with whom I hope to go, and to the goodness of my predecessors, whose faith I am bound to keep. I protest to the Roman laws, the which I did swear to observe in the conquest of Asia, wherein I bond myself to continue, and to the friendship of the Rhodiens, the which I have offered myself to keep, to the ennemitye of the Africans, the which not for me, but for the oath of my predecessors I have bound myself to maintain. And I protest unto the vessel of the high Capital, where my bones ought to be burnt, that Rome do not complain of me being alive, nor that in the world to come she curse me after my death: If perchance the prince Comodus my son (by his wicked life) should be occasion of the loss of hindrance to the common wealth. And though you which are his masters undo it, for not giving him due punishment, and he thorough his wicked government destroy it, yet I discharge myself by all these protestations that I have made, which shallbe witness of my will. For the father is bound no more towards his child, but to banish him from his pleasures, and to give him virtuous masters. And if he be good, he shallbe be the glory of the father, the honour of himself, the wealth of you, and the profit and commodity of the hole common wealth.   

That tutors of Princes and noble men's children ought to be very circumspect, that their scholars do not accustom themselves in vices whiles they are young, and specially they must keep them from four vices. Chap. xxxix.  
THe good and expert Surgeons, unto great and dangerous wounds, do not only apply medicines and ointments which do resolve & stop: but also do minister other good plasters, for to restrain and heal them. And verily they show themselves in the one no less sage, then in the other expert: for as great diligence ought to be had to preserve the weak fliesh, and to purge the rotten wound, to the end it may be healed: so likewise the wise travailers learn diligently the way, before they take upon them any journey, that is to weet, if there be any dangers in the way, either of robbing or sleyinge, wherein there is any by path that goeth out of the high way.  
Truly he that in this point is circumspect, is worthy to be counted a sage man: For according to the multitude of the perils of the world, none can be assured, unless he know first where the danger is, wherein he may fall. To show therefore that which by these parables I mean, I say, that the tutors and masters of princes, and great Lords, ought not to be contented only to know what science, what doctrine, and what virtue they ought to show and teach their scholars: but also with greater care and diligence the youth to know from what evils or wicked customs they ought to withdraw them. For when the trees are tender and young, it is more necessary to bow them, and cut of the superfluous branches with knives: then to gather their furtes with baskets.  
Those which take upon them to govern Moils, of great prise & value, and those that tame and break horses of a good race, take great pains that such beasts be light, that they leap well, and be well made to the sporre, and bridle: but they take much more pains that they be gentle, familiar, & faithful, and above all, that they have no evil qualities. Then sith it is so, masters ought diligently to watch (if they be good) that in young Princes there be no appearance of any notable vices. For all the virtues which the young do learn, doth not them so much profit: as one only vice doth them hurt, if they do thereunto consent, knowing that thereby they may be hereafter blamed or despised. For if any man knew a beast, that is wild and stubborn, and not gentle, and will buy him at great price: such a one hath his head more full of follies then of wisdom.  
Albeit that masters ought to withdraw their scholars from many evil customs, amongst all there are four principal, in any of the which if the prince be defamed, the master which hath taught him should deserve great punishment. For according to the humane laws, and customs, all the damage and harm that the beasts do the vinyeard, the keeper that hath charge thereof, shall (as he is bound) recompense.  
First the masters ought to refrain in such sort the tongues of their scholars, that neither in sport nor in earnest, they permit them to tell lies. For the greatest fault that is in a good and virtuous man, is to be brief in the truth: and the greatest villainy that is in a vicious man, is to be long in lies, Merula in that .v. book of Caesar's saith, that the first war that Vlpius Traianus made, was against Cebalus king of Daces, who rebelled against the Romans, and with no small victory overcame the Emperor Domitian, in a battle which they fought togethers. For as Nasica said, the pleasures that Rome had to see many victories were not so great: as the displeasure was which she took, to see herself once overcome. The good Vlpius Traianus gave battle to king Cebalus, wherein Cebalus was not only overcome, but also taken, and afterwards brought before the emperor Traianus, which said unto him these words. Speak Cebalus, why diddest thou rebel against the Romans, since thou knowest that the Romans are unvincible. The king Cebalus answered him. If the Romans could not be overcome, how did I then overcome the Emperor Domitian.  
trajan the Emperor said unto him again: Thou art greatly deceived (king Cebalus) to think that when thou overcamest the Emperor, thou hadst overcome: the Romans. For when that Romulus founded Rome the Gods ordained, that though their emperor died in any battle, yet not withstanding it is not to be thought that the empire is overcome. The Historiographers made a great matter of the words that this Vlpius Traianus spoke. For therein he showed, that the Roman empire was unvincible.  
After that this king Cebalus was dead, and that (for his deserts) he was deprived: as the Emperor trajan was a merciful prince, so he provided that a little child that Cebalus had, should be brought up in his palace, with intention that if the child became good, they would give him the Realm which his father (through Treason) had lost.  
For in Rome there was an ancient law, that all that which the father lost by treason, the son should recover by his faithful acts. It chanced, that the good trajan taking his pleasure in the gardens of Vulcan, saw the son of king Cebalus, and many other young children of Rome, stealing fruit forth of an orchard, and it is no wonder, for the Locusts did not so much harm to the Corn, as the children do to the fruits, when they enter into the orchards. When the emperor afterwards demanded him from whence he came, he answered: from his study hearing Rhetoric: but in deed he came from stealing of fruit. The emperor trajan was so angry & displeased that the child was a liar, that he commanded he should utterly be deprived and made void of all hope: to recover the realm of his father. The Emperor trajan was greatly importuned, as well of strange Imbassatours, as of his own Country men, that he would change that cruel sentence: For princes in a fury do command that, which when they are patient they do undo. The emperor trajan answered them, if the father of this child which was king Cebalus had been a true prince, he had not lost his life, neither his Realm, nor had not put me & th'empire so many times in danger: but since the father was a liar, and the son is not true, it were to unjust a thing to render him the Realm, For to me it should be great reproach, and to our mother Rome as much dishonour, that she being the mother of truth, should give realms to children being liars. This was it that Vlpius trajan spoke unto the son of king Cebalus. Marcus Aurelius the xvii Emperor of Rome had ii sons, as before we have rehearsed, the eldest of the which was called Comodus: and his father procured greatly to disinherit him of the empire: For he would that the second son named Verissimus should have inherited it: and he did not only determine it, but also spoke it oft times openly. For that thing is with great difficulty dissembled, that excessively is beloved By chance an old Senator, and friend of Marcus the emperor, one day, both going out of the Senate house, said unto him: I marvel at the much, most excellent prince, why thou dost disherit thy son which is eldest, to make thine heir the youngest, knowing that they are both thy sons, and that the gods have given the no others but them. For the good fathers are bound to chasten their children, but they have not licence to disherit them. The emperor Marcus Aurelius answered him. If thou were a greek philosopher, as thou art a Roman citizen, and if thou knewest the father's love towards his child, thou wouldst not take pity one my son which undoth the Empire: but thou shouldest have compassion on me his father, which doth disherit him. For the child scarcely knoweth what he loseth, but I that am his father do bewail the damage which I do unto him. For in the end, there is not in the world so cruel a father: but if his son should be hurt with the pommel of the sword in the hand, the father would feel (incontinently) the dent of his blade at his heart. In this case, I swear unto the by the immortal gods, that I do that which I would not do: and I take that from him which I would not take. For Antonius' my lord and father in law, gave me the empire, for no other cause, but because he never found in me any lie: and for this occasion I do deprive my son from it, for that I never found in him any truth. For it is not meet that the Empire being given unto me for that I was true: should be left inheritage to him that is a liar. For in the end it is better that the son do lose the heritage, than the father should lose his renown. By these two examples, those which are the tutors and masters of princes and great lords may see, how to be diligent to keep them from lies, whilst they are young: and it ought to be in such sort, that neither in pastime, neither in earnest answering they should be suffered once to tell a lie. For those that for their pleasure were accustomed to lie in their youth: will not fail for their profit to lie in their age.  
secondarily, the tutors and masters ought to keep their disciples, that they be no gamesters, and that they do not accustom themselves in their youth to be unthrifts: for it is a great token of the decay of the Empire, when the Prince in his youth is affectionated to play. Experience showeth us, that play is a vice, as Seneca sayeth, which hath the property of a raging dog: with whom if a man be once bitten (unless he hath present remedy) forth with he runneth mad, and the disease also continueth with him uncurable until the hour of his death. Players not without a cause are compared to mad dogs: for all those that use it, hurt their conscience, lose their honour, and consume their substance. It chanceth oft that in that wherein masters should be most circonspecte, they (for the most part) are most negligent: that is to weet, that under the coullet of some honest recreation, they agree to their scholars to use some pastime, which if therein be contained no commendable exercise, the children ought not to use it, nor yet the tutors to suffer it. For vice is of such a property, that if a child in his youth dare play appoint: it is to be feared when he cometh to years, he will play his cote. weighing the matter more deeply, and aggravating this vice, I say further, and affirm: that when the children of Princes and great Lords play, a man ought not to make account of that which they may win or lose: for that of all miseries were most misery, if therefore my pen should forbid them play. For play ought not to be forbidden to young children, for the money that they lose: but for the vices which they win thereby, and for the corrupt manners, which therein they learn. Octavian, who was the second Emperor of Rome, and one of the fortunatest Emperors that ever was, among all his virtues was noted of one thing only, which is: that from his youth he was to much given to play at tennis. Of the which vice he was not only admonished secretly: but also was forbidden it openly. For (as Cicero saith in his book of laws) when the Emperor was noted of any open vice, they might boldly reprove him in the open Senate. When Octavian was for this vice reproved by the Senate, they said he spoke these words. You have reason (O fathers conscript) in taking from me my pastime: for it is necessary that the virtues of princes should be so many, that all men might praise them: and their vices so few, that no man might reprove them.  
These words were notable, and worthy of such an excellent prince. For in the end, considering their delicate and wanton bringing up, together with the liberty that they have: we ought to thank and commend them for the good works which they do, and most of all to rejoice for the vices which they want. To our matter therefore, amongst the other wicked vices that children get in their youth, when they are players, this is one that they learn to be thieves, and liars. For the money that they playe-to demand it their fathers they are afraid, and ashamed: and of their own proper goods, as yet they have none in their hands. Wherefore a man may easily conclude, that if children play, of necessity they must steal. The six and thirty Emperor of Rome was Claudius Luganus, a man very temperate in eating, moderate in apparel, upright in justice, and very fortunate in chivalry: for he did not only repulse the Goths from Illiria, but also vanquished in a battle the Germans, wherein were slain above a hundred thousand. This battle was near unto the lake Veracus, in a place called Luganus, and for a memory of that great battle and victory they called him Claudius Luganus. For it was a custom among the Romans, that according to the good or evil works that princes did: so they were judged, and known by such surnames, whether it were good or evil. This Emperor had but one only son, the which was a prince comely of parsonage, and lively of understanding: but above all things given to play, so that these good gifts which nature gave him to work in virtue, he misused always in play. And amongst young men he desireth rather to haunt vice: then among the philosophers to learn virtue. And hereat a man ought not to marvel, for all men of great courage (unless they be compelled to do virtuous acts) do exercise of themselves many detestable vices. It chanced when this young prince had no more to play nor gage, he rob out of his father's chamber a rich jewel of gold, whereof also his master was privy. And when the knowledge thereof came to the prince's ears, he immediately disherited his son of the Empire, and caused the head of the master to be cut of his body, & all those likewise that played with him, to be banished the country. This act made every man afraid for correction executed after a good sort hath this property: that it encourageth the good to be good, and feareth the wicked from their wickedness.  
Merula in the tenth book of Caesar's (where as at large he mentioneth this matter) saith, that the Romans esteemed more the banishment of those players from Rome: then to have droven out the Goths from Illiria, and to say the truth they had reason. For a prince deserveth a greater crown of glory, to banish the vicious from his palace: then he doth for chase the enemies out of his dominion.   

¶ Of two other vices perilous in youth, which the masters ought to keep them from: and that is to be shameless in countenance, and addicted to the lust of the flesh. Cap. xl.  
THirdly tutors ought to travail, that the children which they have in charge, be not light and worldly, nor that they do consent that they be to bold or shameless. And I say, that they do not suffer them to be to light or unconstant: for of young men, inconstant and light, cometh oftentimes an old man, fond, and unthrifty. I say that they do not suffer them to be to rash: for of to hardy young men, cometh rebellious and seditious persons. I say that they do not consent they be shameless: for of the unshamefastness, cometh slanderous persons.  
Princes and great lords ought to have much circumspection, that their children be brought up in shamefastness, with honesty. For the crown doth not give so much glory to a king, nor the head doth more set forth the man, nor the jewel more adorn the breast, nor yet the sceptre more become the hand: then shamefastness, with honesty, beutifieth a young man. For a man of what estate so ever he be, the honesty which he showeth outwardly, doth hide many secret vices, wherewith he is endued inwardly. In the time of the reign of the emperor Helius Pertinax (the nyntenthe Emperor of Rome) two consuls governed the common wealth, the one named Verus, and the other Mamillus, one day they came to the Emperor and were humble suitors to his highness, beseeching him, that it would please him to receive their two children into his service, the eldest of the which passed not as yet twelve years of age: the which request, after the Emperor had granted, the fathers were not negligent to bring them unto him, and being come before his presence, each of them made an oration, the one in Latin and the other in Greek. Wherewith the Emperor was greatly pleased, and all the residue amazed: for at that time none served the Roman princes, but that he were either very apt to chivalry, or else toward in sciences. As these two children in the presence of the Emperor made their orations, the one of them beheld the Emperor in such sort, that his eyes never went of him, neither once moved his head to look down to the earth: and the other contrary beheld the earth always, & never lift up his head during his oration. Wherewith the Emperor (being a grave man) was so highly pleased with the demeanours of this child, that he did not only admit him to serve him at his table: but also he suffered him to enter into his chamber, and this was a preferment of great estimation. For princes did not use to be served at their tables, nor in their chambers with any, unless they were of his own kindred, or ancient servants. And concerning the other child, which was his companion, the Emperor returned again to his father saying, that when hereafter he should be more shamefast, he would receive him into his service. And certainly the Emperor had reason: for good and grave princes, ought not to be served with light and shameless children. I would now demand fathers which love their children very well, and would they should be worthy, what it availeth their children to be fair of countenance, well disposed of body, lively of spright, white of skin, to have yellow hairs, to be eloquent in speech, profound in science, if with all these graces that nature giveth them, they be to bold in that they do, and shameless in that they say? the author hereof is Patritius Senesis, in the first book De rege & regno.  
One of the most fortunate princes was the great Theodosius, the which amongst all other virtues, had one most singular, which was: that he was never served in his palace with any young man that was unshamefast, or seditious, nor with an old man which was dishonest. For he said oftentimes that princes shall never be well beloved: if they have about them liars, or slanderers. This good emperor spoke as a man of experience, and very sage: for if the counsellors and familiars of princes be evil taught and unpatient, they offend many: and if they be liars, they deceive all: and if they be dishonest, they slander the people. And these offences be not so great unto them that commit them, as they be unto the prince which suffereth them. The emperor Theodose had in his palace two knights, the one called Ruffinus, and the other Stelliconus, by whose prudence and wisdom the common wealth was ruled and governed. And as Ignacius Baptista saith, they two were the tutors & governors of the children of Theodose, whose names were Archadius, and Honorius: For as Seneca saith, when good princes do die, they ought to be more careful to procure masters and tutors which shall teach their children, then to procure realms or kingdoms for to enrich them. These two masters, Stelliconus and Ruffinus had in the palace of Theodose each of them a son, the which were marvelous well taught, and very shamefast: and for the contrary, the two princes Honorius, and Archadius, were evil mannered and not very honest. And therefore the good emperor Theodose took these children oftentimes, and set them at his table: and contrary he would not once behold his own. Let no man marvel though a prince of such a gravity, did a thing of so small importance: for to say the truth, the shamefast children, and well taught, are but robbers of the hearts of other men.  
Fourthly, the tutors and masters of princes ought to take good head that when the young princes their scholars wax great, that they give not themselves over to the wicked vice of the flesh, so that the sensuality and evil inclination of the wanton child, aught to be remedied by the wisdom of the chaste master. For this cursed flesh is of such condition, that if once by wantonness the wicket be opened, death shall sooner approach: then the gate shallbe shut again.  
The trees which bud and cast leaves before the time, our hope is never to eat of their fruit in season. I mean, that when children haunt the vice of the flesh, whiles they be young: there is small hope of goodness to be looked in them when they be old. And the elder we see them wax, the more we may be assured of their vices. And where we see that vice increaseth: there we may affirm that virtue diminisheth. Plato in his second book of laws ordaineth, and commandeth, that young men should not mary before they were xxv years of age: and the young maidens at twenty because at that age their fathers abide less dangers in begetting them, and giving of them life, and the children also which are borne, have more strength against the assaults of death. Therefore if it be true (as it is true in deed) I ask now, if to be married and get children (which is the end of marriage) the Philosophers do not suffer, until such time as they be men: then I say that masters ought not to suffer their scholars to haunt the vices of the flesh when they be children. In this case, the good fathers ought not alone to commit this matter to their tutors: but also thereunto to have an eye themselves. For oftentimes they will say they have been at their devotions in the temples when in deed they have offered venerial sacrifice to the Courtesan. The vice of the flesh is of such condition, that a man can not give himself to it, without grudge of conscience, without hurt of his renown, without loss of his goods, without shortening of his life, and also without offence to the common wealth: for oftentimes, men inclined to such vice, do rebel, trouble, and slander the people. Seneca satisfied me greatly, in that which he writeth in the second book De Clementia to Nero, where he sayeth these words.  
If I knew the Gods would pardon me, and also that men would not hate me: yet I ensure thee for the vileness thereof, I would not sin in the flesh. And truly Seneca had reason, for Aristotle sayeth that all beasts after the act of venery are sorry, but the Cock alone. O governors and masters of great princes, and lords, by that immortal God which created us I conjure you, and for that you own to the nobility I desire you, that you will bridle with a sharp snaffle your charge, and give them not the rain to follow vices: for if these young children live, they will have time enough to search, to follow, to attain, and also to cast of those yokes. For through our frailty, this wicked vice of the flesh, in every place, in all ages, in every estate, and at all times (be it by reason, or not) is never out of season What shall I say to you in this case? if the children pass the furiousness of their youth without the bridle: then they be void of the love of God, they follow the trumpet of sensuality, after the sound whereof they run headlong into the yoke, and lose that which profiteth, to win that which hurteth? For in the carnal vices, he that hath the least of that that sensuality desireth, hath much more thereof then reason willeth. Considering that the masters are negligent, the children bold, their understandings blinded, and seeing that their appetites do accomplish beastly motions: I ask now, what remaineth to the child, and what contentation hath he of such filth and naughtiness? Truly since the fleshly and vicious man is overcome with his appetite, of those that escape best I see none other fruit, but that their bodies remain diseased, and their understanding blinded, their memory dulled, their sense corrupted, their will hurted, their reason subverted, and their good fame lost, and worst of all, the flesh remaineth always flesh. O how many young men are deceived, thinking that for to satisfy & by once engaging themselves to vices, that from that time forward they shall cease to be vicious: the which thing not only doth not profit them, but also is very hurtful unto them. For fire is not quenched with dry wood, but with cold water. But O god what shall we do, since that now a days the fathers do as much esteem their children for being fine, & bold minions among women, as if they were very profond in science, or hardy in feats of arms? & that which is worst, they ofttimes make more of their bastards gotten in adultery, them of their legitimate child conceived in matrimony. what shall we say then of mothers? truly I am ashamed to speak it, but they should be more ashamed to do it, which is, because they would not displease their husbands, they hide the wickedness of their children, they put the children of their harlots to the norse, they redeem their gauges, they give them money to play at dice, they reconcile them to their fathers when they have offended, they borrow them money to redeem them when they are indebted: finally they are makers of their bodies, and undoers of their souls. I speak this incidently, for that the masters would correct the children, but the fathers and mothers forbid them. For it little availeth for one to prick the horse with the spur, when he that sitteth upon him holdeth him back with the bridle. Therefore to our matter, what shall we do to remedy this ill in the young man, which in his flesh is vicious? Truly I see no other remedy, but with moist earth to quench the flaming fire, and to keep him from the occasions of vice. For in the war, honour by tarrying is obtained: but in the vice of the flesh, the victory by flying is won.   
The end of the second book.   

The third book of the Dial of princes, with the famous Book of Marcus Aurelius, wherein he entreateth of the virtues which Princes ought to have, as justice, peace, and magnificence.  

¶ How Princes and great Lords ought to travail to administer to all equal justice Cap. i.  
EGidius Figulus, one of the most famous & renowned Philosophers of Rome, said that between .2. of the zodaical signs (Leo & Libra) is a virgin named justice: the which in times pass dwelled among men in earth, and after she was of them neglected, she ascended up to heaven.  
This Philosopher would set us understand that justice is so excellent a virtue, that she passeth all men's capacity: since she made heaven her mansion place, & could find no man in the whole earth that would entertain her in his house. During the time that men were chaste, gentle, pitiefull, patient, embracers of virtue, honest, and true, justice remained in the earth with them: but since they are converted unto adulterers, tyrants, given to be proud, unpatient, liars, and blasphemers, she determined to forsake them and to ascend up into heaven. So that this Philosopher concluded, that for the wickedness that men commit on earth, justice hath leapt from them into heaven. Though this seem to be a poetical fiction, yet it comprehendeth in it high and profound doctrine: the which seemeth to be very clear, for where we see justice, there are few thieves, few murderers, few tyrants, & few blasphemers. Finally I say, that in that house or common wealth where justice remaineth, a man cannot commit vice, & much less dissemble with the vicious. Homer desirous to exalt justice, could not tell what to say more, but to call kings, the children of the great god jupiter: and that not for the naturality they have, but for the office of justice which they minister. So that Homer concludeth, that a man ought not to call just princes other, but the children of god. The divine Plato in the fourth book of his common wealth saith, that the chiefest gift god gave to men is: that they being (as they be) of such vile clay, should be governed by justice. I would to God all those which read this writing, understood right well that which Plato said: For if men were not endued with reason, and governed by justice, amongst all beasts none were so unprofitable. Let reason be taken from man wherewith he is endued, and justice whereby he is governed: then shall men easily perceive in what sort he will lead his life. He cannot fight as the Elephant, nor defend himself as the Tiger, nor he can hunt as the Lion neither labour as the Ox: and that whereby he should profit (as I think) is, that he should eat Bears & Lions in his life, as now he shallbe eaten of worms after his death. All the Poets that invented fictions, all the Orators which made Orations, all the Philosophers which wrote books, all the sages which left us their doctrines, and all the Princes which instituted laws meant nothing else, but to persuade us to think how brief & unprofitable this life is, & how necessary a thing justice is therein. For the filth & corruption which the body hath without the soul: the self same hath the common wealth without justice. We cannot deny but that the Romans have been proud, envious, adulterers, shameless, & ambitious: but yet with all these faults they have been great observers of justice. So that if god gave the so many triumphs being laden and environed with so many vices: it was not for the virtues they had, but for the great justice which they did administer. Pliny in his second book saith, that Democritus affirmed there were two gods which governed the universal world: that is to weet, Reward and Punishment. Whereby we may gather, that nothing is more necessary than true and right justice. For the one rewardeth the good, & the other leaveth not unpunished the evil. Saint Austyne in the first book De civitare dei sayeth these words. justice taken away, what are realms but dens of thieves? truly he had great reason. For if there were no whips for vagabonds, gags for blasphemers, fines for perjury, fire for heretics, sword for murderers, galouse for thieves, nor prison for rebels: we may boldly affirm that there would not be so many beasts on the mountains, as there would be thieves in the common wealth. In many things or in the greatest part of the common wealth, we see that bread, wine, corn, fish, will, and other things necessary for the life of the people wanteth: but we never saw but malicious men in every place did abound. Therefore I swear unto you, that it were a good bargain to change all the wicked men in the common wealth, for one only poor sheep in the sylde. In the common wealth we see nought else but whipping daily, behedding, slaying, drowning, and hanging: but notwithstanding this, the wicked which remain still are so many in number, that if all those should be hanged that deserve it by justice, a man could not find hangmen sufficient, nor gallows to hang them upon. Admit according to the variety of realms & provinces, that divers laws and customs have been instituted therein: Yet for a truth there was never nor never shallbe found any nation or common wealth in the world so barbarous, but hath been founded of justice. For to affirm that men can be preserved without justice, is as much as to say the fish can live without water. How is it possible that a common wealth may live without justice: sith without her cannot be ruled one only personae? Pliny in an epistle saith, that he himself having the charge of a province in Africa, demanded an old man and in government expert, what he might do to administer justice well? the aged man answered. Do justice of thyself, if thou wilt be a minister thereof: For the good judge, with the right yard of his own life, aught to measure the whole state of the common wealth. And he said further, if thou wilt be right with men, and clean before god, beware of presumption in thine office. For the proud and presumptuous judges often times do contrary in their words, and also exceed in their deeds. Pliny also saith that he profited more with the counsel this old man gave him; then with all that ever he had read in his books. O to how much is he bound that hath taken upon him to administer justice? For if such one be an upright man, he accomplisheth that whereunto he is bound: but if such one of himself be unjust, justly of god he ought to be punished, and likewise of men to be accused.  
When princes command their servants or subjects any thing, & that they cannot accomplish them in such sort as they had charge to do: then he ought to have them excused (those excepted) which govern realms & provinces. For no man leaveth to administer justice, but for want of knowledge or experience: or else through abundance of affection or malice. If a captain lose a battle he may excuse himself, saying his men were fled when they should have assaulted their enemies. A post may excuse high self for that the water's we● so high. A hunter may say the beast is escaped another way & others such like: but a governor of a common wealth, what excuse can he have that he doth not justice? Conscience ought to burden him, & also he ought to be ashamed to take upon him the charge of any thing, if he doubt to bring it to effect: for the shamefast faces & haute courages either aught to put that in execution which they take upon them, or else they ought to show a lawful cause why it took no effect. Let us know first what justice is, & then we shall know what is meet for the administration thereof. The office of a good judge is to defend the common wealth, to help the innocent, to aid the simple, to correct the offender, to honour the virtuous, to help the orphans, to do forth poor, to bridle the ambitious: finally by justice he ought to give each one his own, & to dispossess those which hold any thing wrongfully of others.  
When a prince commandeth any man to take the charge of justice, & such one doth not seek it of himself, if perchance afterwards he did not in all points uprightly in the administration thereof, he might have some excuse, saying that though he hath accepted it, it was not with mind because he would err, but because with good will he would obey. What shall we say of many which without shame, without knowledge, without experience, & without conscience, do procure the office of justice? O if princes knew what they give when they give the charge to any to govern the common wealth? I swear unto you, that they were better to give them goods to find them for .20. years: then for to trust them with the charge of justice .20. days. What a thing is it to see some men shameless, dishonest, great talkers, gluttons, ambitious, & covetous: the which without any reasonable cause authority or knowledge, demand of princes an office of justice, as if by justice they did demand their own? Would to god the giver would have an eye to those which in this wise do demand. But what shall we say of those that do solicit them, procure them, importune them, beseech them, & more than that, even as without shame they do demand it, so without conscience likewise they buy it. There remaineth in this case more as yet, that is, that if those cursed men do not attain to that which they demand, & if those (having no conscience) do not give it: then they blaspheme & complain of those which are in favour with princes, as if they had done them great injury. O what trouble is it to good men to accomplish the desire of the evil. For the covetous and ambitious persons do but desire that the good men had the like pain in giving that they have in demanding. Many times I have thought with myself, wherein so many damages of the common wealth should consist, such disobedience, such contrarieties, and so many thefts: and in the end I find, that all or the most part proceed in that, that they provide for ministers of justice, not for conscience sake, but for covetousness only. Admit that it appertain to all to desire and procure justice: yet to none it appertaineth so much to procure and defend it, as to the royal person, which the subjects ought some time to fear: but princes are bound to minister it equally to all. It is a great matter that princes be pure in life, and that their houses be well ordered, to the end that their justice be of credit and authority: For he which of himself is unjust, giveth no hope that an other at his hands should have justice. He which cannot govern his own house can evil govern the whole common wealth. These princes which are true in their words, clean in their lives, & just in their works: though some time they err in the administration of the common wealth, all excuse them, saying that they err not through the malice of themselves, but rather through the evil counsel of others. So that all which the good prince doth they commend, and all the evil that chanceth they excuse. plutarch in the second book of his common wealth sayeth, that herein some princes differ from others: For the evil prince is only obeyed, but the good prince is obeyed, feared, and loved. And more over he that is good, maketh heavy things light with his goodness: and the tyrant that is evil, maketh things which are light to be very heavy through his naughtiness. Happy is the Prince which is obeyed: but much more happy he, which is obeyed, feared, and loved. For the body is weary often times to obey: but the heart is never constrained to love. Titus the Emperor was once demanded of these 2. things, that is to weet: whether to reward the good, or to punish the evil were for a prince more natural. He answered. As natural as both the right and left arm is in a man: so necessary is reward & punishment in a prince. But as we help ourselves more with the right arm then with the left: so the prince ought more to endeavour himself to reward then to punish. For punishemement ought to be by the hands of a stranger: but reward ought to be with his own proper hands. When we persuade princes to be just, and that they do justice, it is not to be understanded that they should behead murderers, banish rebels and seditious persons, hang thieves, and bury felons alive. For such or other like things, rather appertain to bloody hangmen, then to pitiefull kings. All the profit of justice is, in that the prince be honest of person, careful for his household, zealous of the common wealth, and not large of his conscience. For princes ought not to be commended for murdering many cruelly: but for reforming the common wealth lovingly. plutarch in the comfortable oration that he wrote to Appoloni, speaking of the laws which Promotheus gave to the Egyptians: amongst the residue he resited these three that follow.  
We ordain and command, that princes lay not hands on others for any crimes or offences done unto himself. For princes ought not to use their hands to revenge their own injuries: but rather by justice to defend other that be injuried.  
We ordain and command, that all times when they shallbe in their common wealth and not in wars, they shall not wear weapons defensive, and much less offensive. For good princes neither aught to be hasty, to the end they may kill: nor yet to have vices, whereby they may be killed.  
We ordain & command, that the prince do not only not kill with his hands, but also that he do not see them do justice with his eyes.  
For how much noble and worthy a thing it is, before the presence of a prince that all should receive honour: so slanderous a thing it is that any in his presence should lose their lives.   

¶ The way that princes ought to use in choosing their judges and officers in their countries. Cap. two.  
SParthianus in the lives that he wrote of .30. tyrants said, that Ciriacus the tyrant, had a memorial made of certain of the Senators whom he would have killed: and when the thing was discovered they slew him. They found in the hands of an other tyrant named Regilius, after he was dead, a memorial of those which with his own hands he had deprived of their lives: wherefore they afterward deprived him of his burial O how many judges are there in this world, that do as much advance them selves of those whom they have caused to be whipped, to be slain, to be beheaded, to be hanged quartered & slain: as others do which have redeemed many captives, or have married many orphans. Those judges which according to the order of laws, customs, and jurisdictions do punish the evil, I do well allow: but to rejoice and advance themselves of them whom they have condemned, I utterly abhor. For the virtuous and christian judge ought rather to shed tears in the churches: then by affection to shed blood of men in the seat of judgement. And for the confirmation of that which I have said, I affirm, that the good judge and governor of the common wealth, ought not to bear in mind the murders and slaughters done by others: but to record the injuries which they have done themselves. For in other men's offences we ought to be silent: and for our own iniquities we ought to be penitent. judges execute some punishments, which men disallow, and god doth approve: an other time god condemneth than, though the world do allow them: therefore the surest thing for such judges is, not to rejoice of their brethren whom they have corrected, but what they themselves for their own offences have deserved. In judging others, by false witness, the judges many times against their wills do err: but in their own matters they can never err (unless they will) since the offences which we commit are always certain. Therefore it grieveth me that there be some so evil: which being accused before god would excuse themselves before men, yet their own brethren with false witnesses they dare condemn. Great care ought princes to have, to examine them whom they will make judges and governors. For the judge which daily maketh not an account with his conscience in secret, shall commit every hour a thousand evils in the common wealth. O poor and miserable common wealth, where the governors and judges thereof do not cast their eyes but unto them wh●e they ought to chastise, where they do not think in their heart but how they may enrich their coffers, where they do not occupy their hands but to take bribes, and do not pass the time but in banquets: And I said not without a cause banquets. For there are many judges which employ their study more to get friends, to maintain their state proudly: then for to read books, to judge men's causes uprightly. The judge which never readeth, the judge which never studieth, the judge which never openeth book, the judge which is never in his house, the judge which day & night robbeth, how is it possible that he execute one true justice? There can be no greater fear in a man, nor slander more great in the common wealth, then when the judge (who ought to judge and chastise the offences of others) is always overwhelmed with vices himself. The judge which presumeth to be good, and will be good, and desireth to be good: a man should find him no where, unless he be studying in his house, or sitting in the place of justice. Let not princes trust upon this, when they provide judges and governors for to judge, saying: that if they find any evil, they will soon cut him of, for such are so evil, that if they want to means to get to those offices, they shall want no cautils nor corrupt friends to suborn them therein. When princes & great lords shall find any judge evil, I counsel them to avoid him immediately, or that they show themselves not contented with his doings: for such one shall forthwith enforce himself to do justice, with intention that those of the common wealth might desire him to be their judge. Although my pen doth reprove these judges which are negligent and careless, the which neither by knowledge can judge, nor with stoutness punish. The judges which judge, and govern, ought not to be with all so familiar, that all dare take upon them to ask him: for in this case if some commend his gentle conversation, others will blame his partial justice. I counsel, admonish, and require Princes, that they content themselves not only to be true, pitiful, honest, and virtuous, nor yet to be just: but that it is as well necessary they be observers of justice. For let them know that there is great difference, between him that is just, and an other that doth minister justice: for to the prince that is good, cometh honour to his parson, but from him that ministereth justice, cometh profit to his common wealth. Peradventure it is no wonder to see the Prince that will tell no lie, and to see his ministers not to speak one truth? peradventure I do not think myself slandered, to see the prince temperate in eating, and to see all his servants distempered both with eating and drinking? peradventure, and it is no cause to muse upon, to see the princes chaste and honest: and to see their servants in flesh, filthy and dissolute? peradventure it is no cause to marvel to see the prince just, and to love justice: and that very few of his ministers do minister it.  
The end why all these things are spoken is, to advertise Princes that they be not so careful to be chaste, sober, true and just, but that they know whether their governors and judges are corrupted, covetous, greedy, unshame fast, liars, or bribers. For if it toucheth us much that our Princes be good: so much more it toucheth us that the ministers be not evil. One of the things wherein princes ought to provide with their judges and governors is, that by no means they suffer their laws and ancient customs to be broken in their common wealth: and that in their steeds strange customs be not introduced. For the commonalty is so variable in that they say, and so light in that they ask, that they would daily see a new king, and hourly change a new law. Pliny in an epistle that he writeth to Escario saith. Optime apud Persas capitalem per legem fuit prohibitum, novos aut peregrinos mores inducere. As if he spoke more plainly. Amongst the Perses it was a law inviolable, that no man should bring into the common wealth any strange custom: & for such an offence they should pay none other ransom, but the loss of their heads. As men daily do diminish in virtue (unless by force they be withholden) and augment in vanity: so they would invent new devices and strange customs, wherewith men should be decayed, and the common wealth destroyed. For strange meats do alter men's stomachs. When those of Creta were ungentlely used of the Rhodiens, they did not pray to their gods to send them pestilence, war, famine, or sedition among their enemies: but that they would suffer some evil manners to be brought in amongst their people. Let not those think that shall read this, that it was a small curse those of Creta desired, and that it was a small revenge which God gave them of their enemies, if he gave them that which they did require: For from wars, famine, and pestilence, some may escape: but with the new and strange devices, we see all perish. Of many things the Historians do reprove the Emperor Sergius Galba, and for one alone they do praise him, which is that he never consented that in Rome any new law should be made, nor any old custom broken. And he commanded that those should be grievously punished, which brought in any new law: and he rewarded those which put him in mind of any old custom, the which he commanded to be observed. It is a mockery, yea (better to say) a slander, to see that some young judges will do that of the common wealth, which a Tailor doth of a gown, (that is to say) to turn him within and without, before and behind, which they ought not to do, nor the people to consent thereunto.  
For the Prince doth not send them to make laws, nor to bring in new orders, but to the end that they do only preserve the common wealth in their good customs. Prince's ought also to take great care that unto little and great, rich and poor, they minister equal justice, sith there is no divine nor human law that giveth them power and authority to corrupt it, for if a Prince cannot without reason dispose his own goods, much less he can make laws and sell justice. We do not deny a Prince but that he is lord of beasts, of fish, of birds, of mines, of mountains, of servants and of fields, finally that he is lord of the sea and land: but therefore we will not grant him that he is lord of justice. For there is none other true Lord of justice but God, which is the self same justice. When a Prince dieth and maketh his will he saith: I leave all my realms & signories to the prince my son and legitimate heir, and do leave unto my second son such an estate and duchy, and to my daughter such lands, and to all I recommend justice, to the end they do observe it, and cause it to be observed every one in his own country. It is much to note that the father doth not say that he leaveth unto his son justice, but that he doth recommend it unto him: so that the good princes ought to think that they have not inherited justice of their predecessors in form of a patrimony, but that God gave it unto them of trust. Princes of all things may be called lords save only of justice, whereof they are but only ministers. We dare boldly say, that the prince or great lord which judgeth causes not according to the divine will, but according to their own affection, we will not call him a just judge, but a roving thief. For the prince is much worse which robbeth god of justice: then the thief which stealeth the goods from men. Suetonius Tranquillus reciteth much wickedness of Domician, and the greatest of all was, the poor, the Orphans and those which could do little, he always punished: & the other that were rich and of authority he pardoned. He compounded with some for money, and with other he dissembled for favour. Lampridius said of Alexander Severus, the .25. Emperor of Rome, that he never kept in his court any evil man, or suffered any of his parents to be vicious. And when he was demanded on a time why he banished one of his cousins, since he was young & a child? he answered them which entreated him for him and alleged: That though he was young & his cousin, yet Charior est mihi respub. as if more plainly he had said, I have none other nearer of kin to me in my palace then the common wealth. O high, and much more higher words, worthy for a truth to be written in princes hearts, whereby they ought to be advertised, that he said not, I take for my kin one part of the common wealth. For the prince which feareth god, and desired to be found just, as he will indifferently be obeyed of all, so ought he equally to administer justice to all. If they will not credit me nor my pen, let them credit Plato in the books of his common wealth: who giveth liberty and licence to all the plebeians, to the end that every one do love his wife, his children, and his parents. And this sort of love he will not that princes have, to whom he persuadeth that first above all things they love their common wealth: for if the Prince do love any other thing above his common wealth, it is unpossible but that one day for the love of that he will writhe justice. When Plato gave not licence to Princes not to enlarge their love on divers things, peradventure he would counsel them that they should do some wrongs. It chanceth oft times that princes do omit justice, not for that they will not administer it but because they will not be informed of things, which they ought to remedy, and look unto. And this is unexcusable, where he hurteth his honour, and burdeneth his conscience. For at the day of judgement, though he be not accused for malice: yet he shallbe condemned for negligence. The prince which is careful, to see and inquire the dominages of his realms: we may say that if he doth not provide for them, it is because he can do no more, but he which is negligent to see them, and know them: we cannot say but if he leave to provide, it is for that he will not. The prince or great lord, which dare take upon him such things, what name or renown may we give him? I would not we should call such a one father of the common wealth: but destroyer of his country. For there can be no tyranny greater, nor more unequal: then for the Physician to ask his duty for his cure, before he hath begun to minister the medicine. That Princes and great lords desire to know their revenues, I allow them: but in that they care not to know the dommages of their common wealths, I do discommend them. For the people pay tribute to their Princes, to the end they should deliver them from their enemies, and defend them from tyrants. For the judges which willbe evil, though I say much, it will profit little: but to those which desire to be good, that which is spoken (as I think) sufficeth. notwithstanding that which is spoken I say, that judges and governors ought to consider well with themselves, and see if they will be counted for just ministers, or cruel tyrants. For the office of a tyrant is, to rob the common wealth: and the office of the good Prince is, to reform the people.  
Princes and great lords, have more business than they think they have: to see all those which will see them, and to hear all those which will complain unto them. And the cause hereof is, admit that which the subject demandeth, he presently cannot give, nor that whereof he complaineth, he cannot remedy: yet notwithstanding they remain after a sort contented, saying that they have now showed all their complaints and injuries to their princes. For the wounded hearts often times utter their inward pains which they feel, without any hope to receive comfort of that which they desire. plutarch in his Apothegms sayeth, that a poor and aged woman, desired king Philipe of Macedon (which was the father of king Alexander the great) that he would hear her with justice: and sith she was very importunate upon him, king Philip said on a day unto her. I pray the woman be contented, I swear by the gods I have no leisure to hear thy complaint. The old woman answered the king. Behold king Phillyppe, if thou hast not time to hear me with justice, resign thy kingdom, & another shall govern thy common wealth.   

¶ Of an oration which a villain dwelling near to the river of Danuby made before the Senators of Rome, concerning the tyrannies and oppressions, which their officers used in his country. And the oration is divided into three Chapters. Cap. iii.  
IN the ten year of the reign of the good emperor Marcus Aurelius there happened in Rome a general pestilence: the which being so outrageous, the good emperor went into campaign, which at that time was very healthful, and without diseases, though it was very dry, and wanted much of that which was necessary: yet notwithstanding, the good Emperor was there with all the principal Senators of Rome. For in time of pestilence, men do not seek where they should rejoice their parsons: but where they may save their lives. Marcus Aurelius being there in Campania, was sore vexed with a fever. And as his condition was always, to be amongst Sages: so at that time his sickness required to be visited of physicians. The resort that he had in his palace was very great, as well of Philosophers for to teach: as of physicians for to dispute. For this prince ordained his life in such sort: that in his absence things touching the war were well provided: and in his presence was nothing but matters of knowledge argued. It chanced one day as Marcus Aurelius was environed with Senators, Philosophers, physicians, and other sage men, a question was moved among them, how greatly Rome was changed, not only in buildings, which almost were utterly decayed: but also in manners, which were wholly corrupted: the cause of all this evil grew, for that Rome was full of flatterers: and destitute of those which durst say the truth. These and such other like words heard: the emperor took up his hand and blessed him, and declared unto them a notable example, saying. In the first year that I was consul there came a poor villain from the river of Danuby, to ask justice of the Senate, against a Censor which did sore oppress the people, and in deed he did so well propound his complaint, and declare the folly and injuries which the judges did in his country: that I doubt whether Marcus Cicero could utter it better with his tongue, or the renowned Homer have written it more eloquently with his pen. This villain had a small face, great lips, hollow eyes, his colour burnt, curled hear, bareheaded, his shoes of a Porpige skin, his coat of goats skin, his girdle of bull rushes, a long beard and thick, his eye breyes covered his eyes, the stomach, & the neck covered with skins, heard as a bear, and a club in his hand. Without doubt when I saw him enter into the Senate, I imagined it had been a beast in form of a man: and after I heard that which he said, I judged him to be a God (if there are Gods) amongst men. For if it was a fearful thing to behold his person, it was no less monstrous to hear his words. At that time, there was great press at the door of the Senate, of many and divers persons, for to solicit the affairs of their provinces: yet notwithstanding this villain spoke before the others, for two causes. The one, for that men were desirous to hear what so monstrous a man would say: the other because the Senators had this custom, that the complaints of the poor should be heard, before the requests of the rich. Wherefore this villain afterwards in the midst of the Senate, began to tell his tale, and the cause of his coming thither: in the which he showed himself no less bold in words, than he was in his attire strange, and said unto them in this sort. O father's conscript, and happy people, I Mileno a ploughman, dwelling near unto the river of Danube, do salute you worthy Senators of Rome, which are convented here in this Senate, & I beseech the immortal gods my tongue this day so to govern, that I may say that which is convenient for my country, and that they help you others to govern well the common wealth. For without the help of God, we can neither learn the good, nor avoid the evil. The fatale destinies permitting it, and our wrathful Gods forsaking us, our mishap was such, & to ye others fortune showed herself so favourable: that the proud captains of Rome, byforce of arms took our country of Germany. And I say not without a cause, that at that time the gods were displeased with us: for if we Germans had appeased our Gods, ye Romans might well have excused yourselves for overcoming of us. Great is your glory O Romans, for the victories ye have had, and triumphs which of many realms ye have conquered: but notwithstanding greater shall your infamy be in the world to come, for the cruelties which you have committed. For I let you know, if you do not know it, that when the wicked went before the triumphing chariots saying, live, live, invincible Rome: on the other side the poor captives went saying in their hearts, justice, justice. My predecessors inhabited by the river of Danuby, for when the dry earth annoyed them, they came to recreate themselves in the fresh water: and if perchance the unconstant water did annoy them, than they would return again to the main land. And as the appetites and conditions of men are variable: so there is a time to fly from the land, to refresh ourselves by the water. And time also when we are annoyed with the water to return again to the land. But how shall I speak Romans, that which I would speak? your covetousenes of taking other men's goods hath been so extreme, & your pride of commanding strange countries hath been so disordinate: that neither the sea can suffice you in the deepness thereof, neither the land assure us in the fields of the same. O how great comfort it is for the troubled men, to think and be assured that there are just gods, the which will do justice on the unjust. For if the oppressed men thought themselves not assured, that the gods would wreak their injury of their enemies: they with their own hands would destroy themselves. The end why I speak this is, for so much as I hope in the just gods, that as you others with out reason have cast us out of our houses: so by reason shall others come after us, and cast you others out of Italy, & Rome both. There in my country of Germany, we take it for a rule unfallyble, that he which by force taketh the good of another: by reason ought to lose his own proper right. And I hope in the gods, that that which we have for a proverb in Germany, you shall have for experience here in Rome. By the gross words I speak, & by the strange apparel which I wear, you may well imagine that I am some rude v●●laine or barbarous borne: but yet notwithstanding I want not reason to know, who is just and righteous in holding his own: and who is a tyrant in possessing of others. For the rude men of my profession, though in good style they cannot declare that which they would utter: yet notwithstanding that, we are not ignorant of that which ought to be allowed for good, nor which ought to be condemned for evil. I would say therefore in this case, that that which the evil with all their tyranny have gathered in many days, the gods shall take from them in one hour: and contrariwise all that which the good shall lose in many years, the gods will cestore it them in one minute. For speaking the truth, the evil to prosper in riches, is not for that the gods will it, but that they do suffer it, and though at this hour we complain dissembling, we suffer much, but the time shall come that will pay for all. Believe me in one thing, O Romans, and doubt not therein: that of the unlawful gain of the fathers, followeth after the just undoing of their children. Many often times do marvel in my country, what the cause is that the gods do not take from the wicked that which they win, immediately as soon as they win it: and as I think the reason hereof is, for the dissembling with them, by little and little they gather together divers things, and afterwards when they think lest thereon, it is taken from them all at once. For the just judgement of the gods is, that since without reason they have done evil to others: others by reason should come in like manner which do evil unto them. It is unpossible that the valiant and sage man, who in his deeds presumeth to be wise, should take any taste in an other man's good: for if he did, he would never content himself with any thing, sith he hath not a conscience in that which is evil gotten, I know not Romans, whether you understand me, but because you shall understand me better, I say, that I marvel, & I should rather wonder, how the man keeping another man's goods, can sleep or rest one hour, sith he knoweth he hath done injury to the gods, slandered his neighbours, pleased his enemies, lost his friends, & endamaged those that he rob, & worst of all that he hath put his person in peril. And I say, that he hath put his person in peril: for the day that any man determineth to take my goods, he will also the same day (if he can) take my life. It is an odious thing to the gods, and very slanderous among men, that men should have so much (through their fleshly desires) virtue bound, and the rain of their evil works so much at liberty, that another man's misery seemeth to him riches, and that his own riches seemeth to himself poverty. I care not whether he be Greek, barbarous, Roman, present or absent, I say and affirm, that he is and shallbe cursed of gods and hated of men, which without consideration will change his good fame into shame, justice into wrong, right into tyranny, truth into lies, the certain for the doubtful, hating his own proper, and sighing for that of other men's. He that hath his chief intention to gather goods for his children, and seeketh not a good name among the renowned: it is just that such one do not only lose the goods which he hath gathered, but also that without good name he remain shameful among the wicked. Since you other Romans naturally are proud, & pride doth blind you, you think yourselves happy, that for having so much as ye have more than others, that therefore you should be more honoured than all, the which truly is not so. For if presently you will not open your eyes & confess your own errors, you shall see, that whereas you avaunt yourselves to be lords of strange provinces: you shall find yourselves made slaves with your own proper goods. Gather as much as you will, let them do all you do command them: yet as I think it little availeth to have Plebeians houses with goods, and contrariwise the hearts to be possessed with covetousness. For the riches which are gotten with covetousness, and are kept with avarice, do take away the good name from the possessor, and do nothing avail to maintain his life. It cannot be suffered many days, and much less hid many years, that one man should be counted both for rich among the rich, and for honoured among the honourable: for it is unpossible that he which is a great lover of temporal goods, should be a friend of his good name. O if the covetous men were of their own honour as greedy, as they are of the goods of an other desirous: I swear unto you by the immortal gods, that the little worm or moth of covetousness would not gnaw the rest of their life, nor the canker of infamy should destroy their good name after their death. hearken you Romans, hearken what I will say, and I beseech the gods that you may understand it: For otherwise I should lose my labour, and ye others should take no fruit of my words. I see that all the world hateth pride, & yet there is none that will follow humanity. Every man condemneth adultery, and yet I see no man that liveth chaste. Every man curseth excess, and I see no man live temperately. Every man praiseth patience, and I see no man that will suffer. Every man blameth sloth, and I see no man, but those that are idle. Every one blameth avarice, and yet every man robbeth. One thing I say, & not without tears in this senate, openly I do declare it, which is, that with the tongue every man praiseth virtue: and yet they themselves with all their limbs are servants unto vices. Do not think that I say this only for the Romans which be in Illiria: but for the Senators which I see here in the Senate. Al you Romans, in your devices about your arms, have this for your word. Romanorum est debellare superbos, & parcere subiectis. truly you should better have said: Romanorum, est spoliare innocentes, & reddere subiectos. For you romans are but destroyers of the people that be peaceable: and robbers of the sweat & labours of strangers.   

¶ The villain argueth against the Romans, which without cause or reason conquered their country, and proved manifestly that they thorough offending of their gods, were vanquished of the Romans. Cap. iiii.  
I Ask ye Romans what occasion ye have, that are brought up nigh to the river of Tiber, against us that live in peace, nigh to the river of Danuby. Peradventure ye have seen us friends to your foes, or else we have showed ourselves your enemies? peradventure you have hard say, that forsaking our own land, we should go conquer foreign realms? peradventure ye have been advertised, that we rebelling against our own lords, should become obedient to the cruel barbarous? peradventure ye have sent us some ambassador to desire us to be your friends: or else there came some from us to rome, to defy ye as our enemies? peradventure some king died in our realm, which by his testament made ye heirs to our realm? whereby you claim your title, and seek to make us your subjects? peradventure by some ancient law or custom ye have found, that the noble and worthy Germany, of necessity is subject to the proud people of Rome? peradventure we have destroyed your armies, we have wasted your fields, sacked your cities, spoiled your subjects, or favoured your enemies? so that to revenge these injuries ye should destroy our land? if we had been your neighbours, or you ours, it had been no marvel though one should have destroyed the other. For it chanceth oftentimes, that through controversy of a little piece of ground, tedious wars between people arise. Of a troth none of all these things which I have named, hath chanced between ye Romans and us Germans. For in Germany we felt your tyranny, so soon as we hard of your renown. If ye be grieved with that I have said, I pray you be not offended with that I will say, which is: that the name of Romans, & the cruelty of tyrants, arrived together in one day upon our people. And what more to say, I know not Romans, of the little care the gods do take, & of the great audacity that men have. For I see that he which possesseth much doth oppress him which hath but little: & he that hath but little, weigheth not him that hath much. So disordered covetousness striveth with secret malice, & secret malice giveth place to open theft, & open robbery no man resisteth, & thereof cometh, that the covetise of a malicious man is accomplished, to the prejudice of a whole state. hearken ye romans, hearken, & by the immortal gods I do conjure you, give ear to that I will say, which is, consider well what you have dō● for the gods words be in vain, or else men must have an end, the world in time must needs fall, or else the world shallbe no world. Fortune must needs make sure the pin of the wheel, or else that shallbe seen which never was seen, which is: that which in .8. years ye have won, ye shall withein .8. days lose. For nothing can be more just, since ye by force have made yourselves tyrants: then that the gods by justice should make ye slaves. And do not think ye romans though you have subdued Germany, and be lords thereof, that it was by any warrely industry: for ye are no more warlike, no more courageous, nor more hardy, ne yet more valiant than we Germans, but sins through our offences we have provoked the gods to wrath, they for the punishment of our disordinate vices ordained, that ye should be a cruel plague & scourge to our persons. Do not take yourselves to be strong, neither repute us to be so weak, that if the gods at that time had favoured the one part, as much as the other: it might perchance have happened, ye should not have enjoyed the spoil. For to say the truth, ye won not the victory through the force of weapons, that you brought from Rome: but through the infinite vices, which ye found in Germany. Therefore since we wear not overcome for being cowards, neither for being weak, nor yet for being fearful, but only for being wicked, & not having the gods favourable unto us: what hope ye Romans to become of you, being as you are vicious, & having the gods angry with you? Do not think Romans' to be the more victorious, for that ye assemble great armies, or that ye abound in treasures, neither for that you have greater gods in your aid, or that ye build greater temples, nor yet for that ye offer such great sacrifices. For I let you know, if ye do not know it, that no man is in more favour with the gods, than he which is at peace with virtue. If the triumphs of the conquerors consists in nothing else but in subtle wits, politic captains, valiant soldiers, & great armies: without doubt it would little avail to carry all this to the war, sins afterwards we see by experience, that men can do no more but give the battles, & the gods themselves must give the victories. If I be not deceived, I think that for our offences we have sufficiently satisfied the god's wrath. But truly I believe that the cruelties which ye have done unto us, and the unthankfulness which you have showed the gods (though as yet ye have not paid it) that once ye shall pay it. And hereafter it may chance, that as presently ye count us for slaves: so in time to come ye shall acknowledge us for lords. Since the travailing by the way, I have seen the high mountains, divers provinces, sundry nations, countries so savage, people so barbarous, such and so many miles as Germany is distant from Room, I muse what fond toy came in the Romans heads: to send to conquer Germany. If covetousness of treasures caused it, I am sure they spent more money to conquer it, and at this present do spend to keep it, than the whole revenues of Germany amountethe, or may amount in many years: and perchance they may lose it, before they recover that they spent to conquer it. And if ye say unto me Romans that Germany is not conquered of Rome for ever, but that only Rome should have the glory to be mistress of germany, this also I say is vanity and folly. For little availeth it to have the forts and castles of the people: when the hearts of the inhabitants are absent. If ye say that therefore ye conquered Germany, to amplify and enlarge the limits and bounds of Rome, also me thinketh this as foolish an enterprise. For it is not the point of wise and valiant men to enlarge their dominions: and diminish their honour. If ye say ye sent to conquer us, to the end we should not be barbarous, nor live like tyrants, but that you would we should live after your good laws and customs, if it be so I am well content. But how is it possible ye should give laws to strangers, when you break the laws of your own predecessors? great shame ought they to have, which take upon them to correct others, when they have more need to be corrected themselves. For the blind man ought not to take upon him to lead the lame. If this be true (as presently it is) what reason or occasion had proud Rome, to take and conquer the innocent germany? Let us all go therefore to rob, to kill, to conquer, and to spoil, sins we see the world so corrupt, and so far from the love of god, that every man (as we may perceive) taketh what he can, killeth whom he will, and that which worst of all is, that neither those which govern will remedy so many evils as are committed, neither those which are offended dare complain. Ye chief judges at this day are so hard to be entreated, ye take so little regard unto the poor oppressed: that they think it more quiet to remain in trouble at home, then to come and put up their complaints before you here at Rome. And the cause hereof is, that there in their country they have but one which pursueth them: and here in this senate they are evil willed of all, and that is, because he which complaineth is poor, and the other which is complained on is rich. Therefore since fortune would it, and the fatal destinies permit it that the proud Rome should be mistress of our germany, it is but reason ye should keep us in justice, and maintain us in peace. But you do not so, but rather those which come thither do take from us our goods, and ye that are here do rob us of our good name, saying, that since we are a people without law, without reason, & without a king (as unknown barbarous) ye may take us for slaves. In this case ye Romans are greatly deceived, for me thinketh with reason ye can not call us without reason, since we being such as we are, and as the gods created us, remain in our proper countries, without desiring to seek or invade foreign realms. For with more reason we might say, that ye were men without reason, being not contented with the sweet and fertile italy: but that through shedding of blood you should desire to conquer all the earth. In that ye say we deserve to be slaves, because we have no prince to command us, nor senate to govern us, nor army to defend us, to this I will answer. That since we had no enemies, we needed no armies, & sith every man is contented with his lot and fortune, we had no necessity of a proud senate to govern us, & we being as we are all equal, it need not we should consent to have any princes amongst us. For the office of princes is to suppress tyrants, & to maintain the people in peace. If ye say further that we have not in our country a common wealth, nor policy, but that we live as the brute bests in the mountains, in this also you have but small reason. For we in our country did suffer no liars, neither rebels, nor seditious persons, nor men that brought us (from strange countries) any apparel for to be vicious, so that sith in apparel we were honest, & in meat very temperate, we needed no better behaviour. For although in our country there are no merchands of Carthage, oil of Mauritania, merchants of Tire, Steele, of Cantabrie, odours of Asia, gold of spain, silver of Britain, Amber of Sidonie, silk of Damascus, corn of Scicill, wine of Candy, purple of araby: yet for all this we are not brutish, neither cease to have a common wealth. For these & such other like things, give more occasion to stir up many vices: them for virtuous men to live according to virtue. Blessed, & happy is that common wealth, not where  riches abundeth, but where virtues are highly commended: not where many light & angry men resort, but where the patient are resident: therefore it followeth, that of that commonwealth of Rome for being rich, we should have pity: & of the common wealth of Germany for being poor, ye ought to have envy. Would to god that the contentation we have with our poverty, ye others had the same with your riches. For than neither ye had rob us of our countries, nor we had not comen hither now to complain in Rome of your tyranny. I see romans, that the one differeth much from the other. For ye others, though ye hear our opressions, yet thereby ye lose not your pastime but we others can never dry the tears of our eyes, nor cease to bewail our infinite misfortunes.   

¶ The villain concludeth his oration against the judges, which minister not justice, and declareth how prejudicial such wicked men are unto the public weal. Cap. v.  
YE would think I have said all that I can say, but certainly it is not so. For there remaineth many things to speak, which to hear ye will be astonished, yet be ye assured, that to speak than I will not be afraid, sith you others in doing them are not ashamed. For an open offence, deserveth not secret correction. I marvel much at ye Romans, what ye meaned to send us (as you did) such ignorant judges, the which by the imortal gods I swear, can neither declare us your laws, & much less they can understand ours. And the cause of all this evil is, that ye sent not those which be best able to minister to us justice in Germany, but those which have best friends with you in Rome: presuppose that to those of the senate, ye give the office of censourship, more for importunity, than for ability. It is little that I can say here, in respect they dare do there. That which ye command them here, I know not but of that which they do there, I am not ignorant, which is. Your judges take all bribes that are brought unto them openly: and they poll & shave as much as they can secretly. They grievously punish the offences of the poor, & dissemble with the faults of the rich: they consent to many evils, to have occasion to commit greater thefts: they forget the government of the people to take their pleasure in vice. And being there to mitigate slanders, they are those which are most slanderous: & without goods it availethe no man to ask justice. And finally under the colour that they be judges of Rome, they fear not to rob all the land of Germany. What meaneth this ye Romans, shall your pride never have end in commanding, nor your covetise in robbing? Say unto us what ye will in words, but oppress us not so in deeds. If you do it for our children, load them with irons & make them slaves. For ye can not charge them with more than they are able to carry but of commandments & tributes ye give us more than we are either able to carry, or suffer. If you do it for our goods, go thither & take them all. For in our country we do not use as ye Romans do, nor have such conditions as ye have here in Rome. For you desire to live poor, because ye desire to die rich. If ye say that we will rebel, I marvel what you should mean to think so, sith ye have spoiled us, rob us, & handled us ill. Assure me ye Romans, that ye will not unpeople us: & I will assure you we will not rebel. If our service do not contentye, strike of our heads as to evil men. For (to tell ye the truth) the knife shall not be so fearful to our necks, as your tiranies be abhorred in our hearts. Do ye know what you have done, ye Romans, ye have caused us of the miserable realm to swear, never to dwell with our wives, & to slay our own children, rather than to leave them in the hands of so wicked and cruel tyrants as ye be. For we had rather they should die in liberty, than live in bondage. As desperate men we have determined to suffer, & endure the beastly motions of the flesh, during the time we have to live, to the end we will not get our wives with child. For we had rather live chaste .20. or .30. years, them to leave our children perpetual slaves If it be true that the children must endure, that which the miserable fathers do suffer? It is not only good to slay them, but also it should be better not to agree they should be borne. Ye ought not to do this Romans, for the land taken by force, aught the better to be governed, to the intent that the miserable captives seeing justice duly administered presently, should thereby forget the tyranny passed, & content themselves with perpetual servitude. And sith it is true, that we are come to complain of the oppressions which your officers do here upon the river of Danuby, peradventure ye which are of the se not will hear us, & though you are now determined to hear us, yet ye are slow to remedy us: so that before ye begin to reform an evil custom, the whole common wealth is all ready undone. I will tell ye of some things thereof, to th'intent you may know them, & then to refourm them. If there come a right poor man to demand justice, having no money to give, nor wine to present, nor oil to promise, nor friends to help him, nor revenue to secure him, & maintain him in expenses: after he hath complained they satisfy him with words, saying unto him that speedily he shall have justice. What will ye I should say, but that in the mean time they make him spend that little he hath, & give him nothing though he demand much, they give him vain hope, & they make him waste the best of his life, every one of them doth promiss his favour, & afterwards they all lay hands upon him to oppress him. The most of them say his right is good, & afterwards they give sentence against him: so that the miserable person which came to complain of one, returneth home complaining of all, cursing his cruel destinies, & crying out to the just and merciful gods for revengement. It chanceth also, that oft times there cometh to complain hear in the Senate, some flattering man more for malice, then by reason of right, or justice: and ye Senators crediting his double words, & his feigned tears, immediately ordain a Censor to go & give audience on their complaints. Who being gone, & returned, ye seek more to remedy & give ear to the complaints of the judge: them to the slanders which were among the people. I will declare unto you mye life, O ye Romans, & thereby ye shall see how they pass their life in my country. I live by gathering acorns in the winter, & reaping corn in the summer, some time I fish aswell of necessity, as of pleasure, so that I pass almost all my life alone in the fields, or in the mountains. And if you wot not why, hear me, & I will show you. I see such tyranny in your judges, & such robberies as they commit among the poor people, & there are such dissensions in that realm, such injuries committed therein, the poor common wealth is so spoiled, there are so few that have desire to do good, and also there are so few that hope for remedy in the senate: that I am determined (as most unhappy) to banish myself out of mine own house, & to separate myself from my sweet company, to the end my eyes should not behold so miserable a change. For I had rather wander solitary in the fields, then to see my neighbours hourly lament in the streets. For there the cruel beasts do not offend me, unless I do assault them: but the cursed men, though I do serve them, yet daily they vex me. Without doubt it is a marvelous pain to suffer an overthrow of fortune: but it is a greater torment when one felethe it without remedy. And yet witheoute comparison my greatest grief is, when my loss may be remedied, & that he which may, will not: & he that will, can not by any means remedy it. O cruel Romans, ye feel nothing that we feel, inespecially I which speak it, ye shall see how I feel it, since only to reduce it to memory my eyes do dazzle, my tongue will wax weary, my joints do sever, my heart doth tremble, my entrails do break, and my flesh consumeth, what a woeful thing is it, in my country to see it with my eyes, to hear it with my ears, & to feel it with mine own hands? Truly the griefs which the woeful Germany suffereth are such, & so many: that I believe yet the merciful gods will have compassion upon us. I will not desire ye to think slander of my words: but only I do beseech ye, you will understand well what I say. For you imagining (as you do presume to be discrete) shall see right well that the troubles which came to us from men, & among men, with men, & by the hands of men: it is a small mattery we as men do feel them speaking. For according to the truth, & also with liberty, if I should declare every other just advertisement which came from the senate, & all the tyranny which your judges commit in the miserable realm, one of these .2. things must ensue, either the punishment of me, or the deprivation of your officers if I say true. One thing only comforteth me, or whereof I with other infortunate people have had experience, in that I think myself happy, to know that the just plagues proceed not from the just gods, but through the just deserts of wicked men: And that our secret fault doth waken those, to the end that they of us may execute open justice. Of one thing only I am sore troubled, because the gods can not be contented, but for a small fault, they punish a good man much: & for many faults, they punish evil men nothing at all, so that the gods do bear with the one, & forgive nothing unto the other. O secret judgements of god, that as I am bound to praise your works, so likewise if I had licence to condemn them, I durst say, that ye cause us to suffer grievous pains, for that ye punish & persecute us by the hands of such judges, the which (if justice took place in the world) when they chastise us with their hands, they do not deserve to have their heads on their shoulders. The cause why now again I do exclaim on the immortal gods, is to see, that in these 15. days I have been at Rome, I have seen such deeds done in your senate that if the least of them had been done at Danuby, the gallows & gibbets had been hanged thicker of thieves, than the vineyard is with grapes. I am determined to see your doings, to speak of your dishonesty in apparel, your little temperance in eating, & your disorder in affairs, & your pleasures in living: and on the other side, I see that when your provision arriveth in our country, we carry into the temples, & offer it to the gods, we put it on their heads: so that the one meeting with the other, we accomplish that which is commanded, & accurse those that commanded. And sith therefore my heart hath now seen, that which it desireth, my mind is at rest, in spitting out the poison which in it abideth. If I have in any thing here offended with my tongue, I am ready to make recompense with my head. For in good faith I had rather win honour, in offering myself to death: than ye should have it, in taking from me my life. And here the villain ended his talk, immediately after Mar. Aur. said to those which were about him. How think ye my friends, what kernel of a nut, what gold of the mine, what corn of straw, what rose of briars, what marry of bones, & how noble & valiant a man hath he showed himself? What reasons so high, what words so well couched, what truth so true, what sentences so well pronounced, & also what open malice hath he discovered? By the faith of a good man I swear, as I may be delivered from this fever which I have: I saw this villain standing boldly a whole hour on his feet, & all we beholding the earth as amazed, could not answer him one word. For in deed this villain confuted us with his purpose, & astonished us, to see the little regard he had of his life. The senate afterwards, being all agreed, the next day following we provided new judges for the river of Danuby, & commanded the villain to deliver us by writing, all that he had said by mouth, to the end it might be registered in the book of good saying of strangers, which were in the senate. And further it was agreed, that the said villain (for the wise words he spoke) should be chosen senator, and of the free men of Rome he should be one: and that for ever he should be sustained with the common treasure. For our mother Rome hath always been praised & esteemed, not only to acquit the services which hath been done unto her: but also the good words, which were spoken in the Senate.   

¶ That princes & noble men ought to be very circumspect in choosing judges and officers, for therein consisteth the profit of the public weal, Cap. vi.  
ALexander the great (as the historiographers say) in his youth used hunting very much specially of the mountains: & that which is to be marveled at, he would not hunt Dear, goats, hares, nor partridges: but Tigers, Lyberdes, elephants, cocodrilles, and Lions. So that this mighty prince did not only show the excellency of his courage, in conquering proud princes: but also in chase of cruel, & savage beasts. plutarch in his Apothegms sayeth: that the great Alexander had a familiar servant, named Crotherus, to whom often times he spoke these words. I let the to know Crotherus, that the valiant princes ought not only to be upright in their realms which they govern: but also to be circumspect in pastimes which they use, that the authority which in the one they have won, in the other they do not lose. When Alexander spoke these words truly he was of more authority then of years: But in the end he gave this example, more to be followed, & commanded, then to be reproved or blamed I say to be followed, not in the hunting that he exercised: but in the great courage which he showed. To the plebeians & men of base condition, it is a little thing that in one matter they show their might, & in other things their small power is known: but to princes & great lords it is a discommendable thing, that in earnest matters any man should accuse them of pride, & in things of sport, they should count them for light. For the noble & valiant Prince, in things of importance, aught to show great wisdom, & in mean things, great stoutness. The case was such, that Alexander the great, hunting on the wild mountains, by chance met with a cruel Lion, & as the good Prince would win his honour with the Lion, & also the Lion preserve his own life, they were in griepes the one of the other so fast, that both fell to the earth, where they strived almost half an hour, but in the end the lion remained there dead, and the hardy Alexander escaped all bloody. This huntynge of Alexander and the Lion thorough all Grece, was greatly renowned. I say greatly renowned, because the gravers & painters drew a portrait forthwith in stone work, of this hunting, & the gravers hereof were Lisippus, and Leocarcus, marvelous gravers of anuk works, which they made of metal, where they lively set forth Alexander & the Lion fight, & also a familiar servant of his named Crotherus, being among the dogs beholding them. So that the work seemed not only to represent an ancient thing but that the Lion, Alexander, Crotherus, & the dogs, seemed also to be alive in the same chase. When Alexander fought with the Lion, there came an ambassador from Sparthes' to Macedonia, who spoke to Alexander these words. Would to god (immortal prince) that the force you have used with the Lion, in the mountain, you had employed against some prince, for to be Lord of the earth. By the words of the ambassador, & the deeds of Alexander, may easily by gathered, that as it is comely for Princes to be honest, valiant, and stout: so to the contrary it is unseemly for them to be bold, and rash. For though princes of their goods be liberal, yet of their life they ought not to be prodigal. The divine Plato, in the tenth book of his laws saith, that the .2. renowned Philosophers of Thebes, whose names were Adonis, & Clinias fell at variance with themselves, to know in what thing the prince is bound to adventure his life, Clinias said, that he ought to die for any thing touching his honour. Adonis said the contrary. That he should not hazard his life, unless it were for matters touching the affairs of the common wealth. Plato saith, those .2. philosophers had reason in that they said: but admit that occasion to die should be offered the prince, for the one, or the other: he ought rather to die for that thing touching justice, then for the thing touching his honour. For there is no great difference, to die more for the one, then for the other. Applying that we have spoken, to that we will speak, I say, that we do not desire, nor we will not, that princes and great lords do destroy themselves with Lions in the chase, neither adventure their persons in the wars, nor that they put their lives in peril for the common weal: but we only require them, that they take some pains and care to provide for things belonging to justice. For it is a more natural hunting for princes, to hunt out the vicious of their common weals: then for to hunt the wild bores, in the thick woods. To the end princes accomplish this which we have spoken, we will not ask them time when they ought to eat, sleep, hunt, sport & recreate themselves: but that of the four and twenty hours that be in the day and night they take it for a pleasure and commodity one hour to talk of justice. The government of the commonweal consisteth not, in that they should travail until they sweat, and molest their bodies, shed their blood, shorten their lives, and lose their pastimes: but all consisteth, in that they should be diligent to foresee the damages of their common wealth, and likewise to provide for good ministers of justice. We do not demand Princes and great lords, to give us their goods, nor we forbid them not to eat, to forsake sleep, to sport, to hunt, nor to put their lives in danger: but we desire and beseech them, that they provide good ministers of justice for the common wealth.  
first they ought to be very diligent to search them out, and afterwards to be more circumspect to examine than: for if we sigh with tears to have good Princes, we ought much more to pray that we have not evil officers. What profytethe it the knight to be nimble, & if the horse be not ready? what availeth it the owner of the ship to be sage, & expert, if the Pilot be a fool & ignorant? What profiteth the king to be valiant and stout, and the Captain of the war to be a coward? I mean by this I have spoken, what profiteth it a Prince to be honest, if those which minister justice be dissolute? What profiteth it us that 〈◊〉 prince be true, if his officers beliers? What profiteth it us that the prince be sober, if his ministers be drunkards? What profiteth it that the prince be gentle, & loving, if his officers be cruel, & malicious? What profiteth it us, that the prince be a giver, liberal, & an alms man, if the judge that ministereth justice, be a briber, & an open thief? What profiteth it that the prince be careful, & virtuous, if the judge be negligent and vicious? finally I say, that it little availeth that the prince in his house be secretly just, if adjoining to that, he trust a tyrant & open these with the government of the common weal. Princes and great Lords when they are within their palaces at pleasure, their minds occupied in high things, do not receive into their secret company, but their entire friends. Another time they will not, but occupy themselves in pastimes and pleasure: so that they know not what they have to amend in their persons, & much less that which they ought to remedy in their common weals. I will not be so eager in reproving, neither so satirycal in writing, that it should seem I would persuade Princes, that they live not according to the highness of their estates: but according to the life of the religious. For if they will keep themselves from being tyrants, or being outrageously vicious: we cannot denay them some times to take their pleasures. But mye intention is not, so strayghtelye to command Princes to be just: but only to show them how they are bound to do justice. Common wealths are not lost, for that their Princes live in pleasure: but because they have little care of justice. In the end people do not murmur when the Prince doth recreate his person: but when he is to slack to cause justice to be executed. I would to GOD, that Princes took an account with god, in the things of their conscience, touching the common wealth: as they do with men, touching their rents and revenues. plutarch in an Epistle he wrote to Traiayne the Emperor, sayeth: it pleaseth me very well, most puissant Prince, that the Prince be such one, as all may say that in him there is nothing worthy of reprehension: butt adding thereunto, it dyspleasethe me much more that he should have so evil judges, that all should say, in them were nothing worthy of commendation. For the faults of Princes very well may be excused: butt the offences of the officers, can by no means be endured. Many Princes and great Lords deceive themselves, in thinking that they do their duty, in that they be virtuous in their persons, but it is not so: For it suffysethe not a Prince to draw unto him all virtues, butt also he is bound to root all vices out of the common wealth.  
Admit that Princes will not, or of themselves cannot govern the common wealth: yet let us desire and admonish them, to seek good officers to do it for them. For the poor Plebeian hath no account to render, but of his good or evil life: butt the Prince shall render account, of his vicious life which he hath led, and of the little care that he hath had of his common wealth.  
Seneca in an epistle he wrote to a friend of his named Lucilla sayeth. My dear friend Lucilla, I would gladly thou wouldst come & see me here in Rome: but I pray thee recommend to good judges the isle of Scicile. For I would not desire to enjoy thy sight, if through my occasion that shouldest leave the common wealth out of order. And to the intent thou mayest know what conditions they ought to have, whom thou shouldest choose for governors or judges: I will let thee understand, that they ought to be grave in their sentences, just in their words, honest in their works, merciful in their justice, and above all, not corrupted with bribes. And if I do advertise thee of this, it is because if thou didst take care to govern thy common wealth well, thou shouldest now be circumspect to examine them, to whom presently thou must recommend the government thereof. I would say afterwards, that all that which the ancient Philosophers have written in many books, and have left by divers sentences, Seneca did rehearse in these few words: the which are so grave, and necessary, that if Princes retained them in their memory to put them in execution, and judges had them before their eyes for to accomplish them, they would excuse the common wealth of divers slanders, and they should also deliver themselves from a great burden of their conscience.  
It is not a thing voluntary, butt necessary, that the ministers of justice be virtuous, well established, and very honest: For to judges nothing can be more slanderous, and hurtful, then when they should reprove young men of their youth, others may justly reprehend them of their lightness. He which hath a public office in the common wealth, and sitteth openly to judge therein, ought to observe a good order in his person, lest he be noted dysolute in his doing: For the judge which is without honesty, and consideration, ought to consider with himself, that if he alone have authority to judge of other men's goods, that there are a thousand which will judge of his life. It is not only a burden of conscience, to Princes to commit the charge of governance of the people to dissolute persons: but also it is a great contempt, and dispraise of justice. For the sentence geeven of him who deserveth to be judged, is among the people little esteemed. plutarch in his Apothegms sayeth, that Phillyppe king of Macedony, father of the great Alexander, created for judge of a province a friend of his, who after he saw himself in such office, occupied himself more in kemming his head, then in working or studying his books. King philip being informed of the vanity and insolency of this judge, revoked the power which he had geeven him, and when he complained to all of the wrong and grief which was done unto him, taking his office from him, King Phyllippe said unto him. If I had given the office to thee, for none other cause but being my friend, believe me that nothing in the world could have sufficed to have taken it from thee: because I loving thee so entirely as I did, reason would not I should have deprived thee of this office, wherewith I honoured thee. I gave thee this office, thinking that thou wert virtuous, sage, honest, and also a man well occupied, and me thinketh thou rather occupyest thyself in beeholding thy person, then in governing well my common wealth: which thou oughtest not to consent unto, and much less do in deed. For the judge ought to be so occupied, in the administration of the common wealth: that he should have no leisure at any time to keame his head. These words the good king Philip spoke unto the judge, whom he displaced of his office, for being to fine and diligent in keaming his head, and trimming his person. It is not only decent for ministers of justice, to be grave, and honest: but also it behooveth them to be true, and faithful. For to a judge whose office is to judge the truth, there can be no greater infamy: then to be counted a liar. When two Plebeians be at variance togethers for one thing, they come before the judge for nought else, but that he should judge who hath right and justice thereunto. Therefore if such a judge be not counted true, but a liar, all take his judgement for false: so that if the plaintiff hath no more power, he will obey justice, yet at the least he will blaspheme him that gave sentence. There are some judges, that presently to get more money, to draw unto them more friends, and to continue also in their offices, use such shameful shifts with the poor plainetifes, and take so large bribes of the defendant: that both parties are by himself assured of the sentence in their favour, before he come unto the bar. Many go to the houses of judges, some to demand, others to give instructions, other to work deceit, others to importune them, others to win them, but few go to visit them: so that for those & such semblables, I do advise, and admonish officers, that they be just in their sentences, and upright in their words.  
The ministers of justice ought to be such, and so good, that in their life nothing be worthy of rebuke: neither in their words, any thing worthy of reproach. For if herein they be not very circumspect, oftentimes that shall happen which the gods would not, which is that to the prejudice of the justice of another, he shall deny the word of himself. It suffysethe not judges to be true in their words: butt it is very necessary that they be upright in their sentences. That is to weet, that for love they be not to large, neither for covetousness they should be corrupted, nor for fear drawn back, nor with prayers to be flattered, nor with promises blinded: for otherwise, it were a great shame and inconvenience, that the yard which they carry in their hands should be straight, and the life which they lead should be very crooked. To the end justices be upright, they ought much to travail to be liberal: I mean in things wherein they ought to give sentence. It is unpossible that those which have respect in their sentence to favour their friends, should not accustomably use to be revenged of their enemies. truly such a judge ought not to be counted just: but a private tyrant. He that with affection iudgethe, and passion punisheth is greatly deceived. Those inlyke manner which have authority to govern, and do think that for borrowing a little of justice they should thereby increase, and multiply friends in the common wealth, are much abused: for this act before men is so heinous, and before god so detestable, that though for a space he refrain his hands, yet in the end he will extend his power. For the redeemer of the world, only father of truth, will not permit that such do take upon them the title of justice which in their offices do show so extreme wrong. Helius Spartianus in the life of Antonius sayeth, that the good Emperor going to visit his Empire (as he was in Capua and there demanding of the state of the censors, whether they were unjust or rightful, a man of Capua said in this wise: by the immortal gods, most noble Prince, I swear, that this judge who presently governeth here, is neither just, nor honest and therefore me think it necessary that we deprive him of his dignity and I will account unto thee, what befell between him and me. I besought him that for my sake he would grant me .4. things, which were all unjust, & he willingly condescended thereunto: whereof I had no less marvel in my heart, than vexation in my body. For when I did desire him, I thought nothing less than to obtain than but only for the contentation of those which instantly desired me to do it. And further this Capuan said. By the GOD Genius, I swear likewise, that I was not the more fryndely unto him, for that he said he did it for mye sake, more than for another: for he that to me would grant these four, it is to be believed that to others he would grant four hundredth. For the which thou oughtest to provide, most noble Prince, because good judges ought to be patient to hear, & just to determine. By this notable example, judges ought to have a great respect, not to those which do desire them: but to that which they demand. For in doing their duty, their enemies will proclaim them just: and contrariwise if they do that they should not do, their nearest friends will count them tyrants. judges which pretend favour to the common wealth, & to be careful of their consciences, ought not to content themselves simply to do justice: but that of themselves they should have such an opinion, that none durst presume to come and require at their hands, any vile or dishonest thing. For otherwise, if we note the demander to be unshamefast: we must needs somewhat suspect the judge in his justice. Prince's ought also to be very circumspect, that the judges be not only contented to be just, honest, and true: but also in them there ought to remain no avarice, nor covetousness. For justice, & avarice, can seldom dwell in one house. Those that have the charge of the government of the people, & to judge causes, aught to take great heed, that with bribes and presents they be not corrupted: for it is unpossible but that the same day, that riches & treasures in the houses of judges begin to increase, that the self same day the administration of justice, should not decay. Lycurgus, Prometheus, & Numa Pompilius did prohibit nothing in their law so much, neither for any other cause they ordained so grievous punishments: but to th'intent judges should not be covetous, nor yet thieves. And of truth they had great consideration, to foresee & forbid it: for the judge that hath received part of the theft, will not give sentence against the stealers thereof. Let not judges be credited for saying they receive no silver, nor gold, neither silks, nor jewels, but that they take only small presents, as fruits, foul, and other trifles.  
For oftentimes it chanceth, that the judges do eat the fruit, and the poor suitor doth feel the morsel. Cicero in the book of laws sayeth that Cato the Censor being very aged, the Senator said unto him one day in the Senate. Thou knowest now Cato, that presently we are in the kalends of januarie, wherein we use to divide the offices among the people. Wherefore we have determined to create Manlius, & Calidanus censors for this year: wherefore tell us if they be (as thou thinkest) able and sufficient to supply that room. Cato the Censor answered them in this wise. Father's conscript, I let you were that I do not receive the one, nor admit the other. For Manlius is very rich, and Calidanus the citizeine extreme poor, and truly in both there is great peril. For we see by experience that the rich officers are to much subject to pleasures: and the poor officers are to much given to avarice. And further he said in this case, me thinketh that your judges whom ye ought to choose, should not be so extreme poor, that they should want wherewith to eat: neither so rich, that they should surmount in superfluity, to give themselves to much to pleasures. For men by great abundance, become vicious: and by great scarcity become covetous. The Censor Cato being of such authority, it is but reason that we give credit to his words, since he governed the roman Empire so long space, though indeed all the poor be not covetous, nor all the rich vicious: yet he spoke it for shies intent, because both those Romans were noted of these two. vices. For the poor desire to scrape and scratch: and the rich to enjoy and keep. Which of those two sorts of men princes should choose. I cannot, nor dare not rashly determine. And therefore I do not counsel them, either to despise the poor or to choose the rich: but that they give the authority of justice to those, whom they know to be of good conscience, and not subject to covetousness. For the judge whose conscience is corrupted, it is unpossible he should minister equal justice. A man may give a shrewd guess of suspicion in that judge, whether he be of a britell conscience, or no if he see him procure the office of justice for himself. For that man which willingly procureth the charge of conscience of another: commonly little regardeth the burden of his own.   

¶ Of a letter which th'emperor Marcus Aurelius wrote to Antigonus his friend, answering an other which he sent him out of Scicile, wherein he advertised him of the cruelty of the roman judges. and this letter is divided into .5. Chapters Cap. seven.  
MArcus Aurelius, companion in the empire, tribune of the people, present lie being sick, wisheth unto thee Antigonus, health and comfort in thy banishment. To fly the extreme heat of Rome, and to read some books which are brought me, from the realm of Palestine, I am come hither to Capua: and forth haste I made to ride great journeys, the ague hath overtaken me, which is more troublesome, then perilous. For it taketh me with cold, and plucketh my appetite from me. The .20. day of january I received thy second letter, and it happened that thy letter and my fever took me both at one instant: but the fever grieved me in such wise, that I could not long endure to read thy letter. Me thinketh we have no stay nor mean, thou being so brief, and I so long: for my long letter hath taken thy grievous sorrows from thee, but thy short letter could not take my fever from me. Now that my mind is beating of thy travail, the desire which I have to remedy it is inflamed. I would tell the one thing, and secure thee with some counsel: but I find that the consolation which thou wantest, I cannot give thee, and that which I can give thee, thou needest not. In this letter shall not be written that which was in the first: but herein I will travail the best I can to answer thee. I will not occupy myself to comfort thee, because I am so out of course with this disease, that I have neither will to write, ne yet an● favour in any pleasant things. If perhaps this letter be not savoury, so compendious, neither so comfortable as those which I was woase to write unto thee: attribute not the blame unto my good will, which desireth to serve thee, but to the sickness that giveth no place thereunto. For it sufficeth the sick to be contented with medicines, without satisfying their friends. If thy comfort consisted in writing many letters, & offering the many word: truly I would not stick to do that for all my fever. But it neither profiteth thee, nor satisfieth me, since I have little, to proffer the much. Talking now of this matter, I do remember that the ancient laws of the Rhodians said these words. We desire & admonish all men, to visit the captives, the pilgrims, and the comfortless: and further, we ordain & command, that none in the common wealth be so hardy to give counsel, unless therewith he give remedy. For to the troubled heart words comforteth little, when in them there is no remedy. Of a truth the law of the Rhodians is good, & the Roman which shall observe them much better. Assure thyself that I am very desirous to see thee: & also I know that thou wouldst as gladly speak unto me, to recount me all thy griefs. truly I do not marvel, because the wounded heart quieteth himself more, declaring his own griefs, then hearing another man's consolations. Thou writest unto me of sundry things in thy letter, the effect whereof, that thou certifiest me, is that the judges and officers in that realm be very rigorous, and extreme: and that therefore the Sicilians are greatly displeased with the Senate.  
Hitherto thou hast never told me lie, the which moveth me to believe all that thou writest now in thy letter. Wherefore I take it for a thing most true: that for as much as all those of Sicily are malicious and envious, they give the judges just occasion to be cruel. For it is a general rule, where men are out of order, the ministers of justice ought to be rigorous. And though in other realms it chanced not, it is to be believed that it is true in this realm: where of the ancient proverb saith. All those which inhabit the Isles are evil: but the Cicillians are worst of all. At this day the wicked are so mighty in their malices, and the good are so much diminished in their virtues: that if by justice there were not a bridal, the wicked would surmount all the world, and the good should vanish immediately.  
But returning to our matter I say, that considering with what and how many evils we are enuiroined, and to how many miseries we are subject: I do not marvel at the vanities that men commit, but I am ashamed of the cruelty which our judges execute. So that we may rather call them tyrants, which kill by violence: then judges which minister by justice. Of one thing I was greatly astonied, and almost past my sense, which is, that justice of right pertaineth to the gods, and they being offended will be called pitiful: & we others borrow justice, and not being offended, do glorify ourselves to be called cruel. I know not what man will hurt an other, since we see that the gods forgiving their proper injuries, have attained the renown of merciful, and we others punishing the injuries done unto an other, do remain with the name of tyrants. If the punishment of the gods were so severe, as our sins are filthy, & that they should measure us with this measure: the only desert of one offence is sufficient to take life from us.  
With reason he cannot be called a man amongst men, but a savage amongst the savages: that forgetting to be of feeble flesh, tormenteth the flesh of his brother. If a man behold himself from top to toe, he shall find not one thing in him to move him to cruelty: but he shall see in him many instruments to exercise mercy. For he hath his eyes, wherewith he ought to behold the needy and indigent: he hath feet to go to the church and sermons: he hath hands to help all: he hath his tongue to favour the Orphan: he hath a heart to love god: and to conclude, he hath understanding to know the evil: and discretion to follow the good. If men own much to the gods, for giving them these instruments to be pitiful: truly they are bound no less unto them, for taking from them all occasions to be cruel. For he hath not given them horns, as to bulls, neither nails as to the cat, nor yet he hath given them poison, as to the serpent: finally, he hath not geeven them so perilous feet, as to a horse to strike, nor he hath geeven them such bloody teeth, as to the Lion to bite. Then sith the gods be pitiful, and have created us pitiful, and commanded us to be pitiful: why do our judges desire then to be cruel. O how many cruel and severe judges are there at this day in the Roman empire, which under the colour of good zeal to justice, adventure to undo the common wealth. For not for the zeal of justice, but for the desire to attain to renown: they have been overcome with malice, and denied their own proper nature. I do not marvel that a Roman censor should envy my house, will evil to my friends, favour mine enemies, despise my children, with evil eyes behold my daughters, covet my goods, speak evil of my parson: But that which I am ashamed of is, that divers judges are so greedy to tear men's flesh, as if they were bears, and man's flesh were nointed with honey.   

¶ The Emperor continueth still his letter speaking against cruel judges, and reciteth two examples the one of a pitiful king of Cyprus, & the other of a cruel judge of Rome. Cap. viii.  
BY the faith of a good man I swear unto thee friend Antigonus, that I being young, knew a judge in Rome whose name was Lycaronicus a man of high stature, his flesh neither to fat, nor to lean, his eyes were some what bloody and red, he was of the lineage of the Senators, and on his face he had but a little beard, and on his head he had many white hears. This Licaronicus of long time was judge in Rome, in the roman laws he was well learned, and in customs and policies very expert, of his own nature he spoke little, and in the answers he gave, he was very resolute. Amongst all those which were in Rome in his time, he had this excellency, which was, that to all he ministered equal justice: and to suitors with great speed he gave brief expedition, and dispatched them immediately. They could never withdraw him by requests, never corrupt him with gifts, nor beguile him with words, nor fear him with threatenings, neither would he receive a bribe of any that did offer it him: And besides this, he was very severe in condition, churlish in words, unflectible in requests, cruel in punishments, suspicious in affairs, and above all, he was hated of many, and feared of all. How much this Lycaronicus was hated it cannot be reported, and of how many he was feared, no man can think. For in Rome when any man was injuried he said: I pray god that Licaronicus may live long. When the children did cry, the mothers immediately said unto them. Take heed of Lycaronicus, and straight way they held their peace: so that with the only name of Lycaronicus men were astonished, and children kept silence. Thou oughtest also to know Antigonus, that when any commotyon did arise in a city, or in any other province, or that any slander rose and increased therein, they were well assured, and they said that no other should go thither, but only Lycaronicus. And to say the truth, when he was arrived at that city or province, the rebels were not only fled: but also divers innocentes were for fear of his cruelty hid. For Lycaronicus was so resolute a parson, that some for ill facts, others for consenting, some for that they favoured not the good right, others for that they kept them secret: none escaped to be tormented of his parson, or punished in goods. Thinkest thou Antigonus that they have been few whom this judge hath caused to be whipped and carted, cast into wells, beheaded, taken, banished, and put in the stocks, during the time that the Romans had him with them? By the immortal gods I swear unto thee, and as Genius the god of nature may help me, that the gallows and gibbets were so furnished with feet, hands, and heads of men, as the shambles were with oxen, sheep, and kids. This Lycaronicus was so fleshly to shed human blood, that he was never so conversant nor had so merry a countenance: as the same day he should cause any man to be drowned in Tiber, hanged in mount Celio, be headed in the street Salario, tormented or cast into the prison Marmortina: O cruel, o fierce, and unspeakable condition that this judge Lycaronicus had. For it was not possible that he should be brought up between the delicate arms of the Romans: but in the vile entrails of you venomous serpents. I return once more to say, that it is unpossible he should be nourished with the delicate milk of women: but with the cruel blood of Tigers. If this Licaronicus were cruel, why did they give him such authority? I curse such authority. If he did it for that he had great zeal to justice: I curse such zeal of justice. If he did it to win more honour, I curse that honour: for that man shallbe cursed of the gods and hated of men, which taketh life from others, though it be by justice, only to increase his renown.  
The gods are much offended and the people greatly damaged, where the Senate of Rome calleth that judge gentle which is corrupted: and him that is cruel just, So that now amongst the Roman people, those which heal with oil are not credited: but those only which cure with fire. If any man think it, at the least I do not think it, that when Licaronicus died, all the cruel judges did end with him: For through all the Roman Empire there was no more but one Licaronicus, and at this present there is above iii or four in every common wealth.  
Notwithout tears I speak that which I will speak, which is, that in those days as all the judges that ministered were pitiful: so was this Lycaronicus renowned for cruel. But now since all are cruel, we hope in a judge which is pitiful. In the xii year of the foundation of our mother Rome, the first king thereof was Romulus, who sent a commandment to all the neighbours and inhabitants there abouts, to the end that all banished men, all those which were afflicted, all those which were persecuted, & all those which were in necessity should come to Rome, for they should be defended from their enemies, and succoured in their necessities. The fame being spread throughout Italy, of the pity and clemency which Romulus showed in Rome (if the Anualles of the ancients do not deceive us) Rome was more peopled with inhabitants in ten years, than Babylon or Carthage, in a hundred. O noble heart of Romulus, which such things invented: blessed be that tongue, which commanded that the famous Rome with clemency and pity should be founded. In the original books which were in the high capitol once I found divers letters written, to the sacred senate and roman people, and in the beginning of the letters the words said thus. We the king of Parthes' in Asya, to the father's conscript of Rome, and to the happy roman people of Italy, and to all those which with the Roman senate are confederate, which have the name of Romans, and the renown of clemency, health and tranquillity to your persons we do send you, and desire the same of the gods for ourselves. Behold therefore Antigonus, what titles of clemency had our first Romans, and what example of clemency did the Emperor leave for them to come: so that since the barbarous strangers called them pitiful: it is not to be believed, that to their subjects or natural country men they were cruel. As the ancients have travailed of all to be beloved, so they at this present through their cruelties, seek nothing but to be feared. If the gods perhaps should revive the dead, and should compare the living before them in judgement: I suppose they would say these are not their children, but their enemies, not encresers of the common wealth, but destroyers of the people.  
I being xxxvii. years of age, lay in winter season in an isle called Chetyn, which now is called Cypress, wherein is a little mountain as yet full of wood, which is called mount of Archady, where groweth an herb called Ilabia, which the ancients say, that if it be cut it droppeth blood: and the nature of it is, that if one rub any man with the blood thereof hot (although he would not) yet he shall love him, and if they anoint him with the blood that is cold, he shall hate him.  
Of this herb we need not doubt any thing at all, for I did prove it, and nointed one with that blood, who sooner lost his life then the love which he bore me. There was a king in that I'll of great example of life, and greatly renowned of clemency, though indeed neither by writing nor by words I could never know his name: but that he was buried under four pillars in a tomb of marble, and about the tomb were engraved these greek and ancient letters, where amongst other things these words were engraven.  

THe mighty gods whiles they drew out the length  
Of my weak years to pass the flood of life  
This rule I had my common wealth to strength  
To nourish peace and stint vain blasts of strife   

¶ By virtues way if ought I could obtain  
by vices path I never sought to get  
by dreadless peace if I could right attain  
by clatering arms blind hazard could not let   

¶ By curteis means if I could overcome  
By raging threats I heaped up no dread  
By secret shifts if I might guide my doom  
by open force I nowlde the pain were spread.   

¶ By gentle read if I could chastise eke  
by sharp ways no further proof I sought  
In out ward sight I never thought to streeke  
before I had to covert cheeks them brought   

¶ My free consent could never vainly bear  
my tongue to tell one sweet entysinglye  
Nor yet my hollow ears would ever hear  
Their crooked tales that flatter oft awry.   

¶ My schooled heart was always taught to stay  
From eager lust of others heaped good  
I forced myself his proper wealth to way  
And stand content as fortune's judgement stood.   

¶ My friends decay, I always watch to aid●  
And recked not for bent of envies bow  
In huge expense I never lavish paid  
my glittering gold, nor spared yet to low,   

¶ For grievous faults I never punished wight  
with mind appeased but erst I would forgive  
my grief did grow when just revenge did high●  
And eke I joyed to pardon men to live.   

¶ A mortal man amongst blind heaps of men,  
Nature my mother produced me here  
And therefore loo enclosed in this den  
The eager worms my senseless carcase tere   

¶ Amongst the wights that virtue did enhance  
A virtuous life, I freely passed on  
And since that death his kingdom did advance  
my heavenly spirit, to haunt the gods is gone.   
HOw thinkest thou Antigonus, what epitaph was this, and what prince ought he to be, of whom I should say, his life ought to be glorious, and his memory eternal? I swear unto thee, by the law of a good man, and as the gods may prosper me, I took not so much pleasure in Pompey with his Jerusalem, in Semiramis with her India, in king Cirus with his Babylon, in Caius Cesar with his Gauls, in Scippio with his Africa: as I have in the king of Cypress in his grave. For more glory hath that king there in that sharp mountain being dead: then others have had in proud Rome being alive.   

¶ Marcus Aurelius continueth his letter against cruel judges. Of the words which th'emperor Nero spoke concerning justice, and of the instruction th'emperor Augustus gave to a judge which he sent into Dacya. Cap. ix.  
Neither for that which I writ in this letter, nor yet for that which king Cirus had in his grave: my entention is not to defend the evil, to the end that for their evil deeds, and outrageousness, they should not be punished. For by this means, it should be worse for me to favour them: then for them to be evil. For they through debility do offend: and I by malice do err. But in this case it seemeth unto me, and to all others which are of good judgement, that since frailty in men is natural, and the punishment which they give is voluntary: Let judges therefore in ministering justice show, that they do it for the zeal of the common wealth, and not with a mind to revenge. To the end the faulty may have occasion to amend the faults past, and not to revenge injuries present, the divine Plato in the books of his common wealth said, that judges ought to have two things always present before their eyes, that is to weet, that in judging things touching the goods of others, they show no covetousness: and in punishing any man, they show no revenge. For judges have licence to chastise the body: but therefore they have not licence to hurt their hearts. Nero the emperor was greatly defamed in his life, and very cruel in his justice, and with all his cruelties i● chanced, that as one on a day brought him a judgement for to subscribe, to behead certain murderers: He fetching a great sigh said these words, O how happy were I that I had never learned to write, only to be excused to subscribe this sentence. Certainly the Emperor Nero, for speaking such a pitiful word at that time, deserved immortal memory: but afterwards his so cruel life, perverted so notable a sentence.  
For speaking the cruche, one evil work sufficeth to deface many good words. O how many realms and countries have been lost, not so much for the evils which in those the wicked have committed: as for the disordinate justices which the ministers of justice therein have executed.  
For they thinking by rigour to correct the dommages past, have raised up present slander for ever. It is known to all men, who and what the emperor Augustus hath been, who in all his doings was exceeding good: For he was noble, valiant, stout, fierce, and a lover of justice, and above all very pitiefull. And for so much as in other things he showed his pity and clemency, he ordained, that no prince should subscribe judgements of death with his own hand, neither that he should see ivystce done of any with his own eyes. truly the law was pitifully ordained, and for the cleanness and pureness of Emperors very necessary.  
For it seemeth better for Princes to defend their land with the sharp sword: then to subscribe a sentence of death, with the cruel pen. This good Emperor Augustus was very diligent to choose ministers of justice, and very careful to teach them how they should behave themselves in the common wealth: admonishing them not only of that they had to do, but also of that they ought to fly. For the ministers of justice, oftentimes sail of their duty. In Capua there was a governor named Escaurus, who was a just judge, though he were somewhat severe: whom the Emperor Augustus sent to the realm of Dace to take charge of that province. And amongst divers other things he spoke these words unto him to retain them in his memory. Friend Escaurus, I have determined to pluck thee from Capua, and to put into thy custody the government of the province of Dace, where thou shalt represent the royal majesty of my person, and thou oughtest also to consider well, that as I make thee better in honour and goods: so thou in like case shouldest make thyself better in life, and more temperate in justice. For hitherto in justice thou hast been a little to rigorous: and in thy life somewhat to rash. I counsel thee therefore, I do desire thee, and further I command thee, that thou change thy trade of life, and have great respect to my honour, and good name.  
For thou knowest right well, that the only profit and honour of the common wealth of Roman Princes, consisteth in having good or evil ministers of their justice. If thou wilt do that I would thou shouldest, I let the understand, that I do not commit my honour in thy trust, neither my justice, to th'intent thou shouldest be an enuyer of the innocent, & a scourge of transgressors: but that only with the one hand thou help to sustanie the good, and with the other thou help to amend the evil.  
And if thou wilt more particularly know my entention, I do send thee, to the end thou shouldest be grandfather to the Orphans, an advocate for the widows, a plaster for the grieved, a staff for the blind, and a father to all. Let therefore the resolution of all be, to rejoice mine enemies, to comfort my friends, to lift up the week, & to favour the strong: so that thou be indifferent to all, & partial to none, to the end that through thy upright dealing, mine may rejoice to dwell there, & strangers desire to come & serve me here. This was the instruction which the emperor Augustus gave to the governor Escaurus. And if a man will consider & way his words well, he shall sinned them compendious enough, that I would they were written in our judges hearts. By thy letter thou declarest that the judges whom the Senate sent to that I'll, are not very honest, nor yet without some suspicion of covetousness. O woeful common wealth, where the judges therofare cruel, dishonest, & covetous: forth cruel judges seek nought else but the blood of innocentes, they covet the goods of the poor, & they slander the good, to such & so wicked a common wealth, I would say that it were better to remain in the mountains among the brute beasts: then by such unjust judges to be governed in a common wealth. For the fierce Lions (which of all beasts are most cruel) if in his presence the hunter prostrate himself on the earth before him, the Lion will neither touch him nor his garment. O my friend Antigonus, dost thou think that if the common wealth be unhappy which hath such judges, that therefore Rome may rejoice which provided them? By the faith of a good man, I swear unto thee, that I count the Senators worse which sent them: than the judges which went thither. It is a great grief to a noble & stout heart to demand justice of a man, which neither is true, nor yet observeth justice: but it is a greater grief to see a judge, that to many hath executed tyranny, & to many poor men hath done sundry wrongs, afterwards not with the life he leadeth, but with the authority he hath, presumeth to correct divers judges. He that hath the office to punish the vicious, ought himself to be void of all vices: otherwise, he that hath that office, by tyranny executeth justice, & furthermore he is a traitor to the common wealth. It is unpossible that any judge should be good, unless he hath the authority of his office for accessary, and his pure life for principal. The end why a judge is sent in provinces, is to define doubtful causes, to reform their manners, to favour those which can little, & by violence to enforce those which can do much. And for the most part there is no common wealth so weak, but may well hang a thief on the gallows, though there came no judge from Rome to give sentence. O how many judges are there now a days in Rome, which have caused divers to be hanged, regarding nothing but the first thief: & they remain free, having rob all the people. Which ought to think themselves assured, that though punishment be deferred, yet in the end the fault shall not be pardoned. For the offences which men in their life time do dissemble, the gods after their death do punish. It is much good for the common wealth, and no less honour for the prince, which hath the charge thereof, that the judge be honest of parson, and diligent in justice, and that in no vice (for the which he punisheth other) he be either noted or defamed himself. For much is the office of justice perverted, when one thief hangeth another on the galouse.   

¶ The Emperor followeth his purpose in his letter against cruel 〈…〉 declareth a notable embassage which came from Iud●a to the 〈…〉 to complain of the judges that governed that Realm. Cap. x.  
IN the third year after Pompeius took the cu●e of delia, which now is called Jerusalem: Valerius Gracchus a Roman borne, was ●ente at that time into that region for the Romans. This Gracchus was very stout of courage, subtile in affairs, and honest in life: but notwithstanding all this, in conversation he was unbridled, and in the administration of justice exceeding rigorous. When the jews saw themselves not only subject to the Romans, but besides that evil handled: they determined to send their ambassador to Rome, to th'intent to inform the Senate of the tyrannies and oppressions which were committed in the land. And for to accomplish the same, they sent a very aged man (as by the hears of his head did well appear) who was learned in the Hebrew greek and latin letters. For the hebrews are very apt to all sciences, but in weapons great towards. This Hebrew came to Rome, and spoke to the Senate in this wise. O father's conscript, O happy people, your good fortune and fatal destinies permitting it, or to say better, We forsaking our God, jerusalem, which of all the cities of Asia was lady and master, and of all the hebrews in Palestine mother, we see it now presently servant and tributary to Rome: whereof we jews ought not to marvel, neither ye Romans' to be proud. For the highest trees by behement winds are soon blown down.  
Great were the armies which. Pompeius had; whereby we were vanquished: but greater hath our offences been, since by them we do deserve to be forsaken of our God. For we Hebrews have a God which doth not put us under the good or evil fortune: but doth govern us with his mercy and justice. I will that ye hear one thing by month, but I had rather ye should see it by experience, which is: that we have so merciful a God, that though amongst 50. thousand evil, there was of us but .10. thousand good: yet he showed such tokens of mercy, that both the Egyptians and the Romans might have seen how our god can do more alone, than all your gods together. We hebrews (agreeing in one faith and unity) have one only God, and in one God only we put our trust and belief, and him we desire to serve, though we do not serve him, neither should serve him, on such condition to offend him. He is so merciful, that he would not let us prove what his merciful hand can do, neither would he put our woeful people in captivity as he hath, nor also our God can deceive us, neither our writings cannot lie.  
But the greater offenders we be, the greater lords shall ye be over us. And as long as the wrath of God shall hang over us, so long shall the power of ye Romans endure. For our unhappy realm hath not geeven ye our realm for your deserts: nor yet for that you were rightful heirs thereunto, but to the end ye should be the scourge of our offences. After the will of our God shallbe fulfilled, after that he hath appeysed his wrath and indignation against us, and that we shallbe purged of our offences, and that he shall behold us with the eyes of his clemency: then we others shall recover that which we have lost, and you others shall lose that which you have evil won. And it may so chance, that as presently of ye romans we are commanded: so the time shall come, that of ye others we shallbe obeyed. And for asmuch as in this case the hebrews feel one, and ye Romans feel an other: neither ye can cause me to worship many gods and much less should I be sufficient to draw ye to the faith of one only God. I refer all to God, the creator of all things, by whose might we are created and governed.  
Therefore touching the matter of my embassage, know ye now, that in all times passed until this present, Rome hath had peace with judea and judea hath had friendship with Rome: so that we did favour ye in the wars and ye others preserved us in peace. In generally nothing is more desired than peace, and nothing more hated than war. And further all this presupposed, we see it with our eyes, and also do read of our predecessors: that the world hath been always in contention, and rest hath always been banished. For in deed if we see many sigh for peace: we see many more employ themselves to war. If ye other would banish those from you, which do move you to bear us evil will, and we others knew those which provoke us to rebel, neither Room should be so cruel to judea, nor yet judea should so much hate Rome. The greatest token and sign of peace, is to dispatch out of the way the distourbers thereof. For friendship oftentimes is lost, not so much for the interest of the one or of the other, as for the undiscretenes of the mediators. When one common wealth striveth against another, it is unpossible that their controversies endure long, if those which come between them (as indifferent mediators) be wise. But if such one which taketh upon him those affairs, be more earnestly bend then the enemy wherewith the other fighteth: we will say, that he more subtylye casteth wood on the fire, than he draweth water to quench the hear.  
All that which I say (Romans) is because that since the banishment of Archelaus from judea (son of the great king Herode) in his place ye sent us Pomponius, Mareus Rufus, and Valerius to be our judges: who have been four plagues, the least whereof sufficeth to poison all Rome.  
What greater calamity could happen to our poor realm of Palestine, than judges to be sent from Rome to take evil customs from the evil: and they themselves to be inventors of new vices? What greater inconvenience can chance to justice, then when the judges which ought to punish the lightness of youth, do glorify themselves to be captains of the light in their age? What greater infamy can be to Rome, then when those which ought to be just in all justice, and to give example of all virtues: be evil in all evils, and inventors of all vices? Wherein appeareth your little care and much tyranny.  
For all said openly in Asia, that the thieves of Rome do hang the thieves of jewrye. What will ye I shall say more (Romans) but that we little esteem the thieves which keep the woods, in comparison of the judges which rob us in our own houses.  
O how woeful were our fatal destinies, the day that we became subject to the Romans. We fear no thieves which should rob us in the high way, we fear no fire which should burn our goods, nor we fear no tyrants, which should make war against us, neither any Assyrians which should spoil our country: we fear not the corrupt air that should infect us, neither the plague that should take our lives from us: but we fear your cruel judges, which oppesse vs in the common wealth, and robbeth us of our good name. I say not without a cause they trouble the common wealth. For that laid a part which they say, that laid a part which they mean, and that laid apart which they rob, immediately they writ to the Senate to consent unto them, not of the good which they find in the ancients: but of the lightness which they see in the young. And as the senators do hear them here, and do not see them there: so ye give more credit to one that hath been but three months in the province, then to those which have governed the common wealth .30. years.  
Consider senators, that ye have been made and appointed Senators in this place, for that ye were the wisest, the honestest, the best experimented, and the most moderate and virtuous.  
Therefore in this above all shallbe seen if ye be virtuous, in that you do not believe all. For if those be many and of divers nations which have to do with you: much more divers and variable are their intentions, and ends, for the which they entreat. I lie if your judges have not done so many wrongs in justice, & forsaken their discipline: that they have taught the youth of judea inventions of vices, which neither hath been heard of our fathers, neither read in our books, ne yet seen in our tyme. Ye others Romans, since ye are noble and mighty, ye disdain to take counsel of men that be poor: the which ye ought not to do, neither counsel your friends to do it. For to know, and to have little seldom times goeth together. As many counsels as judea hath taken of Rome: so many let now Rome take of judea. You ought to know, though your Captains have won many realms by shedding blood, yet notwithstanding your judges ought to keep them, not with rigorous shedding of blood, but with clemency and winning their hearts.  
O Romans, admonish, command, pray, and advertise your judges whom ye send to govern strange provinces: that they employ themselves more to the common wealth of the realm, then their hands to number their fines and forfettes.  
For otherwise they shall slander those which send them: and shall hurt those whom they govern. your judges in just things are not obeyed for any other cause, but forasmuch as first they have commanded many unjust things. The just commandments make the humble hearts, and the unjust commandments do turn and convert the meek and humble men, to severe and cruel persons. Human malice is so geeven to command, and is so troublesome to be commanded, that though they command us to do good, we do obey evil: the more they commmaund us evil, the worse they be obeyed in the good.  
Believe me (Romans) one thing, and doubt nothing therein, that of the great lightness of the judges, is sprung the little fear and great shame of the people. Each Prince which shall give to any judge the charge of justice, whom he knoweth not to be able, doth it not so much for that he knoweth well how to minister justice: but because he is very crafty to augment his goods. Let him be well assured, that when he lest thinketh on it, his honour shallbe in most infamy, his credit lost, his goods diminished, and some notable punishment light upon his house. And because I have other things to speak in secret, I will here conclude that is open, and finally I say, that if ye will preserve us and our realm for the which you have haserded your selves in many periles: keep us in justice, and we will have you in reverence. Command as Romans, and we will obey as hebrews: give a pitiful precedent, and ye shall have all the realm in safeguard.  
What will ye I say more, but that if you be not cruel to punish our weakness, we will be very obedient to your ordinances. Before ye provide for to command us, think it well to entreat us: for by praying with all meekness, and not commanding with presumption, ye shall find in us the love which the fathers are wont to find in their children: and not the treason which the lords have accustomed to find in their servants.   

¶ The Emperor concludeth his letter against the cruel judges, and declareth what the grandfather of king Boco spoke in the Senate. Cap. xi.  
ALl that which above I have spoke, the Hebrew said, and not without great admiration he was heard of all the Senate. O Rome without room, which now haste nought but the walls, and art made a common stews of vices. What didst thou tell me, when a stranger did rebuke and taunt thee, in the midst of thy Senate? it is a general rule, where there is corruption of custom, liberties are always lost, which seemeth most true here in Rome. For the Romans, which in times past went to revenge their injuries into strange countries: now others come out of strange countries, to assault them in their own houses. Therefore since the justice of Rome is condemned, what thinkest thou that I believe of that I'll of Sicily; tell me I pray thee Antigonus, from whence cometh thinkest thou so great offence to the people, and such corruption to justice in the common wealth? If peradventure thou knowest it not, hearken and I will tell the. It is an order whereby all goeth without order. Thou oughtest to know that the counsellors of princes being importunate, and the Prince not resisting them, but suffering them, they deceive him, some with covetousness, other with ignorance, give from whom they ought to take, and take from whom they ought to give, they honour them who do dishonour them, they withhold the just, and deliver the covetous, they despise the wise, and trust the light, finally they provide not for the offices of persons, but for the persons of offices. Hark Antigonus, & I will tell the more. These miserable judges, after they are provided & invested in the authority of their offices (whereof they were unworthy) seeing themselves of power to command, & that the dignity of their offices is much more, than the desert of their persons: immediately they make themselves to be feared, mynystringe extreme justice. Th●y t●ke upon them the estates of great lords, they live of the sweat of the poor, they supply with malice, that which they want in discretion: and that which is worst of all, they mingle another man's justice, with their own proper profit. Therefore here more what I will say unto thee, that these cursed judges, seeing themselves pestered with sundry affairs, and that they want the ears of knowledge, the sails of virtue, and the anchors of experience not knowing how to remedy such small evils: they invent others more greater, they disturb the common peace, only for to augment their own particular profit. And finally they bewail their own damage, and are disposed with the prosperity of an other. Nothing can be more just, that since they have fallen into offices not profitable for them, they do suffer (though they would not) great damages: so that the one for taking gifts remain slandered, and the other forgiving than remaineth undone. hearken yet, & I will tell thee more. Thou oughtest to know, that the beginnings of these judges, are pride & ambition: their means, envy and malice, and their endings are death and destruction. For the leaves shall never be green, where the roots are dry. If my counsel should take place in this case, such judges should not be of counsel with princes, neither yet should they be defended of the private, but as suspect men they should not only be cast from the common wealth: butt also they should suffer death.  
It is a great shame to those which demand offices of the Senate, but greater is the rashness and boldness of the counsellors, which do procure them: and we may say, both to the one, and to the other, that neither the fear of god doth withdraw them, nor the power of Princes doth bridle them, nor shame doth trouble them, neither the common wealth doth accuse them, and finally neither reason commandeth them, nor the law subdueth them. But hark, and I will tell thee more. Thou oughtest always to know, what the form and manner is, that the Senators have to divide the offices: for sometimes they give them to their friends, in recompense of their friendship, and other times they give them to their servants, to acquit their services, and sometime also they give them to solicitors, to the end they shall not importune them, so that few offices remain for the virtuous, the which only for being virtuous are provided. O my friend Antigonus, I let you to wit, that since Rome did keep her renown, and the common wealth was well governed, the diligence which the judges used towards the Senate, to the end they might give them offices: the self same ought the Senate to have to seek virtuous men, to commit such charge into their hands. For the office of justice ought to be given, not to him which procurethe it, but to him that best deserveth it. In the year of the foundation of Rome .6. hundredth 42. years, the Roman people had many wars throughout all the world. To wit Chaius Celius, against those of Thrace, Gneus Cardon his brother against the Sardes, juniꝰ Scylla, against the Cymbres, Minutius Rufus, against the Daces, Scruilius Scipio against the Macedonians, and Marius Consul against jugurtha king of Numidians: and amongst all these, the war of the Numidians was the most renowned, and also perilous. For if Rome had many armies against jugurtha to conquer him jugurtha had in Rome good friends which did favour him King Boco at that time was king of Mauritanes, who was jugurthas' friend, & in the end, he was afterwards the occasion that jugurtha was overthrown, & that Marius took him. These two kings Marius the Consul brought to Rome, & triumphed of them, leading them before his triumphant chariot, their necks laden with irons, & their eyes full of tears. The which unlucky fortune, all the Romans which beheld lamented, & took great pity of the staungers whom they heard. The night after the triumph was ended, it was decreed in the Senate, that jugurtha should be beheaded, leaving king Boco alive, deprived of his country. And the occasion thereof was this. The Romans had a custom of long time, to put no man to execution, before that first with great diligence they had looked the ancient books, to see if any of their predecessors had done any notable service to Rome, whereby the poor prisoner might deserve his pardon.  
It was found written in a book, which was in the high Capitol, that the grandfather of king Boco was very sage, and a special friend to the Roman people, and that once he came to Rome and made divers Orations to the Senate, and amongst other notable sentences, there was found in that book, that he had spoken these words. Woe be to the that realm where all are such, that neither the good amongst the evil, nor the evil amongst the good are known. Woe upon that realm, which is the enterteiner of all fools, and a destroyer of all sages. Woe is that realm where the good are fearful, and the evil to bold. Woe on that realm where the patient are despised, and the seditious commended. Woe on that realm, which distroie the those that watch for the good: and crown the those that watch to do evil. Woe to that realm, where the poor are suffered to be proud: and the rich tyrants. Woe to that realm, where all know the evil: and no man doth follow the good. Woe to that realm, what so many evil vices are openly committed: with in an other country dare not secretly be mentioned. Woe to that realm, where all procure that they desire, where all attain to that they procure, where all think the that is evil, where all speak that they think, & finally, where all may do that which they will. In such, and so unfortunate a realm, where the people are so wicked, let every man beware he be not inhabitant. For in short time, they shall see upon him, either the ire of the gods, the fury of the men, the depopulation of the good, or the desolation of the tyrants. divers other notable things were contained in those orations, the which are not (at this present) touching my letter. But for as much as we thought it was a very just thing, that they should pardon the folly of the nephew, for the deserts of the wise grandfather. Thou shalt read this my letter openly to the Pretours, & judges which are resident there, and the case shallbe, that when thou shalt read it, thou shalt admonish them, that if they will not amend secretly, we will punish them openly. I wrote unto thee the last day, that as touching thy banishment I would be thy friend: and be thou assured, that for to enjoy thy old friendeshyppe, and to perform mye word, I will not let to danger my parson. I writ unto Panutius my secretary, to succour thee with two thousand Sesterses, wherewith thou mayest relieve thy poverty: and from hence I send thee mye letter, wherewith thou mayest comfort thy sorrowful heart. I say no more to thee in this case, but that thorough the gods thou mayest have contentation of all that thou enjoyest, health of thy person and comfort of thy friends: the bodily evils, the cruel enemies, the perilous destinies, be far from me. Mark. In the behalf of thy wife Rufa, I have saluted my wife faustine, she and I both have received with joy thy salutations and with thanks we sent them you again. I desire to see thy person here in italy, and wish my fever quartene there with thee in Scicile.   

¶ An exhortation of the autcour to Princes and noble men, to embrace peace, and to eschew the occasions of war. Cap. xii.  
Octavian Augustus, second Emperor of Rome, is commended of all, for that he was so good of his person, & so well-beloved in all the Roman Empire. Suetonius Tranquillus saith, that when any man died in Rome in his time, they gave great thanks to the gods for that they took their life from them, before their Prince knew what death meant. And not contented only with this, but in their testaments they commanded their heirs, & children, that yearly they should offer great sacrifices of their proper goods in all the temples of Rome, to the end the gods should prolong the days of their prince. That time in deed might be called the golden age, and the blessed land, where the prince loved so well his subjects, and the subjects so much obeyed their prince. For seldom times it happeneth, that one will be content with the services of all: neither that all will be satisfied with the government of one. The Romans for none other cause wished for that good prince (more than for themselves) life but because he kept the common wealth in peace. The virtue of this prince deserved much praise, and the good will of the people merited no less commendation: he for deserving it to them, and they for giving it to him. For to say the truth, there are few in number that so heartily love others, that for their sakes will hate themselves. There is no man so humble, but in things of honour will be content to go before, save only in death, where he can be content to come behind. And this seemeth to be very clear, in that that now dieth the father, now the mother, now the husband, now the wife, now the son, and now his neigheboure, in the end, every man is content with the death of an other, so that he with his own life may escape himself. A prince which is gentle, patient, stout, sober, pure, honest, and true, truly he of right ought to be commended: but above all, and more than all, the prince which keepeth his common wealth in peace, hath great wrong, if he be not of all beloved. What good can the common wealth have, wherein there is war and dissension? Let every man say what he will, wytheoute peace no man can enjoy his own, no man can eat wytheoute fear, no man sleepeth in good rest, no man goeth safe by the way, no man trusteth his neighbour, finally I say, that where there is no peace, there we are threatened daily with death, and every hour in fear of our life. It is good the prince do scour the realm of thieves, for there is nothing more unjust, then that which the poor with toil and labour do get, should with vagabonds in idleness be wasted. It is good the prince do weed the realm of blasphemers, for it is an evident token that those which dare blaspheme the king of heaven, will not let to speak evil of the princes of the earth. It is good the prince do clear the common wealth of vagabonds, and players: for play is so evil a mote, that it eateth the new gown, and consumeth the dry wood. It is good that the prince do forbid his subjects of prodigal banquets, and superfluous apparel: for where men spend much in things superfluous, it chanceth afterwards that they want of their necessaries. But I ask now what availethe it a prince to banish all vices from his common wealth, if otherwise he keepeth it in war? The end why princes are princes, is to follow the good, and to eschew the evil. What shall we say therefore, sins that in the time of war, princes cannot reform vices, nor correct the vicious. O if Princes and noble men knew what damage they do to their country, the day that they take upon them war, I think and also affirm, that they would not only not begin it, nor yet any private person durst scarcely remember it. And he that doth counsel the prince the contrary, ought by reason to be judged to the common wealth an enemy. Those which counsel princes to seek peace, to love peace, to keep peace, without doubt they have wrong if they be not heard, if they be not beloved, and if they be not credited. For the counsellor which for a light occasion counseleth his prince to begin war, I say that unto him either colour surmountethe, or else good conscience wanteth. It chaunsethe oftentimes that the prince is vexed and troubled, because one certyfyethe him that a province is rebelled, or some other prince hath invaded his country and as the matter requireth, the counsel is assembled. There are some to rash counsellors, which immediately judge peace to be broken as lightly, as others do desire that wars should not begin. When a prince in such a case asketh counsel, they ought forthewithe not to answer him suddenly: for things touching the wars, ought with great wisdom first to be considered, and then with as much advisement to be determined. King David never took war in hand, though he wear very wise, but first he counseled with god. The good judas Machabee never entered into battle, but first he made his prayer unto almighty god. The Greeks and Romans durst never make war against their enemies, but first they would do sacrifice to the gods, and consult also with their Oracles. The matters of justice, the recreations of his person, the reward of the good, the punishment of the evil, and the dividing of rewards, a Prince may communicate with any private man: but all matters of war, he ought first to counsel with God. For the prince shall never have perfit victory over his enemies, unless he first commit the quarrel thereof unto god. Those which counsel princes (whither it be in matters of war, or in the affairs of peace) ought always to remember this sentence: that they give him such counsels always when he is whole in his chamber, as they would if they saw him at the point of death very sick. For at that instant, no man dare speak with flattery, nor burden his conscience thorough bribery.  
when they entreat of war, they which move it ought to consider, that if it came not well to pass, all the blame shall be imputed to their counsel. And if that his substance be not presently able to recompense the loss, let him assure himself, that hereafter his soul shall suffer the pain. Men ought so much to love peace, and so much to abhor war, that I believe that the same preparation a priest hath in his conscience with God before he presume to receive the holy communion, the same ought a counsayloure have, before to his Prince he giveth counsel in war. Since Princes are men, it is no marvel though they feel injuries as men, and that they desire to revenge as men. Therefore, for this cause they ought to have wise men of their counsel, whereby they should mitigate and assuage their griefs and troubles. For the counsellors of princes, ought never to counsel things they being angry, wherewith after they may justly be displeased, when they be pacified. Following our matter, in counting the goods which are lost in loasing peace, and the evils which increase in winning wars, I say that amongst other things the greatest evil is, that in time of war they lock up closely all virtues, and set at liberty all vices. During the time that Princes and great Lords maintain war, though they be lords of their realms and dominions by right, yet for a truth they are not so in deed. For at that time the lords desire more to content their soldiers, and subjects: then the soldiers and subjects seek to content the lords. And this they do, because they thorough power might vanquish their enemies, and further through the love of their money, relieve their necessities. Either princes are governed buy that whereunto by sensuality they are moved, or else by that wherewith reason is contented. If they will follow reason, they have to much of that they possess: but if they desire to follow the sensual appetite, there is nothing that will content them. For as it is unpossible to dry up all the water in the sea: so it is hard to satisfy the heart of man that is covetous. If princes, take upon them wars, saying that their ground is taken from them, and that thereof they have a conscience: let them beware that such conscience be not corrupted. Form the world there is no war justified, but for the beginning thereof, the princes at one time or an other, have their conscience burdened. If princes take upon them war for no other cause, but to augment their state and dignity, I say that this is a vain hope: for they consume and lose (for the most part) more in one or two years wars, than ever they get again during their life. If princes take upon them war, to revenge an injury: as well for this also it is a thing superfluous. For many go to the wars being wronged only with one thing, and afterwards they return injuried with many. If princes take upon them war for none other cause but to win honour, me thinketh also that that is an unprofitable conquest. For me thinketh that fortune is not a person so famous, that into her hands a man may commit his honour, his goods, and life. If princes take upon them war to leave of them in the world to come some memory, this no less than the other seemeth to me vain. For without doubt, if we examine the histories that be paste, we shall find those to be more in number, which for beginning of wars have been defamed: then those which for vanquishing of their enemies have been renowned. If princes take upon them war, supposing that there are in an other country more pleasures, and delights, then in their own: I say, that to think this, proceedeth of little experience, and of less conscience. For to a prince there can be no greater shame, nor conscience, then to begin wars in strange realms, to maintain his own pleasure and vices at home. Let no princes deceive themselves, in thinking that there are in strange countries more things, then in their own. For in the end, there is no land nor nation in the world, where there is not winter and summer, night and day, sickness and health, riches and poverty, mirth and sadness, friends and enemies, vicious and virtuous, alive and dead. finally I say, that in all parts all things agree in one, save only the dispositions of men, which are divers. I would ask princes and great lords, the which do and will live at their pleasures, what they want in their realms, yea though they be little? If they will hunt, they have mountains and parks: if they will fish, they have ponds: if they will walk, they have rivers: if they will refresh them selves, they have baynes: if they will be merry, they have musicans: if they delight in apparaylinge themselves, they have cythe clothes: if they will give, they have money: if they desire women, they have wives if they will take their rest, they have their gardens: if winter annoy them, they have hot countries: and if they will eat, they want no meats. He that with peace hath all these things in his own dominion, why then with war doth he seek them in a strange country? men oftentimes fly from one country to another, not to be more devout, nor more virtuous: butt to have greater liberty and opportunity to haunt vices. And afterwards when they see the ends of their deeds, they cannot refrain their hearts from sighs, since they might have enjoyed that at home with peace, which in strange countries they sought with trouble. There are so few things wherewythe we are contented in the world, that if perchance a man find in any one place, any one thing wherewith to content him, let him beware that the devil do not deceive him, saying: that in such another place he may recreate himself better For whither so ever we go, we shall find such penury, and want of true pleasures, and comforts, and such copy and abundance of troubles and torments that for to comfort us in a hundreth years we scarcely find one, and to torment us, we find at every foot a thousand.   

¶ The author recytethe the commodities which come of peace, declaring how divers princes upon light occasions have made cruel wars. Cap. xiii.  
DImo, an ancient king of Ponto, said unto a philosopher which was with him: Tell me philosopher, I have health, I have honour, and I have riches, is there any thing more to be desired amongst men, or to be geeven of the Gods in this life? The philosopher answered him. I see that I never saw, and I hear that I never heard, For health, riches, and honour, the gods seldom times do trust in one person, his time is so short that possess them, that they have more reason to pray that they might be quited of them, then for to be proud for that they possess them. And I tell thee further king Dimo, it little profytethe that the gods have geeven thee all these things, if thou dost not content thy self therewythe, the which I think they have not geeven thee, nor never will give thee. For the gods are so just in dividing their gifts, that to them to whom they give contentation, they take from them riches: and to those whom they give riches, they take their contentation. plutarch in the first of his pollytike putteth this example, and he declareth not the name of this philosopher.  
O how great a benefit is that, which the gods give to princes and great lords, in giving them their health, in geeving them riches, and in giving them honour, but if besides those he giveth them not contentation, I say that in geeving them the goods, he giveth them travail and danger. For if the travail of the poor be greater then the travail of the rich: wytheoute comparison the discontentation of the rich, is greater than the discontentation of the poor. men little regarding their health become sick, little esteeming their riches become poor, and because they know not what honour is, they become dishonoured? I mean, that the rash princes, until such time as they have been well beaten in the wars, will always little regard peace. The day that you princes proclaim wars against your enemies, you set at liberty all vices to your subjects: Yet you say your meaning is not they should be evil. I say it is true. Yet all this joined togethers, ye give them occasion that they be not good. Let us know what thing war is, and then we shall see, whither it be good or evil to follow it. In wars they do nought else but kill men, rob the temples, spoil the people, destroy the innocentes, give liberty to thieves, separate friends, and raise strife: all the which things cannot be done wytheoute great hurt of justice, and scrupulosytie of conscience. The seditious man himself can not denay us, that if two Princes take upon them wars between them, and that both of them seem to have right, yet the one of them only hath reason. So that the prince which shall fight against justice, or defend the unjust cause, shall not escape out of that war justified: Not issuing out justified, he shall remain condemned: and the condemnation shall be, that all the losses, murders, burnings, hangynge, and robberies which were done in the one or other common wealth, shall remain upon the account of him, which took upon him the unjust war. although he doth not find an other prince, that will demand an account of him hear in this life yet he shall have a just judge that will in another place lay it to his charge. The prince which is virtuous, and presumethe to be a christian, before he beeginne the war, ought to consider what loss or profit will ensue thereof. Wherein if the end be not prosperous, he loseth his goods and honour: and if he perchance attain to that he desired, peradventure his desire was to the damage of the common wealth, and then he ought not to desire it. For the desire of one, should not hurt the profit of all. When GOD our lord did create princes for princes, and people accepted them for their lords, it is to believe that the gods never commanded such things, nor the men would ever have excepted such, if they had thought the princes would not have done that they were bound, but rather that whereunto they were inclined. For if men follow that whereunto their sensuality enclinethe them, they do always err. Therefore if they suffer themselves to be governed by reason, they are always sure. And besides that, princes should not take upon them wars, for the burdening of their conscience, the mispendinge of their goods, and the loss of their honour: they ought also to remember the duty that they own to the common wealth the which they are bound to keep in peace and justice. For we others need not governors to search us enemies but princes which may defend us from the wicked. The divine Plato in his .4 book de legibus sayeth, that one demanded him why he did exalt the Lydians so much, and so much dispraise the Lacedæmonians? Plato answered: If I commend the Lydians, it is for that they never were occupied but in tilling the field: and if I do reprove here the Lacedæmonians, it is because they never knew nothing else but to conquer realms. And therefore I say, that more happy is that realm, where men have their hands with labouring full of blisters: then where their arms in fighting, are wounded with swords. These words which Plato spoke are very true, and would to god that in the gates and hearts of princes they were written. Plinius in an epistle sayeth, that it was a proverb much used amongst the Greeks, that he was king which never saw king. The like may we say, that he only may enjoy peace, which never knew what war meant. For simple & innocent though a man be, there is none but will judge him more happy, which occupieth his handekerchiefe to dry the sweat of his brows: then he that breakethe it to wipe the blood of his head. The princes and great lords which are lovers of war, aught to consider, that they do not only hurt in general all men, but also specially the good: and the reason is, that although they of their own wills do abstain from battle, do not spoil, do not rebel, nor slay: yet it is necessary for them to endure the injuries, and to suffer their own loss and damages. For none are meet for the war, but those which little esteem their life, and much less their consciences. If the war wear only with the evil against the evil, and to the hurt and hindrance of the evil little should they feel which presume to be good. But I am sorry the good are persecuted, the good are rob, and the good are slain: For if it were otherwise (as I have said) the evil against the evil, we would take little thought both for the vanquishing of the one, and much less for the destruction of the other. I ask now, what fame, what honour, what glory, what victory, or what riches in that war can be won, wherein so many good virtuous, & wise men are lost? There is such penury of the good in the world, and such need of them in the common wealth, that if it wear in our power, we with our tears ought to pluck them out of their graves and give them life, and not to lead them into the wars, as to a shambles to be put toe death. Pliny in one epistle, and Seneca in an other say: that when they desired a Roman captain that with his army he should enter into a great danger, whereof great honour should ensue unto him, and little profit to the common wealth: He answered. For nothing would I enter into that danger if it were not to give life to a roman citizen. For I desire rather to go environed with the good in Rome, then to go laden with treasures into my country. Comparing prince to prince, and law to law, and the christian with the pagan: without comparison the soul of a christian ought more to be esteemed, than the life of a Roman. For the good Roman obseruethe it as a law to die in the war: but the good christian hath this precept, to live in peace. Suetonius Tranquillus in the second book of Caesar's sayeth. That among all the Roman princes there was no prince so well-beloved, nor yet in the wars so fortunate as Augustus was. And the reason hereof is, because that prince never began any war, unless by great occasion he was thereunto provoked. O of how many princes (not ethnics, but christians) we have heard and read all contrary to this, which is: that were of such large conscience, that they never took upon them any war that was just. to whom I swear and promise, that since the war which they in this world beeganne, was unjust: the punishment which in an other they shall have is most righteous. Xerxes' king of the Perses being one dayeat dinner, one brought unto him very fair and savoury figs of the province of Athens: the which being set at the table, he swear by the immortal gods, and by the bones of his predecessors, that he would never eat figs of his country but of Athens, which were the best of all Greece. And that which by word of mouth king Xerxes swear, by valiant deeds with force and shield he accomplished, and went forthwith to conquer Gretia, for no other cause, but for to syll himself with the sygges of that country, so that he began that war not only as a light prince: but also as a vicious man. Titus Livius sayeth that when the French men did cast of the wine of Italy, immediately they put themselves in arms and went to conquer the country, without having any other occasion to make war against them: So that the frenchmen for the lycorousnes of the pleasant wines, lost the dear blood of their own hearts. King Antigonus dreamt one night that he saw king Methridates with a fyeth in his hand, who like a mower did cut all Italy. And there fell such fear to king Antigonus, that he determined to kill king Methridates: so that this wicked prince for credytinge a light dream, set all the world in an uproar.  
The Lumberdes being in Pannonia, heard say that there was in Italy sweet fruits, savowry flesh, odoriferous wines, fair women, good fish, little cold, and temperate heat: the which news moved them not only to desire them, but also they took weapons to go conquer italy: So that the lombards came not into italy to revenge them of their enemies, but to be there more vicious and riotous. The Romans and the Carthagiens were friends of long time, but after they knew there was in Spain great mines of gold and of silver, immediately arose between them exceeding cruel wars, so that those two puissant realms, for to take each from other their goods, destroyed their own proper dominions. The authors of the above said, were Plutarch, Paulus Diaconus, Berosus, & Titus Livius. O secret judgements of god which suffereth such things. O merciful goodness of thee my Lord, that ꝑmitteth such things, that through the dream of on price in his chamber, another for to rob the treasures of Spain, another to fly the cold of Hungary, another to drink the wines of Italy, another to eat figs of Grece, should put all the country to fire & blood. Let not my pen be cruel against all princes which have unjust wars. For as Traianus said. Just war is more worth than feigned peace. I commend, approve, and exalt princes which are careful & stout, to keep and defend that which their predecessors left them. For admit that for dispossessing them, hereof cometh all the breach with other Princes. Look how much his enemy offendeth his conscience for taking it: so much offendeth he his common wealth for not defending it. The words which the divine Plato spoke in the first book of his laws, did satisfy me greatly, which were these. It is not meet we should be to extreme in commending those which have peace: nor let us be to vehement in reproving those which have war. For it may be now, that if one have war, it is to the end to attain peace. And for the contrary, if one have peace, it shallbe to the end to make war. In deed Plato said very true. For it is more worth to desire short war, for long peace: then short peace for long war. The philosopher Chilo being demanded whereby a good or evil governor might be known, he answered. There is nothing whereby a good and evil man may be better known, then in that for the which they strive. For the tyrannous Prince offrethe himself to die to take from an other: but the virtuous prince travaileth to defend his own. When the redeemer of this world, departed from this world, he said not I give ye my war, or leave ye my war: but I leave ye my peace, and give you mye peace. Thereof ensuethe that the good christian is bound to keep the peace, which Christ so much commanded: then to invent war to revenge his proper injury, which god so much hated. If princes did that they ought to do, and in this case would believe me: for no temporal thing they should condescend to shed man's blood, if nothing else, yet at the least the love of him which on the cross shed his precious blood for us, should from that clean dissuade us. For the good Christians are commanded to bewail their own sins: but they have no licence to shed the blood of their enemies. Finally I desire, exhort, and further admonish all princes, and great lords, that for his sake that is prince of peace, they love peace, procure peace, keep peace, and live in peace. For in peace they shallbe rich, & their people happy.   

¶ th'emperor Marcus Aurelius writeth to his friend Cornelius, wherein he dyscribeth the discomodyties of war, and the vanity of triumph. Cap. xiv.  
Marcus' Emperor, wisheth to thee Cornelius his faithful friend, health, to thy person, and good luck against all evil fortune. Withein fifteen days after I came from the war of Asia, whereof I have triumphed here in Rome, remembering that in times paste thou wear a companion of my travail, I sent immediately to certify thee of my triumphs. For the noble hearts do more rejoice of their friends joy, than they do of their own proper delights. If thou wilt take pains to come when I sand to call thee, be thou assured, that on the one part thou shalt have much pleasure to see the great abundans of riches, that I have brought out of Asia, & to behold mye receiving into Rome: & on the other, thou canst not keep thyself from weeping, to see such a sort of captives (the which entered in before the triumphant chariotes) bound, & naked, to augment to the conquerors most glory: & also to them vanquished, to be a greater ignominy. Seldom times we see the sun shine bright all the day long, but first in the summer there hath been a mist, or if it be in the winter, th●t hath been a frost. By this parable I mean, that one of the miseries of this world is, that we shall see few in this world, which now be prosperous: but before have had fortune, in some cases, very malicious. For we see by experience, some come to be very poor, and other chance to attain to great riches: so that thorough the impoverishing of those, the other become rich, and prosperous. The weeping of the one, causeth the other to laugh: so that if the bucket that is empty above, doth not go down: the other which is full beneath can not come up. Speaking therefore according to sensuallyty, thou wouldst have been glad that day to have seen our triumph, with the abundance of riches, the great number of captives, the diversity of beasts, the valiantness of the captains, the sharpness of wits which we brought from Asia, & entered into Rome, whereby thou mightest well know the dangers that we escaped in that war. Wherefore speaking the truth, the matter between us & our enemies was so debated, that those of us that escaped best, had their bodies sore wounded, & their veins also almost with out blood. I let thee wit, my Cornelius, that the Parthes' are warlike men, & in dangerous enterprises very hardy & bold. And when they are at home in their country every one with a stout heart defendeth his house, & surely they do it like good men, & valiant captains. For if we other romans, without reason, & through ambition, do go to take another man's: it is meet & just, that they by force do defend their own. Let no man through the abundance of malice, or want of wisdom envy the Roman Captain, for any triumph that is given him by his mother Rome for surely to get this only one days honour, he adventureth his life a M. times in the field. I will not speak all that I might say of them that we lead forth to the wars, nor of them which we leave here at home in Rome, which be all cruel judges of our fame: for their judgement is not upright according to equity, but rather proceedeth of malice, and envy. Though they take me for a patient man, & not far out of order, yet I let thee know my Cornelius, that there is no patience can suffer, nor heart dissemble, to see many romans to have such great envy, which (through their malicious tongues) pass not to backbite other men's triumphs. For it is a old disease of evil men, through malice to backbite that with their tongue which through their cowardness, they never durst enterprise with their hands. Notwithstanding all this ye must know, that in the war you must first often hazard your life, & afterwards to the discretion of such tongues commit your honour. Our folly is so foolish, & the desires of men so vain, that more for one vain word, then for any profit, we desire rather to get vain glory with travail: then to seek a good life with rest. And therefore willingly we offer our lives now to great travail, and pain only that among vain men hereafter we may have a name. I swear by the immortal gods, unto thee my Cornelius, that the day of mye triumph, where as to the seeming of all those of this world I went triumphing in the chariot openly: yet I ensure thee my heart wept secretly. Such is the vanity of men, that though of reason we be admonished, called, and compelled, yet we fly from her and contrary, though we be ●●●ked evil handled, & despised of the world, yet we will serve it. If I be not deceived it is the prosperity of foolish men, & want of good judgements that cause the men to enter into others houses by force rather than to be desirous be quiet in their own, with a good will. I mean that we should in following virtue, sooner be virtuous: then in haunting vices, be vicious. For speaking the troth, men which in all and for all desire to please the world, must needs offer themselves to great travail and care. O Rome, Rome, cursed be thy folly, and cursed be he that in thee brought up so much pride, and b● he cursed of men, and hated of gods, which in thee ha●●uented this pompe● For very few are they, that worthily unto it have a●●●●d: but infinite are they, which through it have perished. What greater vn●●●or what equal lightness can be, then that a Roman captain, because he ●●h conquered realms, troubled quiet men, destroyed cities, beaten down castles, rob the poor, enriched tyrants, carried away treasures, shed much blood, made infinite widows, & taken many noble men's lives, should be afterwards (with great triumph of Rome) received in recompense of all this damage? Wilt thou now that I tell thee a greater folly, which above all other is greatest? I let thee wit, infinite are they that die in the wars, and one only carrieth away the glory thereof: so that these woeful & miserable men, though for their carcase they have not a grave, yet one captain goeth triumphing alone through Rome. By the immortal gods I swear unto thee, & let this pass secretly, as between friends, that the day of my triumph, when I was in my triumphant chariot, beholding the miserable captives laden with irons, and other men carrying infinite treasures, which we had evil gotten, and to see the careful widows weep for the death of their husbands, and remembered so many noble Romans which lost their lives in Africa: though I seemed to rejoice outwardly, yet I ensure thee I did weep drops of blood inwardly. For he is no man borne in the world, but rather a fury bred up in hell among the furies, that ran at the sorrow of another take any pleasure. I know not in this case, what reputation the prince, or captain should make of himself, that cometh from the war, and desireth to enter into Rome, for if he think (as it is reason) on the wounds he hath in his body, or the treasures which he hath wasted, on the places that he hath burnt, on the perils that he hath escaped, on the injuries which he hath received, the multitude of men which unjustly are slain, the friends which he hath lost, the enemies that he hath gotten, the little rest that he hath enjoyed, and the great travail that he hath suffered: in such case I say, that such a one with sorrowful sighs ought to lament, and with bitter tears ought to be received. In this case of triumphing. I neither commend the Assyrians, nor envy the Persians, nor am content with the Macedonians, nor allow the Caldians, or content me with Greeks. I curse the Troyans', and condemn the Carthagiens, because that they proceeded not according to the zeal of justice: but rather of the rage of pride, to set up triumphs, endamaged their countries, and left an occasion to undo us, O cursed Rome, cursed thou hast been, cursed thou art, and cursed thou shalt be. For if the fatal destinies do not lie unto me, and my judgement deceive me, and fortune fasten not the nail: they shall see of thee Rome in time to come, that which we others presently see of the realms paste. Thou oughtest to know, that as thou by tyranny hast made thyself lady of lords: so by justice thou shalt return to be the servant of servants. O unhappy Rome, and unhappy again I return to call the. Tell me I pray thee, why art thou at this day so dear of merchandise, and so cheap of folly? Where are the ancient fathers which builded thee, and with their virtues honoured thee? in whose stead presently thou magnifyest so many tyrants, which with their vices deface thee. Where are all those noble and virtuous barons which thou hast nourished, in whose steed thou hast now so many vicious, and vagabonds? Where are those, which for thy liberty did shed their blond, in whose stead now thou hast those, that to bring thee into subjection, have lost their life? Where are thy valiant Captains, which with such great travail did endeavour themselves to defend the walls from enemies, in whose stead have succeeded those that have plucked them down, and peopled them with vices, and vicious? where are thy great priests, the which did always pray in the Temples, in whose steed have succeeded those, which know not but to defile the churches, and with their wickedness to move the gods to wrath? where are these so many philosophers and orators, which with their counsels governed thee, in whose stead have now succeeded so many simple, & ignorant, which with their malice do undo thee? O Rome all those ancients have forsaken thee, and we succeed those which now are new, and if thou knewest truly the virtue of them, and didst consider the lightness of us: the day that they ended their life, the self same day not one stone in thee should have been left upon an other. And so those fields should have savoured of the bones of the virtuous: which now stink of the bodies of the vicious. Peradventure thou art more ancient than Babylon, more beautiful than Jerusalem, more rich than Carthage, more strong than Troy, more peopled the Thebes, more in circuit than Corinthe, more pleasant than Tirus, more fertile than Constantinople, more high than Camena, more unvincible than Aquileia, more privileged than Gades, more environed with Towers then Cap●a, and more floryshing than Cantabria. We see that all those notable cities perished, for all their virtuous defendors: and thinkest thou to remain being replenished with so much vice, and peopled with so many vicious?  
O my mother Rome, take one thing for a warning, that the glory which now is of thee, was first of them, and the same destruction that was of them, shall hereafter light upon thee, for such is the world.  
For thus goeth the world, even as we presently see the troubles of them that be paste: so shall those that be to come, see ours that be present.   

¶ Marcus Aurelius goeth on with his letter, and declareth the order that the Romans used in setting forth their men of war, & of the outrageous villainies which captains & soldiers use in the war. Cap. xv.  
I will now declare unto thee, my friend Cornelius, the order which we have to set forth men of war: and thereby thou shall see the great disorder that is in Rome. For in the old time there was nothing more looked unto, nor more corrected, then was the discipline of war. And for the contrary, now a days there is nothing so dissolute, as are our men of war. News once spread abroden through the empire, how the prince doth take upon him any war, immediately divers opinions engender amongst the people, and every one judgeth diversly upon the war. For asmuch as the one saith it is just, and the prince that taketh it upon him is just. Others say that it is unjust, and that the prince which began it, is a tyrant. The poor and seditious persons do allow it, to the end they might go, and take other men's goods by force. The rich and patient do condemn it, because they would enjoy their own in quiet. So that they do not justify or condemn war, according to the zeal of justice: but according to the little or much profit, that shall follow them of that enterprise. I command which am a Roman Emperor, war to be proclaimed, because a city or province hath rebelled, and that according to their custom they do observe the ceremonies of Rome. First you must understand, the priests must be called to go immediately to pray to the immortal gods: for the roman people never went to shed the blood of their enemies in the wars, but first the priests did shed the tears of their eyes in the Temples.  
Secondly all the sacred Senate doth go to the temple of the God jupiter, and there they swear all with a solemn oath, that if the enemies (against whom they go) do require a new confederation with Rome, or demand pardon of their faults committed: that (all revengement laid on side) they shall not deny them mercy.  
thirdly the consul which is appointed for captain of the war, went to the high capitol, and there he maketh a solemn vow to one of the gods, which liketh him best, that he will offer him a certain jewel, if he return victorious of the same war: and though the jewel which he doth promise be of great value, yet all the people are bound to pay it.  
The .4. is, that they set up in the temple of Mars the ensign of the Eagle, which is the ancient roman ensign, and that is, that all the Romans take it for commandment, that no spectacle nor feast be celebrated in Rome, during the time that their brethren be in the wars.  
The .5. a Praetor mounteth up to the top of the gate of Salaria, and their he bloweth the trumpet to muster men of war, and they bring forth the standers and ensigns to divide them among the Captains.  
How fearful a thing is it to see, that so soon as the Captain is environed with thensign, so soon hath he licence to commit all evils, and villainies. So that he taketh it for a bravery, to rob the countries whereby he passeth: and to deceive those with whom he practiseth. What liberty captains and governors of war have to do evil, and to be evil, it is very manifest in those whom they lead in their company. For the sons leave their fathers, the servants their lords, the Scholars their masters, the officers their offices, the priests their Temples, the amarouse their loves, and this for none other cause, but that under the colour of the liberties of war, their vices should not be punished by justice. O my friend Cornelius, I know not how I should begin to say that which I will tell thee. Thou oughtest to know, that after our men of war are gone out of Rome they neither fear the gods, neither honour the temples, they reverence not the priests, they have no obedience to their fathers, nor shame to the people, dread of justice, neither compassion of their country, nor remember that they are children of Rome: and yet very few of them think to end their life, but that all shame laid aside, they love the condemned idleness, and hate the just travail. Therefore hark, I will tell thee more, and though it seemeth much that I speak, I ensure thee it is but little in respect of that they do, for so much as some rob temples, others spread rumours, these break the doors, and those rob the Gods. Sometimes they take the free, sometimes they lose the bond. The nights they pass in plays, the days in blasphemies, to day they fight like lions, to morrow they fly like cowards. Some rebel against the Captains, and others fly to the enemies. finally, for all good they are unable, and for all evil they are meet. Therefore to tell the of their filthiness, I am ashamed to describe them.  
They leave their own wives, and take the wives of others, they dishonour the daughters of the good, and they beguile the innocent Virgins, there is no neighbour but they do covet, neither hostess but that they do force, they break their old wedlock, and yearly seek a new marriage: so that they do all things what they list, and nothing what they ought. Dost thou think presently my friend Cornelius that there are few evils in Rome, sith so many evil women do go to the war? Here for their sake, men offend the gods, they are traitors to their country, they deny their parentage, they do come to extreme poverty, they live in infamy, they rob the goods or others, they waste their own, they never have quiet life, neither remaineth any truth in their mouths: finally for the love of them, oftentimes war is moved again, and many good men lose their lives. Let us leave the reasons, and come to histories.  
Thou knowest right well, that the greatest part of Asia was conquered and governed, more with the women Amazons, then with any barbarous people. That young, noble, and valiant Porro, king of judea, for want of men, and aboundans of women, was overcome of the great Alexander. Hannibal the terrible captain of the Carthagiens was always lord of Italy, until he did permit women to go to the war. And when he fell in love with a maiden of Capua, they saw him immediately turn his shoulders to Rome. If Scipio the African had not scoured the Roman armies of lechery, the invincible Numantia had never been won. The Captain Silla in the wars of Mithridates, and the courageous Marius, in the war of the Zimbtes, had over their enemies so many victories, because in their camps they suffered no women. In the time of Claudius the Emperor, the Tharentines and Capuans were very mortal enemies, in so much as the one again the other pitched their camp, and by chance one day in the camp of the Capuans, two Captains fell at variance, because they both loved one woman, and when the Tharentines perceived their dissensyon, immediately with their power gave them the onset.  
Whereof it ensueth, that through the naughtiness of one evil woman, was lost the liberty of that goodly city. I had in this war of Parthes' 16. thousand horsemen, and .24. thousand footmen, and .35. thousand women, and the disorder in this case was so great, that from the host I sent my wife Faustine, and the wives of divers other Senators home to their houses, that they should keep the old and nourish the young.  
Our forefathers led women in the old time to the war, to dress meat for the whole, and to cure the wounded: but now we lead them to the end cowards should have occasion to be effeminate, and the valiant to be vicious. And in the end, their enemies do break their heads: but the women do wound their hearts. I will that thou know other things, my Cornelius, and they are, that the Gauls, the Vulcan's, the Flaminii, the Regii, the which are priests of the mother Sibilla, of the god Vulcan, of the god Mars, and of the god jupiter, the fear of the gods set aside, leaving their temples desert, laying of their honest garments, not remembering their holy ceremonies, breaking their straight vows, an infinite number of them go to the camp, where they love more dishonestly than others: for it is a common thing, that those which once presume to be solitary, and shamefast, after that they are once fleshed: exceed all other in shame & vice.  
It is a dishonest thing, and also perilous to carry priests to the war: for their office is to pacify the gods with tears, and not to threaten men with weapons. If perchance Princes would say, it is good to carry priests to the war to offer sacrifices to the gods: To this I answer, that the temples are built to pray, and the fields for to fight: so that in one place the gods would be feared, and in an other honoured and sacrificed. In the year of the foundation of Rome .315. the consul Vietro passed into Asia, and went against the Palestines, the which there rebelled against the Romans, and by the way he passed by the temple of Apollo, in the isle of Delphos, and as there he made a prayer unto the god Apollo very long, to the end he would reveal unto him whether he should return victorious from Asia or not. The oracle answered. O consul Vietro if thou wilt return victorious from thy enemies, restore our priests which thou takest from our temples. For we other gods will not: that the man whom we choose for our divine service, ye others should lead to the vices of the world. If it be true (as it is true in deed) that the god Apollo said unto the consul Vietro, me thinketh it is no just thing to co condescend that priests should go to lose themselves in the war.  
For as thou knowest my Cornelius, without doubt greater is the offence that they commit in going to undo themselves, then is the service which they do to princes being desirous to fight.  
Let us have the priests in the Temples to pray, and let us see how the captains are wont to govern themselves, and in this case thou shalt find that the day that the Senate do appoint a Senator for captain, they prove him if he can play at the weapons in the Theatre.  
The Consul leadeth him to the high capitol with him, the Eagle is hanged at his breast, they cast the purple upon his shoulders, they give him money of the common treasure, immediately he groweth into such pride, that forgetting the poverty past which he suffered in his country, he thinketh one day to make him emperor of Rome. It is a common thing, that when fortune exalteth men of low estate, to high degree, they presume much, and know little, and much less what they are worth. So that if their feeble force were coequal to their high mind, one alone should suffice to over come their enemies, and also to win many realms.  
The Captains have taken a custom now in Rome, and they tell me that it is an invention of Mauritane, that is, that they tease their beards, they curl their hears, they clip their words, they change their garments, they accompany with murderers, they go the most part armed, they go very fast to seem fierce, and to conclude they little esteem to be beloved, and take it great glory to be feared.  
And to th'intent thou shouldest know, my Cornelius, how much they would be feared, I will recite thee an history which is, that I standing one day in Penthapolyn, a captain of mine, I hearing him, and he not seeing me, for so much as they would not let him do all that he would have done in the house, he said unto an hostess of his.  
Ye other villains did never know captains of armies, therefore know it, if thou dost not know it mother, that the earth doth never tremble, but when it is threatened with a Roman Captain, and the gods do never suffer the Sun to shine, but where we others are obeyed.  
Sins thou hast now hard that he said, hear also the valiantness that he hath done. Within short space after, the captain went unto a battle in Arabia, where he was the first that fled, and left the standard alone in the field, the which had almost made me lose the battle. But I in recompense of his valiant deed, commanded to cut of his great head. For in giving the onset upon the enemies, the flying of one man doth more hurt, than the fighting of two thousand doth profit. I have often times heard the emperor trajan my lord say, that the men which in peace seem most fierce, in wars commonly are most cowards.  
It chanceth that divers things are compassed, for having only a good eloquence, others for having witch craft, others for being very diligent, others for opening their purse, and truly this is the most and best mean that is occupied in Rome. But the affairs of wars do not consist, in talking many words before their friends: but in fighting manfully in the field against their enemies. For in the end, men most full of words, are for the most part cowards in deeds. What wilt thou I tell the more, my Cornelius, of the injuries which the captainez do in the cities whereby they pass, of the slanders which they raise in the provinces where they abide? I let thee weete, that the little worm doth not so much harm that gnaweth the wood, the moth to the garments: the spark unto the toae, the locust unto the corn, neither the weevil to the garners, as the captains do to the people. For they leave no beast but they kill, nor orchyarde but they rob, nor wine but they drink, nor dove house but they climb, nor temple but they spoil, nor chase but they hunt, no sedition but they raise, no villainy but that they commit. And they do more than they ought to do, for they eat without meaning to pay, and they will not serve unless they be well paid: and the worst of all is, that if they have their pay, immediately they change or play it. If they be not paid, they rob and mutiny forthwith: so that with poverty they are not content, and with riches they wax vicious and insolent. The matter is now come to such corruption, and there is at this day men of war in Rome so careless, that here no captain seemeth but an example of murderers, a stirrer up of seditious persons, an enuyer of the good, a partaker with all evil, a thief of thieves, a pirate of rovers, and finally I do not say that they seem to be: but I do affirm that they are the scourge of your virtuous, and refuge of the vicious. I would not say this, but yet not withstanding I ought to say it, because it is a thing so far out of order, and so much to be laughed at: that these wicked men though they are our familiar enemies, there is no prince that ruleth them, nor justice that correcteth them, nor fear that doth oppesse them, nor law that subdueth them, nor shame that refraineth them, nor parents that correct them, nor punishment that doth abase them, nor yet death that doth end them: but now as men which are without remedy, we let them eat of all.   

¶ Marcus Aurelius Emperor pursueth his letter, showing the great damages that have ensued for the wars begun with strange realms. Cap. xvi.  
O Unfortunate Rome, who was not wont to have such evil luck, but the older thou art, the more unlucky I see thee. For by writings we read, and also with our eyes we see, that the more fortunate a city or person hath been in the beginning, the more froward fortune is unto him in the ending. Truly in those ancient times, and in those glorious worlds, I say when they were peopled with true Romans, and not as now (they which have no children but bastards) the armies were so well taught that came from Rome, as the philosophers which were in the schools of Greece. If the greek writings do not lie unto me, Philip the great king of Macedony, for this is so renowned in histories, and his son the great Alexander for this was so fortunate in the wars, that they had their armies so well correct: that it rather seemed a Senate which governed, than a camp which fought. In that we can gather out of Titus Livius, and other writers, from the time of Quintus Cincinnatus dictator, until the noble Marcus Marcellus, were the most prosperous times of the Roman empire. For before kings did travail, and afterwards it was persecuted with tyrants. In these so happy times, one of the greatest felicities that Rome had, was to have the warlike discipline well corrected. And then Rome began to fall, when our armies began to do damage. For if those of the war have, truce with vices, the others of the common wealth can not have peace with virtues. O cursed be thou Asia, and cursed be the day that with thee we had conquest. For we have not seen the good that have followed us of thy conquest, until this present, and the loss and damage which from thee came unto us, shallbe lamented in Rome forever. O cursed Asia, we spent our treasures in thee, and thou hast geeven to us thy vices. In change of our valiant men, thou hast sent us thy fine mineons, we have won thy cities, and thou tryumphest of our virtues. We battered thy forts, and thou hast destroyed our manners. We triumph of thy realms, and thou didst cut the throats of our friends. We made to thee cruel war, and thou conquerest from us the good peace, With force thou were ours, and with good will we are yours. We are unjust lords of thy riches, and just tenants of thy vices. Finally thou Asia art a woeful grave of Rome, and thou Rome art a filthy sink of Asia. Since our ancient fathers did content themselves with Rome alone, why should not we their children content ourselves with Rome and Italy? but that we must go to conquer Asia, where we adventured our honour, and spent our treasure? If those ancient romans, being as they were, so princely barons in life, and so valiant in fighting, and so hardy to command, did content themselves with this little border: why should not we content ourselves not being as they are, having a realm rich and vicious? I know not what fond toy took us in the head, to go conquer Asia, and not to content ourselves with Rome? Italy was not so poor of riches, nor so destitute of cities, nor so unpeopled of people, nor so solitary of beasts, nor so undecked with buildings, nor so barren of good fruits: but that of all these things we had more, than our father's wished, and also more than we their children deserved. For me I would say, that it is for want of judgement or abundance of pride, for us to seek to exceed our forefathers in signory: when we are not coequal unto them in virtue. I was contented with all things of my forefathers, save only that they were a little proud, and seditious, and herein we their children do resemble them well.  
For as much as we are not only proud and seditious, but also covetous and malicious. So that in virtuous things we go backward, and in unlawful works we go forward. What is become of the great victories that our forefathers had in Asia? What is become of the infinite treasure they have rob in that country? what is become of the great number of captives that they took in the war? what is become of the strange beasts that they sent into Italy. What is become of the riches which every one brought home to his house? what is become of the valiant kings which they took in that conquest? what is become of the feasts and triumphs, wherewith they entered triumphing into Rome? What wilt thou I say more unto thee in this case, (my Cornelius) but that all they which invented the war are dead, all those which were in Asia are dead, all those which defended that country are dead, all those which entered triumphing into Rome are dead, and finally, all the riches and triumphs which our fathers brought from Asia, they and those in short space had an end, except the vices & pleasures whereof we see no end. O if the valiant princes knew, what a thing it is to invent wars in strange realms, what travails they seek for their persons, what cares in their hearts, what trouble to their subjects, what waste to their treasures, what poverty to their friends, what pleasures to their enemies, what destruction of the good, what liberty of the evil, and what occasion they give to strangers to speak, what universal evil they sow in their natural countries, and what evil poison they leave to their heirs: I swear by the faith of a good man, that if as I feel it, princes did feel it, and as I taste it, princes did taste it, & also as I have proved it, princes did prove it, I do not say that with effusion of blood I would take realms by force: but also they offering them to me with tears, I would not take them willingly. For speaking the truth, it is not the point of valiant princes for to sustain an other man's, to put their own in jeopardy. I ask now, what profit took Rome of the conquest of Asia? I admit that it durst conquer it, that it was hardy in winning it, obstinate in fighting, and happy in taking it: should it therefore be fortunate in maintaining it? In this case I say and affirm, and of that I say I do not repent me: that it is possible to take Asia, but it is but a folly to presume to maintain it.  
Dost thou not think it a great folly to presume to maintain Asia, since there never cometh news of a victory, but that it is occasion of an other battle, and that to sustain war, they rob all Italy? In Asia our money is spent, our children are perished: In Asia died our fathers, for Asia they make us pay tributes: In Asia the good horses are consumed: Into Asia they carry all our corn: In Asia all the thieves are nourished: From Asia cometh all the seditious persons: In Asia all the good do perish: From Asia they send us all the vices: and finally in Asia all our treasures are spent, and in Asia all our excellent Romans are killed. And sith this is the service that Asia doth to Rome, why will Rome continue war with Asia? Other princes before us have conquered Asia, taken Asia, and possessed Asia: but in the end, when they saw that it was a country where they feared not the gods, nor acknowledged subjection to their princes, neither that they were apt to receive laws, they determined to forsake them: because they found by experience, that they neither weary their bodies with wars, neither win their hearts with benefits. Those Princes not being hardy, nor so bold to sustain Asia by land, should we others presume to secure it by sea? They forsake it being neighbours, and will we others maintain it being strangers? In my opinion Asia is a country, where all the valiant men have employed their valauntnes, where all the fools have proved their folly, where all the proud have showed their pride, where all the princes entered in with might, where all the tyrants have employed their life: but in the end, it neither profiteth the one to will it, nor to the others to know it, and yet much less to vanquish it.  
I know not the man that loveth Asia, that willeth well to Asia, that speaketh well of Asia, or that favoureth the things of Asia, since she giveth us occasion to speak daily, to sigh nightly, and to weep hourly.  
If men attained to the secret to know the fatal destinies, with the which the gods have created Asia, they would not strive so much in the conquest thereof. For the gods have created it in such a sign, that it should be a common pasture where all feed, a common market where all sell, a common Inn where all rest, a common table where all play, a common house where all dwell, a common country where all remain: and thereof it cometh, that Asia is desired of many, and governed of few. For being as it is a common country, every man will make it his own proper.  
Peradventure thou wilt think, my friend Cornelius, that I have spoken now all the evils of Asia, but hearken, yet I will form the a new question again. For according to the dommages which have followed (from Asia) to our mother Rome, time shall rather want to write, than matter to declare. Not without tears I say that which I will say, that there was never any Roman Captain that did kill ten thousand Asians with the weapons he brought into Asia; but that he lost a hundredth thousand romans with the vices they brought to Rome. So that the Asians by the hands of their enemies died with honour: and left us Romans alive full of their vices with infamy. I ask now what they were that invented to dine in common places, to sup in secret gardens, to apparel the women as men in the theatre, to colour the flesh of priests with yellow? to anoint the women as men in the bathe, the Senators going smelling to the Senate, Princes to be apparanied with purple against the ancient decree? to eat twice in the day as the Tyrant Dennys did, to keep harlots and concubines as they of tire do, to speak blasphemies against the gods which were never heard of before in the empire? These said vices of Asia, Asia hath presently sent to Rome.  
At the same time when in those parties of the Oriente, the war was kindled: ten valiant capitains brought these vices to Rome, whose names my pen shall pardon to tell, because their vile offences should not obscure their valiant deeds. Before that Rome conquered Asia we were rich, we were patient, we were sober, we were wise, we were honest, and above all we lived contented.  
But since that time we have geeven ourselves to forgeat the policies of Rome, and to learn the pleasure of Asia: so that now all vices may be learned in Rome, as all sciences may be heard in Greece.  
By the above rehearsed, all warlike princes may see, what profit they have to conquer strange realms. Let us now leave the vices, which in the wars are recovered, and talk of money which the princes covet and love. And in this I say, that there is no prince brought into so extreme poverty, as he which conquereth a strange country.  
O Cornelius, thou haste not seen how Princes more of a will then of necessity do waste their treasures: how they demand that of another man's, and how their own doth not suffice them: they take those of churches, they seek great lones, they invent great tributes, they demand  subsidies, they give strangers occasion to speak, and make themselves hated of their subjects: finally they pray their subjects, and humble themselves to their enemies. Since I have declared the dommages of war, I will now declare what the original of war is.  
For it is unpossible that the physician apply unto the sick agreeable medicine, if he know not of what humour the sickness doth proceed.  
princes since they came of men, are nourished with men, do counsel with men, and live with men, and to conclude they are men. Sometime through pride which aboundeth in them: sometime through want of counsel, they themselves imagine, and other flatterers telleth, that though they have much in respect of other princes, yet they can do little. Also they say unto them, that if their substance be great, their fame ought to be greater. Further they tell than, that the good prince ought little to esteem that he hath inherited of his predecessors, in respect of the great deal more he ought to leave to his successors. Also they tell them, that never prince left of him any great memory, but inventing see cruel war against his enemy. Also they tell them, that the hour that one is chosen emperor of Rome, he may boldly conquer all the whole earth. These vain reasons being heard of the princes, afterwards as their fortune is base, and their minds high, immediately they defy their enemies, they open their treasures, they assemble great armies: and in the end of all, the gods suffer, that they thinking to take an other man's goods, they waste and lose their own. O princes, I know not who doth deceive ye, that you which by peace may be rich, and by war will be poor?  
O princes, I know not who doth deceive you, that you which may be loved do seek occasions to be hated. O princes, I know not who doth beguile ye, that ye which may enjoy a sure life, do adventure yourselves to the mutability of fortune. O princes, I know not who doth deceive you, that you so little esteem and weigh your own abundance, and so greatly set by the want of others. O princes, I know not who doth deceive you, that all having need of you, you should have need of others. I let thee to weet my Cornelius, though a prince be more quick and careful than all other his predecessors have been in Rome: yet it is unpossible that all things touching war, should succeed unto him prosperously. For in the greatest need of war, either he wanteth money, or his subjects do not secure him, or time is contrary unto him, or he findeth perilous passages, he lacketh artillarye, or the Captains rebel, or else succour cometh to his adversaries: so that he seeth himself so miserable, that thoughts do more oppress his heart, than the enemies do harm his land. Though a prince had no war, but for to suffer men of war, yet he ought to take upon him no war. I ask thee my Cornelius, what travail so great to his parson, or what greater damage to his realm can his enemies do, then that which his own men of war do? The enemies, to do the worst they can, will but rob our frontiers: but our men of war do rob all the whole country. The enemies we dare and may resist, but to ours we cannot, nor dare not speak. The enemies, the worst they can do, is once in a month to rob & run their ways: but ours daily do rob, & remain still. The enemies fear their enemies only, but ours do fear their enemies, & have no pity on their frids. The enemies, the further they go on, the more they diminish: but ours the further they go, the more they increase. I know no greater war that princes can have, then to have men of war in their realms. For as experience doth show us, before the gods they are culpable, to princes importunate, & to the people troublesome: so that they live to the damage of all, and to the profit of none. By the God Mars I swear unto thee (my friend Cornelius) as he may direct my hands in the war, that I have more complaints in the Senate, of the thefts which my captains do commit in Illiria, then of all the enemies of the Roman people. Both for that I say, and for that I keep secret. I am more afraid to create an ensygne of two hundred men of war, then to give a cruel battle to thirty thousand men. For that battle, fortune (good or evil) forthwith dispatcheth, but with these I can be sure no time of all my life. Thou wilt say unto me (Cornelius) that since I am Emperor of Rome, I should remedy this since I know it. For that prince which dissembleth with the fault of another, by reason he will condemn him, as if it were his own. To this I answer, that I am not mighty enough to remedy it, except by my remedy there should spring a greater inconvenience. And since thou hast not been a Prince, thou couldst not fall into that I have, nor yet understand that which I say. For princes by their wisdom know many things, the which to remedy they have no power. So it hath been, so it is, so it shallbe, so I found it, so I keep it, so will I leave it them, so I have read it in books, so have I seen it with my eyes, so I heard it of my predecessors, and finally I say, so our fathers have invented it, and so will we their children sustain it, and for this evil, we will leave it to our heirs. I will tell thee one thing, and imagine that I err not therein, which is, considering the great damage, and little profit, which the men of war do bring to our common wealth: I think to do it, and to sustain it, either it is the folly of men, or a scourge given of the gods. For there can be nothing more just, then for the gods to permit, that we feel that in our own houses: which we cause others in strange houses to lament. All those things I have written unto thee, not for that it skilleth greatly that thou know them: but that my heart is at ease to utter them: For as Alcibiades said, the chests, and the hearts, ought always to be open to their friends. Panutius my secretary, goeth in my behalf to visit that land, and I gave him this letter to give thee, with two horses, wherewith I think thou wilt be contented, for they are gennettes. The weapons and riches which I took of the Parthes', I have now divided, notwithstanding I do send thee .2. chariots of them. My wife Faustine greeteth thee, and I send a rich glass for thy daughter, and a jewel with stones for thy sister. No more but I beseech the Gods to give thee a good life, and me a good death.   

¶ The admonition of the Author to Princes and great Lords to th'intent that the more they grow in years, the more they are bound to refrain from vices. Cap. xvii.  
AVlus Gelius in his book De noctibus Atticis sayeth, that there was an ancient custom amongst the Romans, to honour and have in great reverence aged men. And this was so inviolate a law amongst them, that there was none so noble of blood and lineage, neither so puissant in riches, neither so fortunate in battles, that should go before the aged men, which were laden with whit hears: so that they honoured them as the gods, and reverenced them as their fathers. Amongst other the aged men had these pre-eminences, that is to weet, that in feasts they sat highest, in the triumphs they went before, in the temples they did sit down, they spoke to the Senate before all others, they had their garments surred, they might eat alone in secrat, and by their only word they were credited as witnesses: Finally I say, that in all things they served them, and in nothing they annoyed them. After the people of Rome began war with Asia, they forsook all their good Roman customs immediately.  
And the occasion hereof was, that since they had no men to sustain the common wealth, by reason of the great multitude of people which died in the war: they ordained that all the young men should marry, the young maids, the widows, the free, and the bond, and that the honour which had been done until that time unto the old men, from henceforth should be done unto the married men, though they were young. So that the most honoured in Rome was he, not of most years, but he that had most children. This law was made a little before the first battle of Catthage.  
And the custom that the married men were more honoured, than the old men, endured until the time of the Emperor Augustus, which was such a friend of antiquyties, that he renewed all the walls of Rome with new stones, and renewed all the ancient customs of the common wealth. Lycurgus in the laws which he gave to the Lacedæmonians ordained that the young men passing by the old, should do them great reverence: & when the old did speak, than the younger should be silent.  
And he ordained also, that if any old man by casualty did lose his goods and came into extreme poverty, that he should be sustained of the common wealth: and that in such sustentation they should have respect, not only to secure him for to sustain him, but further to give him to live competently. plutarch in his Apothegms declareth, that Cato the censor visiting the corners of Rome, found an old man sitting at his door weeping, and shedding many tears from his eyes. And Cato the censor demanding him why he was so evil handled, and wherefore he wept so bitterly, the good old man answered him.  
O Cato, the Gods being the only comfortours, comfort thee in all thy tribulations, since thou art ready to comfort me at this woeful hour.  
As well as thou knowest that the consolations of the heart are more necessary, than the physic of the body: the which being applied sometimes doth heal, and an other time they do harm. Behold my scabbed hands, my swollen legs, my mouth without teeth, my peeled face, my white beard and my bald head: for thou being (as thou art,) descreete, shouldest be excused to ask me why I weep.  
For men of my age, though they weep not for the little they feel: yet they ought to weep for the overmuch they live. The man which is laden with years, tormented with diseases, pursued with enemies, forgotten of his friends, visited with mishaps, and with evil will and poverty: I know not why he demandeth long life? For there can be no sharper revengement of vices, which we commit: then to give us long life.  
Though now I am aged, I was young, and if any young man should do me any injury, truly I would not desire the gods to take his life, but that they would rather prolong his life. For it is a great pity, to hear the man (which hath lived long) account the troubles which he hath endured.  
Know thou Cato, if thou dost not know it, that I have lived .77. years. And in this time, I have buried my father, my grandfather, two Aunts and .5. uncles. After that I had buried .9. sisters, and .11. Brethren. I have buried afterwards, two lawful wives, and five bond women, which I have had as my lemans.  
I have buried also .14. children, and .7. married daughters: and therewith not contented, I have buried .37. Nephews, and .15. Nieces, and that which grieveth me most of all is, that I have buried two friends of mine, one which remained in Capua, & the other which was resident here at Rome. The death of whom hath grieved me more, than all those of my alliance and parentage. For in the world there is no like loss to that, where a man loseth him whom entirely he loveth and of whom also he is dearly beloved. The fatal destinies ought to content themselves, to have annoyed mye house with so many misfortunes. But after all this, and above all this, they have left me a wicked nephew, which shall be mine heir, and they have left unto me that all mye life I shall lament. O Cato, for that thou owest to the common wealth I do desire thee, and by the immortal gods I do conjure thee, that since thou art a virtuous Roman, and censor of the people, that thou provide for one of these two things, that is to weet, that this mye Nephew do serve me, or else ordain that I die forthwith. For it is a great cruelty that those do pursue me which are alive, since it is now 40. years that I ceased not to bewail the dead. Cato being well informed of that the old man had told him, and since he found all that true which he spoke, he called unto his presence the young Nephew, and said unto him these words. If thou were such a child as thou oughtest to be, thou shouldest excuse me of pain, and thyself of travail. But since it is not so, I pray thee take that patiently that I shall command thee: and be thou assured, that I will not command thee any thing that shallbe against justice. For the vicious younglings (as thou art) ought to be more ashamed of the youthefullnes they have committed: then for the punishment which is geeven unto them.  
first I command thou be whipped, because thou art disobedient, and troublesome to thy grandfather,  
secondly I command that thou be banished the limits of Rome, because thou art a vicious young man.  
Thirdly, I command that of all the goods thou hast enherited, thou shalt be disenherited: because thou dost not obey thy grandfather.  
And the cause why I give such severe sentence is, to the end that from hensforthe the young shall not disobey the aged, and also that those which have enheryted great treasures, shall not think that men shall permit them to be more vicious, than others. Phalaris the tyrant writing to a friend of his which was very aged, said these words: the which rather seemed spoken of a Philosopher then of a tyrant. I have marveled at thee & am offended with the my friend Vetto, to know as I do, that in years thou art very aged, and in works very young: and also it grieveth me that thou hast lost the credit of knowledge in the schools. It grieveth me more, that through thee the privilege should be lost, which the old men have accustomed to have in Grece: that is to weet, that all the thieves, all the perjured, and all the murderers were more sure, when by white hears they seemed to be old: when they reteyred to the altars of the temples. O what goodness, O what wisdom. what valiantness, and what innocency ought the aged men to have in the ancient time: since in Rome they honoured them as gods, and in Grece they privileged those white hears as the temples. Pliny in an epistle he wrote to Fabatus sayeth, that Pirrus king of the Epirotes, demanded a philosopher which was the best city of the world? who answered. The best city of the world, is Molerda, a place of three hundredth fierce in Achaia: because all the walls are of black stones, and all those which govern it have hoary heads.  
And further he said. Woe be unto thee Rome, Woe be unto thee Carthage, woe be unto thee Numancia, woe be unto thee egypt, and woe be unto thee Athens five cities which count themselves for the best of the world, whereof I am of a contrary opinion.  
For they avaunt themselves to have white walls, and are not ashamed to have young senators. This philosopher said very well, and I think no man will say less than I have said. Of this word Senex, is derived the name of a senator, for so were the governors of Rome named, because the first King (that was Romulus) chosé a hundred aged men to govern the common wealth, and commanded, that all the other Roman youth should employ themselves to the wars.  
Since we have spoken of the honour which in the old time was geeven to the ancient men, it is reason we know now, from what year they counted men aged, to the end they should be honoured as aged men. For the makers of laws, when they had established the honours which ought to be done to the aged: did aswell ordain, from what day and year, they should beeginne. divers ancient Philosophers did put six ages, from the time of the birth of man, till the hour of death.  
That is to weet, childhood, which lasteth till seven years. Infancy, which endureth until seventeen years. Youth, which continueth till thirty years. Man's estate, which remaineth till fifty and five years. Age which endureth till three score and eighteen years. Crooked age which remaineth till death. And so after man had passed five and fifty years, they called him aged. Aulus Gelius in his tenth book, in the xxvii. Chapter saith, that Tullius Hostillius (who was king of the Romans) determined to count all the old and young, which were amongst the people: and also to know which should be called infaunts, which young, and which old. And there was no little difference amongst the Roman Philosophers, and in the end it was decreed by the king, and the Senate, that men till seventeen years should be called infaunts, and till six and forty should be called young, and from six and forty upwards they should be called old.  
If we will observe the law of the Romans, we know from what time we are bound to call and honour the aged men. But adding hereunto it is reason that the old men know, to what prowesses and virtues they are bound, to the end that with reason, and not with feigning, they be served. For speaking the truth, if we compare duty to duty, they old men are more bound to virtue: then the young to service. We can not denay, but that all states of nations (great & small, young and old) are bound to be virtuous: but in this case the one is more to be blamed, than the other.  
For oftentimes if the young do offend, it is for that he wanteth experience: but if the old man offend, it is for the abundance of malice. Seneca in an epistle said these words. I let thee weet my friend Lucillus, that I am very much offended, and I do complain, not of any friend or foe: but of myself, and ●●●●e other. And the reason why I think thus, is that I see myself old in years, and young in vices: so that little is that wherein I have served the gods, & much less is that I have profited men. And Seneca saith further, he which praysethe himself moste to be aged, and that would be honoured for being aged: ought to be temperate in eating, honest in apparel, sober in drinking, soft in words, wise in counsel, and to conclude, he ought to be very patient in adversity, and far from vices which attempt him. Worthy of praise is the great Seneca, for these words: but more worthy shall the old men be, if they will conform their works according to those words.  
For if we see them abandon vices, and give themselves to virtues: we will both serve them, and honour them.   

¶ That princes when they are aged, should be temperate in eating, sober in drinking, modest in apparel, and above all, true in communication. Cap. xviii.  
IT is consonant to the counsel of Seneca, that the aged should be temperate in eating, which they ought to do, not only for the reputation of their persons: but also for the preservation of their lives. For the old men which are drunk, and amorous, are persecuted with their own diseases, and are defamed by the tongues of other. That which the ancient men should eat (I mean those, which are noble, and virtuous) ought to be very clean, & well dressed, and above all, that they take it in season and time: for otherwise, to much eating of divers things, causeth the young to be sick, and enforceth the old to die. Young men though they eat dishonestly, very hastily, and eat speaking, we can do no less but dissemble with them: but the old men which eat much, and hastily, of necessity we ought to reprove them. For men of honour ought to eat at the table with a great gravity: as if they were in any counsel to determine causes. It is not my intention to persuade the feeble old men not to eat, but to admonish them to eat no more than is necessary. We do not prohibit them to eat delicate things, but to beware of superfluous things. We do not counsel them to leave eating having need: but to withdraw themselves from curiosyties. For though it be lawful for aged men to eat sufficient, it is not honest for them to eat to overcome their stomachs. It is a shame to write it, but more shame ought they to have which do it, which is, that the goods which they have won and inheryted by their predecessors, they have eaten, and drunken: so that they have neither bought house, vine, nor yet married any daughter, but they are naked, and their poor children go to the Taverns and Inns: and the miserable fathers to the Hospitals, and churches. When any man cometh to poverty, for that his house is burned, or his ship drowned, or that they have taken all from him by law, or that he hath spent it in pleading against his enemy, or any other inconvenience is come unto him: me thinketh we all are bound to succour him, and the heart hath compassion to behold him: but he that spendeth it in apparel not requisite, to seek delicious wines, and to eat delicate meats, to such one I would say, that the poverty he suffereth is not sufficient for his deserts. For of all troubles there is none so great, as to see a man suffer the evil, whereof he himself hath been the occasion. Also according to the counsel of Seneca, the ancients ought to be well advertised, in that they should not only be temperate in eating, but also they should be sober in drinking: and this both for the preservation of their health, and also reputation of their honesty.  
For if the old Physicians do not deceive us, humane bodies do dry and corrupt because they drink superfluously, and eat more than nature requireth. If I should say unto the old men, that they should drink no wine: they might tell me, that it is not the counsel of a Christian. But presuppose they ought to drink, and that for no opinion they should leave it: yet I admonish, exhort, and desire them, that they drink little, and that they drink very temperate.  
For the disordinate and immesurate drinking, causeth young men to be drunk, and the old men: both drunk and foolish. O how much authority lost they, and what gravity do honourable and ancient men lose, which in drinking are not sober. Which seemeth to be true, for asmuch as the man being laden with wine, though he were the wisest in the world he should be a very fool, that would take counsel of such one in his affairs. plutarch in a book which he made of the fortune of the Romans said: that in the senate of Rome, there was an ancient man, who made great exclamations, that a young man had in such sort dishonoured him, that for the injuries he had spoken, he deserved death.  
And when the young man was called for to answer to that he had said unto him, he answered. Father's conscript, though I seem young unto you, yet I am not so young, but that I knew the father of this old man, who was a virtuous and noble Roman, and somewhat a kin to me. And I seeing that his father had gotten much goods fighting in the wars, and also seeing this old man spending them in eating and drinking: I said unto him one day. I am very sorry, my lord and uncle, for that I hear of thy honour in the market place: and am the more sorry for that I see done in thy house, wherein we saw fifty men armed before in one hour, and we now see a hundredth knaves made drunk.  
And worse than that, as thy father showed to all those that entered his house, the ensigns he had won in the wars: so now to those that enter into thy house, thou showest them divers sorts of wines. My uncle complained of me, but in this case I make the plaintiff judge, against me the defendant. And I would by the immortal gods, he deserved no more pain for his works: then I deserve by my words.  
For if he had been wise, he would have accepted the correction which secretly I gave him: and had not come openly, to declare his faults in the Senate. The complaint of the old man being heard by the Senate, and the excuse in like manner of the young man: they gave judgement, that they should take all the goods from the old man, and provide him of a tutor which should govern him and his house.  
And they commanded the tutor, that from hence forward he should not give him one cup of wine, since he was noted of drunkenness. Of truth the sentence which the Senate gave was very just. For the old man which giveth himself to wine, hath asmuch need to have a governor, as an infant, or a fool. Laettius made a book of the feasts of Philosophers, and declareth sundry ancient banquets, among the which he putteth one, where were assembled many great philosophers. And admit that the meats were mean, & simple: yet the bidden gests were sage. And the cause why they did assemble, was not to eat: but to dispute of some grave doctrines, whereof the philosophers did somewhat doubt: For in those days, the greater the Stoics & the Peripatetikes were in number: so much the more were the philosophers divided amongst themselves. When they were so assembled, truly they did not eat, nor drink out of measure: but some pleasant matter was moved between the masters and the scholars, between the young and the old, that is to weet, which of them could declare any secret of philosophy, or any profound sentence. O happy were such feasts, and no less happy were they that thither were bidden.  
But I am sorry that those which now bid, and those that are bidden, for a troth are not as those ancients were. For there are no feasts now adays of philosophers, but of gluttons, not to dispute, but to mumur, not to open doubtful things, but to talk of the vices of others, not to confirm ancient amities, but to begin new dissensions, not to learn any doctrines, but to approve some novelty. And that which worst of all is, that the old strive at the table with the young, not on him which hath spoken the most gravest sentence: but of him which hath drunk most wine, and hath rinsed most cups. Paulus Diaconus in the history of the Lombard's declareth, that four old Lombard's made a banquet, in the which the one drank to the others years, and it was in this manner. they made defiance to drink two to two and after each man had declared how many years old he was: the one drank as many times as the other was years old, and likewise his companion pledged him. And one of these four companions had at the least. 58. years: the second .63 the third .87. the fourth .812. so that a man knoweth not what they did eat in this banquet, either little or much: but we know that he that drank least, drank 58. cups of wine.  
Of this so evil custom came the Goths to make this law, which of many is read, and of few understanded, where it sayeth. We ordain and command on pain of death, that no old man drink to the others years being at the table. That was made because they were so much given to wine, that they drank more oft, then they did eat morsels. The Princes and great Lords which are now old, ought to be very sober in drinking, since they ought greatly to be regarded and honoured of the young.  
For speaking the truth, and with liberty, when the old man shallbe overcome with wine, he hath more necessity that the young man lead him by the arm to his house: then that he should take of his cap unto him or speak unto him with reverence. Also princes and great lords ought to be very circumspect, that when they become aged, they be not noted for young, in the apparel which they wear: For although that for wearing a fine and rich garment, the prince doth not enrich or enpoverishe his common wealth: yet we cannot deny, but that it doth much for the reputation of his person. For the vanity and curiosity of garments, doth show great lightness of mind. According to the variety of ages, so ought the diversity of apparel to be, which seemeth to be very clear, in that the young maids are attired in one sort, the married women of an other sort, the widows of an other. And likewise I would say, that the apparel of children ought to be of one sort, those of young men of an other, and those of old men of an other, which ought to be more honester than all.  
For men of hoary heads, ought not to be adorned with precious garments: but with virtuous works. To go cleanly, to be well appareled, and to be well accompanied, we do not forbid the old, especially those which are noble, and valiant men: but to go to fine, to go with great trains, and to go very curious, we do not allow. Let the old men pardon me, for it is not the office but of young fools: For the one showeth honesty, and the other lightness. It is a confusion to tell it, but it is greater shame to do it, that is to weet, that many old men of our time take no small felicity, to put cawls on their heads, every man to wear jewels on their necks, to lay their caps with agglettes of gold, to seek out divers inventions of metal to load their fingers with rich rings, to go perfumed with odiferous favours, to wear new fashioned apparel, and finally I say, that though their face be full of wrinkles, they can not suffer one wrinkle to be in their gown. All the ancient historiens, accuse Quintus Hottensius the Roman, for that every time when he made himself ready, he had a glass before him: and as much space and time had he to streyghten the plaites of his gown: as a woman had to trim the hears of her head. This Quintus Hortensius being Consul, going by chance one day through Rome, in a narrow street met with the other Consul, where through the straightness of the passage the plaightes of his gown wear undone: upon which occasion he complained to the senate of the other Consul, that he had done him a great injury, saying that he deserved to lose his life. The author of all this is Macrobius: in the third book of the Saturnales. I can not tell if I be deceived, but we may say, that all the curiosity that old men have to go fine, well apparelled, and clean, is for no other thing but to shake of age, and to pretend right to youth. What a grief is it to see divers ancient men, the which as ripe figs do fall: and on the other side it is a wonder to see how in their age they make themselves young. In this case I say, would to god we might see them hate vices, and not to complain of the years which they have. I pray and exhort princes and great lords, whom our sovereign lord hath permitted to come to age, that they do not despise to be aged. For speaking the truth, the man which hath envy to seem old, doth delight to live in the lightness of youth. Also man of honour ought to be very circumspect, for so much as after they are become aged, they be not suspected of their friends, but that both unto their friends & foes, they be counted faithful. For a lie in a young man's mouth, is but a lie: but in the mouth of an old man: it is a heinous blasphemy. Princes and great lords after they are become aged, of one sort they ought to use themselves to give, and of tother to speak. For good princes ought to sell words by weight, and give rewards without measure. The ancient oftentimes complain, saying, that the young will be not conversant with them: and truly if there be any fault therein, it is of themselves. And the reason is, that if sometimes they do assemble togethers to pass away the time, if the old man set a talking he never maketh an end. So that a discrete man had rather go xii miles on foot: then to hear an old man talk three hours. If with such efficacy we persuade old men, that they be honest in their apparel: for a truth we will not give them licence to be dissolute in their words, sins there is a great difference to note some man in his apparel, or to accuse him to be malicious or a bablet. For to wear rich apparel, iniuryeth few: but injurious words hurt many. Macrobius in the first book of the dreams of Scipio, declareth of a philosopher named Crito, who lived a hundredth and five years: and till fyltye years he was far out of course: Butte after he came to be aged, he was so well measured in his eating & drinking, and so ware in his speech, that they never saw him do any thing worthy reprehension: nor heard him speak word, but was worthy of noting. On this condition we would give licence to many, the till fifty years they should be young: so that from thence forth they would be clothed as old men, speak as old men & they should esteem themselves to be old. But I am sorry that all the spring time doth pass in flower, and afterwards they fall into the grave as rotten, before they find any time to pull them out. The old do complain that the young do not take their advise: and their excuse herein is, that in their words they are to long. For if a man do demand an old man his opinion in a case, immediately he will begin to say, that in the life of such, and such kings and lords of good memory, this was done, and this was provided. So that when a young man ask them counsel, how he shall behave himself with the living: the old man beginneth to declare unto him, the life of those which be dead.  
The reason why the old men desire to speak so long is that since for their age they can not see, nor go, nor eat, nor sleep, they would that all that time their members wear occupied to do their duties, all that time their tongue should be occupied to declare of their times past. All this being spoken, what more is to say I know not, but that we should content ourselves, that the old men should have their flesh as much punished: as they have their tongue with talk martyred. Though it be very vile for a young man to speak, & slander to a young man not to say the truth: yet this vice is much more to be abhorred in old princes, & other noble & worshipful men, which ought not only to think it their duty to speak truth, but also to punish the enemies thereof. For otherwise the noble and valiant knights should not lose a little of their authority, if a man saw on their heads but white hears, and in their mouths found nothing but lies.   

¶ Of a letter of the Emperor, Marcus Aurelius, to Claudius and Claudinus, reproving them being old men, for that they lived youthefullye. Cap. nineteen.  
Mark Emperor, borne in mount Celio, desireth to you my neighbours, claud and Claudine, health of your persons, and amendment of your lives. I being as I am at the conquest of Asia, and you remaining always in the pleasures of Rome, we understand your news very late, and I think our letters arrive there as late. notwithstanding to all those which go thither, I give answers for you others: and of all those which come hither, I demand of your health. And do not demand of others, how well, and how much I love you, but of your own proper hearts: and if your heart say that I am a feigned friend, than I take myself condemned. If perchance your hearts doth tell you that I love you, being true in deed that I hate you, or if I tell you that I hate you, being true that I love you: of truth I would pluck such a heart out of my body, and give it to be eaten of the beasts. For there is no greater deceit, then that which the man doth to himself. If a stranger beguile me, I ought to dissemble it: if an enemy deceive me, I ought to revenge it: if mye fryend misuse me, I ought to complain of him: but if I do deceive myself: with whom shall I comfort myself? For there is no patience that can suffer the heart to deceive himself in any thing, which he hath not deeply considered. Peradventure ye will say that I do not esteem you, and that I have not written any letter unto you of long time. To this I answer. That you do not attribute the fault to mye negligence, but to the great distance of Countries that there is from hence to Rome: & also to the great affairs of Asia, For amongst other discommodities the war hath this also, that it depriveth us of the sweet conversation of our country. I have always presumed to be yours, and at this present am at no man's pleasure, more than at yours. And sins you have always known of me, what you desired to know, I have espied in you others that, which of force I must speak. For in the end I have not seen any possess so much, to be worth so much, to know so much, nor in all things to be so mighty, but that one day he should need his poor friend. The divine Plato said, and also well, that the man which loveth with his heart, neither in absence forgetteth, neither in presence becometh negligent, neither in prosperity he is proud, nor yet in adversity abject, neither he serveth for profit, nor yet he loveth for gain: and finally he defendeth the case of his friend as his own. divers have been the opinions which the ancients held to affirm for what end friends were taken, and in the end they were fully resolved, that for .4. causes we ought to choose friends. The first we ought to have friends, to treat and be conversant with all: for according to the troubles of this life, there is no time so pleasantly consumed, as in the conversation of an assured friend. The second is, we ought to have friends to whom we may disclose the secrets of our hearts for it is much comfort to the woeful heart, to declare to his friend his doubts, if he perceive that he doth feel them in deed. The third, we ought to search and choose friends, to th'end they help us in our adversities. For little profytethe it my heart that with tears the friends do hear all that I bewail, unless afterwards in deed he will take pains to reform the same.  
The fourth, we ought to seek and preserve friends to th'end they be protectors of our goods, and likewise judges of our evils: for the good friend is no less bound to withdraw us from the vices, whereby we are slandered: then to deliver us from our enemies, by whom we may be slain. The end why I told you all this was, if that in this letter you chance to light of any sharp word, that you take it patiently, considering that the love which I bear you, doth move me to speak, and the faith which I own unto you, doth not suffer me that I should keep it close. For many things ought to be borne among friends, though they tell them in earnest: which ought not to be suffered of others, though they speak it in gest. I come therefore to show the matter, and I beseech the immortal gods that there be no more than that which was told me, and that it be less than I suspect. Gaius Furius your kinsman and my especial friend, as he went to the realm of palestine, and Jerusalem, came to see me in Antioch, and hath told me news of Italy and Rome, and among others, one above all the residue I have committed to memory, at the which I cooled not refrain laughing, and less to be troubled after I had thought of it. O how many things do we talk in gest, the which after we have well considered, give occasion to be sorry. The emperor Adrian my good lord, had a jester whose name was Belphus young, comely, and stout, allbeeit he was very malicious as such are accustomed to be: and whiles the ambassadors of German supped with the Emperor in great joy, the same Belphus beeganne to jest of every one that was present, according to his accustomed manner with a certain malicious grace. And Adrian perceiving that some changed colour, others murmured, and others wear angry, he said unto this jester, friend Belphus if thou love me and mye service, use not these spiteful jests at our supper, which being considered on, may turn us to evil rest in our beds. Gaius Furius hath told me so many slanders chanced in Italy, such novelties done in Rome, such alteration of our Senate, such contention & strife between our neighbours, such lightness of you two, that I was astonished to here it, & ashamed to writ it. And it is nothing to tell after what sort he told them unto me, unless you had seen how earnestly he spoke them, imagining that as he told them without taking any pain, so did I receive them (as he thought) with out any grief: though in deed every word that he spoke, seemed a sharp percinge arrow unto my heart. For oft times some telleth us things, as of small importance, the which do prick our hearts to the quick By the opinion of all, I understand that you are very old, and yet in your own fantasies, you seam very young. And further they say, that you apparel yourselves a new now, as though presently you came into the world: & moreover they say that you are offended with nothing so much, as when they call you old, & that in theatres where comedies are played, and in the fields where the brute beasts do run, you are not the hindmost, and that there is no sport nor lightness invented in Rome, but first is registered in your house. And finally they say that you give yourselves so to pleasures, as though you never thought to receive displeasures. O claud and Claudine, by the god jupiter I swear unto you, that I am a shamed of your unshamefastness, & am greatly abashed of your manners, and above all, I am exceedingly grieved for your great offence. For at that time that you ought to lift up your hands, you are returned again into the filth of the world Many things men commit, which though they seem grave: yet by moderation of the person that committeth them, they are made light, but speaking according to the truth, I find one reason, whereby I might excuse your lightness, but to the contrary I see ten whereby I may condemn your follies. Solon the philosopher in his laws said to the Athenians, that if the young offended, he should be gently admonished, and grievously punished, because he was strong: and if the old did err, he should be lightly punished, and sharply admonished, sith he was weak, and feeble. To this Lycurgus in his laws to the Lacedæmonians said contrary, that if the young did offend, he should be lightly punished, and grievously admonished, sins through ignorance he did err: and the old man which did evil, should be lightly admonished, and sharply punished, sins through malice he did offend. These two philosophers being (as they have been) of such authority in the world that is paste, and considering that their laws and sentences were of such weight: it should be much rashness in not admitting the one of them. Now not receiving the one, nor reproving the other, me thinketh that there is great excuse to the young for their ignorance, and great condemnation o'th' aged for their experience. Once again I return to say that you pardon me, mye friends, and you ought not greatly to weigh it, though I am somewhat sharp in condemnation, since you others are so dissolute in your lives: for of your black life, mye pen doth take ink. I remember well that I have hard of thee claud, that thou haste been lusty and courageous in thy youth: so that thy strength of all was envy, and the beauty of Claudine of all men was desired. I will not write unto you in this letter, mye friends and neigheboures, neither reduce to memory, how thou claud haste employed thy forces in the service of the common wealth: and thou Claudine hast won much honour of thy beauty: for sundry times it chanced, that men of many goodly gifts, are noted of grievous offences. Those which strived with thee are all dead, those whom thou desiredst are dead, those which served thee Claudine are dead, those which before thee Claudine sighed, are dead: those which for thee died, are now dead: and sins all those are dead with their lightness, do not you others think to die, & your follies also? I demand now of thy youth one thing, and of thy beauty another thing, what do you receive of these pastimes, of these good interteinmentes, of these abundances, of these great contentations, of the pleasures of the world, of the vanity that is paste, and what hope you of all these to carry into the narrow grave? O simple, simple, and ignorant persons, how our life consumeth, and we perceive not how we live therein. For it is no felicity to enjoy a short, or long life: but to know to employ the same well, or evil. O children of the earth, and disciples of vanity, now you know that time flyethe without moving his wings, the life goeth without lifting up his feet, the world dispatcheth us not telling us the cause, men beegile us not moving their lips, our flesh consumeth to us unwares, the heart dieth having no remedy, & finally our glory decayeth as if it had never been, and death oppresseth us without knocking at the door. Though a man be never so simple, or so very a fool: yet he can not denay, but it is impossible to make a fire in the bottom of the sea, to make a way in the air, of the thin blood to make rough sinews, and of the soft veins to make hard bones. I mean that it is unpossible, that the green flower of youth, be not one day withered by age.   

¶ The Emperor followeth his letter & persuadeth Claudins & Claudinus being now old, to give no more credit to the world, nor to any of his deceitful flatteries. Cap. xx.  
THat which I have spoken now, tendeth more to advertise the young, then to teach the old. For you others have now passed the prime time of childhood, the summer of youth, and the harvest of adolescency, and are in the winter of age, where it seemeth an uncomely thing, that those yoverhoarye hears, should be accompanied with such vain follies. Sithence young men know not that they have to end their youth, it is no marvel that they follow the world: but the old men which see them selves fall into this guile, why will they run after vices again? O world, for that thou art the world, so small is our force, and so great our debylitie, that thou willing it, and we not resisting it, thou dost swallow us up in the most perilous gulf, and in the thorns most sharp thou dost prick us: by the pryviest ways thou leadest us, and by the most stony ways thou caryest us. I mean that thou bringest us to the highest favours, to the end that afterwards with a push of thy pike thou mightest overthrow us. O world, wherein all is worldly, two and thirty years have passed since in thee I was first borne, during which time thou never toldest me one truth: but I have taken thee with ten thousaund lies. I never demanded the thing but thou didst promise it me, and yet it is nothing at all that ever thou didst perform. I never put my trust in thee, but ever thou begildst me. I never came to thee, but thou didst undo me, finally never saw I ought in thee whereby thou deservest love, but always hatred. This presupposed, I know not what is in thee O world, or what we worldlings want: for if thou hatest us, we cannot hate thee, if thou dost us injury, we can dissemble it, if thou spurn us with thy feet, we will suffer it, if thou beatest us with a staff, we will hold our peace, also although thou ꝑsecutest us, we will not complain, though thou take ours, we will not demand it of thee, though thou dost beeguyle us, we will not call ourselves beeguyled, and the worst of all is, that thou dost chase us from thy house, yet we will not departed from thence. I know not what this meaneth, I know not from whence this cometh, I wore not who ought to praise this same, that we covet to follow the world, which will none of us, & hate the gods which love us: oft times I make account of my years past, sometimes also I turn & toss my book to see what I have read, and another time I desire my friends to give me good counsel: and for no other end I do it, then to attain to that I have spoken, & to know that I will say. I reading Rethoryk in Rhodes, Adrian my lord maintaining me there, knowing that I was two and thirty years of age, it happened, that in the spring time I found myself solitarily, and solitariness with liberty smelled the world, and smelling it, I knew it, and knowing it, I followed it, and following it, I attained unto it, and attaining unto it, thereunto I joined myself, and joining myself therewith, I proved it, and in proving it, I tasted it, and in tasting it me thought it bitter, and in finding it bitter I hated it, and hating it I left it, and leaving it is returned, and being returned, I received it again: finally the world invyting me, and I not resisting it two and thirty years we did eat our bread togethers, & in one house we have always remained, wilt thou know after what sort the world & I do live in one house togethers, or better to say, in one heart remain? hearken them, & in one word I will tell it thee. When I saw the world brave, I served him, when he saw me sad, he flattered me, when I saw him wealthy, I asked him, when he saw me merry, he beguiled me, when I desired any thing, he holp me to attain to it, & afterwards when the same I best enjoyed, than he took it from me, when he saw me not pleased, he visited me, when he saw me, he forgot me, when he saw me overthrown, he gave me his hand to relieve me, when he saw me exalted, he tripped me again to overthrow me. Finally, when I think that I have somewhat in the world, I find that all that I have is a burden. If this which I have spoken of the world be any thing, more is that a great deal which yet of myself I will say, which is, that without doubt my folly is greater, than his malice, since I am beguiled so oft, and yet always I follow the deceiver O world, world, thou hast such moods and fashions in thy proceeding, that thou leadest us all to perdition. Of one thing I marvel much, whereof I cannot be satisfied. Which is, since that we may go upon the bridge, & yet without any gain we do wade through the water, & where as the shallow is sure, we seek to run into the golf, and where the way is dry, we go into the plash, where we may eat wholesome meats to nourish the life, we receive poison to hasten death, we seek to destroy ourselves, where as we may be without danger. finally I say, without profit we commit a fault, though we see with our eyes the pain to follow. Wise men ought circumspectly to see what they do, to examine that they speak, to prove that they take in hand to beware whose company they use, and above all, to know whom they trust. For our judgement is so corrupt, that to beguile us, one is enough: and to make us not to be deceived, ten thosande would not suffice. They have so great care of us, I mean the world to beegile us, and the flesh to flatter us, that the high way being as it is narrow, the patheway dangerous, and full of pricks, the journey is long, & the life short: our bodies are never but laden with vices, & our hearts but full of cares. I have wondered at divers things in this world, but that which astonieth me most is, that those that be good, we make them believe they are evil: and those which are evil, we persuade others to believe that they are good. So that we shoot at the white of virtues, & hit the butt of vices. I will confess one thing, the which being disclosed, I know that infamy will follow me, but peradventure some virtuous man will marvel at it, that is, that in those two and fifty years of my life, I have proved all the vices of this world, for no other intent, but for to prove if there be any thing, where in man's malice might be satisfied. And afterwards, all well considered, all examined, and all proved, I find, that the more I eat, the more I die for hunger, the more I drink, the greater thirst I have, the more I rest, the more I am broken, the more I sleep, the more drousier I am, the more I have, the more I covet, the more I desire, the more I am tormented, the more I procure, the less I attain. Finally I never had so great pain through want, but afterward I had more trouble with excess. It is a great folly to think that as long as a man liveth in this flesh, that he can satisfy the flesh: for at the last cast she may take from us our life, but we others can not take from her her disordinate covetousness. If men did speak with the gods, or the gods were conversant with men, the first thing that I would ask them should be, why they have appointed an end to our woeful days: and will not give us an end of our wicked desires? O cruel Gods, what is it you do? or what do you suffer us? it is certain, that we shall not pass one good day of life only, but in tasting this, and that, life consumeth. O intolerable life of man, wherein there are such malices from the which we ought to beware, and such perils to fall in, and also so many things to consider, that then both she and we do end to know ourselves when the hour of death approacheth. Let those know that know not, that the world taketh our will, and we others like ignorants cannot denay it him, and afterwards having power of our will, doth constrain us to that which we would not: so that many times we would do virtuous works, and for that we are now put into the worlds hands, we dare not do it. The world useth another subtlety with us, that to the end we should not strive with it, it praiseth the times past, because we should live according to the time present. And the world saith further, that if we others employ our forces in his vices, he giveth us licence that we have a good desire of virtue. O would to god in my days I might see, that the care which the world hath to preserve us, the wordlyng would take it to withdraw them from his vices. I swear that the gods should then have more servants and the world and the flesh should not have so many slaves.   

¶ The Emperor proceedeth in his letter, & proveth by good reasons, that sith the aged persons will be served and honoured of the young: they ought to be more virtuous and honest than the young. Cap. xxi.  
I Have spoken all this before rehearsed, for occasion of you claud, and Claudine, the which at .3. score and 10. years will not keep out of the prison of the world: You I say, which have your bodies weak and corrupted, what hope shalt we have of young men which are but .25. years of age? if my memory deceive me not, when I was there, you had nephews married, and of their children made sure, and two of the children borne: and since that is true, me thinketh when the fruit is gathered, the leaf is of no value, and after the meal is taken from the mill, evil shall the mil grind.  
I mean, that the old man ought to desire, that his days might be shortened in this world. Do not think my friends, that a man can have his house full of nephews, and yet say that he is very young? for in lodinge the tree with fruits, the blossoms immediately fall, or else they become withered. I have imagined with myself, what it is that you might do to seem young, and cut of some of your years: and in the end I know no other reason, but when you married Alamberta your daughter with Drusus, and your near Sophia the fair, with Tuscidan, which were so young, that the daughters were scarce, 15. years old, nor the young men .20. I suppose because you were rich of years, and poor of money, that he gave to every on of them in steed of money for dowry, 20. years of yours, hereof a man may gather, that the money of your nephews have remained unto you, and you have given unto them of your own years: I understand my friends, that your desire is to be young, and very young, but I greatly desire, to see you old, and very old. I do not mean in years, which in you doth surmount: but in discretion, which in you doth want. O Claud & Claudine, note that which I will say unto you, and bear it always in your memory. I let you weet, that to maintain youth, to deface age, to live contented, to be free from travails, to lengthen life, and to avoid death: these things are not in the hands of men which do desire them, but rather in the hands of those which giveth them the which according to their justice, and not to our covetousness, do give us life by weight, and death without measure. One thing the old men do, which is cause of slandering many, that is, that they will speak first in counsels, they will be served of the young in feasts, they will be first placed, in all that they say they will be believed, in churches they will be higher than the residue, in distributing of offices they will have the most honour, in there opinions they will not be gain said, finally, they will have the credit of old sage men, and yet they will lead the life of young doting fools. All these premynences and privileges, it is very just that old men should have spent their years in the service of the common wealth: but with this I do advise and require them, that the authority given them with their white hears, be not dyminyshed by their evil works.  
Is it a just thing, that the humble and honest young man do reverence, to the aged man proud, and dysdaynefull? is it a just thing, that the gentle and gracious young man do reverence, to the envious, and malicious old man? is it a just thing, that the virtuous, and patient young man do reverence, to the foolish, and unpacyente old man? is it a just thing, that the stout and liberal young man do reverence, to the miserable, and covetous old man? is it just, that the diligent and careful young man do reverence, to the negligent old man? Is it just that the abstynent and sober young man do reverence, to the greedy, and gluttonous old man? Is it just, that the chaste, and continent young man do reverence, to the lecherous, and dissolute old man? Me thinketh these things should not be such, that thereby the old man should be honoured: but rather reproved, and punished. For old men offend more, by the evil example they give, then by the fault which they do commit. Thou canst not denay me, my friend claud, that it is thirty and three years sith we both were at the Theathers to behold a play, when thou camest late, and found no place for thee to sit in, thou sayedst unto me who was set, rise my son Mark, and sithence now thou art young, it is but just that thou give me place which am aged. If it be true, that it is xxxiii. years sithence thou askedst place in the theathers as and old man, tell me I pray thee, and also I conjure thee, with what ointment hast thou anointed thyself, or with what water hast thou washed thyself to become young? O claud, if thou hadst found any medicine, or discovered any herb, where with thou couldst take white hears from men's heads and from women the wrinkles of their face: I swear unto thee and also I do assure thee, that thou shooldest be more visited and served in Rome, than the god Apollo is in his Temple at Ephesus. Thou shouldest well remember Annius priscus the old man, which was our neighbour, and somewhat a kin to thee, the which when I told him that I could not be filled with his good words, and to behold his ancient white hears, he said unto me. O my soon Mark, it appeareth well that thou hast not been aged because thou talkest as a young man: for if white hears do honour the person, they greatly hurt the heart. For at that hour when they see us aged, the strangers do hate us, & ours do not love us. And he told me more, I let the weet my son Mark, that many times my wife, and I talking of the years of another particularly, when she beholdeth me, and that I seem unto her so aged, I say unto her, and swear that I am yet young, and that the white hears came unto me by great travails, and the age by sickness. I do remember also, that this Annius Priscus was senator one year: and because he would not seem aged, but desired that men should judge him too be young: he shaved his beard and his head, which was not accustomed among the senators nor censors of Rome. And as one day amongst the other Senators he entered into the high Capitolle, one said unto him. Tell me man, from whence comest thou? What wilt thou? and why comest thou hither? how durst thou being no senator enter into the Senate? he answered. I am Annius priscus the aged, how chanceth it that now you have not known me? they replied unto him, if thou wert Annius Priscus thou wouldest not come thus shaven. For in this sacred senate can none enter to govern the common wealth: unless his parson be endued with virtues, and his head with white hears, and therefore thou art banished and deprived of thy office. For the old which live as the young, aught to be punished. Thou knowest well claud, and Claudine, that that which I have spoken, is not the feigning of Homer, neither a fable of ovid, but that you yourselves saw it with your eyes, and in his banishment I did help him with money, and more over he was banished another time for the lightness he did commit in the night in the city, and I marvel not hereof: for we see by experience, that old men which are fleashed in vices, are more obstinate to correct then the young. O what evil fortune have the old men, which suffered themselves too wax old in vices: for more dangerous is the fire in an old house, then in a new, and a great cut of a sword is not so perilous, as a rotten fistule. Though old men were not honest and virtuous, for the service of the gods and the common wealth, for the saying of the people, nor for the example of the young: yet he ought to be honest, if it wear but for the reverence of their years. If the poor old man have no teeth, how shall he eat? If he have no heat in his stomach, how can he digest? If he have no taste, how can he drink? if he be not strong, how can he be an adulterer? If he have no feet, how can he go? If he have the palsy, how can he speak? if he have the gout in his hands how can he play. Finally, such like wordly and vicious men, have employed their forces being young, desirous to prove all these vices: and when they are old it grieveth them extremely that they can not as yet accompplishe their desires.  
Amongst all the faults in old men (in my opinion) this is the chiefest, that since they have proved all things, that they should still remain in their obstinate folly. There is no part but they have travailed, no villainy but they have assayed, no fortune but they have proved, no good but they have persecuted, no evil but hath chanced unto them, nor there is any vice but they have attempted. These unhappy men which in this sort have spent all their youth, have in the end their combs cut with infirmities, & diseases: yet they are not somuch grieved with the vices (which in them do abound) to hinder them from virtues, as they are tormented for want of corporal courage, to further them in their lusts. O if we were gods, or that they would give us licence to know the thoughts of the old, as we see with our eyes the deeds of the young I swear: to the God Mars, and also to the mother Berecinthe, that without comparison, we would punish more the wicked desires which the aged have to be wicked: then the light deeds of the young. Tell me claud, and thou Claudine, do you think though you behave yourselves as young, you shall not seem to be old? know you not that our nature is the corruption of our body, and that our body hindereth our understandings, and that the understandyngs are kept of our soul, & that our soul is the mother of desires & that our desires are the scourge of our youth, & that our youth, is the ensign of our age & age the spy of death, & that death in the end is the house where life taketh his herber, and from whence youth flieth a foot, and from whence age can not escape a horseback? I would rejoice that you claud, and Claudine, would tell me what you find in life that so much therewith you should be contented: since now you have passed four score years of life, during the which time either you have been wicked in the world, or else you have been good. If you have been good, you ought to think it long until you be with the good gods: if you have been evil, it is just you die, to the end you be no worse. For speaking the truth, those which in .3. score & 10 years have been wicked in works, leave small hope of their amendment of life. Adrian my lord, being at Nola in Campania, one brought unto him a nephew of his from the study, where as the young child had not profited a little: for he became a great Grecian and latinest, and more over he was fair, gracious, wise & honest. And this Emperor Adrian loved his nephew so much, that he said unto him these words My nephew, I know not whither I ought to say unto thee, that thou art good, or evil: for if thou be evil, life shallbe evil employed on thee, and if thou be good, thou oughtest to die immediately, and because I am woors than all, I live longer than all. These words which Adrian my lord said, do plainly declare and express, that in short space the pale and cruel death doth assault the good, and lengtheneth life a great while to the evil. The opinion of a philosopher was, that the gods are so profound in their secrets, high in their mysteries, and so just in their works, that to men which least profit the common wealth, they lengthen life longest: and though he had not said it, we others see it by experience. For the man which is good, and that beareth great zeal and friendship to the common wealth, either the gods take him from us, or the enemies do slay him, or the dangers do cast him away, or the the travails do finish him. When great Pompeius & julius Cesar became enemies, & from that enmity came to cruel wars, the chronicles of that time declare, that the kings and people of the occidental part became in the favour of julius Cesar, and the mightiest & most puisaunte of all the oriental parts, came in the aid of great Pompeius, because these two Princes were loved of few, and served and feared of al. Amongst the diversity and sundry nations of people, which came out of the oriental part, into the host of the great Pompeius, one nation came marvelous cruel & barbarous, which said they dwelled in the other side of the mountains Riphees, which go unto India. And these barbarous had a custom, not to live no longer than fifty years: & therefore when they came to that age, they made a greater fire and were burned therein alive, and of their own wills they sacrificed themselves to the gods. Let no man be astoined at that we have spoken but rather let them marvel of that we will speak (that is to say) that the same day that any man had accomplished fifty years, immediately he cast himself quick in to the fire, and the parents, children, and his friends, made a great feast. And the feast was, that they did eat the flesh of the dead half burned, and drank in wine and water the ashes of his bones: so that the stomach of the children being alive, was the grave of the father's being dead. All this that I have spoken with my tongue, Pompeius hath seen with his eyes for that some being in the camp did accomplish fifty years, & because the case was strange, he declared it oft times in the Senate. Let every man judge in this case what he will, and condemn the barbarous at his pleasure, yet I will not cease too say what I think. O golden world, which had such men. O blessed people, of whom in the world to come shallbe a perpetual memory. What contempt of world? what forgetfulness of himself? what stroke of fortune? what whip for the flesh? what little regard of life? O what bridle for the veruous? O what confusion for those that love life? O how great example have they left us, not to fear death? Sithence those heeare have willingly despised their own lives, it is not to be thought that they died to take the goods of others, neither to think that our life should never have end, nor our covetousness in like manner. O glorious people, and .10. thousand sold happy, that the proper sensuallyty being forsaken, hath overcome the natural appetite to desire to live, not believing in that they saw, and that having faith in that they never saw, they strived with the fatal destinies. By the way they assaulted fortune they, changed life for death, they offered the body to death, and above all have won honour with the gods, not for that they should hasten death, but because they should take away that which is superfluus of life. Archagent a surgeon of Rome, and Antonius Musus, a physician of the Emperor Augustus, and Esculapius father of the physic, should get little money in that country. He that then should have sent to the barbarous to have done as the Romans at that time did, that is to weet, to take siroppes in the mornings, pylls at night, to drink milk in the morning, to anoint themselves with gromelsede, to be let blood to day, and purged to morrow, to eat of one thing, and to abstain from many: a man ought to think, that he which willingly seeketh death will not give money to lengthen life.   

¶ The Emperor concludeth his letter, and showeth what perils those old men live in which dissolutely like young children pass their days, and giveth unto them wholesome counsel for the remedy thereof. Cap. xxii.  
But returning now to thee claud, & to thee Claudine me thinketh, that these barbarous being fifty years of age, and you others having above three score and 10. it should be just, that sithence you were elder in years you were equal in virtue, and though (as they) you will not accept death patiently: yet at the least you ought to amend your evil lives willingly. I do remember, that it is many years sithence that Fabritius the young, son of Fabritius the old, had ordained to have deceived me, of the which if you had not told me, great inconveniences had happened: and sithence that you did me so great a benefit, I would now requite you the same with an other like. For amongst friends there is no equal benefit, then to deceive the deceiver. I let you know, if you do not know it, that you are poor aged folks, your eyes are soonk into your heads, the nostrils are shut, the hears are white, the hearing is lost, the tongue faltreth, the teeth fall, the face is wrincled, the feet swollen, & the stomach cold. Finally I say, that if the grave could speak, as unto his subjects, by justice he might command you to inhabit his house. It is great pity of the young men, and of their youthful ignorant, for then unto such their eyes are not opened, to know the mishaps of this miserable life, when cruel death doth end their days, and adiorneth them to the grave. Plato in his book of the common wealth said, that in vain we give good counsels, to fond & light youngmen. For youth is without experience of that it knoweth, suspicious of that it heareth, incredible of that is told him, despising the counsel of an other, and very poor of his own. Forsomuch as this is true that I tell you claud, and Claudine, that without comparison, the ignorance which the young have of the good is not so much: but the obstination which the old hath in the evil is more. For the mortal gods many times do dissemble with a .1000. offeces committed by ignorance, but they never forgive the offence perpetrated by malice. O claud, and Claudine, I do not marvel that you do forget the gods (as you do) which created you, and your fathers, which beegot you and your parents, which have loved you and your friends, which have honoured you: but that which most I marvel at is, that you forget yourselves. For you never consider what you ought to be, until such time as you be there where you would not be, and that without power to return back again. Awake, awake, since you are drowned in your dreams, open your eyes since you sleep so much, accustom yourselves to travels, sithence you are vacabonds, learn that which behoveth you sithence now you are so old. I mean, that in time convenient you agree with death, before he make execution of life .52. years have I known the things of the world, & yet I never saw a woman so aged through years, nor old man with members so feeble, that for want of strength could not (if they list) do good: nor yet for the same occasion should leave to be evil if they list to be evil. It is a marvelous thing to see, and worthy to note that all the corporal members of man waxeth old, but the inward heart, and the outward tongue: for the heart is always green to invent evils, & the tongue is always able to tell lies. My opinion should be that the pleasant summer being past, you should prepare yourselves for the untemperate winter which is at hand. And if you have but few days to continue, you should make haste to take up your lodging. I mean that sith you have passed the days of your life with travel, you should prepare yourselves against the night of death, to be in the haven of rest. Let mockries pass as mockries, and accept truth as truth, that is to weet, that it were a very just thing, and also for your honour necessary, that all those which in times past have seen you young & foolish, should now in your age, see you grave and sage. For there is nothing that so much forgetteth the lightness and folly of the youth, as doth gravity and constancy in age. When the knight runneth his carire, they blame him not for that the horse main is not finely commed: but at the end of his race he should see his horse amended and looked to▪ what greater confusion can be to any parson, or greater slander to our mother Rome, then to see that which now adays therein we see that is to weet, the old which can scarcely creap through the streets, to behold the plays and games as young men, which search nought else but pomp and vanity. It grieveth me to speak it, but I am much more ashamed to see, that the old romans do daily cause the white hears to be plucked out of their heads because they would not seem old, to make their beard small to seem young, wearing their hosen very close, their sherts open before, the gown of the senator embroidered, the roman sign richly enamelled, the collar of gold at the neck, as those of Dace. Fringes in their gowns, as those of sapphire, hoops in their hats, as the Greeks, and pearls on their fingers, as those of India. What wilt thou I tell thee more, than I have told thee, but that they wear their gowns long and large, as those of Tharenthe, and they wear them of the colour as men of war, and every week they have change as players, and the worst of all is, that they show themselves as doting in love now in their age, as others have done heretofore in their youth. That old men are overcome by young desires, I do not marvel, for that brutish lust is as natural, as the daily food: but the old men (being old men) should be so dissolute, herewith men justly aught to be offended. For the old men covetous, and of flesh vicious, both offend the gods, and slander the common wealth. O how many I have known in Rome, who in their youth have been highly praised and: esteemed and afterwards through giving themself to very much lightness in their age, have been of all abhorred. And the worst of all is, that they have lost all their credit, their parents, their favour, and their poor innocent children their profit. For many times the gods permit, that the father's committing th'offence, the pain should fall upon their own children. The renowned Gaguino Cato, who descended from the high lineage of the sage Cato's, was five years' Flamen priest, & administrator to the vestal virgins, three years' praetor, two years' Censor, one year dictator, and five times Consul, being .75. years' old, he gave himself to follow, serve, and to desire Rosana, the daughter of Gneus Cursius, a lady of troth very young and fair, and of many desired, and much made of: time afterwards passing away, and god Cupid doing his office, the love was so kindled inwardly in the heart of this old man, that he ran almost mad: So that after he had consumed all his goods in serving her daily he sighed, and nightely he wept, only for to see her. It chanced that the said Rosana ●el sick of a burning ague, wherewith she was so distempered, that she could eat no meat but desired greatly to eat grapes: and sithence there were none ripe at Rome, Gaguino Cato sent to the river of Rhine to fetch some being far and many miles distant from thence. And when the thing was spread through Rome, & that all the people knew it and the senate understanding the folly of him: the fathers commanded that Rosana should be locked up with the vestal virgins, & the old man banished Rome for ever, to the end that to them it should be a punishment, & to others an example. Truly it grieved me sore to see it, & also I had great pains in writing it. For I saw the father die in infamy, & his children live in poverty, I believe that all those which shall hear this example. & all those which shall read this writing, shall find the fact of this amorous old man, both vile and filthy, and they will allow the sentence of the senate which they gave against him for good and just. I swear that if Gaguino Cato had had as many young men in his banishment as he left old men lovers that followed his example in Rome, there should not be cast away so many men, neither so many women evil married. It chanceth oft times, that when the old men (specially being noble, and valiant) are advertised of their servants, are rebuked of their parents, are prayed of their friends, & accused of their enemies to be dishonest in such a place they answer, that they are not in love, but in jest. When I was very young no less in wisdom, than in age, one night in the Capitol I met with a neighbour of mine, the which was so old, that he might have taken me for his nephiew, to whom I said these words. Lord Fabricus, are you also in love? he answered me. You see that my age suffereth me not that I should be a lover if I should be, it is but in sport.  
Truly I marveled to meet him at that hour, and I was ashamed to have such an answer. In old men of great age, and gravity, such request can not be called love, but grief, not pastime, but loss of time, not mockery, but villainy: for of love in jest, ensueth infamy in deed. I ask you claud, and Claudine, what a thing is it to see an old man to be in love? truly it is no other, but as a garland before the tavern doors, where all men think that there is wine, and they sell nought else but vinegar. They are eggs white without, and rotten within, they are golden pills, the taste whereof are very bitter, and as empty boxes in shops, which have new writings on them, or as a new gate, and with in the house is full of filth and cobwebs: finally the old lover is a knight of Exchetes, which helpeth to lose money, and can deliver no man from peril. Let this word be noted, and always in your memory committed, that the old man which is vicious, is but as a leek which hath the head white, & the tail green. Me thinketh that you ought to break the wings of time, since that you have feathers to fly withal. Deceive not yourself nor your friends and neighbours, saying that there is time for all. For the amendment is in your hands, but time is in the hands of god to dispose. Let us come now to remedy this great damage, do what you can by the day of youth, and defer it not until the night of age: for ill cutteth the knife, when the edge thereof is dulled, and ill can he knaw the bones which is accustomed to eat the flesh. I tell you, and advertise you that when the old and rotten houses beeginneth to fall, under set not them with rotten wood, but with hard timber. I mean, with the upright thoughts of accounts, which we ought to give to the gods of our life, and to men of our renown. Forth I say, that if the vine be gathered of our virtues, we ought to graff again the amendment: and if the shreds of our gatherings be dry and withered, through our perverse works, we ought to set them again with new mould and good desires. The gods are so gentle to serve, and so good to content, that if for all the services we owe them, and for the gifts which they give us, we can not pay them in good works: they demand no more in payment but good wills. Finally I say, that if thou claud, and Claudine, have offered the meal of youth to the world, offer now the blood of age to the gods. I have written longer than I had thought to do. Salute all my neighbours specially Drusio the patrician, and noble Roman widow. I remember that Gobrine your niece did me a pleasure, the day of the feast of the mother Berecinthia, wherefore I sand 2. thou sand Sesterces, one thousand to help to marry her: and the other thousand, to help to relive your poverty. My wife Faustine is sick, and I send you another .1000. Sesterces to give to the vestal virgins, to pray to the gods for her. My wife sendeth to thee Claudine a coffer, by the immortal gods I swear unto thee, I can not tell what is in it, I beseech the gods, sithence you are aged, to give you a good death, and to me & Faustine, they suffer us to lead a good life. Marcus of mount Celio with his own hand writeth this.   

¶ Princes aught to take heed that they be not noted of avarice, for that the coveious man is both of god and man hated. Cap. xxiii  
THe great Alexander king of Macedony, and Darius the unfortunate king of the Persyes, were not only contrary in wars and conquests, which they made but also in the conditions and inclinations which they had. For Alexander naturally loved to give and spend: and Darius to the contrary, to heap, lock, & keep. When the fame of Alexander was spread abroad through out all the world, to be a prince of honour, and not covetous, his own loved him entirely, and strangers desired to serve him faithfully, The miserable king Darius, as he was noted of great avarice and of small liberality, so his did disobey him, and strangers hated him. Whereof may be gathered that princes and great lords by giving, do make themselves rich: & in keeping, they make themselves poor. plutarch in his apothegms declareth, that after king Darius was, dead & Alexander had triumphed over all the oriental parts, a man of Thebes being in the market place of Athenes setting forth the fortune of Alexander, for the sundry countries which he had conquered: and describing the evil fortune of Darius, for the great number of men which he had lost, a philosopher with a loud voice said. O man of Thebes thou art greatly deceived, to think that one prince loseth many signories: and that the other Prince winneth many realms. For Alexander the great wan nought but stones, and coverings of cities: for with his liberality he had already gotten the good wills of the cite sins, And to the contrary, the unfortunate Darius did not lose but stones, and the covertures of cities, for with his covetousness and avarice he had now lost all the hearts of those of Asia. And farther this philosopher said unto him, that princes which will enlarge their estates, and amplify their realms in their conquests, ought first to win the hearts, & to be noble, and liberal: and afterwards to send their armies to conquer the forts, and walls, for otherwise little availeth it to win the stones if the hearts do rebel. Whereby a man may gather, that that which Alexander won, he won by liberality and stoutness: and that which king Darius lost, he lost for being miserable, and covetous. And let us not marvel hereat, for the princes & great lords which are overcome with avarice, I doubt whither they ever shall see themselves conquerors of many realms. The vice of avarice is so detestable, so evil, so odious, & so perilous, that if a man should employ him self to write all the discommodites thereunto belonging, my pen should do nought else, then to presume to dry up all the water in the sea: For the stomach where avarice entereth, causeth a man to serve vices, & worship Idols. If a virtuous man would prepare himself to think on the great travail, and little rest that this cursed vice beareth with him, I think that none would be vicious therein. Though the covetous man had no other travail, but always to go to bed with danger, and to rise up with care: Methinketh it is a trouble sufficient for such one when he goeth to bed, thinketh that he should be killed in his bed, or that sleeping his coffers should be rifled: and from that time he riseth, he is always tormented with fear to lose that which he hath won, and careful to augment that little in to much. The divine Plato in the first book of his common wealth said these words, the men be made rich, because they never learned to be rich: for he which continually, and truly will become rich, first ought to abhor covetousness, before he begin to occupy himself to lock up goods. For the man which setteth no bond to his desire shall always have little though he see himself lord of the world. Truly this sentence was worthily spoken of such a man. The sentence of the Stoyckes' doth satisfy my mind much, whereof Aristotel in his politics maketh mention, where he saith, that unto great affairs, are always required great riches: & there is no extreme poverty, but where there hath been great abundance. Thereof ensueth, that to princes and great lords which have much, they want much, because to men which have had little, they can not want but little. If we admonish worldlings not to be vicious, they will always have excuses to excuse themselves, declaring why they have been vicious: the vice of avarice excepted, to whom and with whom they have no excuse. For if one vain reason be ready to excuse then, there are .2000. to condemn them. Let us put example in all the principal vices, and we shall see how this only of avarice, remaineth condemned, and not excused. If we reason why a prince or great lord is haulty and proud, he will answer that he hath great occasion. For the natural disposition of men is, rather to desire to command with travail, then to serve with rest. If we reprove any man that is furious, and given to anger: he will answer us, that we marvel not, since we marvel not of the proud: For the enemy hath no more authority to trouble any man, than the other to take revenge of him. If we blame him for that he is fleshly and vicious, he will answer us, that he can not abstain from that sin: for if any man can eschew the acts he fighteth continually with unclean thoughts. If we say that any man is negligent, he will answer us, that he deserveth not to be blamed: for the vileness of our nature is such, that if we do travail it, immediately it is weary and if we rest it, immediately it rejoiceth: If we rebuke any man that is a glutton, he will answer us, that without eating and drinking we can not live in the world: for the divine word hath not forbidden man to eat with the mouth, but the unclean thoughts which come from the heart. As of these few vices we have declared, so may we excuse all the reasidue: but to the vice of covetousness, none can give a reasonable excuse. For with money put into the coffer, the soul cannot profit, nor the body rejoice. Boetius in his book of consolation said, that money is good, not when we have it in possession, but when we want it, & in very deed the sentence of Boetius is very profound: for when man spendeth money, he attaineth to that he will, but having it with him, it profiteth him nothing. We may say of rich and covetous men, that if they heap and keep, they say it is but for dear and dry years, and to relieve their parents & friends. We may answer them, that they do not heap up to remedy the poor in such like necessities, but rather to bring the commonwealth to greater poverty. For than they sell all things dear, and put out their money to great usury: so that this covetous man doth more harm with that he doth lend them, than the dry year doth with that it hath taken from them. The noble and virtuous men ought not to cease to do well, for fear of dry years: for in the end if one dear year come it maketh all dear, and at such a time, and in such a case, he only may be called happy, which for being free and liberal in alms, shall rejoice that his table should be costly. Let covetous men beware, that for keeping of much goods, they give not to the devil their souls: for it may be that before the dear year cometh to sell their corn, their bodies shallbe laid in the grave. O what good doth god to the noble men, giving them liberal hearts: and what ill luck have covetous men (having as they have) their hearts so hard laced. For if covetous men did taste how sweet and necessary a thing it is to give: they could keep little for themselves. Now sithence the miserable and covetous men have not the heart to give to their friends, too depart to their parents, to secure the poor, to lend to their neighbours, nor to sustain the orphans, it is to be thought that they will spend it on themselves. Truly I say no more, for there are men so miserable, and so hard of that they have, that they think that as evil spent, which among themselves they spend: as that which one robbeth from them of their goods. How will the covetous and miserable wretch give a garment to a naked man, which dare not make himself a cote? How will he give to eat to the poor familiar, which as a poor slave eateth the bread of bran, and sellethe the flower of meal? How shall the pilgrims lodge in his house, who, for pure misery dare not enter? and how doth he visit the hospital, and relive the sick, that oft times hasardeth his own health and life, for that he will not give one penny to the physician? how shall he secure secretly the poor and needy, which maketh his own children go barefoot, and naked? how can he help to mary the poor maids being orphans, when he suffereth his own daughters to wax old in his house? how will he give of his goods to the poor captives, which will not pay his own men their wages? how will he give to eat to the children of poor gentlemen, which always grudgeth at that his own spend? how should we believe that he will apparel a widow, hwich will not give his own wife a hood? how doth he daily give alms, which goeth not to the church on the Sunday because he will not offer one penny? how shall the covetous man rejoice the heart, sith for spending of one penny, oft times he goeth supperless to bed? And finally I say, that he will never give us of his own proper goods, which weapeth always for the goods of an other.   

¶ The auctor followeth his matter, and with great reasons discommendeth the vices of covetous men. Cap. xxiiii.  
ONe of the things wherein the divine providence showeth, that we do not understand the manner of her government, is to see that she giveth understanding too a man too know the riches, she giveth him force too seek them, subtlety too gather them, virtue too sustain them, courage too defend them, and also long life to possess them. And with all this she giveth him not licence to enjoy them, but rather suffereth him, that as without reason he hath made himself lord of another man's, of right he should be made slave of his own: thereby a man may know, of how greater excellency virtuous poverty is, than the outrageous covetousness: for so much as to the poor, god doth give contentation of that little he hath, and from the rich man he taketh contentation of the great deal he possesseth. So that to the covetous man we see troubles increase hourly: and the gain cometh unto him but monthly. Let us compare the rich and covetous man to the poor potter, and we shall see who shall profit most, either the potter with his pots that he maketh of earth, or else the covetous with the money which he hath in the earth. Though I make no answer to this, yet answer herein hath been already made, that the one is much better at ease with the earth, than the other is with the good. For the potter getteth his living by selling pots, and the covetous man loseth his soul by keeping riches. I humbly require the high princes, and also I beseech the great lords, & further I admonish the other nobles, and Plebeiens, always to have this word in memory, I say, and affirm that the more strongly the man keepeth, and locketh his treasures: the more strongly, and privily is he kept: for if he put two keys to keep his treasure he putteth seven to his heart not to spend them. Let the noble and valiant men beware, that they give not their minds to heap up treasures: for if once their hearts be kindled with covetousness, for fear of spending a halfpenny, they will daily suffer themselves to fall into a thousand miseries. The Plebeiens which are very rich may say, that they have not heaped up much treasures, sithence they can not behold a hundred, or two hundred duccates. To this I answer that the estates considered, ten duccates do as much harm to a treasurer, as to others ten thousand. For the fault consisteth not in keeping, or hiding (much or little) riches: but for so much as in keeping them, we cease to do many good works. To me it is a strange matter, that niggardliness hath greater force to the covetous, than conscience hath in others. For there are many, which notwithstanding conscience, do profit with the goods of others: and the covetous having more misery than conscience, cannot yet profit with their own. With much care and no small diligence the covetous men do provide that the millers do not rob the meal, that their beasts make no wastes that the hunters run not through the corn, that their wine perish not, that those which own them any thing, do not go & make themselves bank routs, that wynetts do not eat their corn, and that thieves rob not their goods: but in the end they watch none so well, as themselves. For all the others (erely, or late) have always opportunity to rob from them somewhat: but the covetous hath never the heart to change a duccate. Men ought to take great pity of a covetous man, who by his own will, & not of necessity, weareth his gown all to torn, his shoes out, his points without aggletes an evil favoured girdle, his cote rent, his hat old, his hose seam rend, his cap greasy, and his shirt lousy: finally I say, that divers of these misers fain that they have a great sum to pay, and it is for no other thing, but for not wearing a good garment. What can the covetous do more, then for keeping a penny in his purse, he will go two months and not trim his beard? Sithence it is true that these pynchpenies do behave their persons so evil, do ye think they have their houses any thing the better furnished? I say no, but you shall see their chambers full of cobwebs, the doors out of the hingels, the windows riven, the glasses broken, the planches lose, the covertures of the house without gutters, the stools broken, the bed's worm eaten, and chimneys ready to fall: so that to herber a friend or kinsman of theirs, they are constrained to lodge him in their neighbours house, or else to send to borrow all that they want. And passing over the garments they wear, and the housen wherein they dwell, let us see what table they keeps for of their gardens they eat no fruit, but that that falleth of the tree, of their vines, but rotten grapes, of their sheep, the sickest, of their corn, the wettest, of wine that which hath taken wind, of lard that is yellow, of milk, that is turned: and finally I say, the felicity that gluttons have in eating, the self same have they in keeping. O unhappy are the gluttons, and much more are the covetous: for the taste of one consisteth only in the throat, and the felicity of the other consists in that he may lock up in his chest. We have now seen how the covetous were simple apparel, keep a poor table, and dwell in a filthy house: and yet they less regard those things that touch their honour.  
For if they had their ears as open to here, as they have their hearts bend at each hour to gather, and heap up: they should hear how they are called misers, usurers, nygards, pinchepenies, oppressors, cruel, unthankful, and unfortunate. Finally I say, that in the commonwealth they are so hated, that all men had rather lay hands upon their bodies to kill them, than tongues on their renown to defame them. The covetous man is of all other most unlucky. For if we fall at strife with any, he shall find no one friend that will come to visit him in his house: but he shall have a hundred thieves which will rob him of his goods. For to revenge a covetous enemy, a man need desire nought else but that he live long: for he is more tormented in his life with his own covetousness, than he can be otherwise with any penance. If rich men would say unto me, that they do not rejoice to have fair houses, sithence they may have them, neither of curious apparel, since they may were it, nor of dainty meats, sithence they may eat them, and that that which they do, is not to be covetous, but for that they are good christians: In so just a thing, reason would my pen should cease: but I am sorry, they so little esteem things touching their honour, and much less the matters touching their conscience. If the avaricious say he keepeth goods to do alms, I do not believe it: for daily we see that if a poor man ask him alms, he answereth them immediately, god help you, for he hath neither purse nor penny. The covetous useth this, that he never giveth any alms in his house, but fat meat, and resty baken, rotten cheese, and door bread: so that it seemeth rather that they make clean their house, then give alms to the poor. If the covetous man would tell us, that that which they have, is to discharge some dets of their predecessors wherewith they are burdened, I say it is a vain excuse: sithence we see that the wills of their fathers, of their mothers, & of their grandfathers, be not as yet performed, neither will they think to perform them, which seemeth to be very true. For since the hour that they laid their fathers in the grave, they never had any one thought of their dead fathers. He which of pure covetousness and misery, suffereth himself to die for hunger and cold: I think he hath small devotion to give alms, and much less to do any man good. If the covetous man say unto us, that that which he keepeth, is for no other cause but to build a sumptuous chapel, and to leave of them some memory, to this I answer. That if such one doth it with his own proper sweat, and maketh restitution of all the evil that he hath done, it shallbe sanctified, & of all good men commended: but if the covetous will that many live in great poverty, only to make a rich tomb, god doth not command that, neither doth the church admit it: for sacrifice done to god with the cries and sweat of others, is not acceptable. If the covetous tell us, that though they heap treasures, it is not but at their death to distribute it to the poor, and to be brought honestly to the ground: I say that I commend this purpose, so his intent be accordingly performed: but I am sorry the covetous man should think hereby to merit, and that he should thus discharge the wickedness of his life, for the distribution of a little money after his death.  
I would think it more sure, that princes and great lords should spend their goods, to marry poor maidens, being orphans in their life, then to command money to be dealt after their death. For oft times the heirs or their executors, the body interred, do little perform the will of the testator: and much less observe the legacies beequethed, though it be to the utter undoing of the poor orphans. O what guerdon and commendation deserveth he that justly and truly dischargeth the legacies of the dead, and of the surplus (if any be) or with their own, relieve the orphans and marry the poor maidens, keeping them from the vices of this world. Suppose that a covetous man chanceth to traffic at Medine in Spain, at Lions in France, at Lisbon in Portugal, at London in England, at Andwarp in Flaunders, at Milan in Lombardy, at Florence in Italy, at Palermo in Scicil, at prague in Boeme, and at Buda in Hungary: finally with his eyes he hath seen all Europe, and by traffic he hath knowledge of all Asia. Admit now that in every place he hath gotten goods, and that which he hath gotten, was not with whole conscience, but according to the companies, so hath the offences been divers.  
In this case, if at the hour of death, when the covetous man divideth his money between the children, he might also devyd his offences, so that he dispossessing himself of the goods, might thereby be free from the offences, than it were well. But alas it is not so, for the wicked children live triumphing on the earth with the goods: and the miserable father goeth weeping to hell with his sins.   

¶ Of a letter which the Emperor Marcus Aurelius wrote to his friend Cincinatus who being a roman knight became a merchant of Capua, wherein he toucheth those gentlemen which take upon them the trade of merchandise against their vocation. It is divided into iii Chapters. Cap. xxv.  
MArck the Emperor, with his brother Annius Verus, fellow in the Empire, wisheth to thee Cincinatus of Capua, health to thy person, and grace against thy evil fortune. From the feast of our mother Berecinthe, I have seen neither servant of thy house, nor read any letter of thy hand, which thing maketh me suspect greatly, that thy health is in danger, or that thou mistrustest our friendship: for earnest friendship, requireth daily communication, or visitation: I pray thee be not so careless from henceforth, and do not forget us in such wise, I mean, that thou wilt come and see us, or at the least that thou wilt write unto us often: for the letters of faithful friends, though utterly they do not take from us the desire of the presence: yet at the least they make us hope for a meeting. I know that thou mayst answer me, that in the common wealth of Capua thou art so busied, that it is impossible thou shooldst write unto me: hereto I answer thee: That in no affairs thou canst be so occupied, that it be a lawful let, not to communicate, or write unto thy friend. For we may well call the time which we live, to be well employed, which is spent in the service of god, and in the conversation of our friends. All the residue that we wast in talking, traveling, sleeping, eating and resting, we ought not to write it in the book of life, but in the register of death. For all be it that in such semblable works the body is refreshed: yet therewith the heart cannot be comforted. I swear unto thee therefore (my friend) that it is impossible the man take any contentation of any worldly thing, where the heart is not at rest: for our comfort is not in the sinnues, or in the bones of the body, but in the lively power of the soul. It is long sithence that you and I have known togethers, it is long time likewise that I loved thee, and thou me: and sith we are so true old friends, it is but reason that with good works we do renew our friendship. For falsely they usurp the name of friendship, which are not conversant one with the other, no more than if they were strangers. The man which speaketh not to me, which writeth not to me, which seethe me not, which visiteth me not, which giveth me not, & to whom I give not, I would not he were my enemy: but it little availeth me that he call me friend, for particular friendship consisteth not in abundance, but that friends do open their hearts, and talk with their persons. Peradventure thou wilt say, that the great distance which is from Rome to that country, hath been occasion to diminish our friendship: for the noble hearts are on fire with the presence of that they love, and have great pain with the absence of that they desire. I answer, that the farther the delicious wines are sent, from the place where they grow: the greater strength they have. I mean, that herein true friends are known, when their persons are furthest severed: for then are their wills most conjoined. Tell me I pray thee Cincinnatus, sithence always thou hast found me a diligent friend in thy service, why dost thou mistrust my faithful good will? The green leaves outwardly do show, that the tree inwardly is not dry. I mean, that the good works outwardly do declare the ferventness of the heart inwardly. If thou Cincinnatus presumest to be a true friend of thy friend, I will thou know this rule of friendship, which is: Where perfect love is not, there wanteth always faithful service: & for the contrary he the perfectly loveth, assuredly shallbe served. I have been, am, & will be thine, therefore thou shalt do me great injury, if thou art not mine.   

¶ The Emperor proceedeth in his letter and declareth what virtues men ought to use, and the vices which they ought to eschew. Cap. xxvi.  
IN times past I being young, and thou old, I did succour thee with money, and thou me with good counsel: but now the world is otherwise changed, in that thy white hairs do judge thee to be old, and thy works do cause thee to be young. Therefore necessity compelleth me, that we change our style, which is: that I succour thee with good counsel, though thou give me no money therefore: for I count thy covetousness to be such, that for all the good counsel, & counsellors of Rome, the wilt not vouchsafe to give one quatrine of Capua. Now for the good that I wish thee, & for that which I own to the law of friendship, I will presently give thee a counsel, whereby thou mayst know what a good man ought to do, to be loved of god, & feared & loved of men. If the wilt quietly lead thy life in this miserable world, retain this well in memory which I writ unto thee. First the good deeds thou hast received of any, those shalt thou remember: & the wrongs thou hast sustained, them shalt thou forget. secondarily, esteem much thy own little: & way not the much of an other.  
Thirdly, the company of the good always covet: & the conversation of the evil daily fly. Fourthly, to the great show thyself grave: & to the small more conversant. Fiftly, to those which are present, do always good works: and of those that be absent, always speak good words. Sixtly, way little the loss of fortune, & esteem much things of honour. The seventh, to win one thing, never adventure thou many: nor for many things doubtful, do not thou adventure any one thing certain. Finally & lastly, I pray thee & advertise thee that thou have no enemy: & that thou keep but one friend. He which among the good willbe counted for good, none of these things he ought to want. I know well that thou wilt have great pleasure to see these my counsels well written: But I ensure thee I shall have greater pleasure, to see them in thy deeds well observed. For by writing to give good counsel, it is easy: but by works to follow the same, is marvelous hard. My faithful friendship to thee plighted, & thy great ability considered, caused me always for thee in Rome to procure honourable offices, & by my suit thou hast been Edite & tribune, & master of the horses, wherein thou behavedest thyself with such wisdom, that all the senate therefore yielded me most hearty thanks, I procuring them for thee, & thou for thyself winning such perpetual renown. One thing of thee I understand, which with good will I would not have known, & much less that any such thing by thee should have been committed: that is to weet, that thou leaving thy office of the praetorship in the war by land, hast taken upon thee traffic of a merchant by sea: so that those which in Rome knew thee a knight do see thee now in Capua a merchant. My pen enditing this my letter, for a time stood in suspense, for no other cause, but only to see what thing in thee first I might best blame: either the noble office which thou didst forsake, or the vile & base estate which thou hast chosen. And though thou be so much bereaved of thy senses, yet call to mind thy ancient predecessors which died in the wars, only to leave their children, and nephews armed knights: and that thou presently seekest to lose that liberty through thy covetousness, which they wan by their valiantness. I think I am not deceived, that if thy predecessors were revived, as they were ambitious of honour, so would they be greedy to eat thee in morsels, sinnues, bones and all. For the children which unjustly take honour from their fathers, of reason ought to lose their lives.  
The castles, towns, housen, mountains, woods, beasts, jewels, and silver, which our predecessors have left us, in the end by long continuance do perish: and that which causeth us to have perpetual memory of them, is the good renown of their life. And therefore if this be true, it is great shame for the parents to have such children, in whom the renown of their predecessors doth end. In the flourishing time of Cicero the orator, when by his counsel the whole common wealth was governed, he being then of power, both in knowledge and of money: Sallust said unto him in his invective, that he was of base stock: whereunto he answered. Great cause have I too render thanks unto the gods, that I am not as thou art, by whom thy high lineage is ended: but my poor stock by me doth now begin too rise. It is great pity to see, how many good, noble, & valiant men are dead: but it is more grief to see presently their children vicious, and unthrifts. So that there remaineth as much memory of their infamy, as there doth of the others honesty. Thou mak'st me ashamed, that thou hast forsaken to conquer the enemies as a romain knight, and that thou art become a merchant, as a poor plebeian. Thou makest me to muse a little, my friend Cincinnatus that thou wilt harm thy familiars, and suffer strangers to live in peace. Thou seekest to procure death, to those which give us life: and to deliver from death those, which take our life To rebels thou givest rest, & to the peace makers thou givest annoyance. To those which take from us our own thou wilt give: and to those which giveth us of theirs thou will take. Thou condemnest the innocent, and the condemned thou wilt deliver. A defender of thy country thou wilt not be, but a tyrant of thy common wealth. To all these things adventureth he which leaveth weapons, and falleth to merchandise. With myself oft times I have mused, what occasion should move thee to forsake chivalry, wherein thou hadst such honour: and to take in hand merchandise, whereof followeth such infamy. I say, that it is as much shame for thee to have gone from the wars as it is honour for those which are born unto office in the common wealth. My friend Cincinnatus, my end tendeth not to condemn merchandise nor marchaunds, nor to speak evil of those which traffic, by the trade of buying and selling. For as without the valiant knights, war cannot be achieved: so likewise without the diligent merchants, the common wealth cannot be maintained. I cannot imagine for what other cause thou shouldst forsake the war, & traffic merchandise, unless it were, because thou now being old, & wantest force to assault men openly in the straits: shouldst with more ease sitting in thy chair rob secretly in the market place. O poor Cincinnatus, sithence thou buyest cheap & sellest dear, promisest much & performest little: thou buyest by one measure & sellest by an other, thou watchest that none deceive thee, & playest therein as other merchants accustom. And to conclude I swear, that the measure wherewith the gods shall measure thy life, shallbe much juster than that of thy merits. Thou hast taken on thee an office, wherewith, that which thy companions in many days have rob, thou in one hour by deceit dost get, & afterwards the time shall come, when all the goods which thou hast gotten, both by truth, & falsehood, shallbe lost, not only in an hour which is long: but in a moment which is but short. Whether we give much, we have much, we may do much, or we live much: yet in the end the gods are so just, that all the evil we do commit shallbe punished, & for all the good we work, we shallbe rewarded, so that the gods oftentimes permit, that one alone shall scourge many, and afterward the long time punisheth all.   

¶ The Emperor concludeth his letter and persuadeth his friend Cincinnatus to despise the vanities of the world, and showeth though a man be never so wise, yet he shall have need of an other man's counsel. Cap. xxvii.  
IF I knew thy wisdom esteemed the world, & vanities thereof, so much as the world doth possess thee, and thy days, as by thy white hears most manifestly doth appear: I need not take the pains to persuade thee, nor thou shouldst be annoyed in hearing me: Notwithstanding thou being at the gate of great care, reason would that some should take the clapper to knock thereat, with some good counsel: for though the razor be sharp, it needeth sometimes to be whet. I mean though man's understanding be never so clear: yet from time to time it needeth counsel. Virtuous men oft times do err, not because they would fail, but for that the things are so evil of digestion, that the virtue they have, sufficeth not to tell them what thing is necessary for their profit. For the which cause it is necessary, that his will be bridled, his wit fined, his opinion changed, his memory sharpened, & above all, now and then that he forsake his own advise, and cleave unto the counsel of an other. Men which covet to make high, sumptuous, fair, and large buildings, have  care that the foundation thereof be surely laid: for where the foundations are not sure, there the whole buildings are in great danger. The manners and conditions of this world (that is to weet) the prosperous estates whereupon the children of vanity are set, are founded of quick sand: in that sort, that be they never so valiant, prosperous, and mighty, a little blast of wind doth stir them, a little heat of prosperity doth open them, a shower of adversity doth wet them, and unwares death striketh them all flat to the ground. Men seeing they cannot be perpetual, do procure to continue themselves, in raising up proud buildings, and leaving to their children great estates: wherein I count them fools, no less then in things superfluous. For admit the pillars be of gold, the beams of silver, and that those which join them be kings, and those which build them are noble, and in that mining they consume a thousand years before they can have it out of the ground, or that they can come to the bottoms: I swear unto them, that they shall find no steady rock, nor lively mountain, where they may build their house sure, nor to cause their memory to be perpetual. The immortal gods have participated all things to the mortal men, immortality only reserved: and therefore they are called immortal, for so much as they never die, and we others are called mortal, because daily we vanish away. O my friend Cincinnatus, men have an end, and thou thinkest that gods never ought to end. Now green, now ripe, now rotten, fruit is severed from this life, from the tree of the miserable flesh, & esteem this as nothing, forsomuch as death is natural. But oft times in the leaf or flower of youth, the frost of some disease, or the peril of some mishap doth take us away: so that when we think to be alive in the morning we are dead in the night. It is a tedious & long work to weave a cloth: yet when in many days it is woven, in one moment it is cut. I mean that it is much folly to see a man with what toil he enricheth himself, & into what peril he putteth himself, to win a state of honour: & afterwards when we think little we see him perish in his estate, leaving of him no memory. O my friend Cincinnatus, for the love that is between us I desire thee, & by the immortal gods I conjure thee, that thou give no credit to the world which hath this condition, to hide much copper under little gold, under the colour of one truth, he telleth us a thousand lies, & with one short pleasure, he mingleth ten thousand displeasures. He beegyleth those to whom he pretendeth most love, and procureth great damages to them, to whom he giveth most goods, he recompenseth them greatly which serve him in jest, and to those which truly love him, he giveth mocks for goods. Finally I say, that when we sleep most sure, he waketh us with greatest peril. Either thou know'st the world with his deceit, or not: if thou knowest him not, why dost thou serve him? if thou dost know him, why dost thou follow him? Tell me I pray thee, would not the take that thief for a fool, which would buy the rope wherewith he should be hanged, & the murderer that would make the sword, wherewith he should be beheaded? & the robber by the high way, that would show the well wherein he should be cast? & the traitor that should offer himself in place for to be quartered? the rebel that should disclose himself to be stoned? Then I swear unto thee, that thou art much more a fool, which knowest the world, & will follow it, & serve it. One thing I will tell thee, which is such, that thou oughtest never to forget it: that is to weet, that we have greater need of faith, not to believe the vanities which we see, then to believe the great malices, which with our ears we here. I return to advise thee, to read & consider this word which I have spoken, for it is a sentence of profound mystery. Dost thou think Cincinnatus, that rich men have little care to get great riches? I let thee weet, that the goods of this world are of such condition, that before the poor man doth lock up in his chests a .100. crowns: he feeleth a thousand griefs & cares in his heart. Our predecessors have seen it, we see it presently, & our successors shall see it: that the money which we have gotten, is in a certain number, but the cares & travails which it bringeth are infinite. We have few painted houses, & few noble estates in Rome, the within a little time have not great cares in their hearts, cruel enmities with their neighbours, much evil will of their heirs, disordinate importunities of their friends, perilous malices of their enemies, & above all in the Senate they have innumerable process, & oft times to lock a little good in their chests, they make ten thousand blots in their honour. O how many have I known in Rome, to whom it hath chanced, that all that they have gotten in Rome to leave unto their best beloved child: an other heir (with little care) of whom they thought not, hath enjoyed it. There can be nothing more just, then that all those which have beegyled others with disceits in their life, should be found deceived in their vain imaginations after their death. Injurious should the gods be, if in all the evil that the evil propound to do, they should give them time & place convenient to accomplish the same. But the gods are so just and wise, that they dissemble with the evil, to th'end they should begin, and follow the things according to their own wills and fantasies: and afterwards at the best time, they cut of their lives, to leave them in greater torment. The gods should be very cruel, and to them it should be great grief to suffer, that that which the evil have gathered, to the prejudice of many good: they should enjoy in peace for many years. Me thinketh it is great folly, to know that we are borne weeping, and to see that we dysighing, and yet for all this that we dare live laughing. I would ask the world and his worldlings, sithence that we enter into the world weeping, and go out of the world sighing, why we should live laughing? for the rule to measure all parts, aught to be equal. O Cincinnatus, who hath beegyled thee, to the end that for one bottle of water of the Sea of this world for thy pleasure, thou wilt blister thy hand with the rope of cares, and bruise thy body in thanker of troubles: and above all to adventure thine own honour, for a glass of water of an other man.  
By the faith of a good man I swear unto thee, that for all the great quantity of water thou drawest, for the great deal of money thou hast, thou remainest as much dead for thirst, drinking of that water: as when thou were without water in the cup. Consider now thy years, if my counsel thou wilt accept, thou shalt demand death of the gods to rest thee as a virtuous man: and not riches to live as a fool. With the tears of my eyes I have beewayled many in Rome, when I saw them departed out of this world, and thee I have beewayled, and do beewaile (my friend Cincinnatus) with drops of blood, to see thee return into the world. The credit thou hadst in the senate, the blood of thy predecessors, my friendship, the authority of thy parson, the honour of thy parentage, the slander of thy commonwealth, aught to withdraw thee from so great covetousness. O poor Cincinnatus, consider the white honoured hears which do fall, aught to be occupied in the noble armies: sithence thou art noble of blood, valiant in parson, ancient of years, and not evil willed in the common wealth. For thou oughtest to consider, that more worth is reason, for the path way of men which are good: then the common opinion, which is the large high way of the evil. For if it be narrow to go on the one side, there is no dust wherewith the eyes be blinded as in the other.  
I will give thee a counsel, and if thou feelest thyself evil, never count thou me for friend. Lust no more after the greasy fat of temporal goods, sins thou hast short life: for we see daily many, before they come to thy age die, but we see few after thy age live. After this counsel I will give thee an advise, that thou never trust present prosperity: for then always thou art in danger of some evil fortune. If thou art mounted into such pricking thorns as a fool: me thinketh thou ought to descend as a sage. And in this sort all will say amongst the people, that Cincinnatus is descended, but not fallen. My letter I will conclude, and the conclusion thereof see well thou note, that is to weet, that thou and thy trade shallbe cursed, where you other merchants will live poor, to die rich. Once again I return to curse you, for that the covetousness of an evil man is always accomplished, to the prejudice of many good.  
My wife Faustinc doth salute thee, and she was not a little troubled when she knew thou were a merchant, and that thou keepest a shop in Capua. I send thee a horse to ride upon, & one of the most richest arras of Tripoli to hung thy house withal, a precious ring, and a pommel of a sword of Alexandrie: and all these things I do not send thee, for that I know thou hast need thereof: but rather not to forget the good custom I have to give. Pamphil● thy aunt, and my neighbour is dead. And I can tell thee, that in Rome died not a woman of long time, which of her left such renown: for so much as she forgot all enmities, she succoured the poor, she visited the banished, she entertained friends, and also I heard say that she alone did light all the temples. Prestilla thy cousin hath the health of body, though for the death of her mother her heart is heavy. And without doubt she had reason: for the only sorrows which the mothers suffer to bring us forth, though with drops of blood we should beewayl them, yet we cannot recompense them.  
The gods be in thy custody, and preserve me, with my wife Faustine from all evil fortune. Mark of mount Celio with his own hand   

¶ The author persuadeth princes and great Lords to fly covetousness and avarice, and to become bowntifull and liberal, which virtue is ever pertinent to the royal parson. Cap. xxviii.  
PIsistratus the renowned tyrant among the athenians, sins his friends cooled not endure the cruelties that he committed, each one returned to his own house, and utterly forsook him. The which when the tyrant saw, he laid all his treasure and garments on a heap togethers, and went to visit his friends, to whom with bitter tears he spoke these words. All my apparel and money here I bring you, with determination, that if you will use my company, we will go all to my house, and if you will not come into my company, I am determined to dwell in yours. For if you be weary to follow me, I have great desire to serve you: sithence you know that they cannot be called faithful friends, where the one cannot bear with the other. Plutarchus in his Apothegms saith, that this tyrant Pisistratus was very rich, and extreme covetous, so that they writ of him, that the gold & silver which once came into his possession, never man saw it afterward, but if he had necessity to buy any thing, if they would not present it unto him willingly, he would have it by force. When he was dead, the athenians determined to weigh him and his treasure: the case was marvelous, that the gold and silver he had, weighed more than his dead body .6. times. At that time in Athens there was a philosopher called Lido, of whom the athenians demanded, what they should do with the treasure and dead body? me thinketh (quoth this philosopher) that if those which are living, did know any silver or gold which the tyrant took from them, it should be restored again immediately: and do not marvel, that I do not require it to be put in the common treasure. For god will not permit, that the commonwealth be enriched with the theft of Tyrants: but with the sweat of the inhabitants. If any goods remain which do not appear from whom they have been taken, me thinketh that they ought to be distributed among the poor, for nothing can be more just, then that which the goods wherewith the tyrant hath impoverished many, with the self same we should enrich some.  
As touching his burial, me thinketh he ought to be cast out to the 〈…〉 to be eaten, and to the dogs to be gnawn. And let no man think this sentence to be cruel: for we are bound to do no more for him at his death, than he did for himself in his life, who being so overcome with avarice, that he would never disburse so much money, as should buy him seven foot of earth, wherein his grave should be made. And I will you know, that the gods have done a great good to all Greece, to take life from this tyrant. First it is good, because much goods are dispersed, which heretofore lay hid, and served to no purpose. Secondly, that many tongues shall rest, for the treasures of this tyrant, made great want in the common wealth, and our tongues the greatest part of the day were occupied, to speak evil of his parson. Me thinketh this philosopher hath touched two things, which the covetous man doth in the common wealth, that is to weet, that drawing much gold & silver to the hid treasure, he robbeth the merchandise wherewith the people do live: The other damage is, that as he is hated of all, so he causeth rancour & malice in the hearts of all: for he maketh the rich to mumur, and the poor to blaspheme. One thing I read in the laws of the Lombard's worthy (of truth) to be noted and known, and no less to be followed, which is: that all those which should have gold, silver, money, silks, & clothes, every year they should be registered in the place of justice. And this was to the end, not to consent nor permit them to heap much: but that they should have to buy, to sell, and to trafik, whereby the goods were occupied among the people. So that he which did spend the money to the profit of his house, it was taken for good of the common wealth. If christians would do that now adays which the lombards did, there should not be so many treasures hid, nor so many covetous men in the commonwealth: for nothing can be more unjust, than that one rich man should heap up that, which would suffice ten thousand to live with all. We can not deny but that the cursed avarice, and disordinate covetise to all states of men is as prejudicial, as the moth which eateth all garments.  
Therefore speaking the truth and with liberty, there is no house that it doth not defile: for it is more perilous to have a clod of earth fall into a man's eye, than a beam upon his foot. Agesilaus the renowned king of the Lacedæmonians, being asked of a man of Thebes what word was most audible to be spoken to a king, and what word that was that cooled honour him most? he answered. The prince with nothing so much aught to be annoyed, as to say unto him that he is rich, and of nothing he ought so much to rejoice, as to be called poor. For the glory of the good prince consisteth not in that he hath great treasures: but in that he hath geeven great recompenses. This word without doubt, of all the world was one of the most royalest, and worthiest to be committed unto memory. Alexander, Pyrrhus, Nicanor, Ptolomeus, Pompeius, julius Cesar, Scipio, Hannibal, Marcus Portius, Augustus, Cato, trajan, Theodose, Marcus Aurelius, all these princes have been very valiant and virtuous: but adding hereunto also, the writers which have written the deeds that they did in their lives, have mentioned also the poverty which they had at their death. So that they are no less exalted, for the riches they have spent: then for the prowesses they have done. Admit that men of mean state be avaricious, and princes and great lords also covetous: the fault of the one is not equal with the vice of the other, though in the end all are culpable.  
For if the poor man keep, it is for that he would not want, but if the knight hoard, it is because he hath to much. And in this case I would say, that cursed be the knight which travaileth, to the end that goods abound, and doth not care that between two bows his renowmsall to the ground. Sithence princes and great lords will that men do count them noble, virtuous, & valiant, I would know what occasion they have to be nigards and hard.  
If they say that that which they keep is to eat, herein there is no reason: for in the end, where the rich eateth least at his table, there are many that had rather have that which remaineth, then that which they provide to eat in their houses. If they say that that which they keep is to apparel them, here in also they have as little reason: for the greatness of lords consisteth not, in that they should be sumptuously apparelled, but that they provide that their servants go not rend, nor torn. If they say it is to have in their chambers precious jewels, in their halls rich Tapestry, as little would I admit this answer: for all those which enter into princes palaces, do behold more if those that haunt their chambers be virtuous, then that the tapestries be rich.  
If they say that it is to compass their cities with walls, or to make fortresses on their fronters: so likewise is this answer amongst the others very cold. For good princes ought not to travel but to be well willed, and if in their realms they be well-beloved, in the world they can have no walls so strong as the hearts of their subjects. If they tell us that that they keep is to marry their children, as little reason is that: for sithence princes and great lords have great inheritances, they need not heap much. For if their children be good, they shall increase that shallbe left them: and if by mishap they be evil, they shall aswell lose that that shallbe geeven them. If they say unto us that that which they heap is for the wars in like manner, that is no just excuse: For if such war be not just, the prince ought not to take it in hand, nor the people thereunto to condescend: but if it be just, the common wealth then, & not the prince shall bear the charges thereof. For in just wars it is not sufficient that they give the prince all their goods: but also they must themselves in parson hazard their lives. If they tell us that that they keep is to give and dispose for their souls, at their dying day: I say it is not only want of wisdom, but extreme folly. For at the hour of death, princes ought more to rejoice for that they have geeven: then for that at that time he giveth. O how princes and great lords are evil counseled, since they suffer themselves to be slandered for being covetous, only to heap a little cursed treasure. For experience teacheth us, no man can be covetous of goods, but needs he must be prodigal of honour, and abandon liberty. plutarch in the book which he made of the fortune of Alexander, saith that Alexander the great had a private servant called Perdyca, the which seeing that Alexander liberally gave all that which by great travel he attained, on a day he said unto him. Tell me, most noble prince, sithence thou givest all that thou hast to others, what wilt thou have for thyself? Alexander answered. The glory remaineth unto me, of that I have won & gotten: & the hope of that which I will give & win. And further he said unto him, I will tell thee true Perdyca: If I knew that men thought, that all that which I take were for covetousness, I swear unto thee by the god Mars that I would not beat down one corner in a town: and to win all the world I would not go one days journey. My intention is to take the glory to myself, and to divide the goods amongst others. These words so high, were worthy of a valiant and virtuous prince, as of Alexander which spoke them. If that which I have read in books do not beguile me, & that which with these eyes I have seen: to become rich, it is necessary that a man give: for the princes and great lords which naturally are geeven to be liberal, are always fortunate to have. It chanceth oft times, that some man giving a little, is counted liberal: & an other giving much, is counted a niggard. The which proceedeth of this that they know not, that liberality & nigardness consisteth not in giving much, or little: but to know well how to give. For the rewards and recompenses, which out of time are distributed, do neither profit them which receive them, neither agree to him which giveth them. A covetous man giveth more at one time, than a noble and free heart doth in .20. thus saith the common proverb, it is good coming to a niggards feast. The difference between the liberality of the one, and the misery of tother is, that the noble and virtuous doth give that he giveth to many: but the niggard giveth that he giveth to one only. Of the which unaduisement princes ought greatly to beware. For if in such case one man alone should be found, which would commend his liberality: there are ten thousand which would condemn his covetousness.  
It happeneth oft times to princes and great lords, that in deed they are free to recompense, but in giving they are very unfortunate. And the cause is, that they give it not to virtuous persons and well conditioned, but to those which are unthankful, and do not acknowledge the benefit received. So that in giving to some, they have not made them their friends: and in not giving to others, they have made them their enemies. It sufficeth not to princes & great lords, to have great desire to give: but to know when, how, or where, & to whom they ought to give. For if they be accused otherwise to heap up treasures, they ought also to be condemned for that they do give. When a man hath lost all that he hath in play, in whoors, in banquets, and other semblable vices, it is but reason they be ashamed: but when they have spent it like noble, stout and liberal men, they ought not to be discontented, for the wise man ought to take no displeasure for that he loseth: but for that he evil spendeth: and he ought to take no pleasure for that he giveth, but for that he giveth not well. Dion the Graecian in the life of the Emperor Severus saith, that one day in the feast of the God janus, when he had geeven divers rewards and sundry gifts, as well to his own servants, as to strangers, and that he was greatly commended of all the Romans, he said unto them.  
Do you think now (Romans) that I am very glad for the gifts, rewards, and recompenses which I have bestowed: and that I am very glorious for the praises you have geeven me? by the god Mars I swear unto ye, and let the god janus be so merciful unto us all this year, that the pleasure I have is not so great, for the I have geeven: as the grief is for that I have no more to give.   

¶ The author followeth his intention and persuadeth gentlemen, and those that profess arms, not to abase themselves for gains sake, to take upon them any vile function or office. Cap. nineteen.  
plutarch in his Apothemes declareth, that king Ptolomeus the first, was a prince of so good a nature, and so gentle in conversation, that oft times he went to supper to the houses of his familiar friends, and many nights he remained there to sleep. And truly in this case he showed himself to be well-beloved of his. For speaking according to the truth a prince on whose life dependeth the hole state of the common wealth, aught to credit few was the table, and also fewer in the bed. Another thing this Ptolomeus did, which was, when he invited his friends to dinner or supper, or other strangers, of some he desired to borrow stools, of thothers napkins, & of others cups, and so of other things, for he was a prodigal prince. For all that his servants in the morning had bought, before the night following he gave it away. One day all the nobles of his realm of Egypt assembled togethers, and desired him very earnestly, that he would be more moderate in giving: for they said, through his prodygality, the hole realm was impoverished. The king answered. You others of Egypt are marvelously deceived, to think that the poor and needy prince is troubled. In this case I dare say unto you, that the poor and needy prince ought to think himself happy, for good princes ought more to seek to enrich others, then to heap up treasures for them selves. O happy is the common wealth which deserveth to have such a prince, and happy is that tongue, which cooled pronounce such a sentence. Certainly this prince to all princes gave good example and counsel, that is to weet, that for them it was more honour, and also more profit, to make others rich: them to be rich themselves. For if they have much, they shall want no cravers, and if they have little, they shall never want servants to serve them. Suetonius Tranquillus in the book of Caesar's sayeth, that Titus the Emperor one night after supper, from the bottom of his heart fetched a heavy sigh, and he being demanded of those which were at his table why he sighed so sore, he answered. We have lost at this day, my friends. By the which words the emperor meant, that he counted not that day amongst those of life: wherein he had geeven no reward nor gift. Truly this noble prince was valiant, and mighty, since he sighed and had displeasure, not for that which in many days he had geeven: but because that one day he had failed to give any thing. Pelopa of Thebes, was a man in his time, very valiant and also rich: & sith he was fortunate in getting, & liberal in spending, one asked him why he was so prodigal to give? he answered. If to thee it seemeth that I give much, to me it seemeth yet I should give more: sithence the goods ought to serve me, & not I to honour them. Therefore I will that they call me the spender of the goods: & not the steward of the house. plutarch in his apothemes saith, that king Darius flouting at king Alexander for being poor, sent to know where his treasures were for such great armies, to whom Alexander the great answered. Tell king Darius, that he keepeth in his coffers his treasures of metal: & that I have no other treasures than the hearts of my friends. And further tell him, that one man alone can rob all his treasures: but he & all the world can not take my treasures from me, which are my friends. I durst say, affirming that Alexander said, that he cannot be called poor, which is rich of friends: neither can he be called rich, which is poor of friends. For we saw by experience, Alexander with his friends took king Darius' treasures from him: & king Darius with all his treasures, was not puissant enough to take Alexander's friends from him. Those which of their natural inclination are shamefast, & in estate noble, they ought above all things to fly the slander of covetousness: for without doubt greater is the honour which is lost, then the goods that are gotten. If princes and great lords of their own natural dispositions be liberal, let them follow their nature: but if perchance of their own nature they are inclined to covetousness, let them enforce their wil And if they will not do it, I tell them which are present, that a day shall come when they shall repent: for it is a general rule, that the disordinate covetousness do raise against themselves all venomous tongues. Think that when you watch to take men's goods, the others watch in like manner to take your honour. And if in such case you hazard your honour, I do not think that your life can be sure: for there is no law that doth ordain, nor patience that can suffer, to see my neighbour live in quiet, by the sweat of my brows. A poor man esteemeth as much a cloak, as the rich man doth his delicious life. Therefore it is a good consequent, that if the rich man take the gown from the poor: the poor man ought to take life from the rich Photion amongst the Greeks was greatly renowned, & this not so much for that he was sage, as for that he did despise all worldly riches, unto whom when Alexander the great (king of Macedony) had sent him a hundredth marks of silver, he said unto those that brought it. Why doth Alexander sand this money unto me, rather than to other philosophers of Grece? they answered him. He doth send it unto thee, for that thou art the least covetous, & most virtuous. Then answered this philosopher. Tell Alexander that though he knoweth not what belongeth to a prince, yet I know well what pertaineth to a philosopher. For the estate & office of philosophers, is to despise the treasures of princes: & the office of princes is to ask counsel of philosophers. And further Photion said, you shall say also to Alexander, that in that he hath sent me, he hath not showed himself a pitiful friend, but a cruel enemy: for esteeming me an honest man (such as he thought I was) he should have helped me to have been such. These words were worthy of a wise man. It is great pity, to see valiant & noble men to be defamed of covetousness, & only for to get a few goods, he abaseth himself to vile offices: which appertain rather to mean parsons, then to noble men, & valiant knights. Whereof ensueth, that they live infamed, & all their friends slandered. Declaring further I say, that it seemeth great lightness, that a knight should leave the honourable state of chivalry, to exercise the handicraft of husbandry: & that the horse should be changed into oxen, the spears to mattocks, & the weapons into blows. Finally, they do desire to toil in the field: & refuse to fight in the frontiers. O how much some knights of our time have degenerated, from that their fathers have been in times past: for their predecessors did advance themselves of the infidels, which in the fields they slew, & their children brag of the corn & sheep they have in their grounds. Our ancient knights were not wont to sigh, but when they saw themselves in great distress: & their successors weep now, for that it reigned not in the month of May. Their fathers did strive, which of them could furnish most men, have most weapons, & keep most horses: but their children now adays contend, who hath the finest wit, who can heap up greatest treasure & who can keep most sheep. The ancients strived who should keep most men: but these worldlings at this day strive, who can have greatest revenues. Wherefore I say, since the one doth desire as much to have great rents, as the other did delight to have many weapons: it is as though fathers should take the sword by the pommel, and the children by the scabbard. All the good arts are perverted, and the art of chivalry above all others is despised: and not without cause I called it an art, for the ancient philosophers consumed a great time, to write the laws that the knights ought to keep. And as now the order of the Carthagians seemeth to be most straight: so in times past the order of knighthod was the straightest. To whom I swear, that if they observed the order of chivalry, as good and gentle knights: there remained no time vacant for them in life to be vicious, nor we should accuse them at their death as evil christians. The true and not feigned knight, ought not to be proud, malicious, furious, a glutton, coward, prodigal, niggard, a liar, a blasphemer, nor negligent. Finally I say, that all those ought not to be judged as knights, which have golden spurs: unless he hath there with an honest life. O if it pleased the king of heaven, that princes would now adays examine as straightly those, which have cure of souls: as the Romans did those which had but charge of armies. In old time they never doubbed any man knight, unless he were of noble blood, proper of person, moderate in speech, exercised in the war, courageous of heart, happy in Arms, and honest in life: finally, of all he ought to be beloved for his virtue, and of none hated for his vice. The knights in whom these virtues shined bright in Rome had divers liberties, that is to weet, that they only might wear rings, ride on horseback through the streets, they might have a shield, shit their gates at dinner, they might drink in cups of silver, speak to the senate, and make defyaunces, they might demand the ensign, wear weapons, take the charge of embassage, and ward at the gates of Rome. The author hereof, is Blondus in the book of De Italia illustrata. If Pliny deceive us not in an epistle, and plutarch in his pollitiks, Seneca in a tragedy, and Cicero in his paradoxes, there was nothing wherein the ancients were more circumspect, then in electing of their knights. Now it is not so, but that one having money to buy a lordship, immediately he is made knight: and that which is worst, when he is made a knight, it is not to fight against the enemies in the field, but more freely to commit vices, and oppress the poor in the towns. To the end he may be a good christian, he ought to think upon jesus crucified: and to be a good knight, he ought always to behold the arms of his shyeld, the which his grandfather, or great grandfather wan. For they shall see, that they wan them not being vicious in their houses: but in shedding the blood of their enemies in the frontiers.   

¶ Of a letter which the emperor wrote to Mercurius his neighbour a merchant of Samia, wherein men may learn the dangers of those which traffyck by sea, and also see the covetousness of them that travail by land. Cap. thirty.  
MArcus Aurelius Emperor of Rome, borne in mount Celio, wisheth to thee Mercurius his special friend, health and consolation in the gods the only comforters. It seemeth well, that we are friends, sithence we do the works of charity. For I understanding here thy mishap, immediately sent a messenger to comfort thee: & in hearing my disease, thou sendell a friend of thine to visit me. Wherefore men may perceive, if thou hadst me in mind, I did not forget thee. I understand that the messenger that went, & the other that came, met in Capua: the one carried my desire for thee, & the other brought thy letter for me. And if as diligently thou hadst read mine, as I attentively have hard thine: thou shooldst thereby plainly know, that my heart was as full of sorrow as thy spirit was full of pain. I was very glad, & great thanks I yield thee, for that thou didst send to comfort me in my fever tertian: & thy visitation & comfort came at the same hour, that it left me. But if the gods did leave this fact in my hands, even as they thought it good to fix the fever in my bones: I would not leave thee without comfort nor give place to the fever to return again. O how great is our pride, & the misery of man's life. I speak this, because I do presume to take many realms from other, & yet I have not the power to pluck the fever out of my own bones. Tell me I pray thee (Mercurius) what profit is it to us to desire much, to procure much, to attain much, & to presume much, since our days are so brief, & our persons so frail? It is long time since we have been bound togethers in friendship, & many years have passed sithence we have known the one the other: & the day that thy friendship trusted my faith, immediately my faith was bound, that thy evils should be mine, & my goods thine: for as the divine Plato said, that only is true friendship, where the bodies are .2. & the wills but one. I count that suspicious friendship, where the hearts are so divided, as the wills are severed: for there are divers in Rome great friends in words, which dwell but ten houses in sunder, & have their hearts ten thousand miles distant. When thou wenst from Rome, & I came from Samia, thou know'st the agreement which we made in Capua, whereof I trust thou wilt not deceive me now, but that I am another thou here, & that thou shooldst be another I there: so that my absence with thy presence, & thy presence with mine absence be always together. By relation of thy messenger, I understood that thou hadst lost much goods: but as by thy letter I was informed, that anguish of thy parson was much greater. As we understand here thou didst send a ship laden with merchandise to Grece, & the mariners & factors desiring more to profit by their wisdom, then to accomplish thy covetousness: did cast the merchandise into the Sea, & only they travailed to save their persons. In deed in so straight & perilous a case, thou hast no reason to accuse them, nor yet they are bound to satisfy thee: for no man can commit greater folly, then for the goods of others to hazard his own proper life. Pardon me (Mercury) I pray thee for that I have spoken, & also for that I will say, which is, that for so much as the mariners & factors were not thy children, nor thy kinsmen, nor thy friends: so that thy merchandise might have come to the haven safe, thou hadst little passed if they had all been drowned in the deep gulf of the sea. Further I say, though I would not say it, & thou much less here it, that according to the little care which you other covetous men have, of the children & factors of others, and according to the disordinate love which you have to your proper goods; where as thou weepest bitterly for the loss of thy goods, though thou hadst seen all the mariners drowned, thou would not have shed one tear. For Roman merchants weep rather for ten crowns lost, which they can not recover: then for ten men dying, the which ten crowns would have saved. Me thinketh it is neither just, nor honest, that thou do that which they tell me thou dost, to complain of thy factors, and accuse the mariners: only to recover of the poor men by land, that which the fish have in their possession in the Sea. For as thou knowest, no man is bound to change health, life, nor the renown of their parsons, for the recovery of goods. Alas, what pity have I on thee Mercury, in that the ship was laden with thy merchandise: and the worst of all is, that according to my understanding, & thy feeling, the Pirates have not cast such farthels into the sea, as thoughts hath burdened & oppressed thy heart. I never saw man of such condition as thou art, for that thou seest that the ship (until such time) as they cast that merchandise over the board could not sail safely: and yet thou dost load thyself with riches to go to thy grave. O grievous and cursed riches, with the which neither in the deep seas, neither yet in the main land, our parsons are in safeguard. Knowing thy property, I would rather bind myself to seek thy lead & tin: then thy heart so wounded. For in the end, thy lead is together in some place in the bottom of the sea: but thy covetousness is scattered through all the whole earth. If perhaps thou shouldst die, and the surgeons with the sharp razor should open thy stomach, I swear unto thee, by the mother Berecinthe, (which is the mother of all the gods of Rome) that they should rather find thy heart drowned which the lead: then in life with thy body. Now thou canst not be sick of the fever tertian as I am, for the heat with in thy body, & the pain in thy head, would cause thee to have a double quartain: and of such disease thou canst not be healed in thy bed, but in the ship, not in land, but in the sea, not with physicians, but with pirates. For the physicians would carry away the money, and the pirates would show thee where thy lead fel. Trouble not thyself so much Mercury, for though thou hast not thy lead with thee in the land, it hath thee with it in the sea, and thou oughtest enough to comfort thyself: for where as before thou hadst it in thy coffers, thou hast it presently in thy entrails. For there thy life is drowned, where thy lead is cast. O Mercury now thou knowest, that the day that thou didst recommend thy goods to the unknown rocks, and thy ship to the raging seas, and thy outrageous avarice to the furious wynds, how much that thy factors went desiring thy profit, and gain: so much the more thou mightst have been assured of thy loss. If thou hadst had this consideration, and hadst used this diligence: thy desire had been drowned, and thy goods escaped. For men that dare adventure their goods on the sea, they ought not to be heavy for that that is lost: but they ought to rejoice for that that is escaped. Socrates, the ancient and great Philosopher determined to teach us, not by word, but by work, in what estimation a man ought to have the goods of this world: for he cast in the sea not lead, but gold, not little, but much, not of another man's, but of his own, not by force, but willingly, not by fortune, but by wisdom. Finally in this worthy fact he showed so great courage, that no covetous man would have rejoiced, to have found so much in the land: as this philosopher did delight, to have cast in the sea. That which Socrates did was much, but greater ought we to esteem that he said, which was: O ye deceitful goods, I will drown you, rather than you should drown me. Since Socrates feared, and drowned his own proper goods: why do not the covetous fear to rob the goods of other? This wise Philosopher would not trust the fine gold: and thou dost trust the hard lead. Draw you two lots, Socrates of Athens, and thou of Samia. See which of you two have erred or done well: he to carry gold from the land to the Sea, or thou by the Sea, to bring gold to the land. I am assured, that the ancient romans would say that it is he: but the covetous of this present world would say, that it is thou. That which in this case I think is, that thou in praising it, dost dispraise thyself: and Socrates in dispraising it, of all is praised and esteemed.   

¶ The Emperor followeth his matter & concludeth his letter, greatly reproving his friend Mercurius for that he took thought for the loss of his goods. He showeth him the nature of fortune, and describeth the conditions of the covetous man. Cap. xxxi.  
THis messenger told me, that thou art very sad, that thou criest out in the night, and importunest the gods, wakest thy neighbours, and above all, that thou complainest of fortune which hath used thee so evil. I am sorry for thy grief: for grief is a friend of solitude, enemy of company, a lover of darkness, strange in conversation, & heir of desperation. I am sorry thou criest in the night, for it is a sign of folly, a token of small patience, the point of no wise man, and a great proof of ignorance: for at the hour when all the world is covered with darkness, thou alone dost discover thy heart with exclamations. I am sorry that thou art vexed with the gods, saying that they are cruel. For so much as if they have taken any thing from thee for thy pride, they should restore it again unto thee for thy humility. For as much as we offend the gods through the offence, so much do we appease them with patience. O my friend Mercurius, know'st thou not that the patience which the gods have in dissembling our faults is greater, then that which men have in suffering their chastisements? for we others unjustly do offend them, and they justly do punish us. I am sorry, that with thy exclamations and complaints thou slaunderest thy neighbours: for as thou know'st, one neighbour, always envieth another, in especially the poor, the rich. And according to my counsel, thou shooldst dissemble thy pain, and take all things in good part: for if perhaps thy riches have caused thy sorrow, thy patience will move them to compassion. I am sorry thou complainest of thy fortune: For fortune (sith she is known of all) doth not suffer herself to be defamed of one: and it is better to think with fortune how thou mayst remedy it, then to think with what grief to complain. For they are divers men, which to publish their pain are very careful: but to seek remedy, are as negligent. O poor innocent Mercurius, after so long forgetfulness, art thou more advised to complain of fortune again? & datest thou defy fortune, with whom all we have peace? We unbend our bows, and thou wilt charge thy lances: thou know'st not what war meaneth, and yet thou wilt win the victory: all are deceived, and wilt thou alone go safe? What wilt thou more I say unto thee, since I see thee commit thyself to fortune? Dost thou know, that it is she that beateth down the high walls, and defendeth the town dyches: know'st thou not, that it is she that peopleth the unhabitable deserts, and dyspeopleth the peopled Cities? Know'st thou not, that it is she that of enemies maketh friends, and of friends enemies? Knowest thou not, that it is she that conquereth the conquerors? Know'st thou not, that it is she that of traitors maketh faithful, and of faithful suspicious? finally I will thou know, that fortune is she which turneth realms, breaketh armies, abasheth kings, raiseth tyrants, giveth life to the dead, and berieth the living. Dost thou not remember, that the second king of the Lacedæmonians had over his gates such words.  

¶ The palace here behold, where men do strive, by fruitless toil, to conquer what they can. And fortune ocke that prince's fancies rive, by his unbridled will, that always won.  
Certainly these words were high, and proceeded of a high understanding. And if in this case. I may be believed, they ought to be well noted of wise men, & not written before the gates, but imprinted within the hearts. Better knew he fortune than thou, since he took himself for one disherited, and not as heir: and when he lost any thing as thou, he knew that he received it by loan, and not that it was his own. Men in this life are not so much deceived for any thing, as to think that the temporal goods should remain with them during life. Now that god doth suffer it, now that our woeful fortune doth deserve it, I see no greater mishaps fall unto any, then unto them which have the greatest estates and riches: so that truly we may boldly say, that he alone which is shut in the grave, is in safeguard from the unconstancy of fortune. Thy messenger hath told me further, that this summer thou preparedst thyself to Rome, & now that it is winter thou wilt sail to Alexandria. O thou unhappy Mercury, tell me I pray thee how long it is, sithence thou lost thy sensis? forasmuch as when this life doth end, thy avarice beeginneth a new? Thou foundest two cities very meet for thy traffyck, that is to weet, Rome, which is the scourge of all virtues: and Alexandria which is the chiefest of all vices. And if thou lovest greatly these two cities, here I pray thee what merchandise are sold therein. In Rome, thou shalt load thy body with vices: and in Alexandria, thou shalt swell thy heart with cares. By the faith of a good man I swear unto thee, that if perchance thou buyest any thing of that that is there, or sellest aught of that thou bringest from thence: thou shalt have greater hunger of that thou shalt leave, than contentation of that thou shalt bring. Thou dost not remember that we are in winter, and that thou must pass the sea, in the which if the Pirates do not deceive me, the surest tranquyllyty, is a sign of the greatest torment. Thou might'st tell me, that thy ships should return without frayt, and therefore they shall sail more surely. To this I answer thee, that thou shalt send them more laden with covetousness: then they shall return laden with silks. O what a good change should it be, if the avarice of Italy cooled be changed, for the silk of Alexandry. I swear unto thee, that in such case thy silk would freight a ship: and our covetise would load a whole navy. That covetousness is great, which the shame of the world doth not oppress: neither the fear of death doth cause to cease. And this I say for thee, that sithence in this dangerous time thou durst sail, either wisdom wanteth, or else avarice and covetousness surmounteth. To satisfy me, and to excuse thee with those which speak to me of thee, I can not tell what to say unto them, but that GOD hath forgotten thee, and the seas do know thee. I pray thee what goest thou to seek, since thou leavest the governance of thy house, and sailest in Alexandrie? Peradventure thou goest to the gulf Arpyn, where the mariners cast in thy lead?  
Take heed Mercury, and consider well what thou dost, for peradventure where as thou thinkest to take from the fish the hard lead, thou mayst leave unto them thy soft flesh. I have known many in Rome, which for to recover one part of that that they have lost, have lost all that which was left unto them. O my friend Mercury, note, note, note well this last word, whereby thou shalt know what it is that you covetous men gape for in this life. Thou seekest care for thyself, envy for the neighbours, spurs for strangers, a bait for thieves, troubles for thy body, damnation for thy renown, unquietness for thy life, annoyance for thy friends, and occasion for thy enemies. Finally thou searchest maledictions for thy heirs: and long suits for thy children: I can not write any more unto thee, because the fever doth so behemently vex me. I pray thee, pray to the gods of Samia for me: for medicines little profiteth, if the gods be angry with us. My wife Faustine saluteth thee, and she sayeth that she is sorry for thy loss: she sendeth thee a rich jewel for Fabilla thy daughter, and I send thee a commission to th'end they shall give thee a ship in recompense of thy lead. If thou sailest with it, come not by Rhodes, for we have taken it from their pirates. The gods be in thy custody, & give me and Faustine a good life with ours, & a good name among strangers. I do not write unto thee with mine own hand, for that my sickness doth not permit it.    

¶ That Princes and noble men ought to consider the misery of man's nature, and that brute beasts are in some points (reason set a part) to be preferred unto man. Cap. xxxij.  
MYdas the ancient king of Phrigia, was in his government a cruel tyrant, and contented not himself to play the tyrant in his own proper country, but also maintained rovers on the sea, and thieves in the land to rob strangers. This king Midas was well known in the realms of orient, and in such sort, that a friend of his of Thebes said unto him these words. I let thee to weet king Midas, that all those of thy own realm do hate thee, and all the other realms of Asia do fear thee: and this not for that thou canst do much, but for the crafts and subtleties which thou usest. By reason where of, all strangers, and all thine own have made a vow to god, never to laugh during the time of thy life: nor yet to weep after thy death. plutarch in the book of pollitiques saith, that when this king Midas was born, the ants brought corn into his cradle, and into his mouth: and when the nurse would have taken it from him, he shut his mouth, and would not suffer any parson to take it from him. They being all amazed with this strange sight, demanded the oracle what this beetokened. Who answered, that the child should be marvelous rich, and with that exceeding covetous: which the ants did beetoken in filling his mouth with corn. And afterwards he would not give them one only grain and even so it chanced, that king Midas was exceeding rich, and also very covetous: for he would never give any thing, but that which by force was taken from him, or by subtlety rob. In the schools of Athens at that time flourished a philosopher called Sylenus, who in letters and pureness of life, was highly renowned. And as king Midas was known of many, to have great treasures: so this philosopher Silenus, was no less noted for despising them. This philosopher Silenus' travailing by the borders of Phrigia, was taken by the thieves which rob the country: and being brought before king Midas, the king said unto him. Thou art a philosopher, and I am a king: thou art my prisoner, and I am thy lord: I will that immediately thou tell me, what ransom thou canst give me to redeem thy parson: for I let thee to weet that I am not contented any phlosopher should perish in my country, because you other philosophers say, that you will willingly renounce the goods of the world, sith you can not have it. The philosopher Silenus answered him. Me thinketh (king Midas) that thou canst better execute tyranny, then to talk of philosophy: for we make no account that our bodies be taken, but that our wills be at liberty. Thy demand is very simple, to demand ransom of me for my parson, whether thou takest me for a philosopher or no. If I be not a philosopher, what moveth thee to fear to keep me in thy realm? for sooner shooldst thou make me a tyrant, than I thee a philosopher. If thou takest me for a philosopher, why dost thou demand money of me? sins thou know'st I am a philosopher, I am a craftsman, I am a poet, and also a musician. So that the time that thou in heaping up riches hast consumed: the self-same time have I in learning sciences spent. Of a philosopher to demand either gold or silver for ransom of his parson, is either a word in mockery, or else an invention of tyranny, For sithence I was borne in the world, riches never came into my hands, nor after them hath my heart lusted. If thou (king Midas) would give me audience and in the faith of a prince believe me, I would tell thee what is the greatest thing, and next unto that the second, that the gods may give in this life: and it may be, that it shallbe so pleasant unto thee to here, and so profitable for thy life, that thou wilt pluck me from my enemies, and I may dissuade thee from tyrannies. When king Midas hard these words, he gave him licence to say these two things, swearing unto him to hear him with as much patience as was possible. The philosopher Silenus, having licence to speak freely, taking an instrument in his hands, beeganne to play and sing in this wise.  

The senate of the gods when they forethought  
On earthly wights to still some rial grace,  
the chiefest gift the heavenly powers had wrought  
had been to sow his seed in barren place.   

But when by steps of such divine constraint,  
they forced man perforce to fix his line,  
The highest good to help his bootless plaint  
had been to slip, his race of slender twine.   

For then the tender babes both want to know  
the dear delight that life doth after hale  
And eke the dread, that griefly death doth show  
Er Charon's boat, to Stigeanshore doth sal●   
THese two things the philosopher proved with so high and natural reasons, that it was a marvelous matter to see with what vehemency Sylenas' the philosopher sang them: and with what bitterness Midas the tyrant wept. Without doubt the sentences were marvelous profound, which the philosopher spoke: and great reason had that king to esteem it so much. For if we do prepare ourselves to consider whereof we are, and what we shall be, that is to weet, that we are of earth, and that we shall return to earth: We would not cease to weep nor sigh.  
One of the greatest vanities which I find among the children of vanity is, that they employ themselves to consider the influences of the stars, the nature of the planets, the motion of the heavens, and they will not consider themselves of which consideration they should take some profit.  
For man giving his mind to think on strange things, cometh to forget his own proper. O if we would consider the corruption whereof we are made, the filth whereof we are engendered, the infinite travail wherewith we are borne, the long tediousness wherewith we are nourished, the great necessities and suspicions wherein we live, and above all, the great peril where in we die: I swear, and affirm that in such consideration we find a thousand occasions to wish death, and not one to desire life. The children of vanity are occupied many years in the schools to learn rhetoric, they excercise them selves in philosophy, they here Aristottel, they learn Homer without book, they study Cicero, they are occupied in Xenophon, they hearken Titus Livius, they forget not Aulus Gelius and they know ovid: yet for all this I say, that we can not say that the man knoweth little, which doth know himself. Eschines the philosopher said well, that it is not the least, but the chiefest part of philosophy to know man, and wherefore he was made: for if man would deeply consider what man is, he should find more things in him, which would move him to humble himself, then to stir him to be proud. If we do beeholdyt without passion, and if we do examine it with reason, I know not what there is in man. O miserable and frail nature of man, the which taken by itself is little worth: and compared with an other thing is much less. For man seeth in brute beasts many things which he doth envy: and the beasts do see much more in men, whereon if they had reason, they would have compassion. The excellency of the soul laid aside, and the hope which we have of eternal life, if man do compare the captyvyty of men to the liberty of beasts, with reason we may see, that the beasts do live a peaceable life: and that which men do lead, is but a long death. If we prepare ourselves to consider, from the time that both man and beast come into this world, until such time as they both die, and in how many things the beasts are better than men: with reason we may say, that nature like a pitiful mother hath showed herself to beasts, & that she doth handle us as an injust stepmother. Let us beeginne therefore to declare more particularly the original of the one, and the beginning of the other: & we shall see how much better the brute beasts are endowed, & how the miserable men are disherited.   

¶ The author followeth his purpose, & excellently compareth the misery of men, with the liberty of beasts. Cap. xxxiij.  
WE ought deeply to consider, that no wild nor tame beast is so long before he come to his shape, as the miserable man is: who with corruption of blood & vile matter, is nine months hid in the womb of his mother. We see the beast when she is great (if need require) doth labour all exercises of husbandry: so that she is as ready to labour when she is great, as if she were empty. The contrary happeneth to women, which when they are big with child, are weary with going, troubled to be laid, they ride in chariots through the market places, they eat little, they brook not that they have eaten, they hate that which is profitable, & love that which doth them harm: Finally a woman with child is contented with nothing, and she fretteth and vexeth with herself. Sithence therefore it is true, that we are noisome and troublesome to our mothers, when they bear us in their wombs: why do not we give them some safe conduct, when they are in their delivering? O miserable state of man, since the brute beasts are borne without destroying their mothers: but the miserable men before they are born, are troublesome and careful, and in the time of their birth, are both perilous to themselves, and dangerous to their mothers. Which seemeth to be very manifest: for the preparation that man maketh when he will die, that self same aught the woman to do, when she is ready to be delivered. We must also consider, that though a beast hath but two feet, as the birds have, he can go, move, and run, immediately when it cometh forth: but when man is born, he can not go, nor move, & much less run. So that a popingey aught more to be esteemed, which hath no hands: then the man which hath both hands and feet. That which they do to the little babe, is not but a prognostication of that which he ought to suffer in the progress of his life: that is to weet. That as they are not contented to put the evil doer in prison, but they load his hands with irons, & set his feet in the stocks: so in like manner to the miserable man, when he entereth into the charter of his life, immediately they bind both his hands & his feet, & lay him in the cradle. So that the innocent babe is first bound & rolled, before he be embraced, or have suck of the mother. We must note also, that the hour wherein the beast is brought forth, though it know not the Sire which begat it, at the lest it knoweth the dam which brought it forth: which is apparent, for so much as if the mother have milk, the youngling forth with doth suck her teats: & if perchance she have no milk, they go afterwards to hide themselves under her wings: Of the miserable man it is not so, but the day that he is born, he knoweth not the nurse that giveth him suck, neither the father which hath beegotten him, the mother which hath born him, nor yet the midwife which hath received him: moreover he can not see with his eyes, hear with his ears nor judge with the taste, and knoweth neither what it is to touch, or smell: so that we see him, to whom the seygnory over all brute beasts and other things (that are created) pertaineth, to be born the most unable of all other creatures. We must also consider, that though the beast be never so little, yet it can seek for the teats of his mother to suck, or to wander in the fields to feed, or to scrape the dunghilles to eat, or else it goeth to the fountains & rivers to drink, & that he learneth not by the discourse of time, or that any other beast hath taught it, but as soon as it is born, so soon doth it know what thing is necessary for it. The miserable man is not borne with so many present commodities, he can not eat, drink, nor go, make himself ready, ask, nor yet complain, and that which is more, he knoweth not scarcely how to suck, for the mothers oft times would give to their children (if they could) the blood of their heart: and yet they can not cause them to take the milk of their breasts. O great misery of man's nature, forsomuch as the brute beasts as soon as they are come forth of their mother's womb, can know and seek: but when it is offered unto man, he can not know it. We must note also, that to brute beasts nature hath geeven clothing, wherewith they may keep them selves from the heat of Summer, and defend themselves from the cold of winter: which is manifest, for that to lambs and sheep she hath geeven wool, to birds feathers, to hogs bristles, to horses hear, to fish scales, & to snails shells. Finally I say, there is no beast which hath need with his hands to make any garment, nor yet to borrow it of another. Of all this the miserable man is deprived, who is borne all naked, and dieth all naked, not carrying with him one only garment: and if in the time of his life he will use any garment, he must demand of the beasts, both leather and wool: and thereunto he must also put his whole labour and industry.  
I would ask princes, and great lords, if when they are borne, they bring with them any apparel: and when they die, if they carry with them any treasure? To this I answer no: but they die as they are borne, as well the rich as the poor, and the poor as the rich. And admit that in this life fortune doth make difference between us in estates, yet nature in time of our birth, and death, doth make us all equal. We must also think and consider, that forsomuch as nature hath provided the beasts of garments, she hath also taken from them the care of what they ought to eat: for there is no beast that doth either plough, sow, or labour, but doth content herself, and passeth her life either with the little flies of the air, with the corn that she findeth in the highways, with the herbs in the fyelds, with the ants of the earth, with the grapes of the vine, or with the fruits which are fallen. Finally I say, that without care all beasts take their rest, as if the next day following they should have no need to eat. O what a great benefit should god do to the miserable man, if he had taken from him the travail to apparel himself, and the care to search for things to eat. But what shall the poor miserable man do, that before he eateth, he must till, sow, he must reap, and thrash the corn, he must cleanse it, griend it, paste it, and bake it, and it can not be provided without care of mind, nor be done without the proper sweat of the brows. And if perchance any man did provide for himself with the sweat of others, yet shall he live with his own offences. Also in other things the beasts do excel us: for in the flowers, in the leaves, in the herbs, in the straw, in the oats, in the bread, in the flesh, or in the fruit which they eat, or in the water which they drink, they feel no pain, although it be not sweet: nor take any displeasure, though their meats be not savoury. Finally, such as nature hath provided them, without disgysing or making themselves better, they are contented to eat. Man cooled lose nothing, if in this point he agreed with beasts: but I am very sorry, that there are many vicious & proud men, to whom nothing wanteth either to apparail, or eat: but they have to much to maintain themselves, and here with not contended, they are such drunkards to taste of divers wines, and such Epicures to eat of sundry sorts of meats: that oft times they spend more to dress them, than they did cost the buying. Now when the beasts are brought forth, they have knowledge both of that that is profitable, and also of that that is hurtful for them. For we see this, that the sheep flieth the wolf, the cat flieth the dog, the rat flieth the cat, and the chicken the kite: so that the beasts in opening the eyes, do immediately know the friends whom they ought to follow, and the enemies whom they ought to fly. To the miserable man, was utterly denied this so great privilege. For in the world there hath been many beastly men, who hath not only attained that, which they ought to know whiles they lived: but also even as like beasts they passed their days in this life, so they were infamed at the time of their death. O miserable creatures that we are, which live in this wicked world, for we know not what is hurtful for us, what we ought to eat, from what we ought to abstain, nor yet whom we should hate: we do not agree with those whom we ought to love, we know not in whom to put our trust, from whom we ought to fly, nor what it is we ought too choose, nor yet what we ought to forsake. Finally I say, that when we think oft times to enter into a sure haven, within .3. steps afterward we fall headlong into the deep sea. We ought also to consider, that both to wild and tame beasts, nature hath geeven arms, or weapons to defend themselves, and to assault their enemies, as it appeareth, for that to birds she hath geeven wings, to the heart's swiftfeetes, to the Elephants, tusks, to the serpent's scales, to the Eagle talons, to the Falcon a beak, to the lions teeth, to the bulls horns, and to the bears paws, Finally I say, that she hath geeven to the Fox's subtlety to know how to hide themselves in the earth, and to the fishes little fins how to swim in the water. Admit that the wretched men have few enemies, yet in this they are none otherwise privileged then the beasts: for we see (without tears it cannot be told) that the beasts which for the service of men were created, with the self same beasts, men are now adays troubled, and offended. And to the end it seem not we should talk of pleasure, let every man think with himself, what it is that we suffer with the beasts of this life: For the Lions do fear us, the wolves devour our sheep, the dogs do bite us, the cats scratch us, the Bear doth tear us, the serpent's poison us, the Bulls hurt us, with their horns, the birds do overfly us, the rats do trouble us, the spiders do annoy us, and the worst of all is, that a little fly sucketh our blood in the day, & the poor flea doth let us from sleep in the night. O poor and miserable man who for to sustain this wretched life, is enforced to beg all things that he needeth of the beasts. For the beasts do give him wool, the beast do draw him water, the beasts do carry him him from place to place, the beasts do plough the land, and carrieth the corn into their barns. Finally I say, that if the man receive any good, he hath not wherewith to make recompense: & if they do him any evil, he hath nought but the tongue to revenge. We must note also that though a man load a best with stripes, beat her, drive her by the foul ways though he taketh her meat from her, yea though her younglings die: yet for none of all these things she is sad, or sorrowful, and much less doth weep, & though she should weep, she cannot. For beasts little esteem their life, & much less fear death. It is not so of the unhappy and wretched man, which can not but bewail the unthankfulness of their friends, the death of their children, the want which they have of necessities, the case of adversity which do succeed them, the false witness which is brought against them, and a thousand calamities whice do torment their hearts. Finally I say, that the greatest comfort that men have in this life, is to make a river of water with the tears of their eyes. Let us inquire of princes and great lords, what they can do when they are borne, whether they can speak as orators, if they can run as posts, if they can govern themselves as kings, if they can fight as men of war, if they can labour as labourers, if they can work as the masons, if they knew to teach as masters, these little children would answer, that they are not only ignorant of all that we demand of them, but also that they can not understand it. Let us return to ask them what is that they know, since they know nothing of that we have demanded them? they will answer that they can do none other thing, but weep at their birth, and sorrow at their death. Though all those (which sail in this so perilous sea) do rejoice and take pleasure, and seem too sleep sound: yet at the last there cometh the wind of adversity, which maketh them all to know their folly. For if I be not deceived, and if I know any thing of this world: those which I have seen at the time of their birth take ship weeping: I doubt whether they will take land in the grave laughing. O unhappy life (I should say rather death) which the mortals take for life, wherein afterwards we must consume a great time, to learn all arts, sciences, and offices: and yet notwithstanding, that whereof we are ignorant, is more than that which we know. We forget the greatest part save only that of weeping, which no man needeth to learn: for we are borne, and live weeping, and until this present we have seen none die enjoy. We must note also that the beasts do live and die, with the inclinations where with they were borne: that is to weet, that the wolf followeth the sheep, and not the birds: the hounds follow the hares, and not the rats: the sparrow flieth at the birds, and not at the fish: the spider eateth the flies, and not the herbs. Finally I say, that if we let the beast search his meat quietly, we shall not see him geeven to any other thing.  
The contrary of all this happeneth to men, the which though nature hath created feeble, yet God's intention was not they should be malicious: but I am sorry, since they cannot avoid debilyty, that they turn it into malice. The presumption which they have to be good, they turn to pride: and the desire they have to be innocent, they turn into envy. The fury which they should take against malice, they turn into anger: and the liberality they ought to have with thee good, they convert into avarice. The necessity they have to eat, they turn into gluttony: and the care they ought to have of their conscience, they turn into negligence. Finally I say, that the more strength beasts have, the more they serve: and the less men are worth, somuch the more thanks have they of god. The innocency of the brute beast considered, and the malice of the malicious man marked: without comparison, the company of the brute beast is less hurtful, than the conversation of evil men.  
For in the end, if ye be conversant with a beast, ye have not but to beware of her: but if ye be in company with a man, there is nothing where in ye ought to trust him. We must note also, that it was neither seen, or read, that there was any beast that took care for the grave: but the beasts being dead, some ore torn in pieces with Lions, other dysmembred by the bears, others gnawn with dogs, other remain in the fylds, other are eaten of men, and other by the ants. Finally, the entrails of the one, are the graves of others. It is not so of the miserable man, the which consumeth no small treasure to make his tomb, which is the most vainest thing that is in this miserable life for there is no greater vanity, nor lightness in man, then to be esteemed for his goodlis and sumptuous sepulture, and little to way a good life. I will swear, that at this day all the dead do swear, that they care little if their bodies be buried in the deep Seas, or in the golden tombs, or that the cruel beasts have eaten them, or that they remain in the fields without a grave: so that their souls may be among the celestial companies. Speaking after the law of a christian, I durst say that it profiteth little the body to be among the painted and carved stones: when the miserable soul is burning, in the fiery flames of hell. O miserable creatures, have not we sufficient where with to seek in this life, to procure, to travail, to accomplish, to sigh, and also what to beewayle, with out having such care and anguish, to know where they shallbe buried? Is there any man so vain, that he doth not care that other men should condempn his evil life: so that they praise his rich Tomb? To those that are living I speak and say of those that are dead: that if a man gave them leave to return in to the world, they would be occupied more to correct their excess, and offences: then to adorn and repair their graves and tombs, though they found them fallen down. I cannot tell what to say, more in this case, but to admonish men that it is great folly to make any great account of the graves.   

¶ The Emperor Marcus Aurelius writeth this letter to Domitius a citizen of Capua to comfort him in his exile, being banished for a quarrel beetwixt him and an other about the running of a horse, very comfortable to those that have been in favour and now fallen in disgrace. Cap. xxxiiii.  
Mark the Roman Emperor, borne at mount Celio, to thee Domitius of Capua, wisheth health, and consolation from Gods the only comforters. The bitter winter in these parts, have raised boisterus wynds, and the winds have caused much rain, and the much rain hath caused great moistures: the which engendereth in me sundry diseases. Among the which the gout of my hands is one, and the Siatica in my leg is another. Eschines the philosopher said, that the liberty of the soul and the health of the body, cannot be esteemed to much & much less also be bought for money. Tell me I pray thee, what can he do or what is he worth, that hath neither lyberti, nor health? The divine Plato in his books of his common wealth, reciteth three things.  
The first, that the man which oweth nothing, cannot say that he is poor. For the day that I owe money to another, another and not myself is lord of mine own. The second, the man which is no servant, nor captive, hath not reason to say that any thing may make him unhappy. For fortune in nothing showeth herself so cruel, as to take from us the liberty of this life.  
The third which Plato said, is that among all temporal goods there is none more greater, nor greater felicity, than the treasure of health. For the man which is persecuted with sickness, with riches can have no contentation. In the time of our old fathers, when Rome was well corrected, they did not only ordain the things of their common wealth: but also they provided for that which touched the health of every person. So that they watched to cure the body, and they were circumspect to destroy vices. In the time of Gneus Patroclus, and julius Albus, they say that the city of Rome was ordinarily visited with sickness. Wherefore first they did forbid, that in the month of july, and Augustus, there should be no stews for women. For the blood of the young, was corrupted in venerial acts.  
The second, that no man should bring any fruit from Salon, nor Campania, to sell during these .2. months in Rome. For the delicate ladies of Rome for extreme heat, and the poor for their poverty, did not eat in summer but fruits: and so the market places were full of fruits, and the houses full of agues. The third, they did defend that no inhabitant should be so hardy, to walk after the sun were set. For the young men, through the lightness they used in the nights, took diseases which vexed them in the days.  
The fourth, they did prohibit that no man should be so hardy, to sell openly in Rome wine of Candie, or Spain. For in the great heat of the summer, as the sun is very hot, so the wine as poison doth kill young men.  
The fifth, that they should purge the privyes, and make clean the streets and houses. For of the corruption of the air, is engendered the plague among the people. When Rome was rich, when Rome prospered, all these things were observed in the common wealth. But since Catilina the Tyrant did rebel, since Scylla and Marius did slander it, since Cesar and Pompeius did play the tyrants, since Octavius Augustus and Marcus Antonius did rob it, since Calligula and Nero did defame it, they cared little whither they entered into Rome, to sell the wine of Spain or Candia. For they feared more the knife of the enemies: then the heat of the summer. Great reason had the ancients to forbid those things in Rome, for, to say the troth they are not healthful. When I was young in Rome, my head did not ache with talking in the night, nor I did feel my blood chafed with drinking wine. Then I was not troubled to jest in the heat in the summer, nor I was annoyed to go bare legged in the winter.  
But now that I am old, there is no heat but offendeth me, nor cold but pierceth me. For men through much evil rule in their youth, come to grievous diseases in their age. O if mortal men, after that they be old could at any time work with the gods, that they should become young again: I swear unto thee, by the faith of a good man, that they would behave themselves so well, that the world should not again deceive them. Since men have been vicious in their youth, I do not marvel though they are full of diseases when they are old. For how can he love his health, which hateth virtue? All that which I have spoken here before is to the end you may know and believe that I am sick, and that I cannot write unto the so long as I would, and as thou desirest: so that hereof it followeth, that I shall bewail thy pain, and thou shalt be grieved with my gout. I understood here how at the feast of the god janus, through the running of a horse, great strife is risen between thee and thy neighbour Patricius: And the brute was such, that they have confiscated thy goods, battered thy house, banished thy children, & deprived thee from the Senate for x. years.  
And further, they banished thee out of Capua for ever, & have put thy fellow in the prison Mamortine: so that by this little fury, thou hast cause to lament all the days of thy life. All those which come from thence do tell us, that thou art so woeful in thy heart, and so changed in thy parson: that thou dost not forget thy heavy chances, nor receivest consolation of thy faithful friends.  
Think not that I speak this, that thou shouldest be offended: for according to the often changes which fortune hath showed in me, it is long since I knew what sorrow meant. For truly the man which is sorrowful, sigheth in the day, watcheth, in the night, delighteth not in company, and with only care he resteth. The light he hateth, the darkness he loveth, with bitter tears he watereth the earth, with heavy sighs he pierceth the heavens, with infinite sorrows he remembreth that that is past, and foreseeth nothing that that to come is. He is displeased with him that doth comfort him, and he taketh rest to express his sorrows. Finally, the unfortunate man is contented with nothing, and with himself continually he doth chafe. believe me Domitius, that if I have well touched the conditions of the sorrowful man, it is for no other cause, but for that my evil fortune hath made me taste them all. And hereof it cometh, that I can so well dyscribe them: for in the end, in things which touch the sorrows of the spirit, and the troubles of the body, there is great difference from him that hath read them, and from him that hath felt them. If thou didst feel it there, as I do feel it here, it is sufficient to give thee and thy friends great dolour, to think that for so small a trifle thou shouldest undo thee, and all thy parentage. And speaking with the troth, I am very sorry to see thee cast away: but much more it grieveth me, to see thee drowned in so little a water. When men are noble, and keep their hearts high, they ought to take their enemies agreeable to their estates. I mean, that when a noble man shall adventure to hazard his person, and his goods, he ought to do it for a matter of great importance. For in the end, more defamed is he that overcometh a labourer, than he which is overcome with a knight. O how variable is fortune, and in how short space doth happen an evil fortune? in that which now I will speak, I do condemn myself, and accuse thee. I complain to the Gods, I reclaim the dead, and I call the living, to the end they may see, how that before our eyes we suffer the greases, and know them not, with the hands we touch them, and perceive them not, we go over them and see them not, they sound in our ears, and we hear them not, daily they do admonish us, and we do not believe them: finally we feel the peril, where there is no remedy of our grief. For as experience doth teach us, with a little blast of wind the fruit do fall, with a little spark of fire the house is kindled, with a little rock the ship is broken, at a little stone the foot doth stumble, with a little hook they take great fish, and with a little wound dieth a great person.  
For all that I have spoken, I mean, that our life is so frail and fortune so fykcle, that in that part where we are surest harnessed, we are soon wounded. Seneca writing to his mother Albina, which was banished from Rome, said.  
Thou Albina art my mother and I thy son, thou art aged and I am not young, I never beeleved in fortune, though she would promise to be in peace with me. And further he said, all that which is in me, I count it at the disposition of fortune, aswell of riches, as of prosperity: and: I keep them in such a place, that at any hour in the night when she listeth, she may carry them away, & never wake me. So the though she carry those out of my coffers yet she should not rob me of this in my entrails. With out doubt such words were marvelous pithy, and very decent for such a wise man.  
The Emperor Adryan my Lord, did wear a ring of gold on his finger which he said was of the good Drusius Germanicus, and the word about the ring in latin letters said thus. Illis est gravis fortuna, quibus est repentina. Fortune to them is most cruel, whom suddenly she assaulteth. We see oftentimes by experience, that in the fistula which is stopped, and not in that which is open, the Surgeon maketh doubt. In the shallow water, and not in the deep seas, the Pilot despaireth. The good man of arms is more afraid of the secret ambushment, then in the open battle. I mean, that the valiant man ought to beware, not of strangers, but of his own, not of enemies but of friends, not of the the cruel war, but of the feigned peace, not of the manifest damage, but of the privy peril. O how many we have seen, whom the mishaps of fortune cooled never change, and yet afterward having no care she hath made them fall. I ask now, what hope can man have, which will never trust to the prosperity of fortune? Since for so light a thing, we have seen such trouble in Capua, and so great loss of thy person and goods? If we knew fortune, we would not make so great complaint of her.  
For speaking the troth, as she is for all, and would content all, though in the end she mock all, she giveth and showeth us all her goods, and we others take them for inheritance. That which she dareth us, we take it for perpetual, that which in jest she giveth us, we take it in good earnest, & in the end, as she is the mocker of all, so she goeth mocking of us, thinking that she giveth us another man's, and she taketh our own proper. I let thee wit, that knowing that of fortune which I know, I fear not the turmoils of her travails neither doth her lightnings or thunders astony me, nor yet will I not esteem the pleasantness, of her goodly fair flatteries. I will not trust her sweet rejoicings, neither will I make account of her friendships, nor I will join myself with her enemies, nor I will take any pleasure of the she giveth me, neither grief of that she taketh from me, nor I will have respect when she telleth me truth, nor I do not regard it, though she tell me a lie.  
Finally, I will not laugh for that she asketh me, nor I will weep for that she sendeth me. I will now tell thee (my friend Domitius) one thing, and heartily I desire thee to keep it in memory. Our, life is so doubtful, and fortune so sudden that when she threateneth, she striketh not always, neither doth she threaten always when she striketh. The man which presumeth to be sage, and in all things well provided, goeth not so fast, that at every step he is in danger of falling, nor so softly, that in long time he cannot aryve at his journeys end. For the false fortune gauleth in steed of striking, & in steed of galling striketh:  
Therefore since in years I am older than thou, and have more experience of affairs: if thou hast marked that I have told thee, thou wilt remember well that which I will say unto thee, which is: that that part of thy life is troublesome, which unto the seemeth to be most sure. wilt thou that by example I tell thee all that, which by words I have spoken? Behold Hercules of Thebes, who escaped so many dangers, both by sea and by land, and afterwards came to die in the arms of a harlot. Agamemnon the great Captain of Greeks in the x. years which he warred against Troy, never had any peril: and afterwards in the night, they killed him entering into his own house.  
The unuincyble Alexander the great, in all the conquests of Asia did not die, and afterwards with a little poison, ended his life in Babylon. Pompeius' the great, died not in the conquest of his enemies: and afterwards his friend Ptholomeus slew him. The couragyus julius Cesar, in lii battles could not be overcome: and afterwards in the Senate, they slew him with xxiii. wounds.  
Hannibal, the terrible captain of Carthage, slew himself in one moment (which the Romans could not do, in xvii. years') only because he would not come into the hands of his enemies. Asclipius medius, brother of great Pompeius, in xx. years that he was a rover on the seas, never was in any peril: afterwards drawing water out of a well, was drowned therein. Ten Captains, whom Scipio had chosen in the conquest of Africa, jesting on a bridge, fell into the water, and there were drowned. The good Bibulus going triumphing in his chariot at Rome, a tile fell on his head: so that his vain glory was the end of his good life. What wilt thou more I say unto thee, but that Lucia my sister having a needel on her breast, & her child between her arms: the child laying his hand upon the needell, and thrust it into her breast, whereby the mother died. Gneus Ruffirius: Which was a very wise man, and also my kinsman, one day keaming his white hears, struck a tooth of the comb in his head, wherewith he gave himself a mortal wound: so that in short space after his life had end, but not his doctrine, nor memory. How thinkest thou Domitius: by the immortal gods I swear unto thee, that as I have declared to thee this small number, so I cooled recite thee other infinite. What mishap is this after so many fortunes? what reproach after such glory? What peril after such surety? what evil luck, after such good success? What dark night after so clear a day? What so evil entertainment, after so great labour? What sentence so cruel, after so long process? O what inconvenience of death, after so good beginning of life? Being in their stead, I can not tell what I would but I had rather choose unfortunate life & honourable death: then an infamous death, and honourable life. That man which will be counted for a good man and not noted for a brute beast, ought greatly to travail to live well, and much more to die better. For the evil death maketh men doubt that the life hath not been good, and the good death is the excuse of an evil life. At the beginning of my letter I wrote unto thee, how that the gout troubleth me evil in my hand. I say it were to much to write any longer, & though the letter be not of mine own hand, these two days the love that I bear thee, and the grief that holdeth me, have strived together. My will desireth to write, and my fingers cannot hold the pen. The remedy hereof is that since I have no power to do what I would as thine, thou oughtest to accept what I can as mine. I say no more herein, but as they tell me thou buildest now a house in Rhodes: wherefore I send thee a thousand sexterces to accomplish the same. My wife Faustine saluteth thee, who for thy pain is sore diseased. They tell us thou hast been hurt, wherefore she sendeth thee a weight of the balm of palestine. heal thy face therewith, to the end the scars of that wound do not appear. If thou findest green almonds, and new nuts, Faustine desireth thee that thou wilt send her some. By another man she sendeth a gown for thee, and a kirtle for thy wife. I conclude, and do beseech thee immortal Gods to give thee all that I desire for thee, and that they give me all that thou wyshest me. Though by the hands of others I write unto thee, yet with my heart I love thee.   

¶ That Princes and noble men ought to be advocates for widows, fathers of orphans, and helpers of all those which are comfortless. Cap. xxxv.  
MAcrobius in the third book of the Saturnalles saith, that in the noble city of Athens, there was a temple called Misericordia, which the Athenians kept so well watched, and locked, that without leave and licence of the Senate no man might enter in. There were the Images of pitiful princes only, and none entered in there to pray but pitiful men.  
The athenians abhorred always severe and cruel deeds, because they would not be noted cruel. And thereof cometh this manner of saying, that the greatest injury they could say unto a man was, that he had never entered into the school of the philosophers to learn, nor in to the temple of Misericordia to pray. So that in the one, they noted him for simple: and in the other they accused him for cruel. The historiographers say that the most noble lineage that was at that time, was of a king of Athens, the which was exceeding rich and liberal in giving: and above all very pitiful in pardoning. Of whom it is written, that after the great treasures which he had offered in the temples, and the great riches he had distributed to the poor: he took upon him to bring up all the orphans in Athens, and to feed all the widows. O how much more did that statut of the said pitiful king shine in that temple, who nourished the orphans, than the ensigns which are set up in the Temples of the captains, which had rob the widows. All the ancient princes, I say those that have been noble and valiant, and that have not had the name of tyrants, though in some things they were noted: yet they always have been praised, esteemed, and commended to be gentle and merciful: so that they recompensed the fierceness and cruelty which they show to their enemies, with the mercy & clemency which they used to the orphans. Plutarch in his politics sayeth: that the romans among themselves ordained, that all that which remained of banquets & feasts, which were made at marriages and triumphs, should be geeven to widows, and orphans. And this custom was brought to so good an order that if any rich man would use his profit of that which remained, that orphans might justly have an action of felony against him as a thing rob from them. Aristides the philosopher in an oration he made of the excellency of Rome sayeth that the princes of Persia had this custom, never to dine nor sup, but first the trumpets should blow at their gates: the which were more loud, then armonious. And it was to this end, that all the widows & orphans should come thither: for it was a law amongst them, that all that which was left at the royal tables, should be for the poor and indigent persons. Phalaris the tyrant writing to a friend of his, said these words. I have received thy brieef letter, with the rebuke likewise which thou gavest me therein, more bitter than tedious. And admit that for the time it grieved me, yet after I came to myself, I received thereby great comfort. For in the end, one loving rebuke of his friend is more worth: then a feigned flattery of his enemy. Amongst the things whereof thou accusest me, thou sayest that they take me for a great tyrant, because I disobey the gods, spoil the temples, kill the priests, pursue the innocents, rob the people: and the worst of all that I do not suffer me to be entreated, nor permit that any man be conversant with me. To that they say I disobey the gods, in very deed they say true. For if I did all that the gods would, I should do little of that men do ask me. For as much as they say I rob the temples, thereunto also I grant: For the immortal gods do demand rather of us pure hearts, then that we should build their temples. For that they say I kill priests, I confess also that it is true. For they are so dissolute, that I think I do more services to the gods, to put them to death: then they do in doing their sacrifices whiles they live. For that they say I rob the temples, I also confess it: for I defending it as I do from enemies, it is but meet and reasonable they find me and my servants. Fo● that they say I suffer me not to be entreated, it is true. For daily and hourly they ask me so many unjust, & unreasonable things, that for them and for me it is better to denay them: then for to grant them. For that they say that I am not conversant with any, I confess it is true. For ever when they come into my palace, it is not so much to do me service, as to ask me some particular thing for their profit. For that they say I am not pitiful amongst the miserable, & will not hear the widows, and orphans, in no wise to that I will agree: For I swear unto thee, by the immortal gods, that my gates were never shut to widowees, and orphans. Pulio in the life of the Emperor Claudius saith, that onhis a poor widow came before Claudius the Emperor with weeping eyes, to desire him of justice. The good prince being moved with compassion, did not only weep as she: but with his own hands dried her tears. And as there was about the emperor many noble Romans, one amongst them said unto him. For the authority & gravity of roman princes, to hear their subjects in justice, sufficeth only: though they dry not the tears of their faces. This emperor Claudius answered. Good princes ought not to be contented, to do no more than just judges: but in doing justice, a man must know that they are pitiful. For oftentimes those which come before princes, do return more contented with the love they show them: than with the justice they minister unto them. And further he said. For as much as you say that it is of small aucthoryty, and also of less gravity, that a prince do weep with a widow, and with his hands wipe her eyes, I answer: thee that I desire rather to be partaker of the griefs with my subjects, then to give them occasion to have their eyes full of tears.  
Certainly these words are worthy to be noted, and no less followed.  
Admit that clemency in all things deserveth to be praised, yet much more ought it to be commended, when it is executed on weemen. And if generally in all, much more in those which are void of health, and comfort. For weemen are quickly troubled, and with greater difficulty comforted.  
Plutatche, and Quintus Curtius say, the good entertainment which Alexander the great, showed unto the wife and children of king Darius (after he was utterly vanquished) exalted his clemency: in such sort, that they gave rather more glory to Alexander, for the pity and honesty which he used with the children, then for the victory he had of the father. And when the unhappy king Darius knew the clemency and pity, which the good Alexander used to his wife, and his children, he sent unto him his ambassadors, to the end that on his beehalf they should thank him for that that is past, and should desire him that he would continue so in time to come: saying, that it might chance, that the Gods and fortune would mitigat their wrath against him.  
Alexander answered to the ambassadors these words, Ye shall say in my beehalf to your king Darius, that he give me no thanks for the good and pitiful work that I have done to his captive weemen, since he is certain I did it not for that he was my friend: and I would not cease to do it, for that he is mine enemy. But I have done it, for that a gentle Prince is bound to do in such a case. For I ought to employ my clemency to weemen, which can do nought but weep: & my puissant power Princes shall feel, which can do nought else but wage battle. Truly these words were worthy of such a prince, Many have envy at the surname of Alexander, which is great. And he is called Alexander the great, because if his heart was great in the enterprises he took upon him, his courage was much more greater in cities & realms which he gave. Many have envy at that renown which they give Pompeius, because they call him great, for this excellent roman made himself conqueror of .22. realms, & in times past hath been accompanied with 25. kings. Many have envy at the renown of Scipio the African, who was called Affricane, because he overcame and conquered the great and renowned city of Carthage: the which city in riches was greater than Rome, in arms & power it surmounted all Europe. Many have envy at Scipio the Asian, who was called Asian, because he subdued the proud Asia: the which until his time was not but as a church yard of Romans. Many have great envy at the immortal name of Charles, who was called Charles the great, because being as he was (a little king) he did not only vanquish and triumph over many kings, and strange realms: but also forsake the royal sea of his own realm.  
I do not maruayl, that the proud princes have envy against the virtuous and valiant princes: but if I were as they, I would have more envy at the renown of Antonius the emperor, then of the name and renown of all the princes in the world. If other princes have attained such proud names, it hath been for that they rob many countries, spoiled many temples, committed much tyranny, dissembled with many tyrants, persecuted divers innocents, & because they have taken, from divers good men, not only their goods but also their lives: For the world hath such an evil property, that to exalt the name of one only, he putteth down, 500 Neither in such enterprises, nor with such titles, won the emperor Antonius Pius his name, and renown. But if they call him Anotonius the pitiful, it is because he knew not but to be father of Orphans: and was not praised, but because he was advocate of widows. Of this most excellent prince is read, that he himself did here, and judge the complaints and process in Rome of the orphans: And for the poor, and widows, the gates of his palace were always open? So that the porters which he kept within his palace, were not for to let the entry of the poor: but for to let and keep back the rich. The historiographers oftentimes say, that this good prince said, that the good and virtuous princes, ought always to have their hearts open for the poor, and to remedy the widows, and never to shut the gates against them. The god Apollo saith, that the prince which will not speedily judge the causes of the poor, the gods will never permit that he be well obeyed of the rich. O high and worthy words, that it pleased not the god Apollo, but our living god, that they were written in the hearts of princes. For nothing can be more unjust or dishonest, then that in the palace of princes and great lords, the rich and fools should be dispatched: and the widows and orphans friends should have no audience, Happy, and not once, but a hundredth times happy is he, that will remember the poor afflicted, and open his hand too comfort them, and doth not shut his coffers from helping them, unto him I assure and promise, that at the straight day of judgement, the process of his life shall be judged with mercy and pity.   

¶ That the troubles griefs, and sorrows of widows are much greater, than those of widowers: where fore princes and noble men ought to have more compassion upon the weemen: then on men. Cap. xxxvi.  
IT is great pity to see a noble and virtuous man sorrowful, alone and a widower, if especially he lived contented when he was married. For if he will not marry, he hath lost his sweet company: and if he think to marry an other, let him be assured he shall scarcely agree with his second wife. There is much sorrow in that house, where the woman that governed it is dead: For immediately the husband forsaketh himself, the children do lose their obedience, the servants become negligent, the hand maids become wanton, the friends are forgotten, the house decayeth, the goods waste, the apparel is lost: & finally in the widowers house there are many to rob & few to labour. Heavy & lamentable are the thoughts of the widower: for if he thinketh to marry, it grieveth him to give his children a stepmother. If he can not be married, he feeleth greater pain, seeing him all the day to remain alone: so that the poor miserable man sigheth for his wife he hath lost, & weary for her whom he desireth to have. Admit that this be true, there is great difference from the cares & sorrows of weemen, to that of men. A thing very clear, for so much as the widower lawfully may go out of his house, he may go to the fields, he may talk with his neighbours, he may be occupied with his friends, he may follow his suits & also he may be conversant, & refresh himself in honest places. For commonly men are not so sorrowful in taking the death of their wives, as the wives are, in taking the death of their husbands. All this is not spoken in the disfavour of wise and sage men, whom we see make small streams, with the tears of their eyes for the death of their wives: But for many other vain & light men: which (the 9 days of the funeral passed) a man doth see without any shame to go thro' ought the strets, beholding the ladies and damsels which are in the windows. Truly the woeful women, which are honest, use not such lightness. For whiles they are widows, it is not lawful for them to wander abroad, to go out of the house, nor speak with strangers, nor practise with her own, nor be conversant with her neighbours, nor plead with their creditors, but agreeable to their woeful estate, to hide and withdraw themselves in their houses, and to lock themselves in their chambers: and they think it their duty, to water their plants with tears, and importune the heavens with sighs. O how woeful? o how grievous? o how sorrowful is the state of widows? for so much as if a widow go out of her house, they take her for dishonest. If she will not come out of the house, she loseth her goods: If she laugh a little they count her light, If she laugh not, they call her an hypocrite. If she go to the church, they note her for a gadder. If she go not to the church, they say she is unthankful to her late husband. If she go il appareled they count her to be a niggard. If she go cleanly and handsome they say nowshee would have a new husband. If she do maintain herself honestly, they note her to be presumptuous. If she keep company, immediately they suspect her house.  
Finally I say, that the poor miserable widows shall find a thousand which judge their lives, and they have not one that will remedy their pains. Much loseth the woman, who loseth her mother which hath borne her or her sisters which she loveth, or the friends which she knoweth, or the goods which she hath heaped up: but I say and affirm, that there is no greater loss in the world unto a woman, than the loss of a good husband. For in other losses there is but one only loss: but in that of the husband, all are lost together. After that the wife doth see her loving husband in the grave, I would ask her what good could remain with her in her house? Since we know, that if her husband were good, he was the haven of all her troubles, the remedy of all her necessities, the inventor of all her pleasures, the true love of her heart, the true lord of her parson, and the idol whom she honoured: finally he was the faithful steward of her house, and the good father of her children and family. Whether family remaineth or not, whither children remaineth or not, in the one and in the other, trouble and vexation remaineth most assuredly to the poor widow. If perchance she remain poor, and have no goods, let every man imagine what her life can be. For the poor miserable unhappy woman, either will adventure her parson to get, or will lose her honesty to demand. An honest woman, a noble & worthy woman, a delicate woman a sweet woman, a woman of renown, a woman that ought to maintain children, and family, aught to have great reason to be full of anguish and sorrow: to see, that if she will maintain herself which the needle she shall not have sufficiently to find herself bread and water. If she gain with her body she loseth her soul. If she must demand others, she is sahamed. If she fulfil the testament of her husband, she must sell her gowns If she will not pay his detts, they cause her to be brought before the judge. As women naturally are tender, what heart will suffer them to suffer such inconveniences? and what eyes can abstain to shed infinite tears? If perchance goods do remain to the miserable widow, she hath no little care to keep them? She is at great charges and expenses, to sustain, and maintain herself in long suit about her lands, much trouble to augment them, and in the end, much sorrow to departed from them.  
For all her children, and heirs, do occupy themselves more to think, how they might inherit: then in what sort they ought to serve her. When I came to this passage, a great while I kept my pen in suspense, to see whither I ought to touch this matter or no, that is to weet, that oftentimes the poor widows put openly the demand of their goods: and the judges do secretly demand the possession of their parson. So that first they do injury to her honour, before they do minister justice to her demands. Though perchance she hath no child, yet therefore she remaineth not without any comfort, and for that the parents of her husband do spoil her of her goods. For in this case their heirs often times are so disordered, that for a worn cloak, or for a broken shirt, they trouble and sore vex the poor widow. If perchance the miserable widow have children, I say that in this case she hath double sorrow. For if they are young, she endureth much pain to bring them up: so that each hour and moment, their mothers live in great sorrows, to think only of the life, and health of their children. If perhaps the children are old, truly the griefs which remain unto them are no less. For so much as the greatest part of them are either proud, disobedient, malicious, negligent, adulterers, gluttons, blasphemers, false liars, dull headed, wanting wit, or sickly.  
So that the joy of the woeful mothers is to beewayl the death of their well-beloved husbands, and to remedy the discords of their youthful children. If the troubles which remain to the mothers with the sons be great: I say that those which they have with their daughters, be much more. For if the daughter be quick of wit, the mother thinketh that she shallbe undone. If she be simple, she thinketh that every man will deceive her. If she be fair, she hath enough to do to keep her. If she be deformed: she cannot marry her. If she be well mannered, she will not let her go from her. If she be evil mannered, she cannot endure her. If she be to solitary, she hath not wherewith to remedy her. If she be dissolute, she will not suffer her to be punished. Finally, if she put her from her, she feareth she shallbe sclaundeted. If she leave her in her house, she is afraid she shallbe stolen. What shall the woeful poor widow do, seeing herself burdened with daughters, & environed with sons, and neither of them of such sufficient age, that there is any time to remedy them: nor substance to maintain them? Admit that she marry one of her sons, and one daughter, I demand therefore if the poor widow will leave her care, and anguish? Truly I say no, though she choose rich personages, and well disposed, she cannot escape, but the day that she replenisheth herself with daughters in law, the same day she chargeth her heart with sorrows, travels, and cares. O poor widows, deceive not yourselves, and do not immagin that having married your sons, & daughters, from that time forward ye shall live more joyful and contented. For that laid aside, which their nephews do demand them, and that their sons in law do rob them: when the poor old woman thinketh to be most surest, the young man shall make a claim to her goods. What daughter in law is there in this world, who faithfully loveth her stepmother? And what son in law is there in the world, the desireth not to be heir to his father in law? Suppose a poor widow to be fallen sick, the which hath in her house a son in law, and that a man ask him upon his oath, which of these two things he had rather have: either to govern his mother in law, with hope to heal her: or to bury her, with hope to inherit her goods. I swear that such would swear, that he cooled rejoice more to give a ducat for the grave: then a penny to the physician, to purge and heal her. Seneca in an epistle saith, that the fathers in law naturally love their daughters in law, & the sons in law are loved of their mothers in law. And for the contrary he saith, that naturally the sons in law do hate their mothers in law: But I take it not for a general rule, for there are mothers in law which deserve to be worshipped, and there are sons in law which are not worthy to be beloved. Other troubles chance daily to these poor widows, which is, that when one of them hath one only son, whom she hath in the steed of a husband, in steed of a brother, in steed of a son, she shall see him die: whom sith she had his life in such great love, she cannot though she would, take his death with patience: So that as they bury the dead body of the innocent child, they bury the lively heart of the woeful mother. Let us omit the sorrows which the mothers have when their children die, and let us ask the mothers what they feel when they are sick? They will answer us, that always and as often times as their children be sick, the death of their husbands then is renewed, imagining that it will happen so unto them, as it hath done unto others. And to say the truth, it is not marvel if they do fear. For the vine is in greater peril, when it is budded, then when the grapes are ripe. Other troubles oftentimes increase to the poor widows, the which amongst others this is not the least: that is to weet, the little regard of the friends of her husband, and the unthankfulness of those which have been brought up with him. The which since he was laid in his grave, never entered into the gates of his house: but to demand recompense of their old services, and to renew and begin new suits. I would have declared (or to say better, briefly touched) the travels of widows, to persuade princes that they remedy them, and to admonish judges to hear them, and to desire all virtuous men to comfort them. For the work of itself is so godly, that he deserveth more which remedyeth the troubles of one only: then I which writ their miseries all together.   

¶ Of a letter which the Emperor Marcus Aurelius wrote to a roman Lady named Lavinia, comforting her for the death of her husband. Cap. xxxvii.  
MArcus of mount Celio, Emperor of Rome, chief consul, tribune of the people, high Bishop, appointed against the Daces, wisheth health and comfort to thee Lavinia, noble, and worthy roman matron, the late wife of the good Claudinus. According to that thy person deserveth, to that which unto thy husband I ought, I think well that thou wilt suspect that I way thee little: for that unto thy great sorrows, complaints, & lamentations, are now arrived my negligent consolations. When I remember thy merits, which can not fail, & imagine that the wilt remember my good will, wherewith always I have desired to serve thee: I am assured, that if thy suspicion accuse me, thy virtue and wisdom will defend me. For speaking the truth, though I am the last to comfort thee: yet I was the first to feel thy sorrows. As ignorance is the cruel scourge of virtues, and spur to all vices: so it chanceth oft times, that over much knowledge, putteth wise men in doubt, & slandereth the innocent. For as much as we see by experience, the most presumptuous in wisdom, are those which fall into most perilous vices. We find the latins much better with the ignorance of vices: then the Greeks with the knowledge of virtues. And the reason hereof is, for that of things which we are ignorant we have no pain to attain unto them: and less grief also to lose them. My intention to tell thee this was, because I knew that, which I would not have known, and have hard that, which I would not have hard: that is to weet, that the days and troubles of Claudinus thy husband are ended, & now thy sorrows (Lavinia his wife) do begin. It is now a good while, that I have known of the death of the good Claudinus my friend, & thy husband, though I did dissemble it. And by the god Mars I swear unto thee, that it was not for that I would not beewayl him, but because I would not discomfort thee. For it were extreme cruelty, that she which was so comfortless, & sorrowful, for the absence of so long time: should be killed with my hand, through the knowledge of the death of her so desired husband. It were to unkind & unseemly a thing, that she, of whom I have received so many good works: should receive of me so evil news. The ancients of Carthage held for an inviolable law, that if the father did tell the death of his son, or the son the death of the father, or the woman the death of her husband, or the husband the death of his wife, or any other semblable woeful, & lamentable death: that he should be cast into the prison, among them which were condemned to die. It seemed to those of Carthage, that he which said unto an other, that his brother, kinsman, or friend, was dead, immediately they should kill him, or he ought to die, or at the least he should never be seen in his presence. If in this case the law of the Carthagians was just: then I ought to be excused, though I have not told thee this heavy news. For as oft as we see him, who hath brought us any evil tidings: our sorrows by his sight is renewed again. Since Claudinus thy husband died, I have not had one hour of rest, for to pass thy time away: for fear lest such woeful & sorrowful news, should come to thy knowledge. But now that I know thou know'st it, I feel double pain. For now I feel his death, my care, and thy want of consolation: & the damage by his death shall follow to the roman Empire. Thou hast lost a noble roman, valiant in blood, moderate in prosperityes, patient in adversities, courageous in dangers, diligent in affairs, wise in counsels, faithful to his friends, subtle & aware of his enemies, a lover of the common wealth, & very honest in his person: & above all, & whereof I have most envy is, that he never offended man in his life, nor hurt any with his tongue. We find seldom times, so many virtues assembled in one man.  
For saying the truth, if a man did narrowly examine the vices of many, which presume to be very virtuous: I swear that he should find more to reprove, then to praise. Since thou hast lost so good a husband, & I so faithful a friend: we are bound, thou to beewayl so great a loss, & I to sigh for so good a companion. And this I do not desire for Claudine, who now resteth among the gods: but for us others, which remain in danger of so many evils. For the dead do rest, as in the sure haven: & we others do sail, as yet in raging sea. O thou heavy heart, how do I see thee, between the bell & the clappers, that is to weet, that thou wantest the company of the good: & art environed with the flock of evil. For the which occasion, I doubt often times, whether I may first bewail the evil which live: or the good which are dead, because in the end the evil men do offend us more, which we find: then doth the good men which we lose. It is a great pity, to see the good & virtuous men die: but I take it to be more sorrow, to see the evil & vicious men live. As the divine Plato saith, the gods to kill the good which serve them, & to give long life to the evil which offend them, is a mystery so profound, that daily we do lament it, and yet we can never attain to the secrets thereof. Tell me I pray thee Lavinia, know'st thou not now, that the gods are so merciful, with whom we go when we die, & that men are so wicked, with whom we be whiles we live: that as the evil were born to die, so the good die to live? for the good man though he die, liveth: & the evil man though he live, dieth. I swear unto thee by the mother Berecinthia, and so the god jupiter do preserve me, that I speak not this which I will speak feignedly: which is, that considering the rest that the dead have with the gods, and seeing the sorrows & troubles we have here with the living: I say, and affirm once again, that they have greater compassion of our life, than we others have sorrow of their death. Though the death of men were as the death of beasts, that is to weet, that there were no furies, nor devils, which should torment the evil, & that the gods should not reward the good: yet we ought to be comforted, to see our friends die, if it were for no other, but to see than delivered from the thraldom of this miserable world. The pleasure that the Pilot hath to be in sure haven, the glory that the captain hath to see the day of victory, the rest that the traveler hath to see his journey ended, the contentation that the work man hath to see his work come to perfection, all the same have the dead, seeing themselves out of this miserable life. If men were born always to live, it were reason to lament them, when we see them die: but since it is troth that they are borne to die, I would say, since needs die we must, that we ought not to lament those which die quickly, but those which live long. I am assured, that Claudine thy husband, remembering that which in this life he hath passed, and suffered, and seeing the rest that he hath in the other: though the Gods would make him emperor of Rome, he would not be one day out of his grave. For returning to the world, he should die again: but being with the gods, he hopeth to live perpetually. Lady Lavinia, most earnestly I desire thee, so vehemently not to pierce the heavens with thy so heavy sighs, ne yet to wit the earth, with thy so bitter tears: since thou know'st, that Claudine thy husband is in place, where there is no sorrow, but mirth, where there is no pain, but rest: where he weary not, but laugheth, where he sigheth not, but singeth, where he hath no sorrows, but pleasures, where he feareth not cruel death, but enjoyeth perpetual life. Since therefore this is true, it is but reason the widow appease her anguish, considering that her husband endureth no pain.  
Often times with myself I have thought, what the widows ought to immagin, when they see themselves in such cares and distress.  
And after my count made, I find that they ought not to think of the company past, nor woeful solitarynes wherein they are presently, and much less they ought to think on the pleasures of this world: but rather to remember the rest in the world to come. For the true widow ought to have her conversation among the living, and her desire to be with the dead. If till this present thou hadst pain, and trouble, to look for thy husband to come home: have thou now joy, that he looketh for thee in heaven, wherein I swear unto thee, that there thou shalt be better used of the gods, than he was here of men. For in this world we know not what glory meaneth, and there they know not what pains are. Licinius and Posthumius thy uncles, told me that thou art so sorrowful, that thou wilt receive no comfort: but in this case I think not, that thou bewailest so much for Claudinus, that thou alone dost think thou hast lost him. For since we did rejoice togethers in his life: we are bound to weep togethers at his death. The heavy and sorrowful hearts, in this world feel no greater grief: then to see others rejoice at their sorrows. And the contrary hereof is, that the woeful and afflicted heart feeleth no greater joy, nor rest in extreme mishaps of fortune, then to think that others have sorrow and grief of their pain. When I am heavy and comfortless, I greatly joy to have my friend by me: and my heart doth tell me, that what I feel, he feeleth: So that all which my friend with his eyes doth beewail, and all that which of my griefs he feeleth, the more therewith he burdeneth himself, and the more thereof he dischargeth me. The Emperor Octavian Augustus (the histories say) on the river of Danuby, found a kind of people which had this strange custom, that with eyes was never seen, nor in books at any time ever read, which was: that two friends assembled, and went to the altars of the temples, and there one friend confederate with an other: so that their hearts were married, as man and wife are married touching their bodies, swearing, and promising there to the gods, never to weep, nor to take sorrow, for any mishap that should come to their persons. So that my friend should come to lament, and remedy my troubles, as if they had been his own: & I should lament, and remedy his, as if they had been mine. O glorious world, O age most happy, O people of eternal memory, wherein men are so gentle, & frendz so faithful: that their own travails they forgot, and the sorrows of strangers they beewayled. O Rome without rome, O time evil spent, O life to us others evil employed, O wretch that always art careless, now adays the stomach and entrails are so severed from the good, and the hearts so joined with the evil: that men forgetting themselves to be men, become more cruel than wild beasts. I labour to give thee life: and thou seekest to procure my death. Thou weepest to see me laugh: and I laugh to see thee weep. I procure that thou do not mount: and thou seekest that I might fall. Finally without the profit of any, we cast ourselves away: and without gain, we do rejoice to end our lives. By the faith of a good man I swear unto thee (Lady Lavinia) that if thy remedy were in my hands, as thy grief is in my heart: I would not be sorry for thy sorrows, neither thou so tormented for the death of thy husband. But alas, though I miserable man have the heart to feel thy anguish: yet I want power to remedy thy sorrows.   

¶ The Emperor proceedeth in his letter, and persuadeth widows to put their wills to the will of god, and exhorteth them to live honestly. Cap. xxxviii.  
SInce thy remedy, and my desire cannot be accomplished, because it is a thing unpossible to receive, and speak with the dead: and not having power, me think that thou and I should refer it to the gods, who can give much better than we can ask. O lady Lavinia, I desire thee earnestly, and as a friend I counsel and admonish thee, and with all my heart I require thee, that thou esteem that for well done, which the gods have done, that thou conform thyself to the will of the gods, and that thou will nought else, but as the gods will. For they only know they err not, wherefore they have assaulted thy husband with so sudden death: and to thee his wife, have lent so long life. The gods being as they are, so mighty, and so sage, what is he that can be judge of their profound judgments. The gods know right well those which serve them, and those which offend them: those that love them, and those which hate them: those that praise them, and those that blaspheme them: those that yield them thanks, and those which are unthankful. And I tell thee further, that oftentimes the gods are served more with them which are buried in the graves: then with those which go weeping through the temples. Wilt thou now enter into account with the gods? thou oughtest to note & consider, that they have left thee children to comfort thyself, they have left thee goods wherewith thou mayst avoid poverty, they have left thee friends by whom thou shalt be favoured, they have left thee parents of whom thou art beloved, they have left thee a good name for to be esteemed, and health wherewith thou mayst live: Finally I say, that small is that which the gods take from us, in respect of that they leave us. After one sort we ought to behave ourselves with men, and after an other we ought to serve the gods. For to men some times it is requisite, to show a countenance for to humble them: but to the gods it is necessary, to lie flat on the ground with thy stomach to honour them. And if the Oracle of Apollo do not deceive us, the gods are sooner with humility (wherewith we worship them) appeased: then with presumptuous sacrifices (which we offer unto them) contented. Since thou art widow (Lady Lavinia) and art a wise and virtuous woman, beesech the gods to preserve thy children, to defend thy renown, and not to sever thy friends from thee, and that thou scatter not thy goods, to preserve thy person in health, and above all, to be in their, favour. Thou canst not win, nor lose somuch in all thy life: as the gods can give, or take from thee in one hour. would to god the widow knew, how little she winneth among men, and how much she loseth among the Gods, when she is not patient in adversity: for impatience oftentimes, provoketh the gods to wrath. We see it in man's body by experience, that there are sundry diseases, which are not cured with words spoken: but with the herbs thereunto applied. And in other diseases the contrary is seen, which are not cured with costly medicines: but with comfortable words.  
The end of this comparison tendeth to this effect, that all the afflicted hearts should know, that sometimes the heart is more comforted with one benefit which they do: then with a hundred words which they speak. And at an other time, the sorrowful heart is better lightened, with one word of his friends mouth: then with all the service of others in the world. O wretch that I am, for as in the one, and in the other I am destitut: So in all I do want. For considering thy greatness, and weighing my little knowledge, I see myself very unable. For that to comfort thee, I want science: and for to help thee I need riches. But I cease not to have great sorrow, if sorrow in payment may be received. That which with my person I can do, neither with paper or ynk I will requite. For the man which with word only comforteth (in effect being able to remedy) declareth himself to have been a feigned friend in times past: and showeth that a man ought not to take him for a faithful friend in time to come. That which the Romans with the widows of Rome have accustomed to do, I will not presently do with thee (Lady Lavinia) that is to weet: that thy husband being dead, all go to visit the widow, all comfort the widow, and all weep with the widow: and within a few days after, if the woeful widow have need of any small favour with the Senate, they withdraw themselves together, as if they had never known her husband, nor seen her. The renown of the roman widows, is very dainty: for of their honesty, or dishonesty, dependeth the good renown of their person, the honour of their parents, the credit of their children, and the memory of the dead. For this therefore, it is healthful counsel, for wise men to speak few words to widows, and to do infinite good works. What availeth it woeful widows, to have their coffers filled with letters and promises, and their ears stuffed with words, and flatteries? If hitherto thou hast taken me for thy neighbour, and parent of thy husband, I beseech thee henceforth that thou take me for a husband in love, for father in counsel, for brother in service, and for advocate in the Senat. And all this so truly shall be accomplished, that I hope thou wilt say: that which in many I have lost, in Marcus Aurelius alone I have found. I know well (as thou dost in like manner) that when the hearts with sorrows are over whelmed, the spirits are troubled, the memory is dulled, the flesh doth tremble, the spirit doth change, and reason is withdrawn. And since that presently sorrow and care, in thy house do remain: let the gods forsake me, if I abandon thee, let them forget me, if I remember thee not. But as Claudine remained thine, wholly till the hour of death: so Marcus Aurelius will evermore be thine, during his life.  
Since I love thee so entirely, and thou trustest me so faithfully, and that thou with sorrows art so replenished, and my heart with care so oppressed: let us admit, that thou Lady Lavinia, hast the authority to command me in thy affairs, and I licence to counsel and advertise thee of things, touching thy honour, and person. For often times the widows have more need of a mean remedy, then of a good counsel: I earnestly desire thee to leave the lamentation of the roman widows, that is to weet: to shut the gates to tear their hairs, to cut their garments, to go bare legged, to paint the visage, to eat solitarily, to weep on the graves, to chid her Chamberlayns, to pour out water with tears, to put Acorns on the graves, and to bite their nails with the teeth: For these things, and such other semblable lightness, behoveth not the gravity of roman Matrons, either to see them or else to know them. Since there is no extremity but thereunto vice is annexed: I let thee weet (lady Lavinia) if thou be ignorant thereof, that the widows which are so extreme, do torment themselves, do trouble their friends, do offend the gods, do forsake theirs, and in the end they profit not the dead: & to the envious people, they give occasion to talk. I would think and me seemeth, that the women which are matrons, and widows, aught to take upon them such garment, and estate, the day that the gods take life from their husbands: as they intend to wear during their life. What availeth it that a widow be one month shut up in her house, & that afterwards within a year she is met in every place of Rome? what availeth it, that for few days she hideth herself from her parents, and friends: and afterwards she is found the first at the theatres? what profiteth it, that widows at the first do morn, and go evil attired: and afterwards they dispute, and complain of the beauty of the roman wives? what forceth it, that widows for a certain time do keep their gates shut: and afterwards their housen are more frequented than others? What skilleth it, that a man see the widows weep much for their husbands, and afterwards they see them laugh more for their pastimes? Finally I say, that it little availeth the woman, to seem to suffer much openly for the death of her husband: if secretly she hath an other husband all ready found? For the virtuous, and honest widow, immediately as she seeth an other man alive: she reneweth her sorrow for her husband that is dead. I will show thee (Lady Lavinia) a thing that befell in Rome, to the end thou think not I talk at pleasure. In the old time, in Rome there was a noble and worthy roman Lady, wife of the noble Marcus Marcellus, whose name was Fulvia. And it happened so, that this woman seeing her husband buried in the field of Mars, for the great grief she had, she scratched her face, she ruffled her hear, she tore her gown, and fell down to the earth in a found, by the reason whereof two Senators kept her in their arms, to th'end she should torment herself no more. To whom Gneus Flavius the Censor said. Let Fulvia go out of your hands, she will this day do all the penance of widows. Speaking the truth, I know not, whether this Roman spoke with the Oracle, or that he were a divine: but I am assured that all he spoke came to pass. For that this Fulvia was the wife of so excellent a roman, as the good Marcus Marcellus was: I would that so unlucky a chance had not happened unto her, which was: that whiles the bones of her husband were a burning, she agreed to be married to an other: and which was more, to one of the Senators that lifted her up by the arms, she gave her hand, as a roman to a roman, in token of a faithful marriage. The case was so abominable, that of all men it was dispraised that were present: and gave occasion that they never credit widows afterwards. I do not speak it (Lady Lavinia) for that I think thou wilt do so. For by the faith of a good man, I swear unto thee, that my heart neither suspecteth it, nor yet the authority of so grave a roman doth demand it: for to thee only the fault should remain, and to me the wonder. Heartily I commend unto thee thy honesty, which to thyself thou oughtest, and the care which behoveth so worthy and noble a widow. For if thou art tormented, with the absence of the dead: thou oughtest to comfort thee, with the reputation of the living. At this present I will say no more to thee, but that thy renown among the present be such, and that they speak of thee so in absence: that to the evil, thou give the bridle to be silent, and to the good, spurs to come and serve thee. For the widow of evil renown, aught to be buried quick. Other things to write to thee I have none. secret matters are dangerous to trust, considering that thy heart is not presently disposed to here news. It is reason thou know that I with thy parents and friends have spoken to the Senate, which have geeven the office that thy husband had in Constantinople, to thy son. And truly thou oughtest no less to rejoice of that, which they have said of thee: then for that they have geeven him. For they say, though thy husband had never been citizen of Rome: yet they ought to have geeven more than this, only for thy honest behaviour. My wife Faustine saluteth thee, and I will say I never saw her weep for any thing in the world so much, as she hath wept for thy mishap. For she felt thy loss, which was very great: and my sorrow, which was not little. I send thee four thousand sexterces in money, supposing that thou hast wherewith to occupy them, as well for thy necessaries, as to discharge thy debts. For the complaints, demands, and processes, which they minister to the roman matrons are greater: then are the goods that their husbands do leave them. The gods which have geeven rest to thy husband O Claudine, give also comfort to thee his wife Lavinia, Marcus of mount Celio, with his own hand.   

¶ That Princes and noble men ought to despise the world, for that there is nothing in the world but plain deceit. Cap. xxxix.  
PLato, Aristotle, Pythagoras, Empedocles, Democrites, Selcucus, Epicurus, Diogenes, Thales, & Methrodorus, had among them so great contention to describe the world, his beginning, and property: that in maintaining every one his opinion, they made greater wars with their pens: then their enemies have done with their lances. Pythagoras said, that that which we call the world is one thing, and that which we call the universal is an other. The philosopher Thales said, that there was no more but one world: and to the contrary, Methrodorus the astronomer affirmed, there were infinite worlds. Diogenes said, that the world was everlasting. Seleucus said, that it was not true: but that it had an end. Aristotle seemed to say that the world was eternal. But Plato said clearly, that the world hath had beginning, and shall also have ending. Epicurus said, that it was round as a ball. Empidocles said, that is was not as a bowl: but as an egg. Chilo the philosopher (in the high mount Olympus) disputed, that the world was as men are: that is to weet, that he had an intellectible and sensible soul. Socrates in his school saith, & in his doctrine wrote that after .37. thousand years, all things should return as they had been before. That is to weet, that he himself should be born a new, & should be nourished, & should read in Athens. And Dennis the tyrant should return to play the tyrant in Siracuse, julius Cesar to rule Rome, Hannibal to conquer Italy: and Scipio to make war against Carthage, Alexander to fight against king Darius, and so forth in all others past. In such and other vain questions, and speculations, the ancient philosophers consumed many years. They in writing many books have troubled their spirits, consumed long time, travailed many countries, and suffered innumerable dangers: and in the end they have set forth few truths, and many lies. For the least part of that they knew not, was much greater: then all that which they ever knew. When I took my pen in my hand to write the vanity of the world: my intention was not, to reprove this material world, the which of the four elements is compounded. That is to weet, of the earth that is cold and dry: of the water that is moist and cold: of the air, that is hot and moist: of fire that is dry and hot: So that taking the world in this sort, there is no reason why we should complain and lament of it, since that without him we cannot live corporally. When the painter of the world came into the world, it is not to be believed that he reproved the water which bore him, when he went upon it: nor the air that ceased to blow in the sea, nor the earth that trembled at his death, nor the light which seized to light, nor the stones which broke in sunder, nor the fish which suffered themselves to be taken, nor the trees which suffered themselves to be dry, nor the monuments that suffered themselves to be opened. For the creature knowledged in his creator omnipotency, and the creator founded in the creature due obedience. Oftentimes and of many parsons we here say, o woeful world, o miserable world, o subtle world, o world unstable and unconstant. And therefore it is reason we know what the world is, whereof the world is, from whence this world is, whereof this world is made, and who is lord of this world: since in it all things are unstable, all things are miserable, all deceitful, and all things are malicious which can not be understanded of this material world. For in the fire, in the air, in the earth, and in the water, in the light, in the planets, in the stones, and in the trees, there are no sorrows, there are no miseries, there are no deceit, nor yet any malice. The world wherein we are born, where we live, & where we die, differeth much from the world, whereof we do complain: for the world against whom we fight, suffereth us not to be in quiet one hour in the day. To declare therefore my entention, this wicked world is no other thing, but the evil life of the worldlings, where the earth is the desire, the fire the covetise, the water the inconstancy, the air the folly, the stones are the pride, the flowers of the trees the thoughts, the deep sea the heart. Finally I say, that the son of this world, is the prosperity: and the moon is the continual change. The prince of this so evil a world is the devil, of whom jesus Christ said. The prince of this world shall now be cast out: and this the redeemer of the world sayeth. For he called the worldlings and their worldly lives the world. For since they be servants of sin, of necessity they must be subjects of the devil. The pride, the avarice, the envy, the blasphemy, the pleasures, the lechery, the negligence, the gluttony, the ire, the malice, the vanity, and the folly.  
This is the world against which we fight all our life, and where the good are princes of vices, and the vices are lords of the vicious.  
Let us compare the travels which we suffer of the elements, with those which we endure of the vices, and we shall see, that little is the peril we have on the sea, and the land, in respect of that which increaseth of our evil life. Is not he in more danger, that falleth through malice into pride: then he which by chance falleth from a high rock? Is not he who with envy is persecuted, in more danger: than he that with a stone is wounded? Are not they in more peril, that live among vicious men: than others that live among bruit and cruel beasts? Do not those which are tormented with the fire of covetousness suffer greater danger, than those which live under the mount Ethna? Finally I say, that they be in greater perils, which with high imaginations are blinded: then the trees which with the importunate winds are shaken. And afterwards this world is our cruel enemy, it is a deceitful friend, it is that which always keepeth us in travel, it is that which taketh from us our rest, it is that that robbeth us of our treasure, it is that which maketh himself to be feared of the good, & that which is greatly beloved of the evil. It is that which of the goods of other is prodigal, and of his own very miserable. He is the inventor of all vices, and the scourge of all virtues. It is he which entertaineth all his in flattery and fair speech. This is he which bringeth men to dissension, that robbeth the renown of those that be dead, and putteth to sack the good name of those that be alive. Finally I say, that this cursed world is he, which to all aught to render account, and of whom none dare ask account. O vanity of vanity, where all walk in vanity, where all think vanity, where all cleave to vanity, where all seemeth vanity: and yet this is little to seem vanity, but that in deed it is vanity. For as false witness should he bear, that would say that in this world there is any thing assured, healthful, and true: as he that would say that in heaven there is any unconstant, variable, or false thing. Let therefore vain princes see, how vain their thoughts be, and let us desire a vain prince to tell us how he hath governed him with the vanities of the world. For if he believe not that which my pen writeth, let him believe that which his parson proveth. The words written in the book of Ecclesiastes are such.  

I David's son that sways the kingly seat  
with hungry thirst, have thrown amid my breast  
A vain desire to prove what pleasures great  
In flying life have stable foot to rest.   

To taste the sweet that might suffice my will  
with rained course to shun the deeper way  
whose streams of his delight, should so distill  
as might content my restless though to stay   

For lo, queen follies imps through vain beelief  
So proudly shape their search of tickle reach  
that though desert avails the wave of grief  
to science top their claimming will doth stretch   

And so to draw some nice delighting end  
Of fancies toil that feasted thus my thought  
I largely weighed my wasted bounds to bend  
to swelling realms as wisdoms dial wrought.   

I rial courts have reached from the soil  
to serve lodge my huge attending train  
Each pleasant house that might be heaped with toy●  
I reared up to wield my wanton rain.   

I caused to plant the long unused wines  
to smooth my taste with treasure of the grape  
I sipped have the sweet in flaming wines  
old rust of care by hid delight to scape.   

Fresh arbours I had closed to the skies  
A shrouded space to use my fickle feet  
rich gardens I had dasing still mine eyes  
A pleasant plot when dainty food was meet.   

High shaking trees by art I strove to set  
to freight desire with fruit of leeking taste  
When broiling flame of summers sun did hett  
the blossomed bows his shooting beams did waste.   

From rocky hills I forced to be brought  
Cold silver springs to bain my fruitful ground  
Large thrown out ponds I laboured to be wrought  
where numbers huge of swimming fish were found.   

Great compassed parks I gloried long to plant  
And wild forests where swarmed herds of dear  
thousands of sheep no cattal could not want  
with new increase to store the wasted year.   

Whole routs I kept of servile wights to serve  
Defauts of princely courts with yrkesom toil  
whose skilful hand from cunning cooled not serve  
their sway was most to deck my dainty soil   

The learned wights of musics curious art  
I trained up, to please me with their play  
whose sugared tunes so sailed to my heart  
As flowing grief, agreed to ebb away.   

The tender maids, whose stalk of growing years  
yet reached not to age his second rain  
whose royal fames, were swallowed in no cares  
But burnt by love as beauty's lot doth gain   

Lo I enjoyed to feed my dulled spirit  
with strained voice of sweet alluring song  
but yet to mount the stage of more delight  
I joyed to see their comely dances long.   

The hills of massy gold that I upheaped  
So hugy were by hoard of long excess,  
That clottered clay, with prouder price was kept  
In sundry realms, when ruthful need did press.   

In some I say, my bodies rolling guide  
did gaze for nought, but subject lay to sight  
My judge of sounds, wished nothing to abide  
but was instilled to kindle more delight.   

The clother of my corpse yet never felt  
that pleased him aught, but ay it touched again  
my sycher of savours, if ought be smelled  
that might content, his would was never vain.   

The greedy sighs of my devoured breast  
Travailed in thought to conquer no delight  
but yielded strait as wire to the wrist  
to office such, as wanton will be height.   

But when the doors of my abused eyen  
were hoist up with looks and looks again  
And that my eager hands, did ay incline  
to touch the sweet, that seasoned still their pain,   

When wanton taste, was fed with each conceit  
That strange devise brought forth from flowing wit  
when restless will was ballast with the weight,  
of princely reach, that did my compass fit,   

I saw by search, the sorry unstable bloom  
the blasted fruit, the flitting still delight  
The fickle joy, the oft abused doom  
the slipper stay, the short contented sight   

Of such as set their heaven of lingering life  
In pleasure's lap, that laughs at their abuse  
whose froward wheel, with frowning turn is rise  
to drown their bliss, that blindly slept with use.   

For lo, the course of my delighting years  
that was embraced in arms of fancies past  
when wisdoms son, through follies clouds appears  
doth blush to here, the count that pleasure cast.   

So now I see the mass of huge delight  
with flattering face doth promise but decay  
whose flitting foot, enticed once to flight  
his restless wings, do seek to sore away.  
Lo thus he slips, reclaimed with endless pain  
Possessed a while, departing soon again.   
This sayeth the sage Solomon, talking of the things of the world: the which as he spoke of the world, so had he proved it in deed in his parson. Crediting, as it is reason to such high doctrine, I cannot tell what my pen can write more in this case, since he saith, that after he had all proved, experimented, possessed, and tasted, he found that all that we procure & have in this world is vanity. O princes, and great lords, I beesech ye, and in the name of jesus christ I exhort you, with great discretion to enter into this deep seas: since this order is so disordered, that it bringeth all disorders, & evil customs. For all those which shall travail by the way, when they shall think to go most sure in the midst of their journey, they shall find themselves to be lost. None ought to agree with the world, for that he might live sure in his house: for day & night, to all worldlings he hath his gate open, making their entry large & sure. But let us beware we enter not, and much more that we load not ourselves with his vices, and be delighted with his pleasures. For since we do wax worse, and that we are entered therein, though we do repent, by no way we find the sure coming out, but the first we must well pay for our lodging. I marvel not though the worldlings at every moment be deceived, sins superfyciously they behold the world with their eyes, & love it profoundly with their hearts. But if they desired as profoundly to consider it, as they do vainly follow it, they should see very plain that the world did not flatter them with prosperity, but threaten them with adversity. So that under the greatest point of the die, which is the vi. is hid the lest which is the ace, I would counsel princes, & great lords, that they would not believe the world nor his flatteries, and much less believe themselves nor their vain imaginations. The which for the most part do think that after they have travailed and heaped up great treasure, they shall enjoy but their own travail, without the trouble of any man, or that any man do go again them. O how vain is such thought, and how oft doth it change contrary. The world is of such an evil condition, that if he let us rest our first sleep, as well us, as that which we have gotten, immediately in the morning, yea oftentimes an hour from thence, he waketh us with a new care, & now he hath prepared for us some mean, to occupy ourselves about some other trouble.   

¶ The autour followeth his intention, and speaketh vehemently against the dysceyts of the world. Cap. xl.  
THemperor trajan said one day to his master (which was plutarch the great philosopher) tell me master, why there are commonly more evil than good? and why without comparison there are more which follow vices, than those which embrace virtue? The great plutarch answered. As our natural inclination is more geeven to lasciviousness and negligence then to chastity and abstinence: so the men which do enforce themselves to follow virtue are few, and those which give slack the reins to vices are many. And know thou, if thou know'st it not (most noble Prince) that all this evil proceedeth, that men do follow men, and that they suffer not reason to follow reason. Feeble, and miserable is our nature, but in the end we can not den●y, that for all our travails we may find remedy in it, which seemeth to be true. For so much as if the sun doth annoy us, we do retire to the shadow. If we are grieved going on foot, we do remedy it going on horseback. If the sea be dangerous, we sail with ships, If the cold do vex us, we approach near the fire. If thirst doth trouble us, we do quench it with drink, If rain doth wet us, we go into houses. If the plague be in one place, we fly into another. If we have enemies, we comfort ourselves with our friends. Finally I say, that there is no sorrow, nor travail, but that a man hath found some rest & remedy. This presupposed to be true (as it is troth in deed) now I ask all the worldlings, if they have found any remedy against the troubles & disceits of this world? If I be not deceived, & if I understand any thing of this world, the remedy which the world giveth for the troubles, certainly are greater travails, than the travails themselves: so that they are salves that do not heal our wounds, but rather burn our flesh. When the diseases are not very old rooted, nor dangerous, it profiteth more oftentimes to abide a gentle fever: then to take a sharp purgation. I mean, that the world is such a deceiver, and so double, that he doth contrary to that he punisheth. That is to weet, that if he do persuade us to revenge an injury: it is to the end that in revenging that one, we should receive a thousand inconveniences. And where as we think it taketh from us, it increaseth infinite. So that this cursed guide, making us to believe it leadeth us upon the dry land among our friends: causeth us to fall into the imbushment of our enemies. Princes and great lords, in the thoughts they have, and in the words that they speak, are greatly esteemed: and afterwards in the works which they do, and in the affairs they travail, are as little regarded. The contrary of all this doth the wicked world, who with all those he companieth, in his promises he is very gentle: & afterwards in his deeds, he is very proud. For speaking the troth, it costeth us dear: and we others do sell it good cheap. I say much, in saying that we sell it good cheap: but in manner I should say better, that we give it willingly. For few are those in number which carry away wages of the world: and infinite are those, which do serve it only for a vain hope. O princes, and great lords, I counsel and require you, that you do not trust the world, neither in word, deed, nor promise, though he swear and swear again, that he will keep all he hath promised with you. Suppose that the world doth honour you much, flatter you much, visit you oft, offer you great treasures, and give you much: yet it is not because he will give it ye by little & little, but that afterwards he might take it all from ye again in one day. For it is the old custom of the world, that those which above all men he hath set before: now at a turn, they are furthest behind. What may we have in the world and in his flatteries, since we do know, that one day we shall see ourselves deprived thereof? and that which is more, he useth such craft and subtlety with the one and the other, that in old men whom reason would should not be vicious, he (the more to torment their parsons) hath kindled a greater fire in their hearts, so that this malicious world putteth into old riches, a new covetousness: and in the aged, engendereth cruel avarice, and that in that time, when it is out of tyme. We ought greatly to consider, how by the world we are deceived: but much more we ought to heed, that we be not by it destroyed. For where as we think to be in open liberty: he keepeth us secret in prison. We think we are whole, and he giveth us sickness. We think we have all things: yet we have nothing. We think that for many years long shallbe our life, when that at every corner we are assaulted of death. We think that it counteth us for men that be wise, when he keepeth us bond like unto fools. We think that it increaseth our good, when that in deed it burdeneth our consciens. Finally I say, that by the way where we think to continue our renown, and life: we lose without recovery, both life and fame. O filthy world, that when thou dost receive us, thou dost cast us of: when thou dost assemble us, thou dost separate us: when thou seemest to rejoice us, thou makest us sad: when thou pleasest us: how thou displeasest us: when thou exaltest us, how thou humblest us: & when thou dost chastise us, how thou reioicest. Finally I say, that thou hast thy drynks so empoisoned, that we are without thee, with thee, and having the thief within the house, we go out of the doors to seek him. Though men be divers in gestures: yet much more are they variable in their appetites. And sith the world hath experience of so many years, it hath appetites prepared for all kind of people. For the presumptuous he procureth honours, to the avaricious he procureth riches, and to those which are gluttons, he presenteth divers meats. The fleshly he blindeth with women, and the negligent he letteth rest: and the end why he doth all these things, is that after he hath fed them as fish, he casteth upon them the nets of all vices. Note princes, and great lords, note noble men, though a prince do see himself lord of all the world, he ought to think that of no value is the signory, unless he himself be virtuous. For little it profiteth that he be lord of the vicious: which is himself the servant of all vices. Many say that the world doth beeguile them: and other say that they have no power against the world. To whom we may answer. That if at the first temptations we would have resisted the world: it is unpossible that so oftentimes it durst assault us. For of our small resistance, cometh his so great audacity. I can not tell if I shall dissemble, I shall hold my peace, or whither I shall say that I would say, since it grieveth my heart so much, only to think of it. For I feel my eyes readier to lament it, than my fingers able to write it. It is so, that every man suffereth himself to be governed so of the world: as if god were not in heaven, & he had not promised to be a good christian here in earth. For all that he will, we will, that which he followeth, we follow, and that which he chooseth we choose. And that which is greatest sorrow of all, if we do refrain ourselves from adversity, it is not for that of our own nature we would cease from it: but because the world will not command us to do it. Little is that which I have spoken, in respect of that I will speak: which is, that the world hath made us now so ready to his law, that from one hour to another, it changeth the whole state of this life. So that to day he maketh us hate that, which yesterday we loved, he maketh us complain of that, which we commended: he maketh us to be offended now with that, which before we did desire: he maketh us to have mortal enemies of those, which before were our special friends. Finally I say, that the world maketh us to love that in our life, which afterwards we beewaile at the hour of death. If the world did give unto his minyons, any perfect and accomplished thing: it were somewhat that for a time a man should remain in the service of his house: But since that in the world all things are granted not during life, but as lending, which ought to be rendered the day following: I know not what man is so very a fool, that in the world doth hope for any perpetual thing? For all that he giveth, he giveth with such condition, that they shall render it unto him when he shall demand it: and not at the discretion of him that doth possess it. Peradventure the world can give us perpetual life? I say certainly no. For in the sweetest time of all our life, then suddenly we are assaulted of cruel death. Peradventure the world can give us temporal goods in abundance? I say certainly no. For no man at any time had so much riches: but that which he wanted was more, then that he possessed.  
Peradventure the world can give us perpetual joy? I say certainly no.  
For exempting those days which we have to lament, and also the hours which we have to sigh: there remaineth not for us one moment to laugh. Peradventure he can give us perpetual health? I say certainly no. For to men of long life, without comparison the diseases are more which they suffer: then the years are which they live. Peradventure the world can give us perpetual rest? I say certainly no. For if the days be few, wherein we see the elements without clouds: fewer are the hours, which we feal our hearts without cares. Therefore since that in this miserable world there is no health perpetual, nor life perpetual, nor riches perpetual, nor joy perpetual, I would know what it is that the worldlings would of the world, since they know that it hath no good thing to give them, but only by lending, or by usury? If it be usury, there is no gain of money: but rather return, with restitution of vices. O children of vanity, O masters of lightness, since it is so, that ye now determine to follow and serve the world: look not of the world to have any thing, but things of the world. In it is nothing but pride, envy, lechery, hate, ire, blasphemy, avarice, and folly. And if ye ask if he have in his governance any virtuous thing, he will answer you that he doth never sell such merchandise in his shop. Let no man think that the world can give us that, which it hath not for itself. And if we will change any thing with it, and it with us: he is so subtle to sell, & so curious to buy, that that which he taketh shallbe of great measure, and that which he selleth us, shall want much weight.   

¶ Of a letter the Emperor Marcus Aurelius wrote to his friend Torquatus to comfort him in his banishment, which is notable for all men to learn the vanities of this world. Cap. xli.  
Marcus' Emperor of Rome companion in the empire, with his brother Annius Verus, to thee Torquatus of the city of Gayetta wisheth health to thy parson, & strength against thy evil fortune. I being in the Temple of the vestal virgins, about three months hence, I received a letter of thine: the which was in such sort, that neither mine eyes for that time could make an end to read it, nor since I have had the heart to answer it. For in the inconveniences of our friends, if we have no faculty nor might for to remedy it, at the least we are bound to beewaile it. Thy sorrow maketh me so heavy, thy pain doth trouble me so much, I am so careful of thy anguish, so tormented with thy grief, that if the gods had geeven power to woeful men to departed their sorrows, as they have geeven to rich men to departed their goods: by the faith I own to god, I swear, that as I am the greatest of thy friends, I would be he which should take the most part of thy griefs. I know right well, and as well as he that hath proved it, that as much difference as there is beetween the bark & the tree, the marry and the bone, the corn & the straw, the gold and the dross, the truth and the dreams: so much is there to here the travails of another, and to taste his own. notwithstanding comfort thyself my friend Torquatus: for where the friends be true, the goods and the evils are common beetwyxt them. Oftentimes with myself I have marveled, to what end, or intention, the immortal Gods have geeven travail, and torments to men, since it is in their power to make us to live without them. I see no other thing, why the mishaps ought patiently to be suffered: but because in those, we know who are our faithful friends. In battle the valiant man is known, in tempestuous weather the Pilot is known, by the touch stone gold is tried, and in adversity the friend is known.  
For my friend doth not enough to make me merry, unless also he doth take part of my sorrow. I have heard say here, and now by thy letter I have seen, how they have banished thee from Rome, and confyscated thy goods, and that for pure sorrow thou art sick in thy bed: whereof I marvel not that thou art sick, but to be as thou art alive. For saying to thee the truth, where the heart is sore wounded, in short space it hath accustomed to yield up unto the body. I see well that thou complainest, and thou hast reason to complain, to see thyself banished from Rome, and thy goods confiscate, to see thyself out of thy country, without any parentage: yet therefore thy sorrow ought not to be so extreme, that thou shouldst put thy life in hazard. For he alone ought to have licence, and also is bound to hate life, which doth not remember that he hath served the Gods, nor hath done any profit to men. If the affairs of the Empire did not occupy me, and the imperial majesty did not withdraw me: I would immediately have to come to comfort thy person, where thou shooldst have seen by experience, with what grief I feel thy trouble. And therefore if thou takest me for thy friend, thou oughtest to believe of me that, which in this case I would of thee: which is, that as thou hast been the most entire friend which I had in Rome: so is this the thing that most I have felt in this life. Tell me my friend Torquatus, what is it thou sufferest there, that I do not lament here? It may be that sometime thou laughest, but I always weep: sometimes thou comfortest thyself, but I am always sad. It may be that thou lightnest thy pain: but I am in sighing. It may be that sometimes thou castest from thee sorrow: but for me I cannot receive consolation. It may be that thou hopest remedy of longlyfe: but for me I find no remedy more healthful, then present death. Finally I say, that here I feel all that thou feelest there, and furthermore I suffer all that, which as a friend I ought to suffer here: so that both our pains are made one most cruel sorrow, wherewith my woeful life is tormented. I would greatly desire to come and see thee, and to help to dysburthen thee of this charge. And since it is unpossible for me, I send thee this letter, wherein perchance thou shalt find some comfortable words. For thou know'st, that if the true friends cannot do that which they ought: yet they do accomplish it, in doing that they can. If my memory deceive me not, it is well two and thirty years since we two have known togethers in Rome, during the which, fortune hath made here beetween us divers alterations, in the which time I never saw thee one day contented. For if thou were sad, nothing did make thee merry, but were as a man without taste: and if thou were joyful, thou esteemedst it little, as a man being troubled. Therefore if the truth be so (as in deed it is) that in travails thou were laden with sorrows, and in prosperities thou were evil content, so that of nothing in the world thou takest any taste: why is it (my friend Torquatus) that now again thou art in dyspaire, as if thou camest new into this world? Thou didst rejoice thyself xxxii years, with the triumphs and prosperity of Rome: and thou complainest only of three months, that fortune hath been contrary unto thee. O Torquatus, Torquatus, dost thou know that the wise men (in whom wisdom reigneth) have more fear of two unhappy days in this life: then of two hundredth of prosperous fortune? O how many have I seen go out of their prosperyties, with the charges of another man, and their own proper vices? so that the vain glory and the failing prosperity endured few days: but the grief of that they have lost, and the enmyties which they have recovered, endure many years. The contrary of all this cometh to infortunate men, which escape out of their tribulations spoiled of vices, environed with virtues: persecutors of evil, zelers' of good: friends of all, and enemies of none: contented with theirs, and not desiring others: finally they are scaped wisely from the snare, and have gathered the rose, not hurting themselves with the pricks. What wilt thou that I say more unto thee, but that the most fortunate are vanquished in peace: and the unfortunate are conquerors in war? One of the sentences which most have contented me, of those which the ancients have spoken, is this, of the divine Plato. That those which are in prosperity, have no less need of good counsel: then the unhappy have of remedy. For no less do they travail, which go always in the plain way: then those which mount on the sharp craggy mountain. According to that I have gathered of thy letter, me seemeth that when we hope most rest, greatest travail hath succeeded to thee. And hereof I do not marvel, nor thou oughtest not to be offended. For as experience teacheth us, when the trees have the blossoms, than they are most subject to the frost. And when glasses are drawn out of the furnace, they break. The captains having won the victory, do die. When they will put the key in the door, the house doth fall. The pirates perish, within the kenning of land. By that I have spoken I mean, that when we think to have made peace with fortune, than she hath a new demand ready forged. All new changes of fortune, causeth alway new pain to the parson: but oftentimes it is cause of more great fortress. For the tree beareth not so much fruit, where it first grew, as there where it is again planted: and the savours are more odiferous, when they are most chafed. I mean, that men of high thoughts, the more they are wrapped in the frownings of fortune, the more valiant and stout they show themselves. The man utterly is foolish, or hath great want of understanding, who hopeth at any time to have perfect rest, immagining that the world will give no assault upon him: but that the time shall come, wherein he shallbe without care and fear. This miserable life is of such condition, that daily our years do diminish, and our troubles increase. O Torquatus, by the immortal gods I do desire thee, and in the faith of a friend I do require thee, thou being born in the world, nourishing thyself in the world, living in the world, being conversant in the world, being a child of the world, and following the world, what didst thou hope of the world, but things of the world? Peradventure thou alone wilt eat the flesh without bones, give battle without peril, travail without pain, and sail by the sea without danger. I mean, that it is unpossible for mortal men to live in the world, unless they will become subject to the sorrows of the world. The world hath always been the world, and now the world shallbe after us, and as a world shall handle the worldlings,  
The wise men, and those which of their estates are careful, are not contented to see, nor superfycially to know the things: but rather way them profoundly. I say this, because if thou knewst thy debylyty, and knewst fortune, and her change, if thou knewst the men, and their malices, if thou knewst the world, and his flatteries: thou shooldst win no little honour, where as otherwise thou mayst chance to get infamy. We are now come to so great folly, that we will not serve the Gods, which have created us: nor abstain from the world, which persecuteth us. And the best is, that he not willing us (but rather rejecting us) we say that of our own wills we will love & serve him: & yet knowing that those which longest have served the world, do go out of his house most bitterly lamenting. Oftentimes I stay to think, that according to the multitude of men which follow the world, being always evil handled of the world) if the world did pray them, as he doth annoy them, if he did comfort them, as he doth torment them, if he kept them, as he banysheth them, if he exalted them, as he abuseth them, if he received them, as he expelleth them, if he did continue them, as he consumeth them: I think that the Gods should not be honoured in heaven, nor the Temples worshipped in the earth. O Torquatus my friend that which now I will say of thee, thou mayst say of me. That is to weet, how much we put our confidence in fortune, how lewdly we pass our days, and how much we are blinded in the world: yet for all that we credit his word as much, as though he had never mocked any.   

¶ Marcus Aurelius goeth on with his letter and by strong and high reasons persuadeth all that live in the world, not to trust the world, nor any thing therein. Cap. xlij.  
TEll me I pray thee Torquatus, what wilt thou hear more? What wilt thou see more? and what wilt thou know more, to know the world? seeing how until this present thou hast been handled of the world? thou demandest rest, and he hath geeven thee trouble. Thou demandest honour, and he hath geeven thee infamy. Thou demandest riches, & he hath geeven thee poverty. Thou demandest joy, & he hath geeven thee sorrow. Thou demandest to be his, & he hath geeven thee his hand. Thou demandest life, & he hath geeven thee death. Therefore if it be true, that the world hath handled thee in this wise, why dost thou weep to return again to his wicked house? O filthy world, how far art thou from just: & how far ought they to be from thee, which desire to be just. For naturally thou art a friend of novelties, & enemy of virtues. One of the lessons which the world readeth to his children is this: that to be true worldlings, they should not be very true. The which experience plainly showeth us, for the man which meddleth much with the world, leaveth always suspicion of him that he is not true. The world is an ambassador of the evil, a scourge of the good, chiefest of vices, a tyrant of the virtuous, a breaker of peace, a friend of war, a sweet water of vices, the gall of the virtuous, a defender of lies, an inventor of novelties, a travailer of the ignorant, a hammer for the malicious, a table of gluttons, and a furnace of concupisbence: finally, it is the peril of Charibde, where the hearts do perish: and the danger of Scylla, where the thoughts do waste. Presuppose that these be the conditions of the world. The troth is, that if there be any worldling who complaineth to be evil content with the world shall he therefore change his style? Truly no, and the reason is, that if perchance one worldling should go out of the house of the world, there are ten thousand vanities at his gate. I know not what wise man will live in the world with such conditions, since the vices wherewith we do rejoice ourselves are very few, in respect of the torments which we suffer. I say not that we do hear it by hear say, and read them in books: but we see with our own eyes, the one to consume and waste the goods, others by misfortune to fall, and lose their credit, others to fall and lose their honour, and others to lose their life, and all these miseries seen, yet nevertheless every man thinketh to be free by privilege, where there is none privileged: O my friend Torquatus, of one thing I assure thee, which is, that the men which are borne of women are so evil a generation, and so cruel is the world where in we live, and fortune so empoisoned with whom we frequent: that we cannot escape without being spurned with his feet, bitten with his teeth, torn with his nails, or empoisoned with his venom. Peradventure thou mayst say unto me that thou hast seen some in Rome, which have lived long time, fortune never being against him? To this I answer thee, that thou oughtest rather to have pity upon him, than envy: for it is not for his profit, but for his great hindrance. For the world is so malicious, that when it seemeth to be most our friend, than it worketh us most displeasure. The healthful men die rather of a short disease in few days: then the dry and feeble men do, with a disease of many years. By this comparison I mean, that since man cannot escape, nor live without travail: it is much better, that by little and little he tasteth them, than they enter all at one time into his house. O how much aught the man to be hated of the immortal gods, who knoweth not what travail meaneth in this world? For he only ought to fear fortune, who knoweth not fortunes force. Since the gods would permit, and thy mishap hath been such, that thou hast found more danger, where thou thoughtst most surety as a man evil fortuned: it is reason that we apply unto thee some new ware, to the end thou lose not thy good renown, since thou hast lost thy evil goods,  
Tell me I pray thee (Torquatus) why dost thou complain as a man sick? why criest thou as a fool? why syghest thou as a man in despair? and why dost thou weep as a child? Thou art come out of the way.  
And thou complainest to have lost thy way. Thou sailest by the broiling seas: & thou wonderest that the waves do assault thee. Thou hast ascended the steep, and craggy mountains: and thou complainest that thou art weary. Thou walkest by the thorns: and wilt not that thy gown be torn.  
Didst thou think in the top of the high mountain to live most sure? By that I have spoken, I will ask what diligent service thou hast done to the world, that thou would the gods of heaven should recompense thee? Wooldest thou of fortune a safe conduct, she being (as she is) enemy of many, nature being not able to give it, the which is mother of all? O my friend Torquatus, that which the pitiful nature cannot promise thee, didst thou think that fortune (which is the just stepmother) should give? It is unpossible that the Sea should always promise us surety, and the heaven clearness, the summer dews, and the winter frosts. Mark well, mark my friend Torquatus, that all natural things are subject to change every year: but all the worldlings ought to endure to eclipse every moment.  
Since the natural goods cannot always be in one man's custody, being necessary, it is just that the goods of fortune perish, since they are superfluous. Unjust should the Gods be, if that which is to the damage of so many, they had made perpetual: and that which is to the profit of all, they had made mortal. I will no more reduce to thy memory, the prosperity which thou hast had in times past: before that we treat how fortune handleth thee at this present. The deceitful fortune, when at thy gate she sold her merchandise, knowing that she sold unto thee, and thou being ignorant of that thou boughtest: she gave thee fruitful ground, and afterward made it unto thee painful. She hath geeven thee sour for sweet: and the sweet she hath returned to the sour. She hath geeven thee the evil for the good: and where that thou hast sold her good: she returned unto thee evil. Finally she hath beeguyled thee in the just prise: thou not supposing that thou hadst received any damage. We can do no less in this case but to have compassion upon thee: yet though they condemn malicious fortune for selling, they will note thee simple in buying. For in the shop of fortune, all merchandise are suspycious. O unhappy that we are, I say those which meddle with the world: for in his market they see nought but lies, and we do not trust but in the overthrows of our renown: which are not paid, but with the cost of our life. And the factors of that fair, give us nothing by weight, or measure: for they are a sort of vacabounds, and the worst of all is, knowing that they ought to lose with fortune, all seek to buy at her shop. give thyself to the world, love the world much, serve the world well, follow the world well, and feel the world well: for in the end of the journey, the world requireth thee to be like unto his inconstancy. I would enter into count, not with the world, which in the end is the world: but with the worldlings, which are in love with the world. For in the end, either it is good or evil. If the world be good for them, whereof do they complain? If he be evil, why do they follow him? They can not (though they would) deny one of the two errors wherein the worldlings fall: that is to weet, that they serve an evil master, or that they mumur of a good lord. Tell me my friend Torquatus what didst thou hope, since thou madest so long time a countenance to the world? two & thirty years thou hast served the world, and hast been in his favour: wherefore it were now high time that between thee and him were some discord. For between the grandfathers and the nephews, between the father and the children, beetweens the uncles and the nephews, daily we see great strifes: and didst thou think, that beetween thee and fortune, perpetual peace should be? She gave not to Belus king of the Assyrians but ix years of prosperity. To the Queen Semiramis two only. To Label king of the Lacedæmonians. five. To the king of Chaldeans. four. To the great Alexander. four. To the great Amilcar king of Carthage two. To our julius Cesar one, and to infinite others she gave not one. If the world were patient he should be no world, if the world were constant, he should be no world, if the world were sober, he should be no world, if the world were true, he should be no world, if the world were corrigible, he should be no world: finally I say, that for nought else the world is world, but because there is nothing in him worthy to be beloved: and many things in it that deserveth to be reproved. If thou were wise, and knewst any thing of the world, in all the discourse of those xxxii years, thou hadst not eaten without care, nor hadst gone without guiles, and hadst not spoken without suspicion, nor slept without assault, nor trusted any friend. For the war men do think always, wherein their enemies may beeguile them, wherein they themselves may fail, and wherein fortune may let them. I know not if it be that the world of himself be happy, or that the worldlings are fools. For if one stranger, one neighbour, or our proper brother doth envy us, we will never (though he do require us) pardon him, and we cease not to follow the world, though we know he presecuteth us. So that we draw our sweords against flies: and will kill the elephants with needles. There is no greater ill in the world, then to think all things in the world are in extremyty. For if we be abased, we sigh always to mount: and if we be high, we weep always for fear of falling. Such overthrows hath the world, and his snares are so secret: that we are no sooner shipped, but we see both our hands and feet entangled in vices: by the which our liberty is brought into such extreme and cruel captivity, that we beewayle our mishaps with roaring voice as brute beasts: but as men we dare not once utter them. I know not whereof this cometh, for some I see which willingly fall, and other I see which would recover themselves. I see divers that would be remedied, and I see all do complain: but in the end I see no man that doth amend. These things I have written unto thee, for no other thing, but because from hence forth thou shouldst live more circumspectly: for as thou know'st, I say nothing, whereof I have not had long experience. The colt which thou hast sent me is proved very good, especially for that he leapeth very well, and for the carrier he is exceeding ready, and hath a comely grace. I send thee two thousand sexterces, wherewith thou mayst relieve thy necessities. Finding opportunity, as touching thy banishment, I will speak to the senate in thy beehalf. I say no more to thee, but that the consolation of the gods, and the love of the gods be with thee Torquatus. The malice of the evil, & the ire of the furies, be absent from me Marcus, My wife Faustine saluteth thee. And in her beehalf, and mine, recommend us to thy fair daughter in law Solophonia, and thy daughter Amilda. Mark of mount Celio, writeth to thee Torquate, with his own hand.   

¶ princes and noble men ought not to bear with jugglers, jesters, parasites, and common players, nor with any such kind of rascals, and loiterers. And of the laws which the romans made in this beehalf. Cap. xliij.  
LIcurgus, Promotheus, Solon, and Numa Pompilius, famous inventors, and ordeyners of laws, showed the subtlety of their wits, and the zeal which they had to their people, in ordaining many laws which they taught: not only what they ought to do: but that which they ought to fly. For the good and expert physicians do deserve more praise to preserve us before we are sick: then to heal us after we are diseased plutarch in his apothegms never ceaseth to exalt the Lacedæmonians, saying: that when they did observe their laws, they were the most esteemed of all the Greeks: and after that they broke them, they were the most vilest subjects, which ever the Romans had. The felicity or infelicity of realms, doth not consist to have good or evil laws: but to have good or evil princes. For little profiteth us the law to be just, if the king be wicked., Sextus Cheronensis in the life of Nerua saith, when the romans and the Greeks had wars togethers, & that the ambassadors of these two nations were at controversy, which of them should have the Rhodiens to be their friends: the Greek ambassador said to the roman. Ye ought not to make yourselves equal, O romans, with the Greeks, sins the troth is, that ye came from Rome to Greece to seek laws. The romain ambassador answered him, I grant thee, that from Rome we sent to seek laws in Greece: but thou wilt not denay, that from Greece you have brought the vices to Rome. I say unto thee the troth, that without comparison, greater damage have the vices done unto us: then your laws hath profited us. plutarch in an epistle he wrote to Trajan, said these words. Thou writest unto me, most noble prince, that thou art occupied in ordaining new laws: but in my opinion it had been much better, that thou hadst kept, & caused to be kept the old. For little profiteth it to have the books full of good laws, and that the common wealth be full of evil customs. I have seen very few Princes, but to make laws they had ability sufficient and to keep them, they have felt in themselves great debylity and weakness. Hereof we have example. For Nero was he which made the best laws in Rome: and that afterwards of life was most corrupt. For the gods oftentimes permit, that by the hands of some evil men, the others should be constrained to be good. plutarch sayeth further. If thou wilt (noble Prince) trust thine own understanding, in my poor counsel, in few words I would recite unto thee all the ancient laws. I will send thee very brief & sweet laws, not to th'end thou shouldst publish them in Rome: but to the end thou keep them in thy house. For since thou hast made laws for all. I will make laws for thee. The first law is, that thou behave thyself in such sort, that thou be not noted of any notable vice: For if the prince be virtuous in his palace, none dare be dissolute in his house.  
The second law is, that equally thou keep justice, as well to him which liveth far of, as to him which is near about thee: for it is much better that thou depart of thy goods to thy servants, then that thou shooldst give that justice, which appertaineth to others. The third law is, that thou delight in word and deed to be true, and that they take thee not in this default to speak too much. For princes which in their words are uncertain, and in their promises doubtful, shall be hated of their friends, and mocked of their enemies.  
The fourth law is, that thou be very gentle of condition, and not forgetful of services done. For unthankful princes are hated of god, & despised of men.  
The fift law is, that as a pestilence thou chase from thee flatterers. For such with their evil life, do disturb a whole common wealth: and with their flatteries, do darken thy renown. If thou (most noble prince) wilt observe these .v. laws, thou shalt need to make no more laws: For there is no need of other law in the common wealth, but to see that the prince be of good life. This wrote plutarch to trajan, and every virtuous man ought to have them written in his heart. I was willing to touch this history only to show the profit of this last law, where it saith, that princes admit into their conversation no flatterers, of whom it is reason we talk of now: For so much as there are divers men, with whom they lose their time, and spend their goods. When Rome was well ordered, two officers were greatly esteemed to the Romans. The one was the masters of fence, which were as men that fought and turned, and many times in that fight they were slain. And the cause to invent this play, was to the end young men (not expert in war) should see the swords drawn, sharp spears, shooting of crossebows, to give blows with their sword, to shed blood, to give cruel wounds, and to slay men: For in this sort they lost fear, and in going to the war they recovered courage. The man which hath once past a fourd in the water though it be in the night, dare pass it again. But he which hath never passed it over though it be in the day, dare not adventure it. I mean, that the Romans were very sage, to show unto their children the dangers, before they did put them therein. For this is the difference between the fearful heart, and the courageous stomach, in that the one flieth from a distaff, and the other is not afraid of a sword.  
The second office which was esteemed in Rome was, that of the jugglers, jesters, comediants, and of such others, which invented plays, and pastimes: and the romans devised these sports, to rejoice the people: and in especially men of war, whom they feasted at their going forth, and much more at their coming home. For the Romans thinking that they should be with such glory received, went with determination either to win the victory, or to die in battle. The ancient and true Romans had such care for the common wealth of their people, that they consented that jesters should jest, jugglers should juggle, and the players of interludes should play: But this was not through abundance of vanity, nor for want of gravity, but to take from the Plebeians occasion of idleness, and to keep them occupied in other particular plays: they would that all the pleasures should be taken togethers. Not without cause I say, that the pleasures were taken in comen, that is to weet, that no roman could play any plays particularly, make any banquets, represent comedies, nor make any feasts beeside those, which they made to rejoice the whole people, so that in Rome they travailed severally, and rejoiced togethers. I would to god that such and so excellent a romain custom were observed in our christian common wealth.  
But I am very sorry that indifferently rich, and poor, great and small, do play comedies, roune the bulls, make just ordain banquets, wear devices, feast the ladies spend in banquets and invent feasts. The which things altogether do redound to the damage of the common wealth, to the waist of the goods, and to the corruption of the manners: for the particular pastimes do increase new vices to breed in mè. These players did serve in rome to make pastime at the great feasts of their Gods: For since romans were great worshippers of their gods, and so careful of their temples, they sought to feast them all the ways they could invent. Truly this was done by the divine sufferance, for their gods being laughing stocks (as in deed they were) the living god would they should be served, honoured, and feasted by gestures, and mocks. Blondus in the third book de Roma triumphant mentioneth the which I have have spoken, and saith. That the romans were no less curious to give laws to the iudglers, and jesters, which went mocking up and down Rome: then to the captains which were fight in the war. For though they did permit jesters, players and jugglers, to exercise their offices: yet they did command them that their lives might be upright and just. Amongst others, such were the laws, which the romans ordained for these jesters, jugglers, players, and tumblers.  
The first law was, they commanded that they should all be known, and examined, to see if they were honest men, wise, and sage. For the more their offices were vain, so much the more they provided, that they were geeven to wise men. The second law commanded to examine them, to see if they were able, and comely to exercise their offices: and in deed in this case, as well as in the other, they had reason, as very a fool is he which for harkneth to a fool not pleasant, as the fool himself.  
The third law was that they did not permit any Roman juggler to exercise such feats, whiles he had some other craft. So that if they occupied the holy days to play and show pastime in the streets, the other days they should work at home at their houses. The fourth law was, that no juggler nor vice should be so hardy in his ostentations to speak any malices: and in deed it was a law very necessary. For often times they are few which do rejoice at their mockryes: and many which complain of their malices.  
The fift law was that no juggler or jester, should be so bold to make any pastimes in any particular houses, but in open places. For otherwise, those which spoke them became hardy, and those which heard them were vicious.  
The romans not contented to have made these laws, ordained that the jugglers for no pastimes showed, or any other thing spoken should be so bold as to receive any money. And to avoid their complaints, and to satisfy their pains, they allowed every one of them a thousand sexterces yearly out of the common treasure. We ought greatly to praise the providence of the romans, which have prescribed a kind of life for the jesters to live: even as they did to other men of rome, and to the captains of war. And in this place no less than in an other grave thing, they showed their wisdom. For a governor of a common wealth travaileth more to correct fools, than to govern the sage.   

¶ How some jesters were punished by the ancients, and of the jesters and loiterers of our tyme. Cap. xliiii.  
IVlius Capitolinus in the book of the manners of the ancients saith, that in times past, the jesters, and jugglers were greatly esteemed. And we will not deny but that they had reason, sins with them they honoured the gods they took their pleasures, the rejoiced their feasts, they were very quick men, nor importunate, nor covetous. The jester hath no grace, unless immediately a man putteth his hand to the purse. We find sun fragments of an oration which Cicero made in the senate, greatly reproving the Senators, and all the people, because they so willingly gave ear to this jester, who stirred up sedition among the commons, his name was Roscio, who was so greatly esteemed in rome that the romans did more willingly hear that which he said in his jests, than that which Cicero spoke in good earnest: This jester Roscio and Cicero strived which of them both were of greater wit, Roscio for presenting a thing with divers jests, or Cicero pronouncing waity matters in earnest. When I read in julius Capitolinus that which I have spoken, I will not cease to confess mine innocency, for that I could not then keep myself from laughing to see that Roscio, being Prince of folly: did presume to dispute with Cicero, which was father of eloquence. Sith all these things are unstable in one, so from one day to another we see them change. The romans did greatly esteem the policy of the common wealth, the discipline of war, the nurture of children, the exercise of the young, and the honesty of the players, and jugglers: the which in time came to be dissolute, that very oft they were occasion of great slander among the people. The which by the romans seen, and considered, and that the jesters which were wont to show them pleasures, were cause of descension (and where all they commanded them to be resident in their offices, they were vacabonds, and that using them as sages, they lived as loiterers and fools, not contented with that that they gave them of the common treasure, but they went begging of every man) the Senate of rome determined among themselves to banish all the jugglers, and jesters, out of the common wealth. On this execution of these loiterers, sprang dives dyssentions among the people. For the Princes which were good, cast them out: and those which were evil, called them in. So that one of the tokens which were in Rome to know a virtuous, or vicious prince was to see if he maintained jesters, jugglers, or vacabonds, among the people. Plutarch in his Apothegms sayeth, that the Lacedæmonians did never permit any juggler or jester to be in the common wealth. And when one did demand a Lacedaemonian, by an ambassador of Rhodes, what was the occasion to make such a law, since the the jesters, & players, showed pleasure to the people, and the people lost nought but laughed at their folly: the Lacedaemonian answered. Lycurgus saw, hard, felt, or red some great damage the jesters, jugglers or players, might do in the common wealth, since against them he made this so strait a law. But that which I know is that we Greeks are better, weeping with our sages: then are the romans laughing at their fools. Dio in the life of trajan declareth, that there came a juggler to Rome from Africa, whose conveyance was so clean, that it was a wonderful thing to see what seats he did, and to hear what words he spoke. And when they prayed the good Emperor trajan, that it would please him to hear him, he answered. It is not for the authority of a grave and virtuous prince, that in his presence any such vain thing should be showed. For in such a case, he should be no les noted of lightness, than the other accused of folly. And further he said. Before princes a man should not be so hardy to speak dishonest words, nor show light representations. And in such case as much pain deserve they which move him thereto: as those which do represent them. For a man ought not to put before princes things which should allure them to vices: but things which should move them to virtues. Certainly these words were worthy of such a parsonage. Suetonius Tranquillus in the life of Augustus declareth, that in Rome there was a jester very pleasant & of an excellent wit called Epifanius who one day upon a holiday to show the Emperor sun pleasure & hoping to have a good reward, went to the palace at one time in the attire of a page, & another time in the habit of a roman matron: and so truly counterfeited every thing that it seemed not to be him, but the self same parson he represented. The Emperor Augustus was greatly displeased with that the jester had done, and commanded forth with that he should be whipped three times about the theatre. And when he complained, that the Emperor commanded vacabonds to be whipped once, and he thrice, the Emperor Augustus answered. Once they shall whip thee, for the injury thou didst to the roman matron, whom thou didst represent. The second time they shall whip thee, for the presumption that thou hast to represent it before my parson. The third for the time thou hast made divers lose, for beholding and hearing thee. For jesters do not deserve so much punishment, in the jests and mockries they do say: as for the time which they lose, and cause others to lose. Certainly the punishment which was geeven to the jester, was very just: and exceeding good were the words, which Augustus said. There was an other in the time of Augustus whose name was Pilas. And when the Emperor had banished all the jesters, and jugglers from Rome, this Pilas was so pleasant, & merry with all persons, that with great instance they be sought the Emperor to revoke that sentence. And the request in deed was so great as if it had been for a Philosopher, they could have done no more. For dayn, & light men, employ rather that they have, on him who bringeth unto them some folly: then on one, which teacheth and correcteth their life. The Emperor condescended to the request of the people, on such condition, that they should give a master and tutor to Pilas, that should chastise and correct him as a fool. Saying, that since sages took fools to be their masters, that the fools also should have sages for masters. The case was that one day he that had the charge of Pilas, did rebuke him for certain lightness that he had done, or for some dishonesty that he had said: whereat Pilas was exceeding wrath with him. The which the emperor understanding, commanded he should be whipped and banished for ever. When Augustus gave this sentence they say he said these words. Rome hath been mighty, and puissant enough, to make her enemies stoop: and now she is not able to banish jesters, and fools. And that that is worse of all, they have presumption to vex us, and we have not courage to reprove them. The Lacedæmonians had great reason and also the romans, to rid their common wealth of jesters. For they are idle, vicious, dishonest, malicious, and prejudicial to the common wealth. These jesters and jugglers are idle, seeing that more than others, they eat the sweat of others. They are vicious, for they can not excercise their offices but in vices, and in treating with vicious men. They are dishonest, for they get not to eat by doing good works: but by speaking dishonest words. They are malicious, for they have accustomed when they love not a man, immediately to speak evil of him. They are unprofitable for the common wealth, for they mock us and sell us vain words: and we pay them good money. The world is come to so great folly, and corruption, that even as grave and wise men think it great inconvenience, to be conversant with vain, and fond men: so the Lords of estate think it an honour, to have in their house, some foolish jesters, yea better to say (with reverence of speech) railing knaves, which speak not to please and show pastime, but to offend the present, and rail at the absent, aswell of the high, as the low, and that that is more yet then this, is that they are not contented to have given this entertainment and welcome to the noble men and gentlemen that are at their lords board: but they must needs have a cast at my lord himself to cheer him with all: which intolerable abuse ought not only not to be suffered, but with most sharp correction punished. But what shall we say, that for the most part the lords are so vain and the jesters so presumptuous and arrogant: that the Lords have more care to content them, than they have to please the lords. In the house of a lord, a fool at the end of the year will ask more, than any other of those which are most ancient, so that the follies of one are more acceptable, than the services of all. It is shame to speak it, and no less to write it, that the Children of vanity are so vain, that they bribe a fool or a jester no less in these days, to th'intent he may be a mean for them unto the Prince: then they did in times past desire Cicero, to make an oration for them before the Senat. It is for want of understanding, and through the vilety of person oppression of the heart, and dispraise of renown, to be desirous by the mean of fools, too attain to any thing. For he can have no great wisdom, which putteth his hope in the favour of a fool. What remaineth for me to say, when I have said that which I will say? And it is, that if a jester or fool say openly to some lord, God save your life my good lord. Oh he is a noble man in deed he will not stick to give him a gown of silk: and entering into a church, he would not give a poor man a halfpenny.  
O what negligence is there of princes? O what vanity of Lords? since they forsake the poor and wise, to enrich the jesters and fools. They have enough for the world, and not for Jesus' Christ: they give to those that ask for his lovers sake, and not to those which ask for the health of the soul. He ought not to do so: for the knight which is a Christian, and not a worldling, ought rather to will that the poor do pray for him at the hour of death: then that the fools, and jesters should praise him in his life.  
What doth it profit the soul, or the body, that the jesters do praise thee for a cote thou hast geeven them: and that the poor accuse thee, for the bread thou hast denayed them? Peradventure it will profit thee as much, that a fool or a flatterer, go before a Prince appareled with a new livery of thine: as the poor men shall do thee damage before God, to whom thou hast denied a poor ragged shirt? All gentlemen, and noble parsonages, in the name of our saviour jesus Christ I admonish, exhort, and humbly require, that they consider well what they spend, and to whom they give, for the good Princes, aught to have more respect of the necessities of the poor: then of the follies of counterfayts. give as ye will, divide as ye list, for at the hour of death, as much as ye have laughed with the fools, for that ye have geeven them, so much shall ye weep with the poor, for that ye have denayed them. At the hour of death it shallbe grievous pains to him that dieth, to see the flesh of the orphans all naked, and to behold counterfeit fools laden with their garments. Of one thing I am amazed, that indifferently every man may become a fool, and no man let him: and the worst of all is, if once a fool become covetous, all the world afterwards cannot make him to to be in his right senses. Truly such one which hath no reason to be a fool, at the least he hath good occasion: since he getteth more to eat playing, than the others do working. O what negligence of the princes, and what small respect of the governors of the common wealth is this? that a young man, whole, stout, strong, and valiant, should be suffered to go from house to house from table to table, and only for babbling vain words, and telling shameful lies, he should be counted a man of an excellent tongue? Another folly there is in this case, that their words are not so foolish, as their deeds are wicked. And though they have a good, or evil grace: yet in the end, they be counted in the common wealth, as loiterers and fools. I know not whether in this case is greater, either their folly, or our lightness: for they use as fools, in telling us lies, and we pay them good money. The Romans did not permit in their common wealths, old stolen jesters: nor we christians ought to retain into our houses, idle loiterers. Ye ought to know that more offendeth he which sinneth with a deform woman: then he which sinneth with a beautiful lady. And he which is drunk with sour ale offendeth more than he which is drunk with sweet wine. And so in like manner greater offence commit they which lose their times with fools that have no grace: then with jesters, which have good wits. For it may be permitted sometime, that the sage man for the recreation of his spirits, do frequent the company of some pleasant man.   

¶ Of a letter which the Emperor wrote to Lambertus his friend, governor of Hellespont certifying him that he had banished from Rome all fools and loitering players and is divided into .3. chapters, a notable letter for those that keep counterfeit fools in their houses. Cap. xlv.  
MArcus Aurelius only Emperor of Rome, lord of Asia, confederate with Europe, friends of Africa, and enemy of the wars, wisheth health to thee Lambert, governor of the isle of Hellespont. With the furs which thou didst send me. I have caused my gown to be furred, and am girded with the girdle which thou didst present me, and am greatly contented with thy hounds. For all is so good, that the body doth rejoice to possess it, and the eyes to behold it, and also the heart to render thanks for it. Where I did ask a few things of thee in jest, thou hast sent me many in earnest, wherein not as a servant, but as a friend thou hast showed thyself. For the office of noble and worthyharts, is to offer to their friends, not only that which they demand: but that also which they think they will demand. Truly thou hast better measured thy services, by thy nobleness: then I thee demand by my covetousness. For if thou dost remember, I did demand of thee only xii skins: and thou hast sent me .12. dozen. I told thee that I desired .6. hounds for to hunt: and thou hast sent me .12. of the best that can be found in the isle. In such sort, that I have had honour: and thou hast won renown. For in the little I have demanded, they shall see my little covetousness: and in the much thou hast sent me, they shall perceive thy great lyberalyty. I esteem highly that which thou hast sent me: and I beseech the gods send thee good luck. For thou know'st, we may render thanks for the benefits received: but we have not the power to requite the gentleness showed. For the man which dare receive of an other any gift, doth bind himself to be his slave. I can not be thy slave, for I am thy friend: and thereof thou oughst to rejoice, more than an other. For being a servant, I should serve thee with fear: but being thy friend, I will profit thee with friendship. Therefore to declare the chief occasion wherefore I writ unto thee at this present, I say, I send thee .3. ships laden with jesters & jugglers, loiterers, vacabonds, and fools: and yet I do not send unto thee all the vacabonds which are in Rome, for them thy Isle should be peopled with strangers. The office that they had, was that soom of them jested and railed at the table, some sang sundry malicious songs at marriages, others told lies and news for their dinners at the gates, other played common plays in the streets, other entertained the roman matrons with foolish novels and tales, others set forth vain and light books of rhymes and ballets: and yet I swear unto thee by the god Hercules, these loiterers wanted no fools to hear them. I let thee weete, my friend Lambert, that these loiterers are such, and their scholars in number so many that though the masters may be in .3. ships carried: yet the scholars could not be in an hundred transported. Of one thing I marvel much, and also I affirm, that the Gods be offended, since earthquakes overthrew the houses, the great waters carry away the bridges, the frost freeze the vines, the corrupt air infecteth the wise men: and yet is there no plague that consumeth the fools? O how unhappy art thou Rome, unto him that shall well behold thee, and diligently search thee. For in thee wanteth valiant captains, honest Senators, just Censors, faithful officers, and virtuous Princes: and only there aboundeth fools, jesters, players, dysers, loiterers, and vacabonds. O what service thou shouldst do to the gods, and profit to our mother Rome, if for .3. ships of fools, thou didst send us one bark only of wise men? I would not say (but I will not cease to say) that I have seen fools, that I have heard many fools: but I never saw so great fools, nor hard such extreme folly, as that of some noble Romans, and Italyens, who think it a great act to keep a fool in their house. I judge him to be a greater fool, that so desireth to keep a fool: then the fool himself. For a fool hath a semblance of the sage, after that he accompanieth with a sage: but the sage showeth himself a fool, after he accompanieth with a fool. Why do men seek things of mockery? since all that is in the world is mockry? Why seek we fools? Since all that we say, is nothing but folly? Why do we rejoice with those which flatter us? since there are none, that say one only truth? Why do we seek feigned fools: Since that all, or the most part of us all, are very fools? I see divers in Rome, the which though they company with honest men, are dissolute, companyeng with sages they are simple, treating with wise men, they are without consideration, and being conversant with fools, they think to be sage. If we keep company with pitiful, we shallbe pitiful.  
If we be conversant with the cruel, we shall been cruel. If we communicate with liars, we shall be liars. If we haunt the true, we shall be true: and if we desire the foolish, we shallbe fools. For according to the masters and doctrines we have: such shall be the sciences which we shall learn, & the works which we shall follow. The famous tyrant Dionysius the Siracusane, which was in Scicil, said unto the philosopher Diogenes. Tell me Diogenes, what kind of men ought we to have in our houses, & with what persons ought we to divide our goods? Diogenes answered him. The wise man which will live in peace with the common wealth, and that will not see his goods evil employed, ought not to give to eat, nor to accompany with any, but with the aged persons which should counsel them, and with the young which should serve them, with friends which should favour them, and with the poor, to the end they should praise them. Denis the tyrant greatly commended that, which Diogenes the philosopher told him: but he could never profit with that counsel. For as he showed himself a tyrant in robbing: so he showed himself also undiscreet in spending. Presuppose that that which Diogenes the philosopher spoke were true, that is to weet, that we ought to feed the aged, servants, friends, and poor: we see by this answer, it is not just to give to eat, either to jesters, minstrels, parasites, flatterers, loiterers or fools. First me seemeth, that a man ought not to think that fools are capable to give counsel, since they have it not for themselves: for it should be great folly to use men as sages, which of their own will have made themselves fools. The second, me seemeth that it is a vain thing to think, that the jesters should serve as servants: for these unhappy people, to fly travail only, have taken upon them this office so slanderous.  
Thirdly it seemeth to be a shamefast thing, and of great inconvenience, that any noble and sage? man should determine, to have any flatterer, or jester for his famylyar friend: for such ought not, nor cannot be counted among the true friends, since they love us not for the virtue we possess, but for the goods which we have. Fourthly me thinketh it a vain thing to think, that under the colour of poverty it should be just, to give meat to jesters, or loiterers: for we cannot say the such are poor for that they want riches, but that folly aboundeth in them. Since therefore a man is defamed to have such jesters, flatterers, and loiterers for friends, and that for being servants they are unable, and with out wit to ask them counsel: me thinketh it is a great folly, to spend his goods on such loiterers. For as their intentions to the gods only are manifest, and to men secret: so their is nothing wherein the good do approve and manifest their intentions to be good, or evil, more than in the words which they speak, & in the companies which they keep.   

¶ Marcus Aurelius goeth forward with his letter and declareth how he found the sepulchres of many learned Philosophers in Hellespont, whereunto he sent all these loiterers. Cap. xlvi.  
I will thou know Lambert, that thy Isle is consecrated with the bones of many excellent men, the which were banished by sundry tyrannous Princes of Rome. The ancients greatly commend that I'll, because there are therein stones called Amatistes, tame dear, fair women, familiar wolves, swift dogs of foot, and pleasant fountains.  
Yet notwithstanding I will not cease to commend these things which rejoice those that be present, and also comfort those that be to come. For I esteem more the bones, which the earth do cover: then the riches, which groweth thereon. If thou hast not lost the sense of smelling, as that I'll doth savour unto me of sages: so doth Rome stynk of fools. For, for the time it is less pain, to endure the stink of the beast: then to hear the words of a fool. When the wars of Asia were ended, I returned home by that isle, wherein I visited all the living people, and all the graves of the dead philosophers. And for, a truth, I tell thee Lambert, the that journey was veri troublesome unto me: for here in my person endured much pain, on the land I suffered divers dangers, and on the sea I saw myself in sundry perils. In the city of Corinthe (where thou art resident at this present) in the midst of the market place, thou shalt find the grave of the philosopher Panimio, to whom the straight friendship availed little, which he had with ovid: but the enmity greatly endamaged him which he had with Augustus the emperor. Two miles from Theadfonte at the foot of the mountains Arpines thou shalt find the grave of the famous orator Armeno, who was by the consul Scylla unjustly banished, And of troth, as here was much blood lost, because Scylla should not enter into Rome: so there were not few tears shed in italy, for the banishment of this philosopher. In the gate of Argonata, hard by the water, in the top of a high rock, thou shalt find the bones of Celliodorus the Philosopher, who observed all the ancient laws: and was a great enemy of those, which brought in new customs, and statutes.  
This good Philosopher was banished, in the prosperity & fury of the Marian's: nor for the evils they found in him, but for the vices he reproved in them. In the fyldes Heliny, there was a great tomb, within the which were the bones of Selleno the philosopher, who was aswell learned in the vii liberal arts: as if he himself had first invented them.  
And he was banished by the Emperor Nero, for because he persuaded this cruel Emperor, to be merciful, & pitiful. In the same fields Heliny out of the woods towards the west part, thou shalt find the grave of the philosopher Vulturnus a man in Astrology profoundly learned which little availed him in his banishment  
For he was banished by Marcus Antonius, not for that Marcus Antonius would have banished him (for he was not offended by him) but because his love Cleopatra hated him, as her mortal enemy.  
For women of an evil life, revenge commonly their angry hearts, with the death of their especial friends. divers other tombs in that I'll I saw, the names whereof though in writing I have them: yet at this present I cannot call them to memory. Well, by the faith of an honest man I swear unto thee, that thou shalt find all true which I have told thee. Now I tell thee Lambert, that I visiting those graves, their disciples did not bear them greater obedience, when they were alive: then I did reverence now they are dead. And it is true also, that in all that time my eyes were as much wet with water, as their bones were covered with earth. These philosophers were not banished, for mischiefs by their persons committed, nor for slanders they had done in the common wealths: but because the deeds of our fathers deserved, that they should be taken from their company, and we their children were not worthy, to have the bones of so famous, and renowned sages in our custody. I cannot tell, if the envy I have to that I'll be greater, or the pity I have of this miserable Rome: for the one is immortal by the graves of the dead, and the other is defamed with the life of the living.  
I desire thee heartily as a friend, and do command thee as a servant, that thou keep the privileges which I give to that I'll, without breaking any one. For it is very just, that such cities peopled with such dead, should be privileged of the living. By this Centurion, thou shalt know all things which are chanced amongst the prisoners.  
For if I should write all the whole matter unto thee as it was done: I ensure thee, unto me it would be much pain to write it, & to thee great trouble to read it. It sufficeth presently to say that the day of the great solemnity of the mother Berecinthe a slanderer arose in Rome by the occasion of these jesters, scoffers, and loiterers: and by the faith of a good man, I swear unto thee, that the blood which was shed through the places, surmounted the wine which was drunk at the feast. And think not that which I say to be little that the blood which was shed, surmounted the wine that was drunk.  
For as thou now knowest, the citizens are come to so great folly: that he which was on that day most drunk, they said that he had offered unto the God's greatest sacrifices. I am yet afraid, to remember the cruelties which that day I saw with my own eyes: but I am much more ashamed of that which they talk of us in strange realms. For the noble and worthy hearts, do not count it so much to receive a great wound: as to take it of a cowardly man. There is great difference between the nets, where with they take brides, and no less is there between the hooks, wherewith they take fish. I mean that the knife which cutteth the flesh, differeth much from the knife which hurteth the heart. For the hurts of the body, with surgeons may be healed: but the gods only are the physicians of the perils of the heart.  
I saw Rome which was never vanquished by valiant men at that day overcome by loiterers. Rome which could never be won by those of Carthage, is now won by jesters, players, & vacabonds. Rome which triumphed of all the realms, is now vanquished of the loiterers, jesters, & idle persons.  
Finally, we saw that Rome which in times past gave laws to the Barbarous, is now become the slave of fools: in this case I have been so troubled, that I cannot tell what to say, and less what I write unto thee. One thing comforteth me, that since Rome & her romans do not rejoice themselves but with fools: that she and her children be not punished, but by the hands of fools. I think not that in this case the Gods do any wrong, if Rome which laughed through mockery at the players: do weep one day with the loiterers in good earnest. Thou mightst demand me Lambert, since we other Princes are bound to maintain equal justice with all: wherefore we do dissemble many offences which others have done in earnest: and yet we will not pardon those jesters, since all that they have invented, was for mirth and pastime? I promise thee, though their offences were great in deed: yet I do not banish them so much for the blood they have shed, as for the good orders which they have perverted. Once again I return to say unto thee, that I have not banished them so much for because they were occasion of murders: as to be teachers of all lies. Without comparison, greater is the offence to the gods, and greater is the damage to the common wealth to take away (as these loiterers have done) the senses of wise men: then that which the murderers do, to take life from their enemies. The end of these jesters, scoffers, jugglers, idle men, and those kind of rascals, is always to persuade men that they speak continually in mockries, treat continually in mockries, and to rid them of their sorrows, and all this is but to deceive them of their goods. In the which case I say, and so pleased it the gods, that they should content themselves with the goods, without robbing us of our wisdom. When Scipio the African had ended the wars of Africa, he went through Rome accompanied not with valiant captains: but with the players, jesters, and jugglers. The which a philosopher seeing, said unto him these words. O Scipio, according to the much they have talked of thee, & the little I see in thee, it had been better thou hadst died in Africa, then to come to Rome. For thy high acts, in thy absence did astony us: and thy lightness in thy presence doth offend us. To thee it is great infamy, and to the sacred senate little honesty, that thou having conquered so mighty princes in afric, shouldst go accompanied with fools, and mad men in Rome. I let thee weete Scipio, that thy life had not then so much peril among thy enemies: as thy honour hath at this present among fools. These words were very good, though they were evil received, of human malice. For by reason of these words the poor aged philosopher was banished (by the friends of Scipio) out of Italy and sent to the isle of Helesponte.   

¶ The Emperor endeth his letter, & showeth the cause and time why and when these jesters, and jugglers were admitted into Rome. Cap. xlvii.  
AFter that these loiterers and vacabounds shall landlord in thy Isle, thou shalt let them go at liberty & shalt take none of their goods: but thou shalt advertise them that they be not so hardy, to exercise their crafts nor feats. For if they do the contrary thou mayst make them lose their life in thy Isle, which I have conditionally pardoned here in Rome. One thing I command thee, and I beesech thee forget it not, that is to weet: that thou compel them to labour, and that in no means thou suffer them to be idle.  
For Idleness is the mother of all vices in the parson, and the causer of all slanders which arise in the common wealth. Since we know not but to labour, and the loiterers know not but to loiter, I would say, that with more reason they might say that we were not sage: then we might say that they are fools. For wrongfully are they called fools, which by craft eat the sweat of others: Seeing the little regard we have to these loiterers, and considering how much we presume: by the faith of a good man I swear unto thee Lamberte, that with greater reason they should mock our works: then we others should laugh at their words. For they profit more with our goods, than we do of their folly. In the, CCxli. of the foundation of Rome a sore plague came into Italy. The which being ended, they determined to tell not the thousands of men that were dead: but the small number of those which remained alive. Rome afterwards being so solitary, and Italy so desolate, only to rejoice the people, and to the end the cities should not remain unhabited, the first theathers were invented, and then first were these players received. For until that time the romans known no other thing, but to offer sacrifice to their gods in the temples: and to fight against their enemies in the fields. O lamentable thing to hear, that this plague lasted only xxiiii months, and the rage and folly of these players, and idle men, hath endured more than four years. Would to the immortal gods, that that plague had ended those few which remain: before this cursed generation had brought so abominable customs into Rome. For much better had it been for our mother Rome, that she had wanted inhabiters, than such rascals should have come and dwelled therein. I know well (Lambert) that these parsons do greatly complain of me, and that the complaints which they do in the beeginning, shall not have an end there: but I care not much for the complaints of the evil which do serve for no other thing but to reprove the justices which are ministered unto them by the good. The princes in that they command, and the judges in that they execute, ought not much to esteem the complaints of all those which say they have wrong: Provided that the cause be justified, and that under the colour of justice they do no wrong in deed. In the flatteries which they tell us concerning our glory, and in the slanders which they speak of us concerning our reproach, wise men ought well to note the nature of the parson which speaketh it, whether that be true which he speaketh, & what moveth him to tell it, For as it is a shame for to be rebuked of a man which is honest: so it is no small infamy to be praised of those which are evil.  
Since the time I was borne, I never saw any thing less profitable in the common wealth, nor more vain, neither worse inventions, nor colder recreations than these are, which these jesters, players, and jugglers do invent.  
What thing can be more monstrous, then to see the folly of a fool bring divers wise men out of their wits? What greater mockery can there be, then that all do think that the jests of a fool ought to be rejoiced at, with the laughter of the sage? What greater slander can there be, than that in the offices of the noble and worthy romans, the gates should always be open for fools: and the wise men should find them always shut? What greater cruelty can there be in Rome, then that the senators and rich men give more to a player, for a song which he singeth in one hour, than they do to the servants for serving them a whole year? What greater theft can there be than this, that the garrisons which are in Illiria want: and players, jesters jugglers, flatterers, and loiterers, in Rome have to much? What greater shame can Rome receive then this, when it shall be said in time to come, that jugglers, players, parasites, jesters, and flatterers, have won more with their juggling, playing, jesting and flattering: then divers captains with their weapons, and triumphs? Behold therefore Lambert, what difference there is between captains, and loiterers. For when the one went through Rome, sowing their follies from gate to gate: the others went from realm to realm consuming their goods, adventuring their lives, fight against the barbarous people, and shedding their own proper blood.  
And in the hindermost part of Spain, when those of Seville had war with the Gaditanes, it chanced that even in the midst of the time those of Sevil wanted money, and, two. parasites offered themselves for ii years to sustain the wars, with their own proper goods: so that with the riches of two fools: many wise men were overcome. When the Amazons were ladies of Asia, than they built the great temple of the goddess Diana. And as the histories account, only with that they took away from a player, was built this noble temple. If the histories of the Egyptians do not deceive me, king Cadmus, who with a .100. gates built the great city of Thebes, for such a building, so high and monstrous a city, all his subjects together gave him not so much, as two parasites did alone. When the good emperor Augustus renewed the walls of Rome, and made them of hard stone, which before that time were only of earth and brick, towards such a costly work, he had more of two parasites which were drowned, then of all the city beeside. I being in the city of Corinthe, saw an ancient tomb, wherein the Corinthians say their first king was buried. And the historiographers say that this king was a great wrostler, other say he was a parasite, others say he was a juggler, but how so ever it was, he was first a jester, and obtained a realm in earnest. Behold therefore Lambert, how they are neglected of the gods, and favoured of fortune, and in how little estimation the goods of this life ought to be esteemed: sins some by counterfeiting the fools, leave of them as great a memory of their folly, as the others do by their wisdom. There is one thing only of these loiterers that pleaseth me, that is to weet, that in presence they make every man laugh with the follies they speak: and after that they are gone, all remain sad for the money they carry away. Truly it is a just sentence of the gods, that those which have taken vanie pleasures togethers, do weep after wards for their losses severally. At this present I will write no more unto thee, but that I send thee this letter written in Greek, to the end thou mayst read it to all those of that isle. And thou shalt immediately dispatch the ships, to the end they carry the provisions to the men of war in Illiria. Peace be with thee Lambert, health and good fortune to me Mark.  
The senate saluteth thee, and do send thee the prorogation of the government for the next year. In the calends of january thou shalt say Gaude felix. my wife Faustine commendeth her to thee, & sendeth thee for thy daughter a rich girdle. In payment of thy services, I send thee ii rich jewels, two. light horses, and one laden with .4000. sexterces. Marcus of mount Celio, with his own hand writeth unto thee.   

¶ That princes and noble men ought to remember that they are mortal, and must die, where are sundry notable consolations against the fear of death. Cap. xlviii.  
CLeobolus and Biton were the sons of a renowned woman, the which was Nun to the goddess juno: and when the day of that solemn feast was celebrated, her children prepared a chariot, wherein their mother should go to the temple. For the Greeks had this custom, the day that the priests went to offer any sacrifices, either they were carried on men's arms, or in chariots. They adorned their temples so well, they esteemed their sacrifices so much, and did so much honour their priests: that if any priest did set his foot on the ground, that day they did not permit him to offer any sacrifices to the gods. It chanced as this Nun went in her chariot, and her children Cleobolus and Biton with her, the beasts which drew the chariot, suddenly fell down dead ten miles from the temple of the goddess juno. The children seeing the beasts dead, and that the mother cooled not go a foot, and that the chariot was all ready, and that there were no beasts to draw it: they (as loving children) determined to yoke themselves, and draw the chariot as if they had been doom beasts. And as the mother carried than ix months in her womb, so did they draw her in the chariot ten miles. Now for that they passed through infinite nomberz of men, to the great feast of the goddess juno: every man seeing Cleobolus and Biton yoked in the chariot like beasts, were greatly amazed, saying that these two children deserved with great rewards to be recompensed. And truly they said justly, and so the deserved it. For they deserved as much to be praised for the example which they showed to all children to reverence their parents: as for carrying their mother in the chariot to the temple. So after that the feast was ended, the mother not knowing how to requite the benefit of her children, with many tears beesought the goddess juno, that she with the other gods would be contented, to give her ii children the best thing that the gods cooled give to their friends. The goddess juno answered her, that she was contented to require the other gods, and that they would do it. And the reward was, that for this noble fact the gods ordained, that Cleobolus and Biton should sleep one day well, and in the morning when they should wake, they should die. The mother pitifully beewayling the death of her children: and complaining of the gods, the goddess juno said unto her. Thou hast no cause why to complain, sins we have geeven thee that thou hast demanded: and hast demanded that which we have geeven thee. I am a goddess, and thou art my servant & therefore the gods have geeven to thy children the thing, which they count most dear, which is death. For the greatest revenge which amongst us gods we can take of our enemies, is to let them live long: and the best thing that we keep for our friends, is to make them die quickly.  
The auctor of this history is called Hisearchus in his politics, and Cicero in his first book of his Tusculans. In the isle of Delphos, where the Oracle of the god Apollo was, there was a sumptuous temple, the which for want of reparation fell down to the ground as often times it chanceth to high & sumptuous buildings, which from time to time are not repaired. For if the walls, dungeons, castles, and strong houses cooled speak, as well would they complain for that they do not renew them, as the old men do for that we do not cherish them. Triphon, and Agamendo, were two noble personages of Greece, and counted for sage and rich men: the which went unto the temple of Apollo, and built it new again, as well with the labour of their persons, as with the great expenses of their goods. When the building was achieved, the god Apollo said unto them, that he remembered well their good service, wherefore he would they should demand him any thing in reward of their travail, and with a good will it should be granted. For the gods use, for a little service, to give a great reward. Triphon, and Agamendo, answered unto the god Apollo, that for their good will, for their travel, and for their expenses, they demanded no other reward: but that it would please him to give them the best thing that might be geeven unto man, and that unto them were most profit: saying, that the miserable men have not the power to eschew the evil, nor wisdom to choose the good. The god Apollo answered, that he was contented to pay them their service which they had done, and to grant them that which they had demanded. By reason whereof, Triphon, and Agamendo having dined, suddenly at the gates of the temple fell down dead. So that the reward of their travel, was to pluck them out of their misery. The end to declare these two examples is to th'end that all mortal men may know, that there is nothing so good in this world as to have an end of this life: and though to lose it there be no savour, yet at the least there is profit. For we would reprove a traveler of great foolishness, if sweeting by the way he would sing: and after at his journeys end he should begin to weep. Is not he simple, which is sorry for that he is comen into the haven? is not he simple, that giveth the battle, and fighteth for that he hath got the victory? Is not he stubbern, which is in great distress, and is angry to be succoured? Therefore, more foolish, simple, and stubbern is he, which traveleth to die, and is loath to meet with death. For death is the true refuge, the perfect health, the sure haven, the whole victory, the flesh without bones, fish without scales, and corn without straw: Finally after death we have nothing to beewail, and much less to desire.  
In the time of Adrian the emperor, a philosopher called Secundus (being marvelously learned) made an oration at the funeral of a noble roman matron (a kinswoman of the emperors) who spoke exceeding much evil of life, & marvelous much good of death. And when the emperor demanded him what death was, the philosopher answered: Death is an eternal sleep, a dissolution of the body, a terror of the rich, a desire of the poor, a thing inheritable, a pilgrimage uncertain, a thief of men, a kind of sleeping, a shadow of life, a separation of the living, a company of the dead, a resolution of all a rest of travels, and the end of all idle desires. Finally death is the scourge of all evil, and the chief reward of the good.  
Truly this philosopher spoke very well, & he should not do evil, which profoundly would consider that he had spoken. Seneca in an epistle declareth, of a philosopher whose name was Bassus, to whom when they demanded what evil a man can have in death, since men fear it so much, he answered. If any damage or fear is in him who dieth, it is not for the fear of death: but for the vice of him which dieth. We may agree to that the philosopher said, that even as the deaf can not judge harmony, nor the blind colours: so likewise they cannot say evil of death, in especially he which never tasted it. For of all those which are dead, none returned again to complain of death: and of these few that live, all complain of life. If any of the dead returned hither to speak with the living, and as they have proved it, so they would tell us. If there were any harm in secret death, it were reason to have some fear of death? But though a man that never saw, hard, felt, nor tasted death, doth speak evil of death, should we therefore fear death? Those aught to have done some evil in their life, which do fear and speak evil of death. For in the last hour, in the straight judgement, the good shallbe known, and the evil discovered. There is no prince nor knight, rich nor poor, whole nor sick, lucky nor unlucky, which I see with their vocations to be contented, save only the dead: which in their graves are in peace and rest, and are neither covetous, proud, negligent, vain, ambitious, nor dissolute. So that the state of the dead aught to be best, since we see none therein to be evil contented. And since therefore those which are poor, do seek wherewith to enrich themselves, those which are sad, do seek whereby to rejoice, and those which are sick, do seek to be healed, why is it, that those which have such fear of death, do seek some remedy against that fear? In this case I would say, that he which will not fear to die, let him use himself well to live. For the guiltless taketh away fear from death. The divine Plato demanded Socrates how he beehaved himself in life, and how he would behave himself in death, he answered. I let thee weete, that in youth I have traveled to live well, and in age I have studied to die well: and sith my life hath been honest, I hope my death shallbe joyful. And though I have had sorrow to live, I am sure I shall have no pain to die. Truly these words were worthy of such a man. Men of stout hearts suffer marvelously, when the sweat of their travel is not rewarded, when they are faithful, and their reward answereth nothing to their true service: when for their good services, their friends become unthankful to them, when they are worthy honour, and that they prefer them to honourable room and office. For the noble and valiant hearts, do not esteem to lose the reward of their labour: but think much unkindness, when a man doth not acknowledge their travel. O happy are they that die: For without inconvenience and without pain every man is, in his grave. For in this tribunal, justice to all is so equally observed: that in the same place where we have deserved life, in the same place we merited death. There was never nor never shall be judge so just, nor in justice so upright, that giveth reward by weight, & pain by measure: but sometimes they chastise the innocent, and absolve the guilty, they vex the faultless, and dissemble with the culpable. For little availeth it the plaintiff to have good justice: if conscience want to the judge that should minister. Truly it is not so in death, but all aught to count themselves happy. For he which shall have good justice, shallbe sure on his part to have the sentence. When great Cato was censor in Rome, a famous roman died, who showed at his death a marvelous courage: and when the romans praised him for that he had so great virtue, and for the words he had spoken, Cato the Censor laughed at that they said, for that they praised him. And he being demanded the cause of his laughter, answered. Ye marvel at that I laugh, and I laugh at that you marvel. For the perils and travels considered wherein we live, and the safety wherein we die. I say, that it is no more needful to have virtue & strength to live, than courage to die. The author hereof is Plutarch in his Apothegms. We cannot say but that Cato the Censor spoke as a wise man, since daily we see, shamefast and virtuous persons suffer hunger, cold, thirst, travel, poverty, inconvenience, sorrows, enmities, and mishaps: of the which things we were better to see the end in one day, then to suffer them every hour.  
For it is less evil to suffer an honest death: then to endure a miserable life. O how small consideration have men to think, that they ought to die but once. Since the truth is, that the day when we are born, and comen in to the world is the beeginning of our death: and the last day is when we do cease to live. If death be no other but an ending of life, than reason persuadeth us to think, that our infancy dieth, our childhood dieth, our manhood dieth, & our age shall die: whereof we may consequently conclude, that we die every year, every day, every hour, and every moment. So that thinking to lead a sure life, we taste a new death. I know not why men fear so much to die, since that from the time of their birth, they seek none other thing but death. For time never wanted to any man to die, neither I knew any man that ever failed of this way. Seneca in an epistle declareth that as a Roman woman lamented the death of a child of hers, a philosopher said unto her: Woman why beewaylest thou thy child? she answered I weep because he hath lived xxv years, & I would he should have lived till thirty. For amongst us mothers, we love our children so heartily, that we never cease to behold them, nor yet end to beewayl them. Then the Philosopher said. Tell me I pray thee woman, why dost thou not complain of the gods, because they created not thy son many years before he was born: as well as thou complainest that they have not let him live l years? Thou weepest, that he is dead so soon: and thou dost not lament that he is borne so late. I tell thee true woman, that as thou dost not lament for the one, no more thou oughtest to be sorry for the other. For without the determination of the gods, we can not shorten death: and much less lengthen life. So Pliny said in an epistle, that the chiefest law which the gods have geeven to human nature was, that none should have perpetual life. For with disordinate desire to live long, we should never rejoice to go out of this pain. Two philosophers disputing before the great Emperor Theodose, the one said that it was good to procure death: and the other likewise said, it was a necessary thing to hate life. The good Theodose taking him by the hand said. All we mortals are so extreem in hating, and loving: that under the colour to love, and hate life, we lead an evil life. For we suffer so many travels for to preserve it, that sometimes it were much better to lose it. And further he said, divers vain men are come into so great follies, that for fear of death, they procure to hasten death. And having consideration to this, me seemeth that we ought not greatly to love life, nor with desperation to seek death. For the strong and valiant men, ought not to hate life so long as it lasteth: nor to be displeased with death, when he cometh. All commended that which Theodose spoke, as Paulus Diaconus saith in his life. Let every man speak what he will, and let the philosopher's counsel what they list, in my poor judgement, he alone shall receive death without pain: who long before is prepared to receive the same. For sudden death is not only bitter to him which tasteth it: but also it feareth him that hateth it. Lactantius said, that in such sort man ought to live, as if from hence an hour after he should die.  
For those men which will have death before their eyes, it is unpossible that they give place to vain thoughts. In my opinion, and also by the advise of Apuleius, it is as much folly to fly from that which we cannot avoid: as to desire that we cannot attain. And this is spoken for those, that would fly the viage of death which is necessary: and desire to come again which is unpossible. Those that travel by long ways, if they want any thing, they borrow it of their company. If they have forgotten aught, they return to seek it at their lodging, or else they writ unto their friends a letter. But I am sorry that if we once die, they will not let us return again, we cannot speak, and they will not agree we shall write: but such as they shall find us, so shall we be judged. And that which is most fearful of all, the execution and sentence is geeven in one day. Let princes and great lords believe me in this. Let them not leave that undone till after their death: which they may do during their life. And let them not trust in that they command: but in that whiles they live they do. Let them not trust in the works of an other: but in their own good deeds. For in the end, one sigh shallbe more worth, than all the friends of the world. I counsel, pray, and exhort all wise and virtuous men, and also myself with them, that in such sort we live, that at the hour of death, we may say we live. For we cannot say that we live, when we live not well. For all that time which without profit we shall live, shall be counted unto us for nothing.   

¶ Of the death of Marcus Aurelius the Emperor, and how there are few friends which dare say the truth to sick men. Cap. xlix.  
THe good Emperor Marcus Aurelius now being aged, not only for the great years he had: but also for the great travels he had in the wars endured: It chanced, that in the xviii year of his Empire, and lxxii years from the day of his birth, and of the foundation of Rome .v. hundredth xliii. being in the war of Pannony (which at this time is called Hungary) beeseeging a famous city called Vendeliona, suddenly a disease of the palsy took him, which was such, that he lost his life, and Rome her Prince, the best of life that ever was born therein. Among the heathen princes some had more force than he, other possessed more riches than he, others were as adventurous as he, and some have known as much as he: but none hath been of so excellent and virtuous a life, nor so modest as he. For his life being examined to the uttermost, there are many princely virtues to follow, & few vices to reprove. The occasion of his death was, that going one night about his camp, suddenly the disease of the palsy took him in his arm: so that from thence forward he cooled not put on his gown, nor draw his sword, and much less carry a staff. The good emperor being so laden with years, and no less with cares, the sharp winter approaching more and more, great abundance of water and snow fell about the tennis: so that an other disease fell upon him, called Lethargy, the which thing much abated his courage, and in his host caused great sorrow. For he was so beloved of all, as if they had been his own children. After that he had proved all medicines and remedies that cooled be found, and all other things, which unto so great and mighty princes were accustomed to be done, he perceived in the end, that all remedy was passed. And the reason hereof was, because his sickness was exceeding vehement, & he himself very aged, the air unwholesome, & above all, because sorrows & cares oppressed his heart. Without doubt, greater is the disease that proceedeth of sorrow, then that which proceedeth of the fever quartain. And thereof ensueth, that more easily is he cured, which of corrupt humours is full: then he which with profound thoughts is oppressed. The emperor then being sick in his chamber, & in such sort that he cooled not exercise the feats of arms: as his men ran out of their camp to scirmidge, & the Hungarions in like manner to defend, the fight on both parts was so cruel, through the great effution of blood, that neither the hungarion had cause to rejoice, nor yet the roman to be merry. Understanding the evil order of his, & specially that .v. of his captains were slain in the conflict, & that he for his disease cooled not be there in person: such sorrows pierced his heart, that although he desired forthwith to have died, yet he remained two days & three nights, without that he would see light, or speak unto any man of his. So that the heat was much, the rest was small, the sighs were continual, and the thirst very great: the meat little, and the sleep less, and above all his face wrynkled, and his lips very black. Sometimes he cast up his eyes, and another time he wrong his hands: always he was silent, and continually he sighed. His tongue was swollen, that he cooled not spit: and his eyes very hollow with weeping. So that it was a great pity, to see his death: and no less compassion, to see the confusion of his palace, and the hindrance of the war. Many valiant captains, many noble romans, many faithful servants, and many old friends, at all these heaviness were present. But none of them durst speak to the Emperor Mark, partly for that they took him to be so sage, that they knew not what counsel to give him: and partly for that they were so sorrowful, that they cooled not refrain their heavy tears. For the loving and true friends, in their life ought to be beloved: and at their death to be beewailed. Great compassion ought men to have of those which die, not for that we see them die: but because there are none that telleth them what they ought to do. Princes and great lords are in greater peril when they die: then the plebeians. For the consellor dare not tell unto his Lord at the hour of death, that which he knoweth: and much less he will tell him how he ought to die, and what things he ought to discharge whiles he is alive. Many go to visit the sick, that I would to god they went some other where. And the cause hereof is, that they see the sick man's eyes hollow, the flesh dried, the arms without flesh, the colour inflamed, the ague continual, the pain great, the tongue swollen, nature consumed, and beesydes all this, the house destroyed: and yet they say unto the sick man, be of good cheer, I warrant you, you shall live. As young men naturally desire to live, and as death to all old men is dreadful: so though they see themselves in that distress, yet they refuse no medicine, as though there were great hope of life. And thereof ensueth oftentimes, that the miserable creatures depart the world, without confessing unto god, and making restitutions unto men.  
O if those which do this, knew what evil they do. For to take away my goods, to trouble my person, to blemish my good name, to slander my parentage, and to reprove my life, these works are of cruel enemies: but to be occasion to lose my soul, it is the work of the devil of hell. Certainly he is a devil, which deceiveth the sick with flatteries: and that in steed to help him to die well, putteth him in vain hope of long life.  
Herein he that saith it, winneth little: and he that believeth it, adventureth much. To mortal men it is more meet, to give counsels to reform their consciences with the truth: then to hazard their houses with lies. With our friends we are shameless in their life, and also bashful at their death. The which ought not to be so. For if our fathers were not dead, and that we did not daily see these that are present die: me thinketh it were a shame and also a fear, to say to the sick that he alone should die. But since thou know'st as well as he, and he knoweth as well as thou, that all do travel in this perilous journey: what shame hast thou to say unto thy friend, that he is now at the last point? If the dead should now revive, how would they complain of their friends? And this for no other cause, but for that they would not give them good counsel at their death. For if the sick man be my friend, and that I see peradventure he will die: why shall not I counsel him to prepare himself to die? Certainly oftentimes we see by experience, that those which are prepared, and are ready for to die, do escape: and those which think to live do perish. What should they do which go to visit the sick? persuade them that they make their testaments, that they confess their sins, that they discharge their conscience, that they receive the Communion, and that they do reconcile themselves to their enemies.  
Certainly, all these things charge not the lance of death, nor cut not the thread of life. I never saw blindness so blind, nor ignorance so ignorant, as to be ashamed to counsel the sick, that they are bound to do when they are whole. As we have said here above, Princes and great Lords, are those above all other that live and die most abusedly. And the cause is, that as their servants have no hearts to persuade them when they are merry: so have they no audacity to tell them truth, when they are in peril. For such servants care little, so that their masters beequeath them any thing in their wills, whether they die well, or live evil.  
O what misery, and pity is it, to see a Prince, a Lord, a gentleman, and a rich person die, if they have no faithful friend about them, to help them to pass that pain? And not without a cause I say, that he ought to be a faithful friend. For many in our life do gape after our goods, and few at our deaths are sorry for our offences. The wise and sage men, before nature compelleth them to die, of their own will aught to die. That is to weet, that before they see themselves in the pangs of death, they have their consciences ready prepared. For if we count him a fool, which will pass the sea without a ship: truly we will not count him wise, which taketh his death without any preparation before. What loseth a wise man to have his will well ordained? in what adventure of honour is any man before death, to reconcile himself to his enemies: and to those whom he hath born hate and malice? What loseth he of his credit, who in his life time restoreth that, which at his death they will command him to render? wherein may a man show himself to be more wise, then when willingly he hath discharged that, which afterwards by process they will take from him? O how many princes, & great lords are there, which only not for spending one day about their testament, have caused their children, and heirs, all the days of their life to be in traverse in the law? So that they supposing to have left their children wealthy: have not left them, but for attorneys and counsellors of the law. The true and unfeigned Christian, ought every morning so to dispose his goods, and correct his life: as if he should die the same night. And at night in like manner he ought so to commit himself to god, as if he hoped for no life until morning. For to say the truth, to sustain life, there are infinite travels: but to meet death, there is but one way. If they will credit my words, I would counsel no man in such estate to live: that for any thing in the world, he should undo himself. The rich and the poor, the great and the small, the gentlemen and the Plebeians, all say and swear, that of death they are exceeding fearful. To whom I say and affirm, that he alone feareth death, in whom we see amendment of life. Princes and great lords, ought also to be perfect before they be perfect, to end before they end, to die before they die, and to be mortified before they be mortified. If they do this with themselves, they shall as easily leave their life: as if they changed from one house to an other. For the most part of men delight to talk with leisure, to drink with leisure, to eat with leisure, & to sleep with leisure: but they die in haste. Not without cause I say they die in haste, since we see them receive the sacrament of the supper of the lord in haste, make their wills by force, & with speed to confess and receive. So that they take it, and demand it so late, and so without reason: that often times they have lost their senses, and are ready to give up the spirit, when they bring it unto them.  
What availeth the ship master, after the ship is sonk? what do weapons avail, after the battle is lost? What availeth pleasures after men are dead? By that I have spoken, I will demand, what it availeth the sick, being heavy with sleep, and beereft of their senses, to call confessors, to whom they confess their sins? Evil shall he be confessed, which hath no understanding to repent himself. What availeth it to call the confessor, to understand the secret of his conscience: when the sick man hath lost his speech? Let us not deceive ourselves, saying in our age, we will amend hereafter: & make restitution at our death. For in mine opinion, it is not the point of wise men, nor of good christians, to desire so much time to offend: and they will never espy any to amend. would to god, that the third part of time which men occupy in sin, were employed about the meditations of death: and the cares which they have to accomplish their fleshly lusts, were spent in beewayling their filthy sins. I am very sorry at my heart, that they so wickedly pass their life, in vices and pleasures as if there were no God, to whom they should render account for their offences. All worldlings willingly do sin, upon hope only in age to amend, and at death to repent: but I would demand him, that in this hope sinned, what certainty he hath in age of amendment, and what assurance he hath to have long warning before he die. Since we see by experience, there are more in number which die young, then old: it is no reason we should commit so many sins in one day, that we should have cause to lament afterwards all the rest of our life. And afterwards to beewail the sins of our long life, we desire no more but one space of an hour. Considering the omnipotency of the divine mercy it sufficeth, ye and I say, that the space of an hour is to much, to repent us of our wicked life: but yet I would counsel all, since the sinner for to repent taketh but one hour, that that be not the last hour. For the sighs and repentance, which proceed from the bottom of the heart, penetrate the high heavens: but those which come of necessity, doth not pierce the ceiling of the house. I allow and commend, that those that visit the sick, do counsel them to examine their conscienses, to receive the communion, to pray unto god, to forgive their enemiez, and to recommend themselves to the devout prayers of the people, and to repent their sins, finally I say, that it is very good to do all this: but yet I say it is better, to have done it before. For the diligent and careful Pirate, prepareth for the tempest, when the sea is calm. He that deeply would consider, how little the goods of this life are to be esteemed: let him go to see a rich man when he dieth, and what he doth in his bed. And he shall find that the wife demandeth of the poor husband her dower, the daughter the third part, the other the fift, the child the pre-eminence of age, the son in law his marriage, the physician his duty, the slave his liberty, the servants their wages, the creditors their debts, and the worst of all is, that none of those that ought to inherit his goods, will give him one glass of water. Those that shall here or read this, aught to consider, that that which they have seen done at the death of their neighbours: the same shall come to them, when they shallbe sick at the point of death. For so soon as the rich shutteth his eyes, forthwith there is great strife between the children for his goods. And this strife is not to unburden his soul: but which of them shall inherit most of his possessions. In this case, I will not my pen travel any further, since both rich and poor, daily see the experience hereof. And in things very manifest, it sufficeth only for wise men to be put in memory, without wasting any more time to persuade them. Now the Emperor Marcus Aurelius had a secretary very wise, and virtuous, through whose hands the affairs of the Empire passed. And when this secretary saw his lord, and master, so sick, and almost at the hour of death, and that none of his parents nor friends durst speak unto him: he plainly determined to do his duty, wherein he showed very well the profound knowledge he had in wisdom, and the great good will he bore to his lord. This secretary was called Panutius, the virtues and life of whom, Sextus Cheronensis in the life of Marcus Aurelius declareth.   

¶ Of the comfortable words, which the Secretary Panutius spoke to the Emperor Marcus Aurelius at the hour of his death. Cap. l.  
O My lord, and master, my tongue cannot keep silence, mine eyes cannot refrain from bitter tears, nor my heart leave from fetching sighs, ne yet reason can use his duty. For my blood boileth, my sinews are dried, my pores be open, my heart doth faint, and my spirit is troubled. And the occasion of all this is, to see that the wholesome counsels which thou givest to others: either thou canst not, or will not take for thyself. I see thee die my lord, and I die for that I cannot remedy thee. For if the gods would have granted me my request, for the lengthening of thy life one day: I would give willingly my whole life. Whether the sorrow be true, or feigned, it needeth not I declare unto thee with words, since thou mayst manifestly discern it by my countenance. For my eyes with tears are wet, and my heart with sighs is very heavy. I feel much the want of thy company. I feel much the damage which (of thy death) to the whole common wealth shall ensue. I feel much thy sorrow which in thy palace shall remain, I feel much for that Rome this day is undone: but that which above all things doth most torment my heart, is to have seen thee live as wise, and now to see thee die as simple. Tell me I pray thee, my lord, why do men learn the Greek tongue, travel to understand the hebrew, sweat in the latin, change so many masters, turn so many books, and in study consume so much money and so many years: if it were not to know how to pass life with honour, and take death with patience? The end why men ought to study, is to learn to live well. For there is no truer science in man, then to know how to order his life well. What profiteth it me to know much, if thereby I take no profit? what profiteth me to know strange languages, if I refrain not my tongue from other men's matters? what profiteth it to study many books, if I study not but to beguile my friends? what profiteth it to know the influence of the stars, and the course of the elements: if I cannot keep myself from vices? Finally I say, that it little availeth to be a master of the sage: if secretly he be reported to be a follower of fools. The chief of all philosophy consisteth to serve god, and not to offend men. I ask thee, most noble prince, what availeth it the Pilot to know the art of sailing: and after in a tempest by negligence to perish? What availeth it the valiant captain, to talk much of war: and afterwards he knoweth not how to give the battle? What availeth it the guide, to tell the nearest way: and afterwards in the midst to lose himself.  
All this which I have spoken, is said for thee my Lord. For what availeth it that thou being in health, shouldst sigh for death: since now when he doth approach, thou weepest because thou would not leave life? One of the things wherein the wise man showeth his wisdom, is to know how to love, and how to hate. For it is great lightness (I should rather say folly) to day to love him, whom yesterday we hated: and to morrow to slander him whom this day we honoured. What Prince so high, or what Plebeian so base hath there been, or in the world shall ever be, the which hath so little (as thou) regarded life: and so highly commended death? What things have I written (being thy Secretary) with my own hand, to divers provinces of the world: where thou speakest so much good of death, that sometimes thou madest me to hate life? What was it to see that letter which thou wrotest to the noble roman Claudines widow, comforting her of the death of her husband, which died in the wars? Wherein she answered: That she thought her trouble comfort, to deserve that thou shooldst write her such a letter.  
What a pitiful and savoury letter hast thou written to Antigonus, on the death of thy child Verissimus thy son so much desired? Whose death thou tookest so, that thou exceedest the limits of philosophy: but in the end, with thy princely virtues, thou didst qualify thy woeful sorrows. What sentences so profound, what words so well couched didst thou write in that book entituled The remedy of the sorrowful. the which thou didst send from the war of Asia, to the Senators of Rome: and that was to comfort them after a sore plague. And how much profit hath thy doctrine done since? with what new kind of consolation hast thou comforted Helius Fabatus the Sensour, when his son was drowned in the river? where I do remember, that when we entered into his house, we found him weeping: and when we went from thence, we left him laughing. I do remember, that when thou went'st to visit Gneus Rusticus in his last disease, thou spakest unto him so effectuously, that with the vehemency of thy words, thou madest the tears to run down his cheeks. And I demanding him the occasions of his lamentations, he said. The emperor my lord hath told me so much evils that I have won, and of so much good that I have lost, that if I weep, I weep not for life which is short, but for death which is long. The man whom above all thou hast loved, was Torquatus, whom thou didst obey as thy father, and servedst as thy master. This thy faithful friend being ready to die, and desiring yet to live, thou send'st to offer sacrifices to the gods, not for that they should grant him life: but that they should hasten his death. Herewith I being astonished, thy nobleness to satisfy my ignorance, said unto me in secret these words.  
Marvel not Panutius, to see me offer sacrifices to hasten my friends death: and not to prolong his life. For there is nothing that the faithful friend ought so much to desire to his true friend: as to see him rid from the travels of this earth, and to enjoy the pleasures of heaven. Why thinkest thou most noble prince, that I reduce all these things to thy memory, but for to demand thee how it is possible, that I which have hard thee speak so well of death, do presently see thee so unwilling to leave life? since the gods command it, thy age willeth it, thy disease doth cause it, thy feeble nature doth permit it, the sinful Rome doth deserve it, and the fickle fortune agreeth, that for our great misery thou shouldst die. Why therefore sighest thou so much for to die? The travels which of necessity must needs come, with stout heart ought to be received. The cowardly heart falleth before he is beaten down: but the stout and valiant stomach in greatest peril, recovereth most strength. Thou art one man, and not two, thou oughtest one death to the gods, and not two: why wilt thou therefore being but one, pay for two? and for one only life, take two deaths?  
I mean that before thou endest life, thou diest for pure sorrow. After that thou hast sailed, and in the sailing thou hast passed such peril, when the gods do render thee in the safe haven, once again thou wilt run in to the raging sea, where thou scapest the victory of life, and thou diest with the ambushements of death. Lxii years hast thou fought in the field, and never turned thy back: and fearest thou now being enclosed in the grave? hast thou not passed the pikes, and briars, wherein thou hast been enclosed: and now thou tremblest, being in the sure way? Thou knowest what damage it is long to live, and now thou doutest of the profit of death which ensueth. It is now many years, since death and thou have been at defiance, as mortal enemies: and now to lay thy hands on thy weapons, thou fliest and turnest thy back. Lxii years are past, since thou were bend against fortune: and now thou closest thy eyes, when thou oughtest over her to triumph. By that I have told thee I mean, that since we do not see thee take death willingly at this present: we do suspect that thy life hath not in times past been very good. For the man which hath no desire to appear before the gods: it is a token he is laden with vices. What meanest thou, most noble prince, why weepest thou as an infant, and complainest as a man in despair? If thou weepest because thou diest, I answer thee, that thou laughedst as much when thou livedst. For of too much laughing in the life, proceedeth much wailing at the death. Who hath always for his heritage, appropriated the places being in the common wealth? The unconstancy of the mind, who shallbe so hardy to make steady? I mean that all are dead, all die, and all shall die: and among all wilt thou alone live? Wilt thou obtain of the gods, that which maketh them gods? That is to weet, that they make thee immortal, as themselves? Wilt thou alone have by privilege, that which the gods have by nature? My youth demandeth thy age what thing is best, or to say better, which is less evil: to die well, or to live evil. I doubt that any man may attain to the means to live well, according to the continual & variable troubles which daily we have accustomed to carry between our hands, always suffering hunger, cold, thirst, care, displeasures, temptations, persecutions, evil fortunes, overthrows, and diseases.  
This cannot be called life, but a long death: and with reason we will call this life death, since a thousand times we hate life. If an ancient man did make a show of his life, from time he is come out of the entrails of his mother, until the time he entereth into the bowels of the earth, and that the body would declare all the sorrows that he hath passed, and the heart discover all the overthrows of fortune, which he hath suffered: I immagin the gods would marvel, and men would wonder at the body which hath endured so much, and the heart which hath so greatly dissembled.  
I take the Greeks to be more wise, which weep when their children be borne, and laugh when the aged die: then the romans which sing when the children are borne, and weep when the old men die. We have much reason to laugh, when the old men die, since they die to laugh: and with greater reason we ought to weep, when the children are borne, since they are borne to weep.   

¶ Pannatius the secretary continueth his exhortation admonishing all men willingly to accept death, and utterly to forsake the world and all his vanities. Cap. li.  
sin's life is now condemned for evil, there remaineth nought else, but to approve death to be good. O if it pleased the immortal gods, that as I oftentimes have hard the disputations of this matter: so now that thou cooldst therewith profit. But I am sorry that to the sage, and wise man, counsel sometimes (or for the most part) wanteth. None ought to cleave so much to his own opinion, but sometimes he should follow the counsel of the third parson. For the man which in all things will follow his own advise, ought well to be assured, that in all, or the most part, he shall err. O my lord Mark, sith thou art sage, lively of spirit, of great experience and ancient, didst not thou think, that as thou hadst buried many, so like wise some should bury thee? What imaginations were thine to think, that seeing the end of their days, others should not see the end of thy years? Since thou diest rich, honourably accompanied, old, and above all, seeing thou diest in the service of the common wealth, why fearest thou to enter into thy grave? Thou hast always been a friend as much to know things past: as those which were hid and kept secret. Sins thou hast proved what honours, and dishonours do deserve, riches and poverty, prosperity and adversity, joy and sorrow, love and fear, vices & pleasures: me seemeth that nothing remaineth to know, but that it is necessary to know what death is. And also I swear unto thee (most noble lord) that thou shalt learn more in one hour, what death is: then in a hundredth years what life meaneth. Since thou art good, and presumest to be good, and hast lived as good, is it not better that thou die, & go with so many good: then that thou scape, and live amongst so many evil? That thou feelest death, I marvel nothing at all, for thou art a man: but I do marvel that thou dissemblest it not, since thou art discrete. Many things do the sage men feel, which inwardly do oppress their heart: but outwardly they dissemble them, for the more honour. If all the poison which in the sorrowful heart is wrapped, were in small pieces in the feeble flesh scattered: then the walls would not suffice to rub, neither the nails to scratch us. What other thing is death, but a trap or door where with to shut the shop, wherein all the miseries of this woeful life are vendible? What wrong or prejudice do the gods unto us, when they call us before them: but from an old decayed house, to change us to a new builded palace? And what other thing is the grave, but a strong fort, wherein we shut ourselves from the assaults of life, & broils of fortune? Truly, we ought to be more desirous of that we find in death, then of that we leave in life. If Helia Fabricia thy wife do grieve thee, for that thou leavest her young, do not care. For she presently hath little care of the peril, wherein thy life dependeth. And in the end, when she shall know of thy death, she will be nothing grieved. Trouble not thyself for that she is left widow. For young women (as she is) which are married with old men (as thou) when their husbands die: they have their eyes on that they can rob, and their hearts on them whom they desire to marry. And speaking with due respect, when with their eyes they outwardly seem most for to beewaile: then with their hearts inwardly do they most rejoice. deceive not thyself in thinking that the empress thy wife is young, and that she shall find none other Emperor with whom again she may marry. For such, and the like, will change the cloth of gold, for gowns of skins. I mean, that they would rather the young shepherd in the field: then the old emperor in his royal palace. If thou takest sorrow for the children whom thou leavest, I know not why thou shooldst do so? For truly if it grieve thee now, for that thou diest: they are more displeased, for that thou livest. The son that desireth not the death of his father, may be counted the only Phoenix of this world, for if the father be poor, he wisheth him dead for that he is not maintained, & if he be rich, he desireth his death to inherit the sooner. Sins therefore it is true (as in deed it is) it seemeth not wisdom that they sing, & thou weep. If it grieve thee to leave these goodly palaces, & these sumptuous buildings, deceive not thyself therein. For by the god jupiter I swear unto thee, that since that death doth finish thee, at the end of lxii years: time shall consume these sumptuous buildings in less than xl. If it grieve thee to forsake the company of thy friends, & neighbours, for them also take as little thought, sins for thee they will not take any at all. For amongst the other compassions that they ought to have of the dead, this is true, that scarcely they are buried, but of their friends & neighbours they are forgotten. If thou takest great thought for that thou wilt not die, as the other emperors of Rome are dead: me seemeth that thou oughtest also to cast this sorrow from thee. For thou know'st right well, that Rome hath accustomed to be so unthankful to those which serve her: that the great Scipio also, would not be buried therein. If it grieve thee to die, to leave so great a signory, as to leave the empire: I can not think that such vanity be in thy head. For temperate, & reposed men, when they escape from semblable offices, do not think that they lose honour: but that they be free, of a troublesome charge. Therefore if none of all these things move thee to desire life, what should let thee that through thy gates enter not death? it grieveth men to die for one of these two things, either for the love of those they leave beehynd them, or for the fear of that they hope. Sins therefore there is nothing in this life worthy of love, nor any things in death why we should fear: why do men fear to die? According to the heavy sighs thou fetchest, the bitter tears thou she dost, & according also to the great pain thou showest, for my part I think: that the thing in thy thought most forgotten was, that the gods should command thee to pay this debt. For admit that all think that their life shall end, yet no man thinketh that death will come so soon. For that men think never to die, they never beeginne their faults to amend: so that both life & fault have end in the grave togethers. Know'st not thou (most noble prince) that after the long night, cometh the moist morning? Dost thou not know that after the moist morning, there cometh that clear sun? Know'st not thou, that after the clear sun, cometh the cloudy element? Dost thou not know, that after the dark mist, there cometh extreme heat? And that after the heat, cometh the horrible thunders? & after the thunders, the sudden lightnings? & that after the perilous lightnings, cometh the terrible hail? Finally I say, that after the tempestuous & troublesome time, commonly cometh clear & fair weather. The order that time hath, to make himself cruel, & gentle: the self same ought men to have to live & die. For after the infancy, cometh childhood, after childhood cometh youth, after youth cometh age, & after age, cometh the fearful death: Finally after the fearful death, cometh the sure life. Oftentimes I have read, & of thee not seldom hard, that the gods only which had no beginning, shall have also no ending. Therefore me thinketh (most noble prince) that sage men ought not to desire to live long: For men which desire to live much, either it is for that they have not felt the travails past, because they have been fools: or for that they desire more time, to give themselves to vices. Thou mightst not complain of that, sins they have not cut thee in the flower of the herb, nor taken thee green from the tree, nor cut in thee in the spring tide, and much less eat the eager, before thou were ripe. By that I have spoken, I mean, if death had called thee when thy life was sweetest: though thou hadst not had reason to have complained, yet thou mightst have desired to have altered it. For it is a great grief, to say unto a young man that he must die, and forsake the world. What is this (my lord) now that the wall is decayed ready to fall, the flower is withered, the grape doth rot, the teeth are lose, the gown is worn, the lance is blunt the knife is dull, and dost thou desire to return into the world, as if thou hadst never known the world? These lxii. years thou hast lived in the prison of this body, & wilt thou, now the iron fetters have rot thy legs, desire yet to length thy days, in this so woeful prison? They that will not be contented to live lx. years & five in this death, or to die in this life: will not desire to die in lx. thousand years. The Emperor Augustus octavian said. That after men had lived l years, either of their own will they ought to die: or else by force they should cause themselves to be killed. For at that time, all those which have had any human felicity, are at the best. Those which live above that age, pass their days in grievous torments. As in the death of children, in the loss of goods, & importunity of son in laws, in maintaining processes, in discharging debts, in sighing for that is past, in bewailing that that is present, in dissembling injuries, in hearing woeful news, & in other infinite travails. So that it were much better, to have their eyes shut in the grave: then their hearts & bodies alive, to suffer so much in this miserable life. He whom the gods take from this miserable life at the end of 50. years, is quited from all these miseries of life. For after that time he is not weak, but crooked, he goeth not, but rouleth, he stumbleth not but falleth. O my lord Mark, knowest thou not, that by the same way whereby goeth death, death cometh? Know'st not thou in like manner, that it is 52. years that life hath fled from death: and that there is an other time as much, that death goeth seeking thy life? and death going from Illiria where he left a great plague, and thou departing from thy palace ye ii now have met in Hungary? know'st not thou, that where thou leapedst out of thy mother's entrails to govern the land, immediately death leapt out of his grave to seek thy life? Thou hast always presumed, not only to be honoured: but also to be honourable, if it be so, since thou honoredst the ambassadors of Princes which did send them the more for their profit, then for thy service, why dost thou not honour thy messenger, whom the gods send more for thy profit, then for their services? Dost thou not remember well, when Vulcan my son in law poisoned me, more for the covetousness of my goods, than any desire he had of my life? thou lord didst come to comfort me in my chamber, and toldst me that the gods were cruel to slay the young: and were pitiful to take the old from this world. And thou saidst further these words. Comfort thee Panutius: For if thou were born to die, now thou diest to live. Sins therefore (noble prince) that I tell thee that which thou toldst me, and counsel thee the same which thou counsayledst me: I render to thee that which thou hast geeven me. Finally, of these vines I have gathered these clusters of grapes.   

¶ The answer of the emperor Marcus to Panutius his secretory, wherein he declareth that he took no thought to forsake the world: but all his sorrow was to leave beehynd him an unhappy child to enheryt the Empire. Cap. lij.  
PAnutius blessed be the milk thou hast sucked in Dacia, the bread which thou hast eaten in Rome, the learning which thou hast learned in Greece & the bringing up which thou hast had in my palace. For thou hast served as a good servant in life: and givest me counsel as a trusty friend at death. I command Commodus my son to recompense thy service, and I beseech the immortal gods, that they acquit thy good counsels. And not without good cause I charge my son with the one, and require the gods of the other. For the payment of many services, one man alone may do: but to pay one good counsel, it is requisyt to have all the gods. The greatest good that a friend can do to his friend, is in great & weighty affairs, to give him good and wholesome counsel. And not without cause I say wholesome. For commonly it chanceth, that those which think with their counsel to remedy us: do put us oftentimes in greatest perils. All the travails of life are hard: but that of death is the most hard and terrible. All are great, but this is the greatest. All are perilous, but this is most perilous. All in death have end except the travail of death, whereof we know no end. That which I say now, no man perfectly can know: but only he which seeth himself, as I see myself now at the point of death. Certainly Panutius, thou hast spoken unto me as a wise man: but for that thou know'st not my grief, thou couldst not cure my disease, for my sore is not there, where thou hast laid the plaster. The fistula is not there where thou hast cut the flesh. The oppilation is not there, where thou hast laid the ointments. There were not the right vains, where thou didst let me blood. Thou hast not yet touched the wound, which is the cause of all my grief. I mean that thou oughtest to have entered further with me, to have known my grief better. The sighs which the heart fetcheth (I say those which come from the heart) let not every man think which heareth them, that he can immediately understand them. For as men can not remedy the anguishs of the spirit: so the gods likewise would not that they should know the secrets of the heart. Without fear or shame many dare say, that they know the thought of others, wherein they show themselves to be more fools, then wise. For since there are many things in me, wherein I myself doubt: how can a stranger have any certain knowledge therein? Thou accusest me Panutius, that I fear death greatly, the which I deny: but to fear it as man, I do confess. For to deny that I fear not death, should be to deny that I am not of flesh. We see by experience, that the elephants do fear the Lion, the Bear the Elephant, the wolf the Bear, the lamb the wolf, the rat the cat, the cat the dog, and the dog the man: finally the one and the other do fear for no other thing, but for fear that one killeth not the other. Then since brute beasts refuse death, the which though they die, fear not to fight with the furies, nor hope not to rest with the gods: so much the more ought we to fear death, which die in doubt, whither the furies will tear us in pieces with their torments, or the gods will receive us into their houses with joy. Thinkest thou Panutius, that I do not see well that my vine is gathered, and that it is not hid unto me, that my palace falleth in decay? I know well, that I have not but the kernel of the raisin, and the skin: and that I have not but one sigh of all my life, until this time. There was great difference between me and thee: and now there is great difference beetwixt me and myself. For about the ensign, thou dost place the army. In the rivers, thou castest thy nets, within the parks, thou huntest the bulls. In the shadow thou takest cold. By this I mean, that thou talkest so much of death: because that thou art sure of thy life. O miserable man that I am, for in short space, of all that in this life I have possessed: with me I shall carry nothing, but only my winding sheet. Alas now shall I enter into the field, not where of the fierce beasts I shallbe assaulted: but of the hungry worms devoured. Alas I see myself in that distress, from whence my frail flesh cannot escape. And if any hope remain, it is in thee o death. When I am sick, I would not that he that is whole should comfort me. When I am sorrowful, I would not that he which is merry should comfort me. When I am banished I would not that he which is in prosperity should comfort me. When I am at the hour of death, I would not that he should comfort me, which is not in some suspicion of life. But I would that the poor should comfort me in my poverty, the sorrowful in my sorrows, the banished in my banishment, and he which is in as great danger of his life, as I am now at the point of death. For there is no counsel so healthful, nor true: as that of the man which is in sorrow, when he counseleth an other, which is likewise tormented himself. If thou considerest well this sentence, thou shalt find that I have spoken a thing very profound, wherein notwithstanding my tongue is appeased. For in my opinion evil shall he be comforted, which is weeping with him, that continually laugheth. I say this to the end thou know, that I know it: and that thou perceive that I perceive it. And because thou shalt not live deceived, as to my friend I will disclose the secret: and thou shalt see, that small is the sorrow which I have, in respect of the great, which I have cause to have. For if reason had not strived with sensuality, the sighs had ended my life, and in a pond of tears, they had made my grave. The things which in me thou hast seen, which are to abhor meat, to banish sleep, to love care, to be annoyed with company, to take rest in sighs, & to take pleasure in tears: may easily declare unto thee, what torment is in the sea of my heart, when such tremblings do appear in the earth of my body. Let us now come to the purpose, and we shall see, why my body is without consolation, and my heart so overcome with sorrows: for my feeling, greatly exceedeth my complaining, because the body is so delycat, that in scratching it, it complaineth: and the heart is so stout and valiant, that though it be hurt, yet it dissembleth. O Panutius, I let thee weete, that the occasion why I take death so grievously, is because I leave my son Commodus in this life: who liveth in this age most perilous for him, and no less dangerous for the Empire. By the flowers are the fruits known, by the grapes the vines are known, and by the face men are known: by the colt the horse is judged, and by the infant, youth is known.  
This I say by the Prince my son, for that he hath been evil in my life, I do imagine that he will be worse after my death. Since thou (as well as I) know'st the evil conditions of my son, why dost thou marvel at the thoughts and sorrows of the father? My son Commodus in years is young, and in understanding younger. He hath an evil inclination, and yet he will not enforce himself against the same, he governeth himself by his own sense, and in matters of wisdom he knoweth little: of that he should be ignorant, he knoweth too much: and that which is worst of all, he is of no man esteemed. He knoweth nothing of things past, nor occupieth him about any thing present. Finally, for that which with mine eyes I have seen, I say, and that which with in my heart I have suspected I judge: that shortly the person of my son shallbe in hazard, and the memory of his father perish. O how unkindly have the Gods used themselves toward us, to command us to leave our honour in the hands of our children? for it should suffice, that we should leave them our goods: and that to our friends we should commit our honour. But yet I am sorry, for that they consume the goods in vices: and lose the honour, for to be vicious. The gods being pitiful as they are, since they give us the authority to divide our goods: why do they not give us leave, to make our wills of the honour? My sons name being Commodus, in the roman tongue, is as much to say, as profit: but as he is, we will be content to be without the little profit, which he may do to some, so that we may be excused of the great damage, which he is likely to do to all. For I suppose he will be the scourge of men, and the wrath of Gods. He entereth now into the pathway of youth, alone without a guide. And for that he hath to pass, by the high and dangerous places: I fear lest he be lost, in the wood of vices. For the children of Princes, and great Lords, for so much as they are brought up in liberty, & wantonness, do easily fall into vices, and voluptuousness: and are most stubborn to be withdrawn from their folly. O Panutius, give attentive ear to that I say unto thee. Seest thou not, that Commodus my son is at liberty, is rich, is young, and is alone? By the faith of a good man, I swear unto thee, that the least of these wynds would overthrow, not only a young tender ash: but also a mighty strong oak. riches, youth, pride, and liberty, are four plagues which poison the prince, replenish the common wealth with filth, kill, the living, and defame the dead. Let the old men believe me, and the young men mark well what I say, that where the gods have geeven many gifts: it is necessary they have many virtues to sustain them. The gentle, the peaceable the counterfeit, the simple, and the fearful, do not trouble the common wealth: but those whom nature hath geeven most gifts. For as experience teacheth us, with the fairest women the stews are furnished, the most proper personages are unshamefast, the most stout and valiant are murderers, the most subtle are thieves, and men of clearest understanding, oft times become most fools. I say and say again. I affirm, and affirm again, I swear, and swear again, that if two men which are adorned with natural gifts, do want requisyt virtues: such have a knife in their hands, wherewith they do strike and wound themselves, a fire on their shoulders wherewith they burn themselves, a rope at their necks to hang themselves, a dagger at their breast wherewith they kill themselves, a thorn in their foot wherewith they prick themselves, and stones whereat they stumble: so that stumbling they fall, and falling they find themselves with death whom they hate, and without life which so much they loved. Note well Panutius, note, that the man which from his infancy hath always the fear of the gods before his eyes, and the shame of men, sayeth troth to all, and liveth in prejudice to none: and to such a tree, though evil fortune do cleave, the flower of his youth do whither, the leaves of their favours dry, they gather the fruits of his travails, they cut the bough of his offices, they bow the highest of his branches downwards, yet in the end, though of the winds he be beaten, he shall never be overcome, O happy are those fathers, to whom the Gods have geeven quick children, wise, fair, able, light, and valiant: but all these gifts are but means to make them vicious. And in such case, if the fathers would be governed by my counsel, I would rather desire that members should want in them: then that vices should abound. Of the most fairest children which are born in the Empire, my son Commodus the Prince is one. But I would to the immortal gods, that in face he resemble the blackest of Ethiope: & in manners, the greatest philosopher of Greece. For the glory of the father is not, nor ought not to be, in that his child is fair of complexion, and handsome of person: but that in his life he be very upright. We will not call him a pitiful father, but a great enemy, who exalteth forth his child, for that he is fair: and doth not correct him, though he be vicious. I durst say, that the father which hath a child endued with many goodly gifts, and that he doth employ them all to vices: such a child ought not to be born in the world, and if perchance he were born, he ought immediately to be buried.   

¶ The Emperor Marcus Aurelius concludeth his matter, and showeth that sundry young princes for being vicious, have undone themselves, and impoverished their Realms. Cap. liij.  
O What great pity is it, to see how the father buyeth his child of the gods with sighs, how the mother deliver them with pain, how they both nourish them with travails, how they watch to sustain them, how they labour to remedy them, and afterwards they have so rebelled, and be so vicious that the miserable fathers oftentimes do die not for age, but for the grieves wherewith their children torment them. I do remember, that the prince Commodꝰ my son being young, & I aged (as I am) with great pains we kept him from vices: but I fear, that after my death he will hate virtues. I remember many young princes, which of his age have enherited th'empire of Rome, who have been of so wicked a life: that they have deserved to lose both honour, and life. I remember Dennis the famous tyrant of Scicil, of whom is said, that as great reward he gave to those that invented vices: as our mother Rome did to those which conquered realms. Such work could not be but of a Tyrant, to take them for most familiar, which are most vicious. I remember four young princes, which governed the empire, but not with such valiantness, as the great Alexander: that is to weet, Alexander, Antiochus, Silvius, and Ptholomeus, to whom for their vanity and lightness, as they called Alexander the great, Emperor in Greece: so likewise do they call these young men, tyrants in Asia. Very happy was Alexander in life, & they unhappy after his death. For all that which with glorious triumphs he wan, with vile vices they lost. So that Alexander divided between them four the world, and afterwards it came into the hands of more than four hundredth. I do remember, that king Antigonus little exteemed that, which cost his lord Alexander much. He was so light in the beehavior of his person, and so defamed in the affairs of the common wealth: that for mockery and contempt, in the steed of a crown of gold, he bore a garland, in the steed of a sceptre, he carried neitels in his hand, & of this sort and manner he sat to judge among his counsellors, and used to talk with strangers. This young prince doth offend me much, for the lightness he committed: but much more I marvel at the gravity of the sages of Greece, which suffered him. It is but meet he be partaker of the pain, which condescended to the fault. I do remember Calligulus the fourth Emperor of Rome, who was so young and foolish, that I doubt of these two things, which was greatest in his time. That is to weet, the disobedience which the people bear to their lord: or the hate which the lord bear to his people. For that unhappy creature was so dysordered in his manners, that if all the romans had not watched to take life from him: he would have watched to take life from them. This Caligula ware a brooch of gold in his cap, where in were written these words. utinam omnis populus unam precise ceruicem haberet, ut uno ictu omnes necarem. Which is to say: would to god all the people had but one neck, to the end I might kill them all at a stroke. I remember the Emperor Tiberius, thadoptive son of the good Cesar Augustus, which was called Augustus, because he greatly augmented the empire. But the good Emperor did not so much augment the state of his common wealth, during his life: as Tiberius did dymynish it, after his death. The hate and malice which the roman people bare to Tiberius in his life, was manifestly discovered after the time of his death. For the day that Tiberius died (or better to say, when they killed him) the roman people made great processions, and the Senators offered great presents to the Temples, and the priests gave great sacrifices to their Gods: and all to the end their Gods should not receive the soul of this tyrant amongst them, but that they would send it to be kept among the furies of hell. I remember Patrocles (second king of Corinthe) inheryted the realm at two & twenty years of his age, who was so dysordered of his flesh, so undyscreete in his doings, so covetous of goods, and such a coward of his person, that where his father had possessed the realm forty years, the son did not possess it thirty months. I remember Tarquin the proud, who though among eight knights of Rome was the last, and comeliest of gesture, valiant in arms, noblest of blood, and in giving most liberal: yet he employed all his gifts and graces which the Gods had geeven him, evil. For he employed his beauty to riot, and his forces to tyranny. For through the treason, and villainy, which he committed with the roman Lucretia, he did not only lose the realm, and flying saved his life: but also for ever was banished, and all his lineage likewise. I remember the cruel emperor Nero, who lived, enherited, and died young: and not without a cause I say, that he lived, and died young. For in him was graffed the stock of the noble and worthy Caesar's: and in him was renewed, the memory of those Tyrants. To whom thinkest thou Panutius, this tyrant would have geeven life, since he with his own hands gave his mother her death? Tell me I pray thee, who thinkest thou hath made that cursed heart, who slew his mother, out of whose womb he came? opened her breasts, which gave him suck? shed the blood, whereof he was born? tore the arms in which he was carried? & saw the entrails, wherein he was form? The day that the emperor Nero slew his mother, an orator said in the senate.  
jure interficienda erat Agrippina que tale portentum peperit in populo romano. Which is to say, justly deserved Agrippina to be put to death, which brought forth so strange a monster amongst the roman people.  
Thou oughtest not therefore to marvel (Panutius) at the novelties which thou hast seen in me: for in these three days that I have been troubled in my mind, and altered in my understanding, all these things are offered unto me, and from the bottom of my heart I have digested them. For the careful men are not blinded, but with their own imaginations. All these evil conditions which these Princes had scattered amongst them (of whom I have spoken) do meet togethers in my son Commodus.  
For if they were young, he is young. If they were rich, he is rich. If they were free, he is free. If they were bold, he is bold. If they were wild, he is wild. If they were evil, certainly I do not think that he is good. For we see many young princes, which have been well brought up, and well taught: yet when they have inherited, and come to their lands, they become immediately vicious, and dissolute. What hope have we of those, which from their infancy are dissolute and evil inclined? of good wine, I have made oft times strong vinegar: but of pure vinegar, I have never seen good wine. This child keepeth me, between the sails of fear, & the anchor of hope: hoping he shall be good, since I have taught him well, & fearing he shallbe evil, because his mother Faustine hath nourished him evil. And that which is the worst, that the young child of his own nature is inclined to all evil. I am moved to say this much, for that I see his natural inclination increase: and that which was taught him dimynish, for the which occasion, I doubt that after my death, my son shall return to that, wherein his mother hath nourished him: & not to that, wherein I have taught him. O how happy had I been, if never I had had child, for not to be bound to leave him th'empire: for I would chose then, among the children of the good fathers: & would not be bound to such a one, whom the gods have geeven me. One thing I ask thee Panutius, whom would thou call most fortunate? Vespasian, which was natural father of Domitius, or Nerua, the adopted father of the good Trajan? both those two (Vespasian, & Nerua) were good princes, but of children. Domitian was the head of all mischief: & Trajan was the mirror of all goodness. So that Vespasian in that he had children, was unhappy: & Nerua in that he had none, was most fortunate. One thing I will tell thee Panutius, the which by thee considered, thou wilt little esteem life, and shalt lose the fear of death. I have lived lxii. years, wherein I have read much, hard much, seen, desired, attained, possessed, suffered & I have much rejoiced myself. And in the end of all this, I see myself now to die, and I must want my pleasures, and myself also. Of all that I have had, possessed, attained, & whereof I have enjoyed, I have only two things: to weet, pain for that I have offended the gods, and sorrow for the time which I have wasted in vices. There is great difference between the rich and the poor in death, and more in life. For the poor dieth to rest, but if the rich die it is to their great pain. So that the gods take from the one, that which he had: & putteth the other in possession, of that he desired. Great care hath the heart to seek the goods, and they pass great troubles to heap up them togethers, and great diligence must be had in keeping them, and also much wit to increase them: but without comparison, it is greater grief to departed from them. O what pain intolerable and grief it is to the wise man, seeing himself at the point of death, to leave the sweat of his family, the majesty of his empire, the honour of his present, the love of his friends, the payment of his debts, the deserts of his servants, and the memory of his predecessors, in the power of so evil a child, the which neither deserveth it, nor yet will deserve it. In their table of our ancient laws, were written these words. We ordain and command, that the father which shall be good according to the opinion of all, may disheryt his son, who according to the opinion of all is evil. The law said further. The child which hath disobeyed his father, rob any holy Temple, injuried any widow, fled from any battle, and committed any treason to a stranger, that he should be banished from Rome, and dysenherited from his father's goods. Truly the law was good, though by our offences it be forgotten. If my breath failed me not as it doth fail me (for of troth I am greatly pained) I would declare unto thee how many Parthes', Medians, Egyptians, Assyrians, Chaldeans, Indians, hebrews, Greeks, and Romans, have left their children poor being able to have left them rich, for no other cause, but for that they were vicious. And to the contrary, other being poor, have left them rich, for that they were virtuous. By the immortal Gods I swear unto thee, that when they came from the war of Parthia, & triumphed in Rome, & confirmed the Empire to my son, if then these not not had not withstood me, I had left Commodus my son poor with his vices: and would have made heir of all my realms, some virtuous man. I let thee to weete Panutius, that five things oppress my heart sore, to the which I would rather see remedy myself, then to command other to remedy it.  
The first, for that in my life time I can not determine the process, that the virtuous widow, Drusia hath with the senate. Because since she is poor, and deformed, there is no man that will give her justice. The second, because I die not in Rome. And this for none other cause, then that with the sound of the trumpet should be proclaimed, that all those which have any quarrel, or debt against me, and my family, should come thither to be paid, or satisfied of their debts, and demands. The third, that as I made four tyrants to be put to execution, which committed tyranny in Asia and Italy: so it grieved me that I have not also punished certain Pirates, which roved on the seas. The fourth, for that I have not caused the Temple to be finished which I did beegynne for all the gods. For I might have said unto them after my death, that since for all them I have made one house: it were not much that any of them should receive one into his, which pass this life in the favour of gods, and without the hatred of men. For dying after this sort, men shall susteyn our honours: and the gods shall provide for our souls.  
The fifth, for that I leave in life for my only heir, Commodus the prince, yet not so much for the destruction which shall come to my house: as for the great damage which shall succeed in the common wealth. For the true princes ought to take the damages of their persons light, and the damages of the common wealth for the most grievous. O Panutius, let therefore this be the last word which I will say unto thee, that is to weet, that the greatest good that the Gods may give to the man that is not covetous, but virtuous, is to give him good renown in life: and afterwards a good heir at our death. Finally I say, that if I have anything to do with the gods, I require, and beseech them, that if they should be offended, Rome slandered, my renown defamed, and my house demynished, for that my son be of an evil life: that they will take from him life, before they give me death.   

¶ Of the words which the Emperor Marcus Aurelius spoke unto his son Commodus at the hour of death, necessary for all young gentlemen to understand. Cap. liiij.  
SInce the disease of Marcus Aurelius was so extreme, that in every hour of his life he was assaulted with death: after he had talked a long time with Panutius his secretary, he commanded his son Commodus to be wakened, who as a young man slept sound in his bed. And being come before his presence, all those which were there, were moved immediately with compassion, to see the eyes of the father all swollen with weeping: and the eyes of the child, closed with overmuch sleep. They could not waken the child, he was so careless: and they could not cause the goodfather sleep, he took so great thought. All those which were there, seeing how the father desired the good life of the son, and how little the son weighed the death of his father: had compassion of the old man, and bare hate to the wicked child. Then the good Emperor casting his eyes on high, and directing his words to his son said. When thou were a child, I told thy masters how they ought to bring thee up: & after that thou didst wax greater, I told thy governors how they should counsel thee: And now will I tell thee, how thou with them which are few, and they with thee, being one, aught to govern and maintain the common wealth. If thou esteem much that which I will say unto thee my son: know thou, that I will esteem it much more that thou wilt believe me. For more easily do we old men, suffer your injuries: than ye other young, do receive our counsels. Wisdom wanteth to you for to believe us, yet ye want not boldness to dishonour us. And that which is worst, the aged (in Rome) were wont to have a chair of wisdom, and sageness: but now a days the young men count it a shame and folly. The world at this day is so changed, from that it was wont to be in times past: that all have the audacity to give counsel, and few have the wisdom to receive it, so that they are a thowsaund, which sell counsels: & there is not one, that buyeth wisdom. I believe well my son, that according to my fatal destinies, & thy evil manners, little shall that avail which I shall tell thee. For since thou would not credit these words, which I spoke unto thee in my life: I am sure that thou wilt little regard them after my death. But I do this more to satisfy my desire, and to accomplish that which I own unto the common wealth: than for that I hope for any amendment of thy life. For there is no grief that so much hurteth a person, as when he himself is cause of his own pain. If any man doth me an injury, if I lay my hands upon him, or speak injurious words unto him, my heart is forthwith satisfied: but if I do injury to myself, I am he which wrongeth, & am wronged, for that I have none on whom I may revenge my wrong, and I vex & chafe with myself. If thou my son be evil, after that thou hast enheryted the empire: my mother Rome will complain of the gods, which have geeven thee so many evil inclinations. She will complain of Faustine thy mother which hath brought thee up so wanton, she will complain of thee which haste no will to resist vice: but she shall have no cause to complain of the old man thy father, who hath not geeven thee good counsels. For if thou hadst believed that, which I told thee: men would rejoice to have thee for their lord, and the gods to use thee as their minister. I cannot tell my son if I be deceived, but I see thee so deprived of understanding, so uncertain in thy words, so dissolute in thy manners, so unjust in justice, in that thou desirest so hardy, & in thy duty so negligent: that if thou change & altar not thy manners, men will hate thee, and the gods will forsake thee. O if thou knewst my son what thing it is to have men for enemies, and to be forsaken of the gods, by the faith of a good man I swear unto thee, that thou would not only hate the signory of Rome, but with thy hands also thou would destroy thyself. For men which have not the gods merciful, and the men friendly, do eat the bread of grief, and drink the tears of sorrow. I am sure thy sorrow is not so great to see that the night doth end my life: as is the pleasure which thou hast, to see that in short space thou shalt be emperor of Rome. And I do not marvel hereat. For where sensuality reigneth, reason is banished & constrained to fly. Many love divers things, because of troth they know them not: the which if they did know, without doubt they would hate them. Though men love in mockery, the gods & men hate us in earnest. In all things we are so doubtful, and in all our works so dysordered, that at some time our understanding is dull, and loseth the edge: & an other time, it is more sharp than it is necessary. Thereby I mean, that the good we will not here, and much less we will learn it, but of the evil we know, more than behoveth us, or necessity requireth. I will counsel thee my son by words, that which in lxii. years I have learned by science and experience. And since thou art as yet so young, it is reason that thou believe him which is aged. For since we princes are the mirror of all, every man doth behold us, & we other do not behold ourselves. This day, or to morrow, thou shalt inherit the Romain empire, & think that inheriting the same, thou shalt be lord of the world. Yet if thou knewst how many cares and perils, commanding bringeth with it, I swear unto thee, that thou would rather choose to obey all, then to command one. Thou thinkest my son, that I leave thee a great lord, for to leave thee the empire, which is not so. For all they have need but of thee, and thou alone hast need of all. Thou thinkest that I leave thee much treasure, leaving thee the great revenues of the empire, the which also is as little. For though a prince have treasures in abundance, yet if he want friends, he hath great want of treasures. Thou thinkest also my son, that I leave thee that thou be obeyed of all, and that none dare gain say thee.  
Truly it ought not to be so. For it is more meet for the prince (which desireth to preserve his life, and augment his honour) to be conformable to the will of all: then to desire that all should be agreeable to him. For thou my son, that knowest not what truth is, lies will not grieve thee. For as much as thou knowest not what rest is, the broils and motions of the people shall not vex thee. For that thou knowest not what friends mean, thou shalt esteem it little to have enemies. For if thou were patient, reposed, true, & a loving man: thou wouldst not only refuse the empire of Rome, but also the would curse the father which would leave thee such inheritance. I will thou know if thou knowest it not, that in leaving thee the empire, I leave thee not riches, but poverty: not rest, but travail: not peace, but war: not friends, but enemies: not pleasures but displeasures: finally in place I leave thee, where always thou shalt have somewhat to beewayle. And though thou wouldst, thou shalt not laugh. I advertise, admonish, and also exhort thee my son, to think that all that which I leave thee, is vanity, lightness, and folly, and a disguised mockery. And if thou beelevest it is in mockery, from henceforth I know thou art deceived. I have lived longer than thou, I have read more than thou, and with great pain have gone further than thou. And sins that with all these advertisements, in the end I find myself mocked: hopest thou to live surely, and escape without fraud or guile? When thou shalt think to have the empire in rest, then shall there arise a province in Africa, or in Asia, the loss of the which should come to a great inconvenience: and for to recover it, great charges would ensue. When thou thinkest to recover friends, then shall strange enemies invade thee. So that in flattering, and rejoicing our friends, we can not keep them: and in flying, and rejecting them, we can not defend ourselves. When thou shalt think to be in greatest joy, then shall some care oppress thy heart. For princes which have, and possess much the news which give them pleasure, are very seldom: but the things which annoy them, come hourly. When thou shalt think to have liberty, to do what thou wilt: then shalt thou be most restrained.  
For the good and well ordered princes, ought not to go whither their wanton desires moveth them: but where it is most lawful, and decent for the honour of their estates. When thou shalt think that none dare reprove thee, for that thou art emperor, then oughtest the most to beware. For if they dare not threaten evil princes with words, they have the hardiness to sell them by treason. If they dare not punish them, they dare mumur at them: and these which can not be their friends, do procure to be their enemies: finally, if they lay not hands on their persons, they let their tongue run at large to prate of their renown. When thou shalt think to have satisfied thy servants, then will they demand recompense for their services. For it is an old custom among courtiers, to spend freely, and covet greedily. Therefore if thou dost credit these things, I know not who is so foolish, that for his inheritance desireth such sorrow. For admit that any man come to the empire, without comparison the rest is more worth, which the empire taketh from him: then the pleasures which it giveth him? If the empire of Rome were as well corrected and ordered, as in old time it was accustomed to be: though it were great pain to govern it, yet it were more honour to keep it, but it is so rooted in vices, and so many tyrants are entered therein, that I would take them more wise to judge it a mockery, than those which embrace it as an honour. If thou knewst what Rome is worth, what Rome hath, what Rome may, and what Rome is, I swear unto thee, that thou wouldst not labour much to be lord thereof. For though Rome with walls be strongly compassed: yet of virtuous citizens it is greatly unprovided. If the inhabitants be great, the vices are without number. Finally I say, that the stones which are in the buildings, in one day may be counted: but the evils which are therein, in a .1000. years can not be declared. By the faith of a good man I swear unto thee, my son, that when I began to reign, in 3. years I repaired the decayed walls that were of Rome fallen: and one only street to live well, in xx. years I could not reform. The divine Plato said very well: That much more ought the great cities to glorify, to have virtuous citizens: then to have proud & sumptuous buildings. Beware, beware my son, that the inconstancy of youth, and the liberty which thou hast to possess, and govern the empire, cause thee not to undo thyself. For he is not counted free, with in liberty is borne: but he that dieth in liberty. O of how many I have red, hard, & also seen which are borne slaves, and afterwards have died free: and this for that they were virtuous. And how many I have seen die slaves, being bornfree only for being vicious: so that there liberty remaineth, where nobleness is resident. Princes which have great realms, of necessity shall have occasions to punish many excesses: wherefore it is requisite, that they be courageous. And believe me my son, that they ought not to take courage upon them, because they be mighty, and puissant: but because they are virtuous. For to punish these excesses of others, the good life is more requisite: then is the great authority of the empire. A virtuous prince ought to leave no vice unpunished, for the good, to follow good, & the evil for fear of his correction, dare not commit any offence in the common wealth. He that liveth like a wise man, is hardy to give punishment: but he that liveth in fear, dare not almost speak. For the man which dare be so hardy to punish an other, for the self same fault for the which he deserveth to be punished: of the gods he is justly hated, & of men despised. Let princes take it for an assured thing, that they shall never have the love of the people, the liberty of the common wealth, the order of their house, the contentation of their friends, the subjection of their enemies, and the obedience of their people: but with many tears shed on the earth, and with many prowesses done of his person. To a virtuous prince, all do render: & against the vicious prince, all the earth doth rebel. If thou wilt be virtuous hear what thing virtue is. Virtue is a castle which never is taken, a river which is not passed over, a sea which is not sailed, a fire that never is quenched, a treasure that never is wasted, an army that never is overthrown, a change which never wearieth, a spy which always returneth, a sign which beegilesh no man, a way very straight, a friend that succoureth all necessities, a surgeon that immediately healeth, & a renown which never perisheth. If thou knewest, my son, what thing it is to be good, thou wouldst be the best of the world. For the more vicious a man is, so much the more he is entangled in vices: & how much more a man is virtuous, so much more to virtues he cleaveth. If thou wilt be virtuous, thou shalt do service to the gods, thou shalt give good renown to thy predecessors, & for thyself thou shalt prepare a perpetual memory. Thou shalt do pleasures to strangers, & get the favour of thine own people. Finally, the good will honour thee with love: & the evil will serve thee with fear. In the histories of the wars of the Charentines, I found the renowned Pirrus (king of Epirotes) did wear in a ring these words written. It is too little punishment for a vicious man, to take his life from him: & it is too small a reward for a virtuous man, to give him the signory of the whole earth. Truly these words were worthy of such a man. What thing can be beegon of a virtuous man, whereof we hope not to see the end, & come to good proof? I am deceived, if I have not seen in my days many men, which were base borne, unfit for sciences, void of vices in the common wealth, poor of goods & unknown of birth, which with all these base conditions have learned so many virtues, that it seemed great rashness to begin them: & afterwards for being virtuous only, they have found the effects such as they thought it. By the immortal gods I swear unto thee, & so the god jupiter take me into his holy house & confirm thee my son in mine: if I have not known a gardener & a potter in Rome, which for being virtuous, were occasion to cast five rich senators out of the senate. And the cause to make the one to gain, & the other to lose, was that to the one they would not pay the pots, and to the other his apples For at that time more was he punished, which took an apple from a poor man, than he which bet down a rich man's house. All this I have told thee my son, because vice abaseth the hardy prince: & virtue giveth courage to the bashful. From ii things I have always kept myself. That is to weet, not to strive against open justice, nor to contend with a virtuous person.   

¶ The Emperor Marcus Aurelius followeth his purpose, & among other wholesome counsels exhorteth his son to keep wise and sage men about him, for to give him counsel in all his affairs. Cap. lv.  
HItherto I have spoken to thee in generally, but now I will speak unto the particularly, & by the immortal gods I conjure thee, that thou be very attentive to that I will say: For talking to thee as an aged father it is reason thou hear me as an obedient child. If thou wilt enjoy long life, observe well my doctrine: For the gods will not condescend to thy heart's desires, whiles thou receivest my wholesome counsels. The disobedience & unfaithfulness, which children have to their fathers, is all their undoing. For oftentimes the gods do pardon the offences, that are done unto them: & do not pardon the disobediences which the children bear to their fathers. I do not require thee my son: that thou give me money, sins thou art poor. I do not demand that thou travail, sins thou art tender. I do not demand the revengement of mine enemies, since I have none. I do not demand that thou serve me, sins I die. I do not demand the empire, sins I leave it unto thee. Only I do demand, that thou govern thyself well in the common wealth: and that the memory of my house be not lost through thee. If thou esteem much that I leave unto thee so many realms, I think it better to leave thee many good counsels, wherewith thou mayst preserve thy selue, sustain thy parson, & maintain thine honour. For if thou hast presumption not to profit with my counsel, but to trust to thine own mind: before my flesh be eaten with worms, thou shalt be overcome with thy enemies. My son, I have been young, light, bold, unshamefast, proud envious, covetous an advoulterer, furious, a glutton, slothful, & ambitious, & for that I have fallen into so great excesses, therefore I give thee such good advise. For the man which in his youth hath been very worldly, from him in age proceedeth ripe counsel. That which until this time I have counseled thee & that which to my death I will counsel the. I desire that on's at the least thou prove it: And if it do thee harm, leave it, & if it do thee good, use it. For there is no medicine so bitter, that the sick doth refuse to take: if there by he think he may be healed. I pray thee, I exhort thee, & I advise thee my son, that thy youth believe mine age, thy ignorancy believe my knowledge, thy sleep believe my watch, the dimness of thy eyes, believe the clearness of my sight, thy imagination believe my virtue, & thy suspicion believe my experience. For otherwise, one day thou shalt see thyself in sun distress, where small time thou shalt have to repent, & none to find remedy. Thou mayst say unto me (my son) that sins I have been young, I let thee to be young: & that when thou shall be aged, thou wilt amend: I answer thee, that if thou wilt live as young: yet at the least govern thyself as old. In a prince which governeth his common wealth well, many miseries are dissembled of his parson. Even as for mighty affairs, ripe counsels are necessary: so to endure the troubles of the empire, the person needeth some recreation. For the bow string which always is stretched, either it lengtheneth, or it breaketh. Whether princes be young or old, there can be nothing more just than for the recreation of themselves, to seek some honest pastimes. And not without a cause I say that they be honest. For sometimes they accompany with so dishonest persons, and so unthrifty: that: they spend their goods, they lose their honour, & weary their persons more, than if they were occupied in the affairs of the common wealth. For thy youth, I leave thee children of great lords, with whom thou mayst past the time away. And not without cause I have provided that with thee they have been brought up from thy infancy. For after thou camest to man's estate, enheriting my goods, if perchance thou would accompany thyself with young men, thou shouldst find them well learned. For thy wars, I leave thee valiant captains, though (indeed) things of war are beegoon by wisdom: yet in the end, the issue falleth out by fortune. For stewards of thy treasures, I leave thee faithful men. And not without cause, I say they are faithful. For oftentimes greater are the thieves which be receivers, & tresorers, then are they that do rob among the people. I leave thee (my son) expert & ancient men, of whom thou mayst take counsel, & with whom the mayst communicate thy troubles. For there can be formed no honest thing in a prince, unless he hath in his company ancient men: for such give gravity to his parson & authority to his palace. To invent theatres, to fish ponds: to chase wild beasts in the forests, to run in the fyelds, to let thy hawks fly, & to exercise weapons, all these things we can deny thee, as to a young man, & the being young, mayst rejoice thyself in all these. Thou oughtest also to have respect, that to ordain armies, invent wars, follow victories, accept truces, confirm peace raise brutes, to make laws, to promote the one, & put down the others, to punish the evil, & first to reward the good, the counsel of all these things ought to be taken, of clear judgements, of persons of experience, & of white heads. Thinkest thou not, that it is possible to pass the time with the young, & to counsel with the old? The wise and discreet princes, for all things have time enough, if they know well how to measure it. Be ware my son, that they note thee not to use great extremities. For the end & occasion why I speak it, is because thou shouldst know (if thou knowest not) that it is as undecent a thing for a prince, under the colour of gravity, to be ruled & governed wholly by old men: as under semblance of pastime, always to accompany himself with the young. It is no general rule, that all young men are light, nor all old men sage. And thou must according to my advise, in such case use it thus: if any old man lose the gravity of his age, expulse him from thee: if that find any young men sage, despise not their counsel. For the bees do draw more honey out of the tender flowers: then of the hard leaves. I do not condemn the aged, nor I do commend the young, but it shall be well done, that always thou choose of both the most virtuous. For of troth, there is no company in the world so evil ordered, but that there is mean to live with it, without any suspicion: so that if the young are evil with folly, the old are worse through covetousness. Onhis again I return to advertise thee (my son) that in no wise thou use extremity. For if thou believe none but young, they will corrupt thy manners with lightness: & if thou believe none but the old, they will deprave thy justice through covetousness. What thing can be more monstrous, then that the prince which commandeth all, should suffer him to be commanded of one alone? believe me son in this case, that the governments of many, are seldom times governed well by the head of one alone. The prince which hath to rule & govern many, aught to take the advise and counsel of many. It is a great inconvenience, that thou being lord of many realms, shouldst have but one gate, wherein all do enter into, to do their business with thee. For if perchance he which shall be thy familiar, be of his own nature good, and be not mine enemy: yet I would be afraid of him, because he is a friend of mine enemies. And though for hate they do me no evil: yet I am afraid that for the love of an other, he will cease to do me good. I remember that in the annalles of Pompeius, I found a little book of memories, which the great Pompeius bare about him, wherein were many things that he had read, & other good counsels, which in divers parts of the world he had learned: and among other words, there were these. The governor of the common wealth, which committeth all the government to old men, deserveth very little: & he that trusteth all young, is light. He that governeth it by himself alone, is beeyonde himself: & he which by himself & others do govern it, is a wise prince. I know not whither these sentences are of the same Pompeius, or that he gathered them out of some book, or that any philosopher had told him them, or some friend of his had geeven him them. I mean, that I had them written with his hands and truly they deserved to be written in letters of gold. When thy affairs shall be weighty, see thou dispatch them always by counsel. For when the affairs be determined by the counsel of many, the fault shall be divided among them all. Thou shalt find it for a truth (my son) that if thou take counsel of many, the one will tell the inconvenience, the other the peril, other the fear the other the damage, the other the profit, & the other the remedy, finally, they will so debate thy affairs, that plainly thou shalt know the good & see the danger thereof. I advertise thee (my son) that when thou tak'st counsel, thou behold with thy eyes the inconvenience, as well as the remedies which they shall offer unto thee. For the true counsel consisteth not, to tell what they ought to do, but to declare what thereof is like to succeed. When that shalt enter prize (my son) great & weighty affairs, as much oughtest thou to regard the little damages for to cut them of in time: as the great mishaps, to remedy them. For oftentimes it chanceth, that for the negligence of taking up a gutter, the whole house falleth to the ground. Notwithstanding I tell thee thou take counsel. I mean not, that thou oughtest to be so curious, as for every trifle to call thy counsel. For there are many things of such quality, that they would be immediately put in execution: & they do endamage themselves, attending for counsel. That which by thine own authority thou mayst dispatch with out the damage of the common wealth, refer it to no other person: & here in thou shalt be just, & shalt do justice confourmable. For considering that thy service dependeth only of them, the reward which they ought to have, aught to depend only on thee. I remember, that when Marius the Consul came from the wars of Numidia, he divided all the treasure he brought amongst his soldiers, not putting one jewel into the common treasure. And when here of he was accused, for that he had not demanded licence of the senate: he answered them. It is not just I take counsel with others, for to give recompense to those: which have not taken the opinions of others, to serve me. Thou shalt find (my son) a kind of men, which are very hard of money, and exceeding prodigal of counsel. There are also divers lender's, which without demanding them, do offer to give it. With such like men, thou shalt have this counsel, never look thou for good counsel at that man, whose counsel tendeth to the prejudice of another. For he offereth words to thy service, & travaileth thy business to his own profit. As the gods gave me long life, of these things have I had great experience, wherein I let thee know, that for the space of xv years I was consul, Senator, Censor, Praetor, Questor, Edil, & Tribune: & after all this, I have been .18. years emperor of Rome, wherein all those which have spoken most against me, touched the profit or damage of another. The chief intention of those which follow the courts of Princes are to procure to augment their houses. And if they cannot come to that, they seek to dimynish the of another, not for that any profit should follow unto them thereof, be it never so little: but because man's malice is of such condition, that it esteemeth the profit of another, his own damage. They ought to have great compassion of the Prince, for the most that follow him, serve him not for that they love him but for the gifts & rewards which they hope to have of him. And this seemeth to be true, for the day that Princes shall cease to give them: the self same day beegyn they to hate him. So that such servants, we cannot call friends of our persons: but covetous of our goods. That thou love (my son) the one above the other, thou mayst right well: but I advertise thee that thou, nor they do make any semblance, in such sort that all do know it. For if thou dost otherwise: they will murmur at thee, & will all persecute thee. He incurreth into no small peril, nor hath no little trouble, which is above all of the Prince beloved. & of the people hated. For than he is hated, & persecuted of all. And yet more damage ensueth unto him, of the enmyty of all: then doth of the love of the prince alone, For sometimes (the gods permitting it, and his behaviour deserving it) the Prince doth cease to love him: & therewith his enemies beegyn to persecute him. From the time I knew what meaned to govern a common weal, I have always determined, never to keep man in my house one day, after I know him to be an enemy to the common wealth. In the year of the foundation of Rome, 649. Lucius Lucullus the Senator going to the wars against Mithridate, by chance found a tablet of copper, in the city called Triganie, the which was at the gate of the king of that province. And on that same was engraven certain Chaldean letters, the which in effect said these words. The prince is not sage, who will put in hazard the state of his common wealth, for the only commodity of one alone: For the service of one, cannot avail against the love of al. The prince is not sage, the for to enrich one alone, seeketh to impoverish all: For it is a thing untolerable, that the one do labour the fyelds, and the other do gather the fruit.  
The Prince is not just, which will satisfy the covetousness of one more than the service of all: for there is mean to pay the services of the good, and there is no riches to satisfy the covetousness of the evil. The Prince is a fool that despiseth the counsel of all, and trusteth in the opinion of one. For though there be in a great ship but one Pilot, yet it needeth many Mariners. Bold is the Prince, which to love one only, willbe hated of all: for noble Princes ought to think it much profit to be beloved, and much more displeasure to be hated. These were the words which were written in that tablet, worthy of eternal memory. And I will tell thee further in this case that Lucullus the Senator sent on the one part the tablet of copper, where these words were: and on the other part, the coffers where in he had brought the riches, to the end the senate should choose one, and leave the other. The senate despising the riches and treasures, choose the tablet of counsels.   

¶ The Emperor followeth his matter and exhorteth his son unto certain particular things worthy to be engraved in the hearts of men. Cap. lvi.  
Until now, I have spoken as a father to his son, that which toucheth thy profit. Now I will tell thee what thou shalt do after my death for my service. And if thou wilt be the true son of thy father, the things which I have loved in my life, shall be of thee esteemed after my death. do not resemble many children, which after their fathers have closed their eyes, do remember them no more. For in such case, though in deed the fathers be dead & buried: yet they are always living, to complain to the Gods of their children, Though it seemeth not to be slanderous, yet it is more perilus, to contend with the dead: then to injure the living. And the reason is for that the living may revenge, & are for to answer: but the dead cannot make answer, & much less they can be revenged. And in such case the Gods do take their cause in protection: & some times they execute such cruel punishment of those that live, that rather than they would endure it, they wish to be dead. Thou oughtest to think (my son) that I have beegot thee, I have nourished thee, I have taught thee, I have trimmed thee, I have chastised thee, and I have exalted thee. And for this consideration, though by death I am absent, it is not reason that thou ever forget me. For the true, & not unthankful child, ought the same day to bury his father in his tender heart: when others have laid him in the hard grave. One of the visible chastisements which the gods give to men in this world is, that the children obey not their fathers in their life. For the self same fathers did not remember, their own fathers after their death. Let not young Princes think, after they have inherited, after they see their father dead, & after they are past correction of their masters, that all things ought to be done as they themselves will it, for it will not be so. For if they want the favour of the Gods, & have maledyction of their fathers: they live in trouble, and die in danger. I require nought else of thee (my son) but that such a father as I have been to thee in my life, such a son thou be to me after my death. I commend unto thee (my son) the veneration of the gods, and this chiefly above all thing. For the prince with maketh account of the gods, need not to fear any storm of fortune. Love the gods, & thou shalt be beloved. Serve them, & thou shalt be served. Fear them, & thou shalt be feared. Honour them, & thou shalt be honoured. Do their commandments & they will give thee thy heart's desire. For the gods are so good, that they do not only receive in account, that which we do: but also that which we desire to do. I commend unto thee (my son) the reverence of the Temples, that is to weet, that they be not in discord, that they be clean & renewed, that they offer therein the sacrifices accustomed. For we do not this honour, to the substance wherewith the temples are made: but to the Gods, to whom they are consecrated. I commend unto thee the veneration of priests: & I pray thee, though they be covetous, avaricious, dissolute, unpatient, negligent, & vicious: yet that they be not dishonoured. For to us others it appertaineth, not to judge of the life they lead as men: but we must consider, that they are mediators between the gods & us. Behold my son, that to serve the gods, honour the temples, & reverence the priests, it is not a thing voluntary, but very necessary for Princes: For so long endured the glory of the Greeks, as they were worshippers of their Gods, & careful of their Temples. The unhappy realm of Catthage was nothing more cowardly, nor less rich, then that of the Romans, but in the end, of the Romans, they were overcome, because they were great lovers of their treasures, and little worshippers of their Temples. I commend unto thee (my son) Helia thy steep mother: & remember, though she be not thy mother, yet she hath been my wife. That which to thy mother Faustine thou oughtest for bringing thee into the world: the self same thou oughtest to Helia, for the good entertainment which she hath showed thee. And in deed, often times I being offended with the she maintained thee, & caused me to forget: so that she by her good words did win again that, which thou by thy evil works didst lose. Thou shalt have my curse, if thou usest her evil: & thou shalt fall into their of the gods, if that agreest that other do not use her well. For all the damage which she shall feel, shall not be, but for the inconvenience of my death, & injury of thy person. For her dowry I leave her the tributes of Hostia, & the orchards of Vulcanus, which I have made to be planted for her recreation. Be thou not so hardy to take them from her: for in taking them from her, thou shalt show thy wickedness, & in leaving them her, thy obedience, & in giving her more, thy bounty & liberalyty. Remember (my son) that she is a Roman woman young, & a widow, & of the house of Trajan my lord, & that she is thy mother adoptative, & my natural wife: & above all, for that I leave her recommended unto thee, I commend unto thee my son in laws, whom I will thou use as parents and friends. And beware, that thou be not of those which be brethren in words, & cousins in works. Be thou assured that I have willed somuch good to my daughters, that the best which were in all the countries, I have chosen for their persons. And they have been so good, that if in giving them my daughters, they were my son in laws: in love. I loved them as children. I commend unto thee my Sisters, & daughters, whom I leave thee all married: not with strange kings, but with natural senators. So that all dwell in Rome where they may do thee services: and thou mayst give them rewards & gifts. Thy sisters have greatly inheryted the beauty of thy mother Faustine: & have taken little nature of their father Mark. But I swear unto thee, that I have geeven them such husbands, and to their husbands, such and so profitable counsels: that they would rather lose their life then agree to any thing touching their dishonour. Use thy sisters in such sort that they be not out of favour, for that their aged father is dead and that they become not proud, for to see their brother Emperor. Women are of a very tender condition: for of small occasion they do complain, & of less they wax proud. Thou shalt keep them & preserve them after my death, as I did in my life. For otherwise, their conversation to the people shallbe very noisome: & to thee very importunate. I commend unto thee, Lipula thy youngest Sister which is enclosed with in the virgin, vestals, who was daughter of thy mother Faustine, whom so dearly I have loved in life, & whose death I have beewailed until my death. Every year I gave to thy sister, six thousand Sexterces for her necessities: & in deed I had married her also, if she had not fallen into the fire, & burned her face. For though she were my last, I loved her with all my heart. All have esteemed her fall into the fire for evil luck: but I do count the evil luck for good fortune. For her face was not so burned with coals as her renown suffered peril among evil tongues. I swear unto thee (my son) that for the service of the gods, & for the renown of men: she is more sure in the Temple with the vestal Virgins, then the art in the Senate with thy Senators. I suppose now, that at the end of the journey, she shall find herself better to be enclosed, than thou at liberty. I leave unto her (in the province of Lucania) every year six thousand sexterces. Travail to augment them for her, & not to dymynish them. I commend unto thee Drusia the Roman widow, who hath a process in the Senat. For in the times of the commotions past her husband was banished & proclaimed traitor. I have great piety of so noble, & worthy a widow: for it is now iii months since she hath put up her complaint & for the great wars I could not show her justice. Thou shalt find (my son) that in xxxv years I have governed in Rome, I never agreed that any widow should have any suit before me, above viii days. Be careful to favour, and dispatch the orphans, and widows. For the needy widows, in what place so ever they be, do incur into great danger. Not which out cause I advertise thee, that the travail to dispatch them so soon as the mayst: & to administer justice unto them. For through the prolonging of beautiful women's suits, their honour & credit is diminished. So that their business being prolonged, they shall not recover so much of their goods as they shall lose of their renown. I commend unto thee (my son) my old servants, which with my long years, and my cruel wars, with my great necessities, with the cumbrance of my body, and my long disease, have had great trouble: & as faithful servants, oftentimes to ease me, have annoyed themselves. It is convenient since I have prevailed of their life, that they should not lose by my death. Of one thing I assure thee, that though my body remain with the worms in the grave: yet before the gods I will remember them. And herein thou shalt show thyself to be a good child, when thou shalt recompense those which have served thy father well. All princes which shall do justice, shall get enemies in the execution thereof. And sith it is done by the hands of those, which are near him the more familiar they are with the prince, the more are they hated of the people: all in generally do love justice, but none do rejoice that they execute it in his house. And therefore after the Prince endeth his life, the people will take revenge of those, which have been ministers thereof. It were great infamy to the empire, offence to the gods, injury to me, unthankfulness to thee, having found the arms of my servants, ready xviii. years, that thy gates should be shut against them one day. Keep, keep these things (my son) in thy memory: and since particularly I do remember them at my death, consider how heartily I loved them in my life.   

¶ The good Marcus Aurelius, Emperor of Rome, endeth his purpose & life. And of the last words which he spoke to his son Commodus, and of the table of counsels which he gave him. Cap. lvii.  
WHen the Emperor had ended his particular recommendations, unto his son Commodus, as the dawning of the day began to appear: so his eyes began to close, his tongue to falter, & his hands to tremble, as it doth accustom to those, which are at the point of death. The prince perceiving then little life to remain, commanded his secretory Panutius to go to the coffer of his books, & to bring one of the coffers before his presence: out of the which he took a table of iii foot of breadth, and two. of length, the which was of Ebon, bordered all about with unicorn. And it was closed with .2. lyds, very fine of red wood, which they call rasing, of a tree where the Phoenix (as they say) breedeth, which did grow in Arabia, And as there is but one only Phoenix, so in the world is there but one only tree of that sort. On the uttermost part of the table, was graven the God jupiter, & on the other the goddess Venus: & in the other was drawn the God Mars, & the goddess Diana. In the uppermost part of the table was carved a bull: & in the neythermost part was drawn a king. And they said the painter of so famous & renowned a work, was called Apelles. The Emperor taking the table in his hands, casting his eyes unto his son, said these words. Thou seest my son, how from the turmoils of fortune I have escaped, & how I into miserable destinies of death do enter, where by experience I shall know what there is after this life. I mean not now to blaspheme the gods: but to repent my sins. But I would willingly declare why the gods have created us, since there is such trouble in life, & such pain in death. Not understanding why the gods have used so great cruelti with creatures, I see it now, in that after lxii years I have sailed in the danger & peril of this life: now they command me to land, & harbour in the grave of death. Now approacheth the hour wherein the band of matrimoni is loosed, the thread of life untwined, the key doth lock, the sleep is wakened, my life doth end, & I go out of this troublesome pain. Remembering me of that I have done in my life, I desire no more to live: but for that I know not whither I am carried by death, I fear & refuse his darts. Alas what shall I do, since the gods tell me not what I shall do? what counsel shall I take of any man, since no man will accompany me in this journey? O what great deceit, o what manifest blindness is this, to love one thing all the days of his life, & to call nothing with us after our death? Because I desired to be rich, they let me die poor. Because I desired to live with company, they let me die alone. For such shortness of life, I know not what he is that will have a house, since the narrow grave is our certain mansion place? believe me, my son, that many things past do grieve me sore: but with nothing so much I am troubled, as to come so late to the knowledge of this life. For if I could perfectly believe this, neither should men have cause to reprove me, neither yet I now such occasion to lament me. O how certain a thing is it, that men when they come to the point of death, do promise the gods, that if they prorogue their death, they will amend their life? but notwithstanding, I am sorry that we see them delivered from death, without any manner of amendment of life. They have obtained that, which of the gods they have desired: & have not performed that, which they have promised. They ought assuredly to think, that in the sweetest time of their life, they shall be constrained to accept death. For admit that the punishment of ingrate persons be deferred: yet therefore the fault is not pardoned. Be thou assured my son, that I have seen enough, hard, felt, tasted, desired, possessed, eaten, slept, spoken, and also lived enough. For vices give as great trouble, to those which follow them much: as they do great desire, to those which never proved them. I confess to the immortal Gods, that I have no desire to live: yet I ensure thee, I would not die. For life is so troublesome that it weareth us: & death is so doubtful, that it feareth us. If the gods deferred my death, I doubt whither I should reform my life. And if I do not amend my life, nor serve the Gods better, nor profit the common wealth more, & if that every time I am sick, it should grieve me to die: I say it is much better for me now to accept death, then, to wish the lengthening of my life. I say the life is so troublesome, so fickle, so suspicious, so uncertain, & so importunate (finally I say, it is a life without life) that he is an obstinate fool, which so much desireth it. Come that that may come: for finally, not withstanding that I have spoken, I willingly commit myself into the hands of the Gods, since of necessity I am thereunto constrained. For it proceedeth not of a little wisdom, to receive that willingly, which to do we are constrained of necessity. I will not recommend myself to the priests, nor cause the oracles to be visited, nor promise any thing to the temples, nor offer sacrifices to the gods, to the end they should warrant me from death, and restore me to life: but I will demand, and require them, that if they have created me for any good thing, I may not lose it for my evil life. So wise and sage are the gods in that they say, so just & true in that they promise, that if they give us not that which we others would: it is not for that they will not, but because we deserve it not. For we are so evil, and worth so little, and we may do so little, that for many good works we deserve no merit: and yet with an evil work, we be made unworthy of al. Since therefore I have put myself in to the hands of the Gods, let them do with me what they will for their service: for in the end, the worst that they will do is much better than the world will do. For all that the world hath geeven me, hath been but mockery, and deceit: but that which the gods have geeven me, I have governed, and possessed without suspicion. For this last hour (my son) I have kept the best, the most noble, and riches jewel that I have possessed in my life tyme. And I do protest unto the immortal gods, that if as they do command me to die, they would give me licence to read in the grave: I would command it to be buried with me. Thou shalt know my son, that in the ten year of my Empire, a great war arose against the unruly people of Persia, where by evil luck it was appointed for me, in person to give the battle: the which won, and all their country destroyed, I returned by the old city of Thebes in Egypt, to see if I could find any antiquity of those in times past. In the house of an Egyptian priest, I found a little table, which they hanged at the gate of the kings palace the day of his coronation. And this poor priests told me, that that which was in this table, was written by a king of Egypt, named Ptholomeus Arsasides. I beseech the immortal Gods, my son, that such be thy works, as the words of this table require. As emperor, I leave thee heir of many realms: and as a father, I give thee this table of counsels. The words which the fathers do teach unto the children at the last hour, the children ought to keep continually in their memory. Let this therefore be my last word, with the Empire thou shalt be feared through out all the world: and with the counsels of this table, thou shalt be loved of all nations. This talk being ended, and the table geeven, the Emperor turned his eyes, lost his senses, and for the space of a quarter of an hour lay languishing in extreme pain, & within a while after yielded up the ghost. In this table wear certain greek letters which were in meeter and in our tongue signify thus.  

ON honour's stall I do no tyrant heave,  
nor yet the poor suppress if he wear just  
For riches rule I nould to pardon cleave,  
For want of wealth nor follow rigours lust.   

For naked love I never spent reward,  
nor would correct for only envies heat,  
Of virtues imps I always had regard  
& mischifs mates have plagd with torment great.   

To others doom I never would commit  
of open right the quarrel to decide  
ne yet of doubtful strifes in trust of wit  
The final end alone I would divide.   

To them that sought for justice equal sway  
her golden rule I never did deny  
ne yet to such for whom desert would lay  
Their slender faults might well be slipped by   

To feel the grief that waved in my mind  
With others smart I never could sustain  
nor yet rewards my princely words would bind  
When sweet delight had chiefest joy to rain.   

In high estate when most blind fortune smiled  
A reckless life I restless ran not on  
nor yet when change those happy days beegyld  
to cold despaier my quiet mind was gone.   

By boiling heat of malice endless fire  
to vices train I cast no eager eye  
ne yet for lust of pining wealths desire  
unleeful facts I reckless would apply.   

The traitors breast I never could embrace  
nor lend mine ears to swallow flattering talk  
of vices slaves I weighed not the grace  
nor left unsought good will in virtues walk.   

Poor Irus band for that I did relive  
Whose needy state doth stoop in Croesus' sway  
the greatest gods whose heavenly warck doth grieve  
the proudest crowns was aymy present state,    
FINIS.   

¶ The fourth book of the Dial of Princes Compiled by the right reverend father in god, Antony of Guevara, Bishop of Mondogueto, preacher, Chronicler, and counsellor to Charles the fift Emperor of Rome: Containing many instructions and rules, for the favoured of the Court, being once in favour, easily to keep and continue themselves in favour still. Right necessary & profitable for all princes, and noble men, & gentlemen courtiers that seek to continue themselves in honour and estimation.   

The Epistle to the Reader.  
WHat detracting tongues report of me and my first travel in the translation of this Dial, enlarging them at pleasure to work my defame, disabling my doing herein, by brute it was no work of mine, but the fruit of others labour: I need not much force, since by daily proof we see, that ill disposed minds can never frame an honest tongue in head. For my object, and reproof of this their slanderous & malignant speech, I can allege (courteous reader) two principal causes, which thou reading and judging with indifferency, mayst easily approve, if I should seem to gloze with thee. First, the baseness of my style, the plain and humble words couched in the same, the mean, rude, and ill contrived sentences laid before thee, together with the simple handling of the whole: plainly showeth to thee whence they are, and easily acquainteth thee with the curious translator. Who protesteth to god, and confesseth to the world, that he more rashly then wisely plunged himself into so grave and deep a matter, and whose young years and unskilful head, might both then and now have excused his fond enterprise herein. For the second and last, I must needs appeal to all the worshipful, and my beloved companions, and fellow students of our house of Lyncolnes' Inn at that time, from whence my poor english Dial took his light. To whose just and true reports (for thy undoubted satisfaction, and discharge of my poor honesty) I refer thee, and wholly yield me. These recited causes, for purgation of my suspected fame, as also for established assurance of the like, and thy further doubt of me hereafter, I thought good (gentle reader) to denounce unto thee. I might well have spared this second and last labour of mine taken, in the reformation and correction of this Dial, enlarging myself further once again, with the translation of the late and new come favoured courtier (and which I found annexed to the Dial for the fourth and last book) If my preceding travel taken in the setting forth of the first three books, and the respect of mine honesty in accomplyshing of the same, had not incited me (unwilling) to continue my first begun attempt, to bring the same to his perfit and desired end: which whole work is now complete by this last book, entitled the favoured courtier. Which first and last volume, wholly as it lieth, I prostrate to the judgement of the grave and wise Reader, subjecting myself and it, to the reformation and correction of his learned head, whom I beseech to judge of me with favour and equity: and not with malice to persecute my same, and honest intent, having for thy benefit, (to my little skill and knowledge) employed my simple talon, craving no other guerdon of thee, but thy good report, and courteous acceptance hereof. Which doing thou shalt make me double bound to thee. First, to be thankful for thy good will. Secondly, to be considerate how hereafter I take upon me so great a charge. Thirdly, thou shalt encourage me to study to increase my talon.  
Fourthly, and lastly, most freely to beestow th'increase thereof on thee, and for the benefit of my country and common weal, whereto duty bindeth me: Observing the sage & prudent saying of the renowned orator and famous Cicero: with which I end, and thereto leave thee. Non nobis solum nati sumus, ortusque nostri partem patria vendicat, partem parents, partem amici. In defence and preservation whereof (good reader) we ought not alone to employ our whole wits and able senses, but necessity enforcing us, to sacrifice ourselves also for benefit thereof. From my lord Norths' house near London the .10. day of May. 1568.  
Thine that accepteth me. Th. North.   

¶ The prolog of this present work showeth what one true friend ought to do for an other: Addressed to the right honourable the lord Frances Conos, great commander of lion.  
THe famous Philosopher Plato, beesought of all his disciples to tell them, why he iornyed so oft from Athens to Scicille, being the way he traveled (in deed) very long, and the sea he passed very dangerous: answered them thus. The cause that moves me to go from Athens to Scicille, is only to see Photion, a man iustinal that he doth, and wise in all that he speaketh: and because he is my very friend, and enemy of Denys, I go also willingly to him, to aid him in that I may, and to council him in all the I know: and told them further. I do you to weet my disciples, that a good philosopher, to visit and help his friend, and to accompany with a good man, should think the journey short, and no whit painful, though he should sulk the whole seas, and place the compass of the earth. Appolonius Thianeus departed from Rome, went through all Asia, sailed over the great flood Nile, endured the bitter cold of mount Caucasus, suffered the parching heat of the mountains Riphei, passed the land of Nassagera, & entered into the great India: And this long pilgrimage took he upon him, in no other respect, but to see Hyarcus the philosopher, his great and old friend. Agesilaus also among the Greeks accounted a worthy Captain, understanding that the king Hycarius had an other captain (his very friend) captive: leaving all his own affairs apart, traveling through divers countries, went to the place where he was, and arrived there, presented himself unto the king, and said thus to him. I humbly beseech thee O puissant king, thou deign to pardon Minotus, my sole and only friend, and thy subject now: for what thou shalt do to him, make thy account thou hast done it to me. For in deed thou canst never alone punish his body, but thou shalt therewith also crucify my heart.  
King Herod after Augustus had overcome Mark Antony, came to Rome, and laying his crown at the Imperial feet, with stout courage spoke these words unto him. Know thou (mighty Augustus) if thou know'st it not, that if Mark Antony had believed me, and not his accursed love Cleopatra, thou shouldst then have proved how bitter an enemy I would have been to thee, and he have found how true a friend I was, and yet am to him. But he, as a man rather geeven over to the rule of a woman's will, then guided by reason's skill, took of me but money only, and of Cleopatra counsel. And proceeding further said: Lo here my kingdom, my person, and royal crown laid at thy princely feet, all which I freely offer to thee, to dispose of at thy will & pleasure, pleasing thee so to accept it, but yet with this condition (invict Augustus) that thou command me not to here nor speak ill of Mark Antony my lord and friend, yea although he were now dead. For know thou, sacred prince, that true friends, neither for death ought to be had in oblivion, nor for absens to be forsaken. julius Cesar last dictator and first emperor of Rome, did so entirely love Cornelius Fabatus the consul, that traveling togethers through the alps of France and being beenighted, far from any town or harbour, save that only of a hollow cave, which happily they lighted on: And Cornelius the consul even then not well at ease, julius Cesar left him the whole cave to th'end he might be more at rest, and he himself lay abroad in the cold & snow. By these goodly examples we have recited, and by divers others we cooled recite, may be considered, what faithful friendship ought to be beetwixt true and perfect friends, and into how many dangers one friend ought to put himself for an other. For it is not enough that one friend be sorry for the troubles of an other, but he is bound (if need were) to go and die joyfully with him. He only deservedly may be counted a true friend, that unasked, and before he be called, goeth with his goods and person to help and relieve his friend. But in this our iron age alas there is no such kind of amity as that we have spoken of. More than this, that there is no friend will part with any thing of his to relieve his friend, much less that taketh care to favour him in his troubles: but if there be any such that will help his friend, it is even then when time serveth rather to pity and lament him, then to aid or succour him. It is a thing worth the knowledge, that to make a true and perpetual friendship, we may not offer to many persons, but according to Seneca his saying, who saith. My friend Lucillus, I council thee that thou be a true friend to one alone, and enemy to none: for numbers of friends brings great encumbrance, which seemeth somewhat to diminish friendship. For who that considereth the liberty of the heart, it is impossible that one should frame and agree with the conditions of many, and much less that many should content them with the desires and affections of one. Tully and Sallust were two famous orators amongst the romans, and great enemies between themselves, and during this emulation between them, Tully had purchased all the Senators friendship, and Sallust only had no other friend in all Rome, but Mark Anthony alone. And so these two great Orators being one day at words togeethers, Tully in great anger said to Sallust: what force or power art thou of, or what canst thou do or attempt against me? sith thou know'st that in all Rome thou hast but one only friend, Mark Antony, and I no enemy but one, and that is he? To whom Sallust answered. Thou gloriest (O Tully) that thou hast no more but one only enemy, and afterwards jests at me, that I have no more friends but only one: but I hope in the immortal Gods, that this only enemy thou hast, shallbe able enough utterly to undo thee: and this my sole friend that I have, shallbe sufficient to protect and defend me in all my causes. And shortly after these words passed beetween them, Mark Antony showed the friendship he bore to the one, and the enmity he had to the other, for he caused Tully to be put to death, and raised Sallust to great honour. A friend may well impart to the other all his own, as bread, wine, money, time, conversation, and such like, but he cannot notwithstanding give him part of his heart, for that suffereth it not to be parted nor divided, because it can be geeven but to one alone. This granted to be true, as needs it must doubtless, that the heart can not be divided but only geeven to one, then is it of necessity, that he that will seek to have many friends, must needs repair to the shambels to provide him of many hearts. Many vaunt themselves, and think it a glory to have numbers of friends, but let such well consider to what use that legendary of friends do serve them, they shall then easily find they stand them in no other steed, but to eat, to drink, to walk, to babble, and to murmur togeethers, and not one to help the other with their goods, favour, and credit at their need, nor friendly to reprove them of their faults and vices, which doubtless ought not to be so. For where true and perfect friendship reigneth, neither I wish my friend, nor he with me should dissemble any fault or vice. ovid saith in his book de arte amandi, that the law of true & unfeigned love is so straight, that no friendship but mine in thy heart should herber, and in mine should lodge none others love but thine, for love is none other thing but one heart living in two bodies, & two bodies obeying one heart. In this world there is no treasure comparable to a true & sure friend, sith to a faith full friend a man may safely discover the secrets of his heart, beewray unto him his griping grieves, trusting him with his honour, committing to his guide & custody all his goods, he shall succour him in his misery, counsel him in peril, rejoice at his prosperity, and mourn at his adversity: and in fine I conclude, such a friend never wearieth to serve him in his life, nor to lament him after his death. I grant that gold and silver is good, kynsfolks are good, and money is good, but true friends exceed them all without comparison. For all these things cannot warrant us from necessity (if sinister fortune plunge us into it) but rather increase our torment and extremity: Also they do not rejoice us, but rather heap further griefs upon us, neither do they succour us, but rather each hour give us cause to complain, much less do they remember and advise us of that that is good, but still do deceive us, not dyrecting us the right way, but still bringing us out of our way, and when they have lead us awry out of the high way, they bring us into desert woods, and high and dangerous mountains, whereof necessity we must fall down headlong. A true friend is no partaker of these conditions, but rather he is sorry for the lest trouble that happeneth to his friend, he feareth not, neither spareth his goods, nor the danger of his person, he careth not to take upon him any painful journey, quarrels, or suits, nor yet to put his life in every hazard of death. And yet that that is most of all to be esteemed is, that like as the heart and bowels ever burn with pure and sincere love, so doth he wish and desire with gladsome mind, to bear the burden of all his friends mishaps, yea more than yet spoken of. Alexander the great offered great presents to the Philosopher Zenocrates, who would not vouchsafe to receive them, much less to behold them. And being demanded of Alexander why he would not receive them, having poor kinsfolks and parents to beestow them on: he answered him thus. Truly I have both brothers and sisters (O Alexander) yet I have no kinsman but him that is my friend, and one only friend I have, who hath no need of any gifts to be geeven him. For the only cause why I choose him to be my sole and only friend, was for that I ever saw him despise these worldly things. Truly the sentence of this good philosopher Zenocrates is of no small efficacy, for him that will advisedly consider of it, sith that not seeldom but many times it happeneth, that the great troubles, the sundry dangers, and the continual necessities and miseries we suffer in this vale of misery, have for the most part proceeded from our parents, and afterwards by our friends have been mediated and redressed. Therefore since we have thought it good and necessary to choose a friend, and that he be but one only, each man must be wise lest in such choice he be deceived. For oft times it happeneth, that those that take little regard herein, grant their friendship to such one as is to covetous, impatient, a great babbler, seditious, and presumptuous, and of such conditions that sometime it should be less evil for us to have him our enemy, then to account of him as of our dear friend. Him whom we will choose for our faithful friend, amongst other manners and conditions he must chiefly and before all be endued with these, that he be courteous of nature, fair spoken, hard and stout to endure pain, patient in troubles, sober in diet, moderate in his words, grave and ripe in his counsels, and above all steadfast in friendship, and faithful in secrets. And whom we shall find with these laudable virtues and conditions adorned, him may we safely take and accept for our friend. But if we see any of these parts wanting in him, we ought to shone him as from the plague, knowing for certainty, that the friendship of a feigned and fantastical friend is much worse and perilous, than the enmity of a known and open enemy. For to the hands of one we commit our heart, and faith: and from the deceits and treasons of the other, we defender selves with our whole force & power. Seneca writing to his dear & faithful friend Lucillus saith unto him. I pray thee (O Lucillus) that thou order & determine thine affairs by th'advise & counsel of thy friend, but also I do remember thee, that first thou see well what manner of friend thou hast chosen thee, for there is no merchandise in the world this day that men are so soon beegyled in, as they are in the choice of friends. Therefore the grave sentence of Seneca wisely weighed, we should assent with him in opinion, that sith no man buyeth a horse but he first causeth him to be ridden, nor bread but first he seeth and handleth it, nor wine but he tasteth it, nor flesh but first he weigheth it, nor corn but he seeth a sample, nor house but that he doth first value it, nor Instrument but first he playeth on it, and judgeth of his sound: it is but reason he should be so much the more circumspect before he choose his friend to examine his life and condition, since all the other things we have spoken of may be put in divers houses and corners, but our friend we lodge and keep dearly in our proper bowels. Those that writ of the emperor Augustus say, that he was very strange and scrupulous in accepting friends, but after he had once received them into his friendship, he was very constant and circumspect to keep them. For he never had any friend, but first he had some proof and trial of him, neither would he ever after forsake him for any displeasure done to him. Therefore it should always be so, that true friends should bear one to an other such love and affection that the one being in prosperity, should not have occasion to complain of himself in that he did not relive his friends necessity being in adversity: nor the other being poor and needy, should grudge or lament for that his friend being rich and wealthy, would not succour him with all that he might have done for him. For to say the truth, where perfect friendship is, there ought no excuse to be made to do what possible is the one for the other. The friendship of young men cometh commonly, (or for the most part at the least) by being companions in vice and folly: and such of right ought rather to be called vacabonds, than once to deserve the name of true friends. For that cannot be called true friendship, that is continued to the prejudice or derogation of virtue. Seneca writing again to Lucillus saith these words. I would not have thee think, nor once mistrust, O my Lucillus, that in all the roman empire I have any greater friend than thou: but with all assure thyself, that our friendship is not so straight between us, that I would take upon me at any time to do for thee otherwise then honesty should lead me. For though the love I bear thee hath made thee lord of my liberty: yet reason also hath left me virtue free.  

¶ The author proceedeth on.  
applying that we have spoken to that we will now declare, I say I will not acknowledge myself your servant, for so should I be compelled to fear you more than love you: much less will I vaunt myself to be your kinsman, for so I should importune and displease you: and I will not brag that heretofore we have been of familiar acquaintance, for that I would not make any demonstration I made so little account of you, and less than I am bound to do: neither will I boast myself that I am at this present your familiar and well-beloved, for in deed I should then show myself to be to bold and arrogant: but that that I will confess shallbe, that I love you as a friend, and you me as a kinsman, all be it this friendship hath succeeded diversly till now. For you being noble as you are, have bountifully showed your friendship to me, in large and ample gifts: but I poor, and of base estate, have only made you sure of mine in words. plutarch in his Polytikes said: That it were far better to sell to our friends our works and good deeds, (whether they were in prosperity, adversity, or necessity) then to feed them with vain flattering words for nothing. Yet is it not so general a rule, but that sometimes it happeneth that the high words on the one side are so profitable, and the works so few and feeble on the other side, that one shallbe better pleased and delighted with hearing the sweet and courteous words of th'one, then he shallbe to be served with the cold service and works of the other, of small profit and value. Plutarch also in his book De animalibus telleth us, that Denis the tyrant being one day at the table reasoning of divers and sundry matters with Chrisippus the philosopher, it chanced, that as he was at dinner, one brought him a present of certain sugar cakes, wherefore Chrysippus cesing his former discourse fell to persuade Denys to fall to his cakes. To whom Denys answered, on with your matter Chrysippus, and leave not of so: For my heart is better contented with thy sweet and sugared words, than my tongue is pleased with the delicate taste of these mountain cakes. For as thou knowest, these cakes are heavy of digestion, and do greatly annoy the stomach: but good words do marvelously rejoice and comfort the heart. For this cause Alexander the great had the poet Homer in greater veneration, being dead, than all the other that were alive in his time: not for that Homer ever did him service, or that he knew him, but only because of his learned books he wrote and compiled, and for the grave sentences he found therein. And therefore he bore about him in the day time the book of the famous deeds of Troy (called the Iliads) hanged at his neck within his bosom: & in the night he laid it under his bolster, at his beds head where he slept. In recompense therefore (sir) of the many good turns I have received at your hands, I was also willing to compile and dedicate this my little treatise to you, the which I present you with all my desires, my studies, my watches, my swett, and my troubles, holding myself fully satisfied for all the pains I have taken, so that this my simple travel be grateful to you (to whom I offer it) and to the public weal profitable. Being well assured, if it please you to trust me and credit my writing, you shall manifestly know how freely I speak to you, and like a friend, and not deceive you as a flatterer. For if the beloved and favoured of prince's chance to be cast out of favour, it is because every man flattereth him and seeketh to please him and no man goeth about to tell him troth, nor that that is for his honour, and fittest for him. Sallust in his book of the wars of jugurtha saith, that the high heroical facts and noble deeds were of no less glory to the historiographer that wrote them, than they were to the captain that did them. For it happeneth many times that the Captain dying in the battle he hath won, liveth afterwards notwithstanding by the fame of his noble attempt, and this proceedeth not only of the valiant deeds of arms he was seen do; but also for that we read of him in worthy authors which have amply written thereof. We may well say therefore touching this matter, that aswell may we take him for a true friend, that giveth good counsel: as he which doth us great pleasure, and service. For according to the opinion of the good Marcus Aurelius, who said to his secretary Panutius, that a man with one pay, may make full satisfaction and recompense of many pleasures and good turns showed: but to requite a good counsel, divers thanks and infinite services are requisite. If we will credit the ancient historiographers we shall find it true, that the virtuous emperors, the fortunate kings, and the valiant Captains, when they should enterprise to go conquer their enemies, either they sought for some philosopher, or they choose some other honest learned man, of whom they took council touching all their affairs, before they priest any soldiers. Comparing the times past, with the times present, we think (that have read some what) that the time past was as pure grain, and this now as chaff and straw: the one as the time calm and still in the sea, and this as wavering and tempestuous: that then the fine and pure metal, and this now the dross thereof: The other the marry, and this the bones: the one the clear day, and the other the dark night: For in these days in princes courts, and noble men's houses, they glory more to have a scoffing knave or jester to make them laugh, than they reckon of a grave and wise man to give them counsel. Alexander the great in all his wars would always be accompanied with the wise Aristotle. Cyrus' king of Persia, with the philosopher Chilo: King Ptolemy with Pithinus the philosopher: Pyrrhus' king of Epire, with Zatirus: Augustus themperor with Simonides: Scipio thAfrican with Sophocles: trajan themperor with plutarch, & Antonius' themperor with Gorgias: now all these famous princes carried not with them so many learned philosophers, to fight in battle with armed weapon in hand like other their soldiers, but only to use their council & advice. So that the great battles they overthrew, and the worthy victories they wan, with the noble triumphs done, was as much by the grave counsel of these good and wise Philosophers, as by the force of their army, and prows of their captains. The greatest good turn and benefit one friend can do for an other, is to know to give good counsel to his friend, in his greatest need: and not without cause I say to know to give counsel. For it happeneth oft times, that those that thought to have geeven us good remedy by their counsel, (wanting in deed discretion and judgement in the same) have caused us to run into further dangers. And therefore Seneca being once demanded of themperor Nero, what he thought of Scipio thAfrican, & Cato the censor, answered him in this manner. I think it was as necessary that Cato was born for the common wealth, as Scipio for the wars, for the good Cato with his prudent counsel expelled vice out of the wealth public, and the other with his noble courage and great armies did ever withstand the force of the enemies. According to the saying of Seneca, let us also say after him, that he is very arrogant that presumes to give an other counsel, but with all we say again: that if the counsel be found good he hath geeven to his friend in his need and necessity, as much praise deserveth he that gave it, as he that knew how to take it. Now after th'example of the ancient philosophers, which went to the wars not to fight, but only to give counsel, I will (sir) for those things that pertain to your service, and profit, take upon me the office of a philosopher, and for the first doctrine of my philosophy I say, that if it please you, to receive these counsels which my pen doth write to you, at this present, I promise you, and by the faith of a christian man I swear, that they shallbe such excellent helps to you, for the preservation of your credit and favour you are now in, as you may be enriched by the true and diligent service of your servants. For if a man would with an oath ask the truth of Plato, Socrates, Pythagoras, Diogenes, Lycurgus, Chilo, Pittachus, and of Apolonius, and also of all the university and company of the other philosophers, they would swear and affirm that the felicity of man consisteth not in great might, in great authority, and possessions: but only in deserving much. For the honour, favour, and dignities of this mortal life, are more to be praised and had in veneration when they are placed in a condign and worthy person: then they are being possessed of an unworthy and graceless man, allotted to him not by virtue, but by fortune. And therefore your authority being great at this present, exalted thereto by gods divine will and providence, and now in the highest degree of prosperity: I would wish you my good lord, less than any other courtier to trust to fortune's empery. For if the earthquakes sooner bring to ground the proud and stately Palaces, than the mean and low houses: if ofter fall on the highest mountains, the dreadful lightnings and tempests, then on the lowest hills: if among the greater multitude of people the plagues be rifer, then amongst the fewer number: if they use rather to spread their nets, and lay the byrdlyme on the green and thickst bows, then on the dry and withered sticks, to snare the silly birds withal: If always the stillest seas do foreshow to us a greater tempest following: and if that long health be a watch unto a great and dangerous sickness ensuing: by this also I will infer, that those that are achieved to sublime estate & high degree are commonly more subject to fall, than those of mean and base sort. The emperor Augustus on a time demanded of the Poet Virgil, that he would teach him how he might conserve himself in th'empire, and always be acceptable to the public weal. To whom Virgil answered. I think, O mighty Cesar, that to reign long in th'empire, thou must considerately look into thyself, examining thy life and doings: and how much thou shalt see thyself excel and exceed all those (of thy empire) in dignity: So much more must thou endeavour thyself to surmount all others, in virtue, and we orthynes. For he is unworthy to rule a multitude, that is not chief himself in all virtues. Those therefore that in court of princes bear office, and authority, ought earnestly to desire and endeavour themselves to avoid the filthy sink of vice, and to seek the clear spring of virtue. For otherwise, they shallbe more defamed for one vice or defect found in them, then honoured for their office and authority they have.   

¶ The author concludeth.  
According to the saying of the poet Virgil to the Emperor Augustus, I am also of opinion (my Lord) that you ought to be very circumspect and well advised, in looking into yourself who you are, what power you are of, what you are worth, and what you possess: and doing thus, you shall find that among your wise councillors you are the greatest, among the rich, among the best esteemed, among the most fortunate, among your secretories, among the rulers, amongst all those of your realm & subjects, you are ever the greatest. And therefore as you are greatest, and supreme above them all: so you ought the more to force to be the most virtuous of them all. For else it were against all reason, being the greatest, to be the least and most inferior of all. For truly none ought to be praised for good, for that he is of power, force, possessions, wealth, much worth, in favour, of dignity, neither for any nobility that is in him, if these natural gifts be not accompagnied with virtue & good works. The ancient historiographers do highly commend the greatness of Alexander, the knowledge of Ptolemy, the justice of Numa Pompilius, the clemency of julius Cesar, the patience of Augustus, the truth of trajan, the pity of Antonius, the temperancy of Constantius, the continency of Scipio, and the humanity of Theodosius: so that we may say these so great & noble princes have won more honour by their virtues, than they have achieved by triumphant victories. Albeit a man be never so dishonest, vicious, and lascivious, and that he be rooted in all idleness, let us say and avouch it for a truth, that it is impossible (if he may return to look back on himself, and that he may call to mind what manner of man he hath been, what he is at this present, & to what end he may come) but that the remembrance of his forepast faults and deeds, should be more grievous and yrksom to him, than the great delight his body should take of the present pleasures. For neither the worms in the wines, nor the locusts in the corn, nor the moths in the garments, nor the little worms in the wood are so hurtful and damageable, as sins are of power to make a man sorrowful. For to say truly, the pleasure we receive when we commit them is not so great, as is the displeasure we feel after we remember them. The which I considering, my lord, it causeth me to look over mine old memorials, to examine my memory, to strengthen my judgement, and to seek a new kind of study, to no other end, but to find out sweet words, divers doctryns, and strange histories, by means whereof I might withdraw you from vain and worldly delights, to cause you to walk in the right path, and to affect things virtuous and honest, though I have always known them as acceptable to you, as they have been familiar. For prince's servants, the more they are busied with affairs, the less they know them selves. And therefore great pain suffereth he, and with over venomous poison is he infected, that with others, and for other occupieth all his time, and for his own sowl health cannot spare a moment of tyme. O what comfort and quiet were it unto my heart, if it were assured it had taken the right way, in the doctrine which I writ to you, and that I had not erred in the counsels I give you: so that in reading my book you might acquire profit thereby, and I of my travel therein reap my full contentation. And to the end, my Lord, we may better express the matter, search the wound, and stop the vains, that we may leave no part uncured or dregs of infection, if heetherto I have used plainness, I will now speak more plainly to you, and yet as one friend useth to an other. And therefore may it please you to accept these small written preposes in this book, among all the residue, proceeding from the hands of one that rather desireth the health of your sowl, than the gain and satisfaction of your affects and desires.   

¶ All you that be princes familiars, and beloved Courtiers: observe and retain with you these few precepts and counsels.  
1 Never tell (my lord) to any all that you think. Show not all that you have. Neither take all that you desire: Tell not all that you know.  
Much less never do all that you may. For the right path way to bring the favoured courtier into his Prince's disgrace, is to be addicted to his sensual appetites and vain humours, and not to be guided with reason and discretion.  
2 Beware also you trust not, nor commit to the hazard of fortune's ticklenes such things, as touch and conserve your parson, honour, goods and conscience. For the wise courtier that liveth in his prince's grace, will not rashly put himself in danger, in hope to save himself harmless, at all times when he listeth.  
3 Although every man offer his service to you, and seem to be at your commandment when you shall need him: yet I tell you (sir) I would not wish you had either need of them, or of me: For many of those line and curious courtiers which are the first that offer themselves to draw on your side, and to stand by you if need be, are commonly (at the very pinch) the first and readiest to throw stones at our faces.  
4 In other men's matters busy not yourself to much: and in your own, strive not with time, but take leisure. For living after this rule, you shall long keep yourself in the good and quiet estate you are in, and otherwise some inconvenience might lightly fall upon you, that should make you remember what you were wont to be.  
5 The imminent peril and danger those are in, which are mounted to the top of some high thing, or to the cliff of some high and rocky mountain, where they have no other way to descend, but to fall, is much like to that of the familiars of Princes. And therefore my lord, I would wish you would procure you such faythfulll friends about you, that they having regard and care of your person, should always hold you by the gown for falling. And not such as after they had let you fall, would then lend you their hands to help you up again.  
6 All be it the things of the sowl should be preferred before all others of this worldly life, yet nevertheless I will be content, so that you have as great care and consideration of your conscience, as you have of your honour. All which I was willing to tell you (sir) to the end you may better understand, that those that are in estimation with the prince, though they may benefit by time (in taking their time) yet time doth never benefit by them at all.  
7 You must ever do good to your uttermost power, and never do displeasure to any, though it lie in your power, and that you have just cause. For the tears of the poor that are injuried, and the lamentable cries and plaints of the oppressed, may possibly one day ascend to the presence of the tribunal seat (where god shall sit in his majesty) demanding justice and vengeance against you: and also come to the ears of the prince, to cause you to be hated of him for ever.  
8 Touching the favour you will show to any, either in offices, or other benefits you will beestow on any man, take heed you always rather prefer honest and true Christians, than your own near kinsmen or friends.  
For a man may lawfully make his friend partaker of his goods, but not of his conscience.  
9 In your counsels you give, in any wise be not to much affectioned in them, neither scorn with those that contrary your opinion. Be not proud and severe to those you do command, neither do any thing without good advice and consideration. For all beeit in princes courts every man doth admire and behold the excellency and worthiness of the person, yet are those always that are most in favour of the Prince, more noted, regarded, and sooner accused than others.  
10 If you will not err in the counseils you shall give, nor fail in those things you enterprise: Embrace those that tell you the truth, and reject and hate those, whom you know to be flatterers and dissemblers. For you should rather desire to be admonished of the thing present, then counseled after the damage received.  
Although we suppose assuredly all these things above written are not likely to happen, nor come even so to pass as I have spoken: yet may it please you (sir) to remember they are not therefore impossible. For spiteful fortune permitteth oft times, that the sails which the lightning and boisterous tempests could not break and tear in pieces, are afterwards upon a sudden, (even in the sweet of the morning's sleep, each man taking his rest, leaving the seas before in quiet calm) all to shivered, and torn a sunder. He that meaneth to give another a blow also, the more he draweth back his arm, with greater force he striketh. And even so (neither more nor less) saith fortune with those, on whom for a time she smileth. For the longer a man remaineth in her love and favour, the more cruel and bitter she showeth herself to him in the end. And therefore I would advise every wise and sage person, that when fortune seems best of all to favour him, and to do most for him, that then he should stand most in fear of her, and lest trust her deceits. Therefore (Sir) make no small account of this my book, little though it be. For you know, that doubtless (as experience teacheth us) of greater price & value is a little spark of a Diamond, than a greater ballast. It forceth little that the book be of small or great volume, sith thexcellency thereof consisteth not in the number of leaves, more or less, but only in the good and grave sentences that are amply written therein. For every author that writeth, to make his book of great price and show, aught to be brief in his words, and sweet and pleasant in his matter he treateth of, the better to satisfy the mind of the reader, and also not to be tedious to the hearer. And (Sir) I speak not without cause that you should not a little esteem this small treatise of mine, since you are most assured, that with time all your things shall have end, your friends shall leave you, your goods shallbe divided, yourself shall die, your favour and credit shall dimynish, and those that succeed you, shall forget you, you not knowing to whom your goods and patrimony shall come: and above all, you shall not know what conditions your heirs and children shallbe of. But for this I writ in your Royal history and Chronicle of your laudable virtues and perfections, and for that also I serve you as I do with this my present work, the memory of you shall remain eternised to your Successors for ever. Chilo the philosopher being demanded whether there were any thing in the world that fortune had not power to bring to nought, answered in this sort. Two things only there are, which neither time can consume, nor fortune destroy, and that is: the renown of man written in books, and the verity that is hidden. For although troth for a time lie interred, yet it resurgeth again and receiveth life, appearing manifestly to all. And even so in like case the virtues we find written of a man, do cause us at this present to have him in as great veneration, as those had in his time that best knew him. Read therefore (Sir) at times I beseech you these wittings of mine, allbeeit I fear me you can scant borrow a moment of time with leisure once to look upon it, being (as I know you are) always occupied in affairs of great importance, wherein me thinketh you should not so surcharge yourself, but that you might for your commodyty and recreation of your spirits reserve some private hours to yourself. For sage and wise men should not so burden themselves with care of others toil, that they should not spend one hour of the day at the least (at their pleasure) to look on their estate and condition. As recounteth Suctonius Tranquillus of julius Cesar who notwithstanding his quotydian wars he had, never let slipped one day but that he read, or wrote some thing. So that being in his pavilion in the camp in the one hand he held his lance to assault his enemy, and in the other the pen to write with all, with which he wrote his worthy commentaries. The reasonable man therefore calling to mind the straight account that he must render of himself and of the time he hath lost, shall always be more careful that he lose not his time, than he shallbe to keep his treasure. For the well employed time is a mean & help to his salvation: & the evil gotten good a cause of his eternal damnation. More over yet, what toil and travail is it to the body of the man, & how much more peril to the living soul, when he consumeth his hole days and life in worldly broil: and yet silly man he can not absent himself from that vile drudgery, till death doth summon him to yield up his account of his lief and doings. And now to conclude my prologue, I say this book is divided into two parts: that is to weet: in the first ten chapters is declared how the new come courtier shall behave himself in the prince's court to win favour & credit with the prince: & the surplus of the work treateth, when he hath achieved to his prince's favour, & acquired the credit of a worthy courtier: how he shall then continue the same to his further advancement. And I doubt no whit, but that my lords & gentlemen of court will take pleasure to read it, and namely such as are princes familiars and beloved of court shall mostly reap profit thereby, putting the good lessons & advertisements they find heretofore written, in execution. For, to the young courtiers it showeth them what they have to do: & putteth in remembrance also the old favoured courtier (living in his prince's grace) of that he hath to be circumspect of. And finally I conclude (sir) that of all the treasures, riches, gifts, favours, prosperities, pleasures, services, greatness, & power, that you have & possess in this mortal & transitory life, & by the faith of a christian I swear unto you also that you shall carry no more with you, than the only time which you have well & virtuously employed, during this your pilgrimage.   

¶ The Argument of the book entitled the favoured courtier, where the author showeth the intent of his work, exhorting all men to read and study good and virtuous books utterly rejecting fables and vain trifling stories of small doctrine & erudition.  
AVlus Gelius in his book De noctibus atticis sayeth, that after the death of the great poet Homer, seven famous Cities of Greece were in great controversy one with the other, each one of them affirming, that by reason the bones of the said poet was theirs, and only appertained to them, all seven taking their oaths, that he was not only born, but also nourished and brought up in every one of them. And this they did, supposing that they never had so great honour in any thing, but that this was far greater, to have educated so excellent and rare a man as he was. Euripides also the philosopher, born and brought up in Athens, travailing in the realm of Macedonia, was suddenly stricken with death, which woeful news no sooner came to the Athenians ears, (declared for a troth) but with all expedition they depeached an honourable imbasy, only to entreat the Lacedæmonians to be contented to deliver them the bones of the said philosopher, protesting to them, that if they would frankly grant them, they would regratify that pleasure done them: and if they would deny them, they should assure themselves they would come to demand them with sword in hand. King Demetrius held Rhodes beesyged long time (which at length he wan by force of arms) and the Rhodians being so stubborn that they would not yield by composition, nor trust to his princely clemency, he commanded to strike of all the Rhodians heads, and to raze the city to the hard foundations. But when he was let understand that there was even then in the city Prothogenes, a philosopher and painter, doubting least in executing others, he also unknown might be put to the sword, revoked his cruel sentence, and gave strait commandment forthwith they should cease to spoil and deface the town further, and also to stay the slaughter of the rest of the Rhodiens. The divine Plato being in Athens, advertised that in the city of Damascus (in the realm of Palestine) were certain books of great antiquity, which a philosopher born of that country left beehynd him there: when he understood it to be true, went thither immediately, led with the great desire he had to see them, and purposely (if they did like him) afterwards to buy them. And when he saw that neither at his suit, nor at the requests of others he could obtain them, but that he must buy them at a great price, Plato went and sold all his patrimony to recover them: and his own not being sufficient, he was fain to borrow upon interest of the common treasury to help him. So that notwithstanding he was so profound and rare a philosopher (as in deed he was) yet he would sell all that small substance he had, only to see (as he thought) some pretty new thing more of philosophy. As Ptholomeus Philadelphus' king of Egypt, not contented to be so wise in all sciences as he was, nor to have in his library .8000. books as he had, nor to study at the least .4. hours in the day, nor ordinarily to dispute at his meals with philosophers, sent nevertheless an embassage of noble men to the Ebrews, to desire them they would be contented to send him some of the best learned and wisest men among them, to teach him the Hebrew tongue, & to read to him the books of their laws. When Alexander the great was born, his father king Phillippe wrote a notable letter immediately to Aristottle, & among other matters he wrote there were these. I do thee to weet, O greatest philosopher Aristotle (if thou know'st it not) that Olimpias my wife is brought to bed of a son, for which incessantly I give the gods immortal thanks: not so much that I have a son, as for that they have geeven him me in thy tyme. For I am assured he shall profit more with the doctrine thou shalt teach him: them he shall prevail with the kingdoms I shall leave him after me. Now by the examples above recited, and by many more we cooled allege, we may easily consider, with what reverence and honour the ancient kings used the learned and virtuous men of their tyme. And we may also more plainly see it, sith than they held in greater price and estimation the bones of a dead philosopher, than they do now the doctrine of the best learned of our time. And not without just occasion did these famous & heroical princes joy, to have at home in their houses, & abroad with them in the field, such wise & learned men whilst they lived, & after they were dead to honour their bones and carcases: and in doing this they erred not a jot. For who so ever accompanieth continually with grave & wise men, enjoyeth this benefit and privilege before others, that he shall never be counted ignorant of any. Therefore continuing still our first purpose, let us say, that who so ever will profess the company of sober and wise men, it can not otherwise be, but he must marvelously profit by their comapny. For being in their company they will put all vain and dishonest thoughts from him, they will teach him to subdue and resist all sudden passions and motions moved of choler: by them they shall win good friends, and learn also never to be troublesome or enemy to any, they will make him forsake all sin and vice, declaring to him what good works he shall follow, and what he shall most fly and eschew: they will let him understand how he shall humble and behave himself in prosperity, and they will also comfort him in his adversity, to keep him from all sorrow and despair. For though a man be never so careful and circumspect, yet hath he always need of the council of an other in his affairs, if therefore such person have not about him good virtuous, & sage men, how can it otherways be but that he must stumble oft, and fall down right on his face, having no man to aid or help him. Paulus Diaconus sayeth, that albeit the Africans were wild and brutish people, yet had they withstanding a law amongst them, that the senators amongst them cooled choose no other senator, if at the election there were not present a philosopher. So it happened one day amongst the rest, that of many philosophers they had in Carthage, amongst them was one named Apolonius: Who ruled for the space of three score and two years all their senate with great quiet, and to the contentation of all the senators: which to show themselves thankful to him, erected in the market place so many images of him, as he had governed their common weal years, to the end the fame and memory of him should be immortal: and yet they did dedicate to their famous Hannibal but only one image, and to this philosopher they set up above three score. Alexander the great when he was most bend to bloody wars, went to see and speak with Diogenes the philosopher, offering him great presents, and discoursing with him of divers matters. So that we may justly say, this good prince of himself took pains to seek out wise men to accompany him, electing by others choice and advise all such, as he made his captains to serve him in the wars: It is manifest to all, that Dionysius the Syracusan was the greatest tyrant in the world, and yet notwithstanding his tyranny, it is a wonder to see the sage and wise men he had continually in his court with him: & that, that makes us yet more to wonder of him is, that he had them not about him to serve him, or to profit one jot by their doctrine and council: but only for his honour, and their profit, which enforceth me to say, concurring with this example, that sith tyrants did glory to have about them wise, & worthy men: much more should those rejoice, that in their works and deeds are noble, and free hearted. And this they ought to do, not only to be honoured with them openly, but also to be helped with their doctrine & counsels secretly. And if to some this should seem a hard thing to follow, we will say: that worthy men not being of ability and power to maintain such wise men, ought yet at least to use to read at times, good and virtuous books. For by reading of books, they reap infinite profit, as for example, by reading as I say these good authors, the desire is satisfied, their judgement is quickened idleness is put away, the heart is disburdened, the time is well employed, and they lead their life virtuously, not being bound to render account of so many faults, as in that time they might have committed. And to conclude, it is so good an exercise, as it giveth good examples to the neighbour, profit to himself, and health to the soul. We see by experience, after a man taketh upon him once the study of holy scriptures, and that he frameth himself to be a divine, he will never willingly thenceforth deal in other studies, and all because he will not forego the great pleasure he receiveth to read those holy sayyngs. And that causeth, that we see so many learned and wise men (for the more part) subject to divers diseases, and full of melancholy humours. For so sweet is the delight they take in their books, that they forget and leave all other bodily pleasure: And therefore Plutarch writeth, that certain Philosophers being one day met at the lodging of Plato to see him, and demanding him what exercise he had at that time: Plato answered them thus. Truly my brethren I let you know, that even now my only exercise was to see what the great poet Homer said. And this he told them, because they took him even then reading of some of Homer's books, and to say truly, his answer was such, as they should all look for of him. For to read a good book in effect is nothing else, but to hear a wise man speak. And if this our judgement and advise seem good unto you, we would yet say more, that you should profit more to read one of these books, than you should to hear speak, or to have conference with the author himself that made it. For it is without doubt, that all writers have more care and respect in that their pen doth write, than they have in that their tongue doth utter. And to the end you should not think we can not prove that true that we have spoken, I do you to wit, that every author that will write, to publish his doing in print, to lay it to the show and judgement of the world, and that desireth thereby to acquire honour and fame, and to eternyse the memory of him, turneth many books, conferreth with other wise and learned men, addycteth himself wholly to his book endeavoureth to understand well, oft refuseth sleep, meat and drink, quyckneth his spirits, doing that he putteth in writing exactly with long advise, and consideration: which he doth not, when he doth but only speak and utter them, though oft in deed (by reason of his great knowledge) in speech unwares there falleth out of his mouth, many goodly and wise sentences. And therefore god hath geeven him a goodly gift that can read, and him much more that hath a desire to study, knowing how to choose the good books from the evil. For to say the troth, there is not in this world any state or exercise more honourable, and profitable than the study of good books. And we are much bound to those that read, more to those that study, and much more to those that write any thing, but mostly doubtless to those that make & compile goodly books, & those of great and high doctrine. For there are many vain and fond books, that rather deserve to be thrown in the fire, then once to be read or looked on. For they do not only show us the way to mock them, but also the ready mean to offend us, to see them occupy their brains & best wits they have to write foolish and vain things, of no good subject or erudition. And that that is worst of all yet, they are occasion that divers others spend as much time in reading their jests, and mockries, as they would otherwise have employed in doctrine, of great profit and edifying, the which to excuse and defend their error, say they did not write them for men to take profit thereby, but only to delight and please the readers, to pass the time away merrily. Whom we may rightly answer thus: that the reading of ill and vain books can not be called a pastime, but aptly a very loss of tyme. And therefore Aulus Gellius in the fyfteenth of his book writeth, that after the romans understood the orators and poets of Rome did give themselves to write, vain, voluptuous, and dishonest books, causing interludes, and poetical comedies to be played, they did not only banish them from Rome, but also out of all the parts of Italy. For it he seemed not the roman gravyty, neither was it decent for the weal public, to suffer such naughty books among them, and much less to bear with vicious and lascivious governors. And if the Roman paynims left us this for example, how much more ought we that are christians to continue and follow it, since they had no other books to read save only histories, and we now a days have both histories & holy scriptures to read which were granted us by the church, to the end by the one we might take some honest pleasure and recreation, and with the other procure the health of our souls. O how far is the common wealth now a days dygressed from the we writ and counsel, sense we see plainly, that men occupy themselves at this present, in reading a number of books, the which only to name I am ashamed. And therefore said Aulus Gellius in his forteenth book, that there was a certain philosopher wrote a book of high and eloquent style, but the subject very hard & dyffuse to understand, the which Socrates and other philosophers hearing of, commanded immediately the book to be burned, and the author to be banished, by which example we may well perceive, that in that so perfit and reformed universyty they would not only suffer any lascivious or vicious book, but also they would not bear with those, that were to haughty and vain glorious in their styles, and whose matter were not profitable and beneficial to the public weal. That man therefore that walloweth in idleness lap, and that vouchsafeth not to spend one hour of the day to read a grave sentence of some good book, we may rather deservedly call him a brute beast, than a reasonable creature. For every wise man ought to glory more of the knowledge he hath, then of the abundance of goods he possesseth. And it can not be denied but that those which read virtuous books, are ever had in better favour and estimation than others. For they learn to speak, they pass the time without trouble, they know many pleasant things which they after tell to other, they have audacyty to reprove others: & every man delighteth to hear them, and in what place or company so ever they come, they are always reverenced & honoured above others: every man desireth their knowledge and acquaintance, and are glad to ask them council. And that, that is yet of greater credit to them is, that they are not few in number, that trusteth them with their body and goods. And moreover I say, that the wise and learned man which professeth study, shall know very well how to council his friend, and to comfort himself at all times when need doth serve, which the foolish ignorant person can not do, for he can not only tell how to comfort the afflicted in adversity, but also he can not help himself in his own proper affairs, nor take council of himself what is best to do. But returning again to our purpose, we say, because we would not be reproved of that we rebuke others of, we have been very circumspect and advised, and taken great care and pains in our study, that all our books and works we have published and compiled, should be so exactly done, that the readers might not find any ill doctrine, nor also any thing worthy reproof. For the unhonest books made by lascivious persons do give (deservedly) evident token to the readers to suspect the authors, and troubleth the judgements of those that give attentive ear unto them. And therefore I council, and admonish him that will enterprise and take upon him to be a writer, and setter forth of books, that he be wise in his matter he showeth, and compendious in the words he writeth: and not to be like to divers writers, whose works are of such a phrase and style, as we shall read many times to the midst of the book, ere we find one good and notable sentence, so that a man may say, that all the fruit those reap for their pain, watches, and travail, is no other, but only a mere toy and mockery, they being derided of every man that seeth their works. That author that undertaketh to write, and afterwards prostrateth to common judgement the thing he writeth, may be assured that he setteth his wits to great travail and study, and hasardeth his honour to present peril. For the judgement of men being variable, and divers (as they are in deed) many times they do meddle and enter into judgement of those things, whereof they are not only not capable to understand, but also less skilful to read them. Now in the book we have set out of the dial of princes, & in that other we have translated of the life of the roman emperors, and in this we have now set forth of the favoured courtier, the readers may be assured they shall find in them goodly and grave sentences, whereby they may greatly profit, and they shall not read any words superfluous, to cumber or weighed them at all. For we did not once licence our pen to dare to write any word, that was not first weighed in true balance, and meat by just measure. And God can testify with us, that without doubt we have had more pain to be brief in the words of our books we have hitherto made, than we have had to gather out the invention and grave sentences thereof. For to speak good words, and to have good matter and wise purposes, is the poperty of one that naturally is modest, and grave in his actions: but to write briefly, he must have a deep understanding. When at the font of the printers form we first baptized the book of Marcus Aurelius, we there entitled it the dial of princes, and this therefore that we have now made & added to it, we will call it (for more briefness) the favoured courtier: which portendeth the whetstone and instruction of a courtier. For if they will vouchsafe to read, and take the fruitful councils they find written herein, they may assure themselves they shall awake out of the vanities they have long slept in, and shall also open their eyes, to see the better that thing wherein they live so long deceived. And allbeeyt in deed this present work showeth to you but a few contrived lines, yet god himself doth know, the pains we have taken herein hath been exceeding great, and this for two causes: th'one for that the matter is very strange and divers from others, tother, to think that assuredly it should be hated of those, that want the taste of good discipline. And therefore we have taken great care, it should come out of our hands well refoormed, and corrected: to the end that courtiers might find out many sentences in it profitable for them, and not one word to trouble them. Those noble men or gentlemen that will from henceforth have their children brought up in princes courts, shall find in this cook all things they shall need to provide them of, those also that have been long courtiers, shall find all that they ought to do in court, And such also as are the best favoured of princes, and carry greatest reputation of honour with them, shall find likewise excellent good councils, by mean whereof they may always maintain, and continue themselves, in the chiefest greatness of their credit and favour: so that it may well be called a mitridatical electuary, recuering and healing all malignant oppilations. Of all the books I have hitherto compiled, I have dedicated some of them to the Imperial majesty, & others to those of best favour & credit with him: where the readers may see, that I rather glory to be a satire, than a flatterer, for that in all my sentences they can not find one cloaked word, to enlarge and embitter my credit and estate. But to the contrary, they may read an infinite number of others, where I do exhort them to govern their persons discreetly and honourably, and to amend their lives thenceforth. When I imprinted the dial of princes, together with Marcus Aurelius, and brought them to light, I wanted not backbiters and detractors that beeganne forthwith to tear me in pieces, neither shall I want at this present (as I believe) such as will not spare with venomus tongues to poison my work. But like as than I little weighed their slanderous speeches of me, even so much less do I now force what they can say against me, being assured they shall find in the end, they have ill spoken of me, and my poor works, proceeding from them rather of a certain envy that gnaweth their heart, then of any default they find in my doctrine: comforting myself yet in the assurance I have, that all their spite shall one day have an end, and my works shall ever be found good and perdurable.  
Here endeth the Argument.    

¶ The fourth book of the Dial of Princes, Compiled by the Lord Antony Guevara, bishop of Mondogueto.  

¶ That it is more necessary for the courtier (abiding in court) to be of lively spirit & audacity, than it is for the soldier, that goeth to serve in the wars. Cap. i.  
PLutarch, Pliny, and Titus Livius declare, that king Agiges one day requested the oracle of Apollo to tell him, who was the happiest man in the world, to whom answer was made that it was a man they called Aglaon, be known of the gods, and unknown of men. This king Agiges making then search for this man through all Greece, who was called Aglaon, found at length that it was a poor gardener dwelling in Arcadia, who being of the age of three score years and two, never went above a mile from his house, keeping himself and his family continually with his only labour and tillage of his garden. Now all be it there were in the world of better parentage and lineage than he, better accompanied of servants and tenants, better provided of goods and riches, higher in dignity, and of greater authority than he: yet for all this, was this Aglaon the happiest of the world. And this was, for that he never haunted princes courts, neither by envy to be overthrown, nor yet by avarice to be overcome. For many times it chanceth to men, that when they would least give themselves to acquaintance, then come they most to be known, and when they make least account of themselves, then cometh there an occasion to make them to be most reputed of. For they win more honour, that despise these goods, honours, and riches of this world: then those do, that continually gape, and seek after the same. And therefore we should more envy Aglaon with his little garden, then Alexander the great with his mighty Asia. For true contentation consisteth not in having abundance, but in being contented with that little he hath. It is a mockery, and worthily he deserveth to be laughed at, that thinketh contentation lieth in having much, or in being of great authority: for such ways are readier to make us stumble, yea and many times to fall down right, then safely to assure us to go on our way.  
The punishment that God gave to Cain for murdering of his brother Abel was, that his body continually trembled, and he ever after wandered through the world: so that he never found ground where he might enhabyt, nor house where he might herber. And albeit this malediction of Cain was the first that ever god ordained, I durst affirm notwithstanding that it remaineth as yet until this present day amongst courtiers, sith we see them daily travail and run into strange countries, daily changing and seeking new lodgings. Which maketh me once again to say, that Aglaon was counted happy, & for that only he never roamed far from his house. For to say truly, there is no misery comparable to that of the courtier, that is bound daily to lie in others houses, having none of his own to go too. And he only may be called happy, that putteth not himself in danger to serve others. julius Cesar being counseled to wait upon the consul Silla, to the end that by serving or being about him he might do himself great good, and it might be very profitable to him, answered thus. I swear by the immortal gods I will never serve any, on hope to be more worth, and greater than I am. For this I am sure of, that where liberty is exiled, there might nor power can prevail.  
He that forsaketh his own country where he lived at ease, and in health, and the place where he was known and beloved, the neighbours of whom he was visited, the friends of whom he was served, the parents of whom he was honoured, the goods wherewith he maintained himself, his wife and children (of whom he had a thousand pleasures and consolations) and that cometh to serve and die in the court: I can not say otherwise of him, but that he is a very fool, or that he cometh to do penance for some notable crime he hath committed. And therefore not without great cause was this name of court (which in our tongue signifieth short) adhibited to the palace of princes, where all things in deed are short, only envy and malice excepted, which continue long. He only desireth to be a courtier, that as yet hath not tasted the sweetness and pleasure of his own house, nor hath yet proved and seen the troubles and pains of the court. For he that knoweth them, sigheth when he is called to the court, and weary when he is kept long there. I have studied in times passed in the universities, preached in the court, praying in religion: and now I dwell upon my byshopryck, teaching and Instructing my dyocessans: but I dare say, of all these four states recited, there is none so straight, and painful, as is to follow the court. If I studied at the universyty, I did it of free will to be wiser: but only in the court I spent my time, to be more worth than I was. But the greatest time I consumed in religion, was to say my prayers, and to beewayle my grievous sins. In the court I only gave myself to suspect my neighbour, and invented to build great castles of wind (with thought) in the air. And therefore I return once again to say, that it is a greater trouble to become a courtier, then to be a religious person. For in religion it sufficeth to obey one: but in the court he must serve all. And in religion also they are apparelled with less cost and charges, and to the greater contentation of the person, than they are in the court. For a poor gentleman courtier is bound to have more change and suits of apparel, than the falcon feathers. The religious persons go always to dinner, and find their meat on the table ready prepared for them, without any thought taken of their part what they shall have: but fine courtiers many times rise out of their bed, without ever a penny in their purse. And allbeeit religious persons all their life take great pains in rising at midnight to serve god: yet have they great hope after their death, of the heavenly rest and comfort: but poor courtiers, alas what should I say, hard is their life, and more perilous their death, into greater danger truly putteth he himself that becometh a courtier, than did Nasica when he was with the serpent, than king David with the Phylistiens, than the Soothsayers with Eva, than Hercules with Antheon, than Theseus with the Minotawre, than king Menelaus with the wild boar, than Corebus with the monster of the marysh, and then Perseus with the monstruous whale of the sea. For every one of these valiant men were not afraid but of one: but the miserable courtier standeth in fear of all. For what is he in court, that seeing his near kinsman or dearest friend, more in favour or credit than himself, or richer than he, that wisheth not his friends death, or at the least procureth by all means he can, he shall not equal, nor go even with him in credit or reputation. One of the worst things I consider and see in courtiers is, that they lose much time, and profit little: For the thing wherein they spend their days, and beestow the night's for the more part is, to speak ill of those that are their betters, or excel them in virtues: and to undo those that are their equals and companions: to flatter the beloved, and among the inferior sort to murmur one against an other, and always to lament and sigh for the times past.  
And there is nothing that provoketh courtiers more to complain, than the daily desire they have to see sundry and new alterations of tyme. For they little way the ruin of the common weal, so they may enlarge and exalt their own estates. Also it is a thing of course in court, that the rejected and favorlesse couctyers' shoal togethers, murmuring at their princes, and backbiting their counsellors and officers, saying they undo the realm, and bring all to nought. And all this presupposed, for that they are not in the like favour and estimation that they be in, which beareth office and rule in the common weal. And therefore when it cometh in question for a courtier to advance himself, and to come in credit in the court, one courtier can scarcely ever trust an other. On tother side, me thinketh that the life of the court is not the very life in deed, but rather an open penance. And therefore in my opinion, we should not reckon courtiers alive, but rather dead, buried in their life. For then the courtier ever findeth himself panged with deaths extreme passions, when he perceiveth an other to be preferred and called before him. Alas, what great pity it is to see a hapless and unfortunate courtier, for he silly soul awaketh a thousand times in the night, tosseth from side to side of his bed, sometime upright he lieth, lamenting his Iron hap, now he sigheth for his native soil, and sorroweth then for his lost honour: so that in manner he spendeth the whole night in watch and cares, imagining with himself all ways he can, to come in credit and favour again, that he may attain to wealth and preferment before others, which maketh me think, that it is not a pain, but a cruel torment: no service but tribute: & not once only, but ever: that the body of the poor miserable courtier abideth and that (in despite of him) his wretched heart doth bear. By the law of the court, every courtier is bound to serve the king, to accompany the beloved of court, to visit noble men, to wait upon those that are at the princes elbow, to give to the ushers, to present the auditors, to entertaigne the wardens and captains of the ports, to currey favour with the harbingers, to flatter the treasurers, to travail and speak for their friends, & to dissemble amongst their enemies. What legs are able to do all these things? what force sufficient to abide these brunts? what heart able to endure them? and more over what purse great enough to supply all these devices? I am of opinion there was never any so foolish, nor merchant so covetous, that hath sold himself in any fair, or corst himself for any other merchandise, but only the unhappy courtier, who goeth to the court to sell his liberty, for a little wind and vain smoke of the court. I grant that a courtier may have in the court plenty of gold and silver, sumptuous apparel, favour, credit, and authority: yet with all this abundance ye can not deny me, but he is as poor of liberty, as rich of substance or credit. And therefore I dare boldly say this word again, that for one time the courtier hath his desire in court, a thousand times they will enforce him to accomplish others desires, which neither please nor like him. Surely it cometh of a base and vile mind, and no less cowardly, for any man lightly to esteem his liberty, and fond to embrace bondage and subjection, being at others commandment. And if the courtier would answer me to this, that though he serve, yet at least he is in his princes favour. I would reply thus, though he be in favour with the prince, yet is he notwithstanding slave to all his other officers. For if the courtier will sell his horse, his moil, his cloak, his sword, or any other such like whatsoever he shall have ready money for all, saving for his liberty, which he liberally bestoweth on all for nothing. So that he seemeth to make more estimate of his sword, or apparel he selleth, than he doth of his liberty which he giveth. For a man is not bound to travail at all, (to make himself master of others) more than pleaseth him: but to recover liberty, or to maintain it, he is bound to die a thousand deaths. I speak not these things for that I have read them in my books, but because I have seen them all with mine eyes: and not by science, but by experience: and I never knew courtier yet content in court, much less enjoying any jot of his liberty, which I so much esteem, that if all men were sufficient to know it, and knew well how to use it, he would never for any treasure on earth forego it, neither for any gage lend it, were it never so precious. Yet is there in court besides this an other kind of trouble I have not yet touched, and that is not small. For oft times thither cometh of our friends which be strangers, whom of necessity, and for honesties sake, the courtier must lodge with him at home, the court being all ready full pestered. And this happeneth oft in such a time, when the poor courtier hath neither lodging of his own, to lodge them in: nor happily two pence in his purse to welcome them with all. I would you would tell me also, what grief and sorrow the poor courtier feeleth at his heart, when he lodgeth in a blind narrow lane, eateth at a borrowed table, sleepeth in a hired bed, his chamber having no door to it, yea and forth more part his apparel and armour, even to the very sword in gage. Then when any friend of his cometh out of the country to lie with him he being so poor, and also a stranger in another man's house: how is it possible he should accept into his company any others, and perhaps as needy as he? Sometimes he were better, & had rather bear his friends costs, and charges (being altogether unable) yea and find him all his necessaries (what shift so ever he made) than he should suffer his friend or stranger to come home to his house to know and see the misery he liveth in. For more is the honest heart and good nature ashamed and grieved to discover his misery, than it is to suffer and abide it. Commonly the courtier being alone is content with a little couch, one mattress or quilt, one flockbed, with one pillow, and one payr of sheets, with one coverlet, with one frieng pan, one gridyerne, one spit, one kettle one basin, with one candelstick, and with one pot, which he can not do, if any stranger or friend of his come to him, for than he must for his reputation sake hang his chamber, dress up his bed, and furnish it better, and must also provide for a thousand other such trifles he standeth in need of. And if it fall out his host and goodman of the house will not lend him these things, or that perhaps he hath them not (as it chanceth oft) he shallbe compelled to borrow upon a gage, or to hire of others: whereas if he were alone with his own people, he would right well be contented with his small ordinary. And when a stranger cometh to see him, he must be at greater cost and charges: so that he shall spend more at one dinner, or supper, than he had done before in three days. And therefore doubtless the courtiers are at more charges with their friends that come to see them, than they are with themselves. For the honourable and worthy courtiers had rather fast an other time, than to show himself at this pinch needy and hard, and to be mocked of his acquaintance. O, how many men are there in the world that spend in one day all that they have traveled to get togethers in many? not for that they esteem not their goods, & desire not to keep then: but only for a little vain glory, to get them the name of a free hearted & liberal man, dealing honestly among his friends. Also as  is the trouble to the poor courtier when the court removeth oft from place to place. For then he must truss up his baggage, load the moils, & higher carts to carry it, afterwards pray the cofferer to pay him, the harbingers to prepare him a lodging, and then he must first send one of his men to see if the lodging be meet for him: furthermore courtiers have occasion oft-times to be angry with the carters and muletters, for loading to much or to little, and for coming too late to the lodging, & many times also they must tide at noon days, and in the greatest heat and sometimes in rain, dew, tempest, or in other ill weather (what so ever it be) for that the carters and carriers will not lose their journey. And admit that all this may be easily carried, is it therefore reasonable, or meet, the poor courtier should spend at one viage or removing of the court, all the profit & spare he hath made in sir months before? And what shall we say also, of the stuff and movables that the poor courtier of necessity must buy in every place where the court remaineth, as chairs, tables, forms, stools, water pots, platters, dishes, and other small trasshery that would cost more the carriage, than the buing of them a new. and to conclude, all things pertaining to court are painful, unpleasant, and chargeable for the poor courtier. For if he should carry always with him, all such things as be necessary, and that he should need: in carriage they are broken or marred, or being left beehind, they are in hazard to be stolen or lost. For he that will be a continual courtier, must be of a bold and stout courage. For he shalbeee forced hourly to leave of his own desires, to please and content others, changing and shifting to diverse places and strange lodgings, and oft-times, of servants and new family, daily increasing his charge and expense. And truly if that which is gotten and gained in court be worth much: much more doth that exceed that is spent in court, and these expenses are rather lavish, then moderate: disordered, then well spent, for in effect courtiers spend more, with strangers they receive into their lodgings, than they do with their ordinary servants they keep. Albeit that, that courtiers lose and leave beehind them at every removing of the court be but of small account or importance, yet is it notwithstanding both grief, and displeasure to them. For in deed there is no house so richly furnished, and replenished with movables, but that the lord or master of the house will chase to see a dish or glass broken, or spoiled. Yet there is an other discomodity in removing of the court, for some courtiers there are that be so poor, that for want they can hardli follow the court, and others also that are rich, are compelled to bear many of their charges with whom they are in company with by the way: and some of those are so rude, & ill brought up, that they had rather bear their charge all their journey, than once again to have them in their company. But a godsname what shall we say yet of the wretched courtier whose coffers, and horse are arrested at his departing for his debts? Truly I lie not, for once I saw a courtier's moil sold for her provender she had eaten, & that money not sufficient to pay the host: the courtier remaining yet debtor of an overplus, the poor man was stripped even of his cap and gloves for satisfaction of the rest. Also there is an other sort of needy courtiers, so troublesome, and importune, that they never cease to trouble their friends, to borrow money of their acquaintance, some to find themselves, some to apparel themselves, others to pay their dets, others to play, and others to give presents so that at the removing day, when they have nothing wherewith to pay nor content their crediters, then are they sued in law, and arrested in their lodging, and the credyters many times are not satisfied with their goods, but take execution also of their bodies, laying them in fast prison, till they be paid and satisfied of their whole debt. O what a folly may be thought in those, that cannot moderate their expenses according to their ability? For to say uprightly, he should cut his garments according to his cloth, and measure his expenses with his revenues, and not following his affection and desire. For the gentleman, or courtier, in the end hath not the mean nor commodity to spend as the country man hath, that liveth at home at ease in his country, & spendeth such commodities as he brings into his house, but the courtier consumeth in court not his own alone, but also that of others. And therefore in court or else where, let every wise man be diligent to bring his affairs to end: but yet let him so moderate and use his expenses, as he shall not need, nor be driven to mortgage and gage that he hath. For he that feasteth, and rowteth with others purse of that that is lent him, cannot choose but in the end he must break, and deceive his crediters. Therefore all worthy men that love their honour, and fear reproach, ought rather to suffer hunger, cold, thirst, care, pain and sorrow: then to be had in the check roll, of riotous and prodigal spenders, trustless of their promise, and suspected of their words. There is yet an other great trouble in the court of princes, and that is the exceeding dearth of victuals, the unreasonable want of houses, and the great price of horses, for many times they spend more for straw, and litter for their horse, than they do in other places for hay, oats, and bread. And further if the courtier be a poor gentillman, and that he would feast and banquet his friends or companions, he shall spend at one dinner or supper somuch that he shallbe constrained to fast a hole week after. Therefore if the courtier willbe well used in following of the court, he must not only know, and speak too, but also love, and invite at times the bouchers, victuallers, fruterers, keepers, and softers, Fishmongers, and poulterers, and other purveyors of the same, of whom he shall always have as much need of his provision, as he shall have of the judges, to show him justice when he shall need it. For meat, bread, wine, wood hay, oats, & straw, are commonly very dear in court: For few of all these things are to be bought in court, but of others infinite things to be sold, to profit and gain the poor courtiers, that else had no shift to live. And yet is there a little more trouble in court, and that is, that continually letters are sent to the courtier from his friends, to obtain of the prince or his counsel his dispatch in his private affairs, or for his servants or tenants, or other his friends. And many times these suits are so ill welcome to the courtier, that he had rather have pleasured his friend with a piece of money, than they should have laid upon him so weighty a matter. And besides this there is yet an other trouble, that the bringet of the letter must needs lie at the courtier's house attending his dispatch, so that the courtier delaying his friends business, augmenteth his grief, and keeping the messenger there, increaseth his charge. And if perchanse his business be not dispatched, and the suit obtained, those that wrote to him will not think he left it of, for that Bee would not do it or take pains therein: but for that he wanted favour and credit, or at least were very negligent in following their cause. And that that vexeth them thoroughly yet is, that their parents and friends ween (which are in the country far from court) that this courtier hath all the courtiers at his commandment, that he may say, and do what he will there. And therefore his friends, when they have occasion to employ him in court, and that they write to him touching their affairs, and that he hath now taken upon him the charge and burden of the same, seeing himself after unable to discharge that he hath enterprised, and can not as he would satisfy his friends expectation: then he falleth to despair, and wisheth he had been dead when he first took upon him this matter, and that he made them believe he could go through with that they had committed to him, being unpossible for him, having small credit and estimation amongst the nobility and counsellors.  
Therefore I would never council him that hath brethren, friends, or other near kynsfolks in court, to go seek them out there, albeeyt they had matters of great weight and importance, on hope to be dispatched the sooner by their credit, favour, and suit: and for this cause, for that in court there is ever more privy malice, and Envy then in other places: wherefore they can not be revenged one of the other, but must tarry a time, and then when they see opportunity, they set in foot to overthrow, and secretly to put back their enemies suit. Now lo, these things, and other infinite plagues do light on these poor unfortunate courtiers, incredible happily to any but the old and experienced courtier. If the old and wise courtier would count all the favours and mischances, the dearth and abundance, the friendships and enmities, the contentation and displeasures, & the honour & infamy he hath endured in the court, I believe assuredly we should not be a little sorry for that body that had suffered somuch, but much more for that heart that had abidden all those storms and broils. When the courtier seeth that he is not hard of the prince, nor spoken to of the beloved & favoured of the court, and that the treasurer doth not dispatch him, & the cofferer keep back his wages, it is a misery to see him, & on the other side a pleasure and pastime to here what he says, cursing the wretched life of this world. And even then in his heat and rage he teareth and blasphemeth god, and swears accursedly, that thenceforth he will forsake the vain abuses of court, and leave also the trompries of the deceitful world, avowing to enclose himself in precinct of religious wales, & to take upon him also religious habit. Alas if I fetched as many sighs for my sins, as courtiers do for their mishaps and disgraces: what a number would they come to? For a courtier, incontinent that he feeleth himself sick, that he is alone, and rejected of his friends in court, he beecometh so heavy and pensive, that with his deep sighs he priceth the heavens on high: and with his flowing tears he moisteth the earth beelowe: So that a man might more easily number the troubles of the stout and harby Hercules, than those which the courtier daily suffereth. And besides those many we have recited, yet further, these also we can recite, that their servants rob them, their purseberers consume their money, jesters and counterfeit knaves lie ever upon their reward, woomen pick their purses, and strumpets and bawds spoil them of all. But what shall I say more to you. If the poor courtier be full of feathers, every man plumes him: but if he want whings, there is no man hasty to plume him: and to conclude, in princes court you shall find no such trade of life, whereby you may satisfy every man. For if the courtier speak little, they will say he is but a fool, & if he be to large of tongue, they will say he is a glorious fool, if he be free in expenses, they will say he is a prodigal fool, if he be scarce of his purse, they will say he is a covetous miser, if he be alone, and solitary at home, they will account him an hypocrite: and if he visit others oft, they will say he is a bold and troublesome man, if he have any train of men following on him, they will say he is a proud man: and if he go without company, that he is poor, and miserable. So that of court, this may rightly be said. That it is a very theather, where one mocketh and grinneth at an other, and yet in the end they (all in manner) find themselves scorned and deceived. Now discursing also of sleep, doth the courtier always sleep as much as he will? no sure, but as much as he may. And touching his meat, hath he always that he liketh? no truly: but he is forced to be contented with that he hath. And as for his apparel, is he clothed according to his wise no no: but according to others fancies. O unhappy courtier, that spendith the most part of his miserable life, in coming his head, washing his beard, wearing fair and brave hose, varnishing his sword & dagger, blacking his boots, providing him of cloaks, buying him caps, furring him gowns, and sitting himself with other small & needful trifles: wasting in them all his own goods, and that of his friends. I am not of that mind & opinion that others are, that say there are none in so great liberty as courtiers be, which should not be said, & much less credited, sith we see by daily proof: if they be in service, they are as slaves. If they be not in service with the king, or other nobleman, they live in poor estate. Now let every man say what he will: where poverty reigneth, there liberty can have no place. And there is nothing in the world hearer, than that we buy with entreaty & not with m●ny. And therefore we must confess, that princes courts are meeter to exercise the youth, then for the aged to live there without rest. For young men have more hardiness, to away with the pains and troubles of the court: then they have years, to seek the griefs and displeasures they receive thereby. Now go to the court that list, procure office & authority that will: for hither to I never met or spoke with man that was contented with the court. For if he be crept in favour he feareth every hour to fall, and lose his credit, if ever he be once out of favour, & in disgrase, he despaireth he shall never return again into favour, and if he that goeth to the sea committeth himself first to god before he take ship: much more ought he to do it that goeth to dwell in court: For in the sea, of a C, ships there do not perish ten: but in the court, of a .1000. courtiers, there cometh not three in favour.   

¶ Of courtier's brawls and quarrels with the harbingers for ill lodging. Cap. two.  
AFter Lucullus the roman his return from Asia, in an oration he made before the senate, he said thus: I swear unto you by the Imortal gods (father's conscript) that in all this my journey I felt no pain, nor trouble, neither for the conduct and government of mine army, nor for the rebellion of the people, nor for the absence of my friends, nor for the war of the enemies, neither for the long time, nor yet for the peril of my life. For all these things are incident to soldiers and men of war, and common to rulers in peace. But if you be desirous to know what was my trouble, and that that grieved me most, it was on the remembrance of the quiet rest I had at home. For as you know right well (sacred senate) during the time a man lodgeth in other men's houses he is never at liberty. And this word of Lucullus me thinketh every courtier might well apply to himself, for that he is always bound to do service to the master of the house where he lodgeth, yea although he receive a 1000 injuries of him, yet therefore it is not lawful for him to anger or displease him in any thing. therefore in very ill and unlucky hour is the courtier arrived, when he must take his journey in stead of rest, travail for quietness, misery for abundance, bondage for liberty, and pain for pleasor, and albeit courtiers abide many pains and troubles, yet this me thinketh is the greatest, and lest tolerable, when they must be lodged: reasoning of the pains, displeasures, fortunes, and mishaps that men suffer, little is that my pen doth write herein, and much less that my tongue doth speak in comparison of that the woeful heart doth bide. O how many things are there, that are felt even as the very bottom of the heart, and yet dare not the tongue once utter them? Truly how poor a house so ever the courtier hath in the country, he should more esteem it, than the best lodging that ever he met with in court, or else where. For at home, he doth and commandeth all that he will: But in an other man's house, he must take that is geeven him. A pilgrim or traveller shall come into a city, where he shall see fair & goodly churches; stately buildings, rich gates, high walls, pavid streets, large market places, provision enough, abundance of vittells, and numbers of strangers, and when he hath seen all this, he doth so little esteem of them, that to return again to his poor home, he traveleth though it be all the night. And therefore we should not wonder at those, that do not greatly stray from their house, and that are but seldom in many places: but we might well have him in suspicion, that continually wandereth through strange countries and houses. For notwithstanding the great wonders he seeth, and the great conversation of amity that he hath or can find, yet in the end they are only the eyes that are fed with the sight of others things, & not the heart that is contented with his own, and also to see in princes courts great treasure & riches brings us commonly more grief than delight. And the more his eye is fed with view of the fair dames of court & princely pomp thereof, the greater sorrow assaulteth his heart, he may not still enjoy the same. And therefore the Renowned Fotion, the Athenian captain, answered once certain men that said there were to be sold in the market place of Athens goodly stones, & rich jewels woorthi the sight, howbeit hard to be bought, being held at so high a price by the merchant that sold them. From my first youth (said this philosopher) I made an oath: never to go see any city, unless it were to conquer it, & yield it subject to me: nor to go see jewels, that I could not buy. The great emperor trajan was much commended, for that he never took toy in his head to go see any thing, but for one of these three causes, to weet: either to imitate that he saw, to buy it, or else clearly to conquer it. O worthy words of Fotion, and trajan, & very meet to be noted & retained. Now to speak more particularly of the troubles daily heaped on their necks that follow court, & that are to be lodged in divers places, and strange houses, I say: that if the poor courtier do departed at night from the court to repair to his lodging, he findeth oft times the host of his house, and other his guests at home, already in their beds, and fast asleep: so that it happeneth sometimes, he is fain to go seek his bed in an other place for that night. And also if he should rise early in the morning to follow his matters, or to wait upon his lord our master, his host perhaps and his howsehold are not yet awake, nor slurring to open him the door. And further if his host be angry & displeased, & out of time: who shall let him to lock his doors, the day once shut in? and who should compel him to open his doors before broad day? Truly it is a great hap to be well lodged about the court, & much more to meet with an honest host. For it happeneth oft, that the great pleasure and contentation we receive, being lodged in a fair lodging is lightly taken from us, by the hard entreaty and strait usage of the host of the same, And in this is apparent, the vanity, fondness, and lightness of some courtiers, that rather desire, & seek for a fair & pleasant lodging: then for a good, and profitable. The ambition of the courtier is now grown to so great a solely, that he desireth rather a fair lodging for his pleasure, than a commodious or profitable for his family. For admit the harbinger do give them a good and commodious lodging, if it be not sightly to the eye, & stand commodiously, they can not like of it by no means. So that to content them, the fouriers must needs provide them of a fair lodging to the eye, though little handsome to lodge in: and yet sometimes they will hard & scant be pleased with that. And if the courtier be of reputation, and beloved in court, I pray you what pain and trouble shall the poor harbinger have to content his mind, and to continue in his favour? For beefor master courtier willbe resolved which of the ii lodgings he will take, the fair and most honourable, or the mean & most profitable, he bleedeth at the nose for anger, and his heart beats and leaps a thousand times in his body. For his person would have the good, and commodious lodging: & his folly, the pleasant, & fair. I never saw dead man complain of his grave, nor courtier content with his lodging. For if they give him a hall, he will say it wanteth a chimney, if they give him a chamber, he will say it lacketh an inner chamber, if they give him a kitchen, he will say it is to low, & smoky, and that it wanteth a larder, if they give him a stable, that it wanteth a expense or storehouse, if they give him the best: & chiefest parts of the house, yet he saith he wanteth small & little houses of office, & if he have access to the well, he must also have the commodity of the base court. And in fine, if they give him a low paved hall, to cool & refresh him in summer, he will also have a high boarded chamber for the winter, & possible he shall not have so many rooms at home in his own house, as he will demand in his lodging abroad. And therefore many things suffereth the courtier in his own house, that he will not bear with all in an inn or an other man's house. And it may be also, that the harbingers have provided them of a fair & goodly lodging, where he shall command, both master, Stuff, and all other things in the house, & yet the courtier shall mislike of it, finding fault it is to far from the court, & reputeth it half a dishonour & impayr of his credit to be lodged so far of, since others that are beloved, & in favour in court in deed, lie hard adjoining to the court, or at the least not far of. For this is an old said troth, the nearest lodged to the court commonly the best esteemed of the prince. I have seen many courtiers offer large gifts, & rewards, to entreat the harbingers to lodge them near the court: but I never saw any that desired to be lodged near the church, & this cometh, for that they rather glory to be right courtiers, than good christians. And therefore Blondus reciteth in his book De declinatione imperii that a grecian called Narsetes, (a captain of justinian the great) was wont to say oft, that he never remembered he went to the sea, nor entered into the palace, nor began any battle, nor counceled of wars nor mounted a horse back, but that first he went to the church & served god. And therefore by the doings & saiyng of Narsetes we may gather that every good man ought rather to incline to be a good christian, them to give himself to arms and chivalry to be a right courtier. It happeneth many times, that after the courtier be come to his lodging, he liketh of it well, and is well pleased with all: but when he hath been in others lodgins, & hath looked upon them, strait way he falleth out of liking of his own, and thinketh himself il lodged to others. And this misliking groweth not of his ill lodging, but of an inward malice & spite he hath, to see his enemy preferred to a better than his own. For such is the secret hate, & envy, in prince's court, (a thing common to courtiers) that they disdain not only to thank the harbingers for their care taken of them, in placing them in good lodgings: but they must also complain, and speak ill of them, for the good lodgings they have geeven to their adversaries, and companions, better than that of theirs. There is also a fowl disorder in court among the harbingers, in appointing lodgings: and little modesty besides in courtiers in ask them. For such there are, that many times, neither they, nor their parents have any such lodgings at home in their own houses, as they will demand only for their horsekeepers, & servants. But the great pain of the court is yet, that such novels as come newly to court, they say they are of great estimation in the country, rich, and of an ancient house, and his father of great authority and estimation, and when the troth is known, his father's authority and first estimation was, of good labourers, & husbandmen, their only rents and revenues consisting in that they got, by the daily sweat & labour of their persons: and their power and ability, in the rents of an other man's goods: and their liberty, in service & subjection of those that gave them wages, and hired them by the day. And I would to god their blood were not tainted with some other notable blot. There is a plague also in the court, which always dureeth, and never leaveth court, and that is: that those that are always least worth, and of least calling, do presume & take upon them most, & also are worst to please of all others. And this they do (their power being small) that they would supply that in words & countenance, which they want in deeds and effects. I lie, if I saw not once in the county of Aragone, a gentleman that hired a whole house, where himself and his family were very well lodged and commodiously: & after that I remembered I met with him in Castilia, where he could not content himself with the change of eight houses, besides his first he was appointed to: and the occasion was, for that in Arragon he paid for that house he had, and for these he paid nothing. So of others purse every man coveteth to show his magnificence, and to declare his follies: but when they deffray their own charge, they are hard as flint, and go as near to work as may be. It is very true, that if there be any disorder & trouble to be lodged in the court, it cometh also for the most part of the harbingers, without whom the courtiers could never be well lodged, although the prince had commanded they should be lodged, near him. Albeit in the court a man may easy exempt himself from the prince's council, & justice of the same, having no suits there, and from the council and affairs of wars being no captain: From the synod of the spiritualty, being no ecclesiastical person: and from that of the Indians, going to no Magicians: from the convention of merchants, keeping safely their merchandise: & from the correction of the lord high marshal of the court, not being foolish & insolent: yet nevertheless there is no courtier (be he never so high or great in favour) that can avoid himself from the harbingers authority, but he must needs come under his lee, being in their power to dispose the lodgis as they think good: to lodge them honourably or meanly, to please or displease them, to lodge or dislodge them. And if the courtier hap at any time to quarrel or fall out which then: I warrant him he shallbe remembered of the harbingers in his lodging, and possibly a horsekeeper, (yea perhaps his enemy) shallbe better lodged than he, or else he may seek his lodging in the streets where he shall. For all other injuries or offences done in court, whatsoever, the courtier may easily redress them by justice, but for those he receiveth of the harbinger, he must take them quietly, and be contented with them. For otherwise we should not only offend them, but injure ourselves, and make them to provide us of no lodging: so hereby we should utterly be dislodged, and unprovided. And therefore they do bear with many things in that office, which they would not do in any other office: as for example. Those kind of officers must be much made of, of others well entreated, accompanied, feasted, flattered, followed, yea and many times served and waited upon. I mean in serving their turn, anointing their hands, and always inritching their gloves with some piece of gold and silver, and alas, the silly courtier that hath not such sovereign ointment in his box, to cure these above recited sores, but only to serve his own turn: if he be not his kinsman, or near allied, let him yet at least get acquainted with him, & make him his friend, an esye thing to bring to pass, if he do not vex him nor give him thwart language, & sometimes he must invite him to dinner & supper. For in the court there is no goodness gotten, neither by the king, by the beloved, by the noble men, by the honourable of his council, treasurers, nor yet by the harbingers, but in suffering them, & doing them always good & acceptable service. And if percase the harbingers wrong you, & do you displeasure, or that they should say you were troublesome and importunate: yet be you wife to bear with them in any case, and seem not to hear them. For what loseth the courtier, if he bore now and then with a few crooked words at the harbingers hands? marry by forbearing them, he haply cometh to be lodged the better. Suppose the courtier be not always lodged to his mind and desire, should he immediately complain of them or murmur at them? no sure, he should but so doing show himself of small education. For what skilleth it though among many pounds of good meat, the boucher sometime mingle a morsel of liver, longs, or lights of the beast. And therefore a man should not blame the poor harbingers somuch as they doth. For they are not commanded of the king to build new lodgings, but such as they are, to divide them amongst the train of his court: So that they lodge courtiers in such as they find, & not in those they would, adding thereto that they have regard to their estates & demerits, & not to the affections & wills of the persons they lodge. For it were more reason, they should appoint the greatest & best lodgings, to the noblest personages & the oldest servants of court, then to the late & new come courtier: whose youth can better away with an ill night's lodging, then the grey hears of the old courtier. Otherwise, the service of the old courtier that hath spent his young years in prince's court (to the great pain & trouble of their persons) & in his service, should for guerdon be paid with ingratitude, if he should not be preferred to the best commodious lodging for his ease & also the first to be advanced by the prince before the young serviture. Now if it be honest & reasonable that the harbinger have great consideration to the merits of him that he lodgeth, even so it is fit the courtier should way the press of the court, and incomodious place where the harbingers are constrained to lodge them: knowing that to day the court removeth to such a place where there are happily six thousand houses: and to morrow perhaps there are not a thousand, therefore if in such a place he find but narrow fustien to make him a doublet: let him take patience till such time they remove to an other place, where they shall find broad cloth enough, to make them large cloaks.   

¶ How the courtier should entreat his host or master of the house where he lieth. Cap. iii.  
THe good and civil courtier must also entreat his host well where he lieth: for else if he come in to his lodging braling & threatening, it may be, that beside he he will keep his heart and good cheer secret from him, he will not not also open his chamber doors to him. There are in the court such hare brains, and undiscreet persons, that have so little regard and respect to their honest hosts, that they do nothing in their lodgings, but revel and keep ill rule, and do even what they list, as though the house were theirs to command, and not given them only for lodging. Whereof springs two exceeding evils, the one that they offend god: and the other that the prince is also ill served. For the house is not geeven them to command, but only appointed for them to lodge in. We read in the life of the emperor Severus that he ordained in Rome, that if the owner of the house did entreat his gest and stranger ill, or that he did him hurt or displeasure, the stranger should accuse him before the justice, but in no wise brawl nor quarrel with him in his own house. Plutarch in his politics also reciteth, that in the temples of the gods, in the realm of Dace, there was no liberty or safety for malefactors, save in their own proper houses, which served them for their only refuge and inviolable assurance, for they thought that within the entry and gates of the same, none other but the lords and masters of the house might pretend any jurisdiction or signory. Now if among the Daces no officer or justice could lay hold or punish any man, so long as he kept his house: me thinketh it is against all reason, and humanity, that the courtier should once offer his host an injurious or unseemly word. Plato being one day reproved of his friends, for that he would not rebuke his host Denis the Syracusan, who at the first received him very courteously, and afterwards used him ill, answered them thus. My friends, to be angry with fools that show us pleasure, to take revenge of children whom we have brought up, to beat a woman with whom we must be familiar, and to brave and brawl with those in whose houses we are lodged, neither the philosophers of Greece ought to council him, nor the noble heart once to think to do it. I can not deny, but that there are some hosts very rude and uncivil, that it is in manner an impossible thing to bring him to any honesty or civility. Howbeit notwithstanding I would wish the noble and worthy courtier to take in jest, all the wrongs and injuries done or said to him by his host, or at the least to seem as though he heard them not all: otherwise, from that day the courtier falleth out with him, he may even withal think presently to departed his house, and to seek him a new lodging: for he can never be quiet in his lodging, where the goodman of the house and he cannot agree. And where so ever the fine courtier shall lodge, let him never stick at the charges of a lock to his chamber door a hatch to the window, a degree or ii to the stairs, a rope for the well, a hearth to the chimney, nor for a casement to the window, for these are but trifles, & they cost little, though he leave them to the house: yet with those trifles he bindeth his host, & makes him beholding to him. Also he may not forget sometime to send home cates to his host, and to invite him to dinner to him: and likewise if his host did present him with any thing, he must accept it in very good part, and thank him much for it. For other while, by small presents, great friendship is obtained. The discreet courtier must also forbid his pages and servants to come into his hosts garden, to spoil his fruit, or to gather his flowers, to steal his hens, or to break any thing of his: That they pull not up the pavements of the house, paint his walls with coals or chalk, that they rob not his done house, nor make any noise to steal his coneys, to break his glass windows, and to hurt or mar any thing about his house: For if many times they refuse to lodge strangers in their houses, it is, not for want of lodging, or that the masters should cumber them: but for the displeasures, and shrewd turns they receive by their pages and servants daily. It shall chance many times that a cittezin that hath a fair new house, goodly whit walls, and trimly painted, shall have a courtier come to lodge in his house, that shall have such a train with him of servants, young children and their nevews, which are so foolish, proud and so reckless, that they break the forms, throw down tables, paint & beedawb the walls, beat down doors, run through the feelings, steal the birds, and do a thousand other mischiefs & unhappy turns, so that the poor owner of the house had rather lodge an other time Egyptians & beggars: then such rude & harmful courtiers. And therefore I have seen in the court, by reason of the servants disorder & ill rule, the masters commonly ill lodged, lodgings denied them, or after they had them to be quite taken from them. One of the necessariest things a courtier should have, is to keep quiet & well conditioned servants: otherwise it is to be thought (as in deed the common saying is) the house to be ill governed, where the family & servants are so ill conditioned & disordered. And touching this matter Aulus Gellius De noctibus atticis saith, that when Cornelius Gracchus was returned to Rome, after he had been consul a great while in the Isles Baleares, he said these words before all the senate. You know (father's conscript) I have been chief justice, & consul, xiii. years. during all which time I swear to you by the imortal gods, that to my knowledge I never did wrong to any man, neither any servant of mine displeasure to any, nor done any thing that was not lawful to be done in the house where I lay. Phalaris the tyrant when he received any displeasure of the Agrigentines, he caused his servants to lodge in their houses with them, for the one and the other were so wicked, so unthrifty, such quarrelers, and brawlers, that he could not work them a greater spite nor displeasure, then to lodge them here and there in their houses. There be also in the court some courtiers, that are esteemed of every man to be of so evil behaviour and demeanour, their servants and family of such lewd and naughty conditions, that their hosts are thoroughly resolved, either not to receive them into their houses, or if they be compelled to it, to absent them selves for the time of their being there: rather than to suffer such injuries and wrongs, as they are sure they must take at their hands. The courtier must consider that sometimes he hath need of a bottle of water to drink, a broom to sweep his chamber, a platter or dish to serve him withal, of a table cloth and napkins, and of a towel for his hands and his face, of a stool to sit on and of some kettle for the kitchen: and in such case, he should charge his servants courteously to ask these things of his host, and not to take them parforce & unasked. Every man desireth to be master in his own house, and be he brother, cousin, or friend, he will not suffer him to bear as much rule in his own house, as himself. So that he willbe less offended, with the hurt and loss of those things that he hath lent, and were gently asked him: then with those, which unknowing to him, by force, and against his will they have taken from him, yea though they bring them afterwards hole and sound again. And this our liberty is somuch set by, that we shall see sometimes a man for his pleasure, play and lose a.c. Crowns of gold, and say never a word: and on the other side, if one break the least glass in his house, he will cry, and rage to the heavens. I remember when I was a courtier, and went to visit an other courtier a friend of mine, that was sick in his lodging, I fell a chiding and rebuking the host, for that I found him exclayming and crying out of the pages, which playing at the ball had broken him a little lamp of glass, and he answered me thus. I cry not (sir) for the loss of my lamp which is a halfpenny matter, nor for the oil that they spylt worth a farthing, but only for the liberty they rob me of, and for the small account they make of me. The good and wise courtier may not be to familiar with his host his wife, nor suffer his servants to be busy with the maids of the house, more than to speak to them for their necessaries, for in this case, they should less hurt the master of the house, to ransack and spoil his house, and all that he had in it: then to take from him his honour and good name. To cast the beds on the flower, to break the doors & windows, to unpave the stones, to paint and black the walls, or to make any noise in the house, are all of them things: yet sometimes tolerable though not honest nor civil: but to take his wife, and to abuse her, it is neither lawful nor possible to dissemble it, much less to suffer it. For it were too much shame, and reproach to the husband to abide it, and high treason and crime abominable for the courtier to do it. Now since men are frail, and that they can not, nor will not subdue their passions and filthy motions of the flesh, there wanteth not notwithstanding women in princes courts, whose love & friendships they may easily embrace: which though they were all commanded to avoid the court, and the verge of the court, yet it could not be choose, but some might secretly continued still in court to entertain the courtly courtiers. For if in the court there be kept a table of play ii months only in the year, all the year long besides they find the streets full stored of common woomen. when the year is most plentiful and fruitful of all things, yet still there lacketh some provision of victuals in the court: but of such women there is never no want but rather to many. And therefore we have not said without great reason, that it were to much treason and dishonesty for the courtier to fall in love with his hostess: for in doing it, he should do her husband too much wrong, disfame the wife, and offend his friends and neighbours, and utterly undo himself. For Suetonius Tranquillus resyteth that julius Cesar caused a Captain of his to be beeheaded only for slandering and defaming of his hostess, the which he did not, tarrying for the complaint of her husband, nor the accusation of any other. And the Emperor Aurelianus seeing one of his men at a window one day pulling his hostess by the sleeve, caused his hand to be stricken of immediately, although both his hostess and he swore he did it but in jest, and to no other intent. Plutarch in his book De matrimonio saith, that there was a law among the Licaoniens, that if any stranger did but only talk with his hostess, his tongue should be cut out of his head, and if he had passed further, that he should then lose his head. Macrobius also in his Saturnaller reciteth, that amongst the romans it was reputed a great infamy, if any man came, and praised the beauty and manners of the mistress of the house where he lodged, for in praising her, he let them understand he knew her, and knowing her he spoke to her, and speaking to her, he opened his heart to her, and this doing, he plainly defamed her, and made her to be evil reported of. Aulus Gelius writeth that the like punishment was geeven to him that had carnal participation with any vestal virgin, the self same was also executed on him that procured any infamy to his hostess where he lay.  
Which punishment was, either to be cut in the mids, & quartered in four parts, or else to be stoned to death alive. The good courtier must also have an other great regard, & that is, to command his servants to look well to his riding apparel, and such as are lent him of courtiers to wear otherwhile, to see that it be kept clean and well brusshed, and above all safely delivered where it was borrowed, For commonly the horsekeepers have their horses lousing clothes and their masters foot-cloth more neat and cleanly, than the grooms and pages of the chamber have his apparel: and this proceeds of their great sloth & negligence. And truly this passeth the bounds of shamefast degree, yea and cometh much to charge the courtier's conscience, the small account he hath, so to let his garments and apparel, and other his movables to be spoiled and lost. And this happeneth very oft by the negligence of their pages and servants, which now throweth them about the chambers, drags them upon the ground, now sweeps the house with them, now they are full of dust, than tattered and torn in pieces, here their hose seam rend, there their shoes broken: so that if a poor man come afterwards to buy them to sell again, it will rather pity those that see them, then give them any courage to buy them. Wherefore the courtier ought not to be so careless, but rather to think upon his own things and to have an eye unto them: For if he go once a day to his stable to see his horses how they are kept and looked to, he may likewise take an other day in the week when he may find leisure to see his wardrobe, how his apparel lieth. But what paciens must a poor man take, that dareth his implements and apparel to the courtiers? that never layeth them abroad a sunning, to beat out the dust of them, nor never layeth them in water, to wash and white them, be they never so fowl. And all be it the beds and other implements lent to the courtier, be not of any great value, yet it is not fit they should be thrown at their tail & kept filthyly: For as charyly and daintily doth a poor labouring and husband man keep his  coverlet, and setteth as much by it, as doth the jolly courtier by his quilt or coverpane of silk. And it chanceth oft times also, that though at a need the poor man's bed costeth him less money, than the rich man's bed costeth him, yet doth it serve him better, than the rich and costly bed serveth the gentleman or nobleman. And this to be true, we see it by experience, that the poor husbandman or citizen sleepeth commonly more quietly, & at his ease, in his poor bed & cabean with his sheets of tow: then doth the lord or rich courtier, lying in his hanged chamber, & bed of silk, wrapped in his finest holland sheets, who still sigheth & complaineth. And finally we conclude, that then when the court removeth, & that the courtier departeth from his lodging where he lay, he must with all courtesy thank the good man and good wife of the house for his good lodging, & courteous entertainment he hath had of them, & must not stick also to give them somewhat for a remembrance of him, and besides, give certain rewards among the maids & men servants of the house according to their ability, that he may recompense them for that is past, & win their favour for that is to come.   

¶ What the courtier must do to win the Prince's favour. Cap. iiij.  
DIodorus Siculus saith, that the honour and reverence the Egyptians used ordinarily to their Princes was so great, that they seemed rather to worship them, then to serve them; for they cooled never speak to them, but they must first have licence geeven them. When it happened any subject of Egypt to have a suit to their prince, or to put up a supplication to them, kneeling to them they said these words. Sovereign lord & mighty prince, if it may stand with your highness favour & pleasure, I will boldly speak: if not, I will presume no further, but hold my peace. And the self reverence & custom had towards god Moses, Aaron, Thobias, David, Solomon, and other fathers of Egypt, making like intercession when they spoke with god, saying. Domine mi rex, Si inveni gratiam in oculis tuis, loquar ad dominum meum. O my lord and king, if I have found favour in thy sight, I will speak unto thee: if not, I will keep perpetual silence. For there is no service ill, when it is grateful & acceptable to him, to whom it is done: as to the contrary none good, when it pleaseth not the party that is served. For if he that serveth, be not in his masters favour he serveth, he may well take pains to his undoing, without further hope of his good will or recompense. Wherefore touching that I have said, I infer, that he that goeth to dwell & abide in the court, must above all endeavour himself all he can to obtain the prince's favour, and obtaining it, he must study to keep him in his favour. For it should little prevail the courtier to be beloved of all others, and of the prince only to be misliked. And therefore Alcamidas the Grecian, being once advertised by a friend of his, that the Athenians did greatly thirst for his death, & the Thebans desired his life: he answered him thus. If those of Athens thirst for my death, & them of Thebes likewise desiring my life, I can but be sorry & lament. How be it yet, if King Philip my sovereign lord & master hold me still in his grace & favour, & repute me for one of his beloved, I care not if all Greece hate and dyslove me, yea and lie in wait for me.  
In deed it is a great thing to get into the prince's favour, but when he hath gotten it, doubtless it is a harder matter to know how to keep it. For to make them love us, and to win their favour, we must do a thousand manner of services: but to cause them to hate and dislike of us, the least displeasure in the world sufficeth. And therefore the pain and trouble of him that is in favour in the court is great, if he once offend, or be in displeasure.  
For albeit the prince do pardon him his fault, yet he never after returneth into his favour again. So that to conclude, he that once only incurreth his indignation, he may make just reckoning never after, or marvelous hardly to be received again into favour. Therefore saith the divine Plato in his books De republica: that to be a king and to reign, to serve and to be in favour, to fight and to overcome, are three impossible things, which neither by man's knowledge, nor by any diligence can be obtained: only remaining in the hands and disposing of fickle fortune, which doth divide and give them where it pleaseth her, and to whom she favoureth best.  
And truly Plato had reason in his saying, for to serve, and to be beloved, is rather hap and good fortune, than industry or diligence. Since we see oft times that in the court of princes, those that have served but three years only, shallbe sooner preferred and advanced, than such one as hath served perhaps twenty or xxx years, or possible all his life tyme. And further he shallbe both displaced, and put out of service, by means of tother. And this proceeds not through his long and faithful service he hath done, but only by reason of the good hap that followeth him. Although Plato telleth, that to get realms and signories, to overcome battles, and to be favoured and beloved of princes, be things granted to us rather by hazard, & fortune, then by force, of good works, and laudable acts, or by long toiling in painful service: yet the noble and stout heart therefore should not cease at any time to enterprise, and manfully to execute in every occasion presented to him, to achieve to fame and honour: neither for any pain and labour to lose the hope to obtain his pretenced purpose. For men sometimes lose many things, rather through timorousness, and want of audacity, then for that they lack good hap or fortune. To see in the court of princes some to be richer, more honoured, more noble, more esteemed, better beloved, more waited upon, better served, & better welcome than others, and more feared than others: we may by these tokens know, that fortune hath not used to reward those with such favours & preferrements, which live at home idly, and much less courtiers, who live in court with all pleasure and delicacy, wherewith they are never wearied.  
Let no man be so fond to think, that fortune is so bountiful and liberal, that for his authority, or only thought, she willbe once moved to lift him out of misery, to exalt him to higher place and dignity, without some secret and private respect had to his virtue. For when she many times upon a sudden raiseth any to high and great estate, it cometh by the merits of him that is exalted, or through the displeasure of him that is thrown down: in whose room she hath placed an other in favour with her. As we read of julius Emilius, for a time high in favour, and afterwards in great disgrace with the emperor Constantius, in whose place and room succeeded afterwards an other named Alexander, who being one day reproved by some of his friends of ingratitude towards them, (that said they were causers and furderers of his honour and preferrment) answered them in this manner. Masters, if I am comen into such favour with themperor, my good and gracious lord, succeeding in the place of Emilius, truly it was more by reason of his deserved fall, then by your obtained means or requests: Fortune and his heavy destiny having so willed and ordained it, more to overthrow and displace him of his room and credit he was in, then to advance and prefer me to the same. The which I say, to advise the citizen & gentleman that goeth to the court to be a courtier, to th'end he be not fickle headed, & light of beelief, to think that immediately he shall come to such authority, that he may easily command all that he will: neither that he should so much despair, & be hopeless, but that by time (in serving well) he might come to be in as great favour, as any other about the prince. We see daily such change & alterations in the common weal, & fortune to turn her unstable wheel so oft, that many times the administration of the common weal is in his hands & rule, of whom before they made little or none account. And therefore I say to you, and again return to tell you, that the courtier that seeketh to come into his prince's favour, & to be beloved of him, & that coveteth to be well reputed of in court must endeavour himself to be very honest, & as near as may be faultless of life: & true & faithful in his charge or office he taketh upon him. For the good opinion that men have of a man, is ever the first degree to attain to the prince's favour. For there is no man in the world, of whatsoever state or condition he be, so vicious and lascivious, but at the least he desireth to have an honest and virtuous man in his house: so that a man may say, that the good and godly life is the readiest mean and way (where ever the person be) to bring him soon into the prince's favour, and to make him to be beloved generally. Wherefore Phalaris the tyrant, writing to an emulator of his, said these words unto him. I confess thou art an honest man, but thou wilt not deny me also, that all those thou keepest in thy house, be wicked persons and of ill life: a thing which in my house thou shalt find all contrary. For although I am a tyrant, at least yet I love, that no ill disposed person eat bread in my house: So that though I am laden with many vices, yet am I accompanied also with many wise and learned men. The divine Plato came from Greece into Scicilia, only to see Dionysius the Syracusan, and not Plato himself alone, but also divers other philosophers in company with him: whom he did not only honour & entreat well, but also saw they wanted nothing fit or necessary for them. Many times Dyonisius was wont to say these words. I am captain of the Rhodians, sith I defend them from the Africans: and king of the Africans, because I govern them: and friend of the Italians, because I offend them not: and father of the philosophers, because I help to relieve them in all their necessities: and the Scicilians call me a tyrant, because they see I leave not to punish them, and keep them under. By these two examples we may gather, that the tyrants being friends to virtuous & honest men, much more & of necessity ought the good & just princes to be. Also the courtier must take great heed he be not arrogant, & a liar, a flatterer, & dissembler: for those, & such like faults, are rather woodz & by paths, uttlerly to lose a man: then a plain high way to bring him into favour and credit. And although by chance there have been some, that with all these faults have notwithstanding crept into favour: yet we will show them a hundred, that only for those vices have been cast out of favour & credit both. For commonly, all those that by the favour of wicked princes beeginne to be great, and of some honour, and that study by all dishonest & unlawful means to continue and keep themselves in credit, &: favour Albeit for a time we see them reign and flourish in prosperity: yet that lasteth not long, neither is it perpetual, but a time cometh again, when we see them fall, & quite cast of, to their great shame and utter undoing. There are many that knoweth and understandeth the princes court but meanly, or not at all, which believe, that for being well spoken, and being careful and diligent in their business and affairs, they should the sooner for that come in favour and credit before others: but in the end their hope and imagination is nothing, not answering any thing their desire: for as there are in court many green heads, and graceless covertures, which are of no reputation, nor any thing set by, neither deserving to be well thought of: So are there many wise heads and beloved courtiers greatly esteemed and reputed of. And this for their own good demerits, and by means also of the others wicked abuse and disorder. Suetonius tranquillus reciteth, that Scylla the consul, being mortal enemy of the Marians, (of which faction was also julius Cesar) said: that from Caesar's infancy his wisdom made him more to be feared and wondered at: then ever his stout and valiant courage he showed. Plutarch writing to trajan said. I assure thee (Sovereign prince) I do more esteem & honour thy parson, than I do care for all thy empire beesyds. For I have seen thee do a thousand good things to deserve it, but I never saw thee once desirous to have it. And sure in my opinion I think there is no better alchemy in court, to grow to sudden wealth, and to acquire the prince's favour: than that the same of his good life should rather resound his praise to the prince, thereby to make him known unto him: then the respect of his noble house or progeny.  
That courtier also that craveth his prince's grace, must take heed in any wise he be not consort or companion with rash & hasty persons, whose unstable heads mislike of every state, still depraving all others virtues.  
Such fellow mates, and companions, the wise courtier must in any case refuse to be conversant with. I must advise him also he beware he be not rash of speech, nor that he speak ill of any man: For it is a right kind of treason to detract and backbite our friends, and much more the prince, to whom we wholly own our duty and allegiance. And therefore the wise and virtuous courtier must fly from this company as far as he can, that are possessed with such vain humours, and passions of mind: For such kind of men, will never council us to serve well, nor to beware of liberal speaking, but will rather infect us, and bring us to their naughty vain humour, and make us to be deemed as bad as themselves (though we be not so) only for keeping them company. Like as in common weals there are seditious heads, which move and stir the poor commons to rebellion: even so in princes courts there are the like factious heads, that seek to win good will of courtiers, & so to stir up their minds also to tumult & sedition: which, because they have no way to come up, and grow in favour, do detract and speak ill of those, that are in favour and authority. One of these abjects, & inferior sort, shall go to the house of an other, (in like disgrace and discredit that himself is in,) and there these companions shall open their throats against the prince, and his court saying, the king careth not for his subjects, talking of the high minds and countenances of the beloved and favoured of court, of the affections of the counsel, of the parciality and enmyty of the court, of the want of munition for wars, and of the fall and decay of the common wealth: and thus with these lewd and uncomely discorses, they spend the long and doleful nights of winter season, and there withal also the long and hot sunny days of summers tyme. Adrian the emperor being once informed, that there met and assembled togethers daily, at the house of one Lucius Turbon, a number of the seditious and factious sort of Rome, which were offended with him, and conspired against him: to prevent them of insurrection, proclaimed presently through Rome and enacted it for a law, that all courtiers that assembled there, should lose their heads, and all the Romans should be banished. All this we have spoken, to banish vice from princes courts if it may be: for now a days, as there are many houses of ordinary tables, and numbers of dising houses for all manner of play: so is there also in the court, besides the groom porters, other chambers where they meet to murmur at each man's doings. And as there are some that say, gowe let us go to such a man's house, and there we shall find play enough, and good fellowship to pass the time away as we will: even so these others say, go, we will go to such a chamber, and there we shall meet with our companions and good fellows, where we may talk liberally and at our pleasure, without check or control of any. Infamous be that house, where there is no other exercise, but play and riot: and accursed be that, where they can not occupy themselves, but in defaming and backbiting their breetherns and neighbours. For to conclude, it were less evil to play and lose their money, then to rob and spoil his neighbour of his good name. Now to get into the prince's favour, it helpeth much to consider, wherein the prince taketh chief delight, and whereto he is best affected: whether to music, hunting, flying, riding of horses, or fishing, running, or leaping, or any other activity what so ever it be. And his affect and desire once known, and observed: he must give himself wholly to love that the prince loveth, and to follow that that he followeth. And as princes commonly are geeven to their wills, to leek some pastimes better than others: so do they show themselves more favourable and gracious to some of their servants, then others: and rather to those whom only they see conform and agreeable with their affections, then to such as are alway most diligent and painful about them, to do them the best service they can. The curious courtier may account himself happy, if he can frame himself to commend that the prince alloweth, and likewise to disallow of that the prince misliketh: and though perhaps he were many times of the contrary opinion, he may well think and believe to himself what he liketh best, but in no case to utter that he thinketh, nor to make any countenance to the contrary. The emperor Aurelius never drank other then red wine, and because he was informed that Torquatus the Roman, for his sake did not only refrain from drinking white wine, but did also plant all his wines with red grapes, he made him censor of Rome, and gave him the ward of the gate Salaria in the said city. In eating and drinking, in hunting, and tilting, in peace, and in war, in youthful sports, and grave matters, the wise courtier must always follow the steps and will of the prince, and imitate him in the same the best he can. And if it be beneficial for the courtier to have the prince's favour and to be esteemed of him: let him in no wise enterprise to talk too much to him. For by continual frequenting the prince it can not otherwise fall out, but he shall both trouble him, and be thought a proud, arrogant, and an importunate fool of him. And if the courtier hath no grave and weighty matters to move the prince in, to what purpose doth he seem to molest and importune the king? We say in weighty matters to communicate with him. For to talk with the prince, and to trouble his ears with trifles and matters of small moment, he should be reputed of the hearers a rash man, and of the king himself a witless fool. Let us consider a little what is fit for the courtier to do, and what beecometh him best, and whether it be lawful for him to confer with the prince, and then we shall come to know, if it be decent for him to speak oft to the prince. Therefore to go to the king to speak ill of any man, I think no wise man will offer to do it: and if it be to give him secret intelligence of any thing, he must first doubt whether the king will believe him or no: and to think to counsel him, it is a token of a light head: and to presume to sleyt with the prince, and to beemery with him, to pass the time away, let every man beware he run not into that error, nor that he once press to do it. To send to reprove a prince, I know not what he is that would be so foolish hardy once ●o dare to open his lips against him: and to flatter him, if the prince be wise, he will understand him: and if he find him once, it is enough to turn the flatterer to great displeasure, yea and to put him quite out of favour wish him. And therefore to live in surety and avoid these dangers, me thinks it is best to speak but seldom to him. Lucullus was a great friend to Seneca and was also governor of Sicilia, and demanding one day of Seneca what he might do that might be acceptable to the emperor Nero his lord and master, Seneca answered him thus. If thou desire to be acceptable to princes, do them many services, and give them few words. And so like wise the divine Plato said in his books De repub. that those that have to move the prince in any thing, in any case be brief: for in dilating to much, they should both cumber the prince, and make him also not give attentive ear, neither could he have leisure to hear them, nor patience to tarry them. And he said further. Those matters and subjects they treat with princes in, and that are used to be told them, aught to be grave, and sententious: either tending to comodyty of the weal public, to his honour or profit, or to the service of the king, to whom he speaks. These counsels and advertysements of Plato and Seneca (in my poor opinion) deserve to be noted and had in memory: And notwithstanding all that I have spoken, I say yet further to you, that there is nothing disposeth the prince better to love and favour his servants, then to see them diligent in service, and slow in speaking. For to reward him that only seeks it by means of his tongue and by words, it is in our free wills to do it: but to recompense him that by his diligent service only craveth a good turn and not in words, we are in consciens bound to it: And hereof springeth the vulgar proverb: The good service is demand sufficient, though the tongue be silent.   

¶ What manners and gestures become the courtier when he speaketh to the prince. Cap. v.  
WHen the courtier determineth to speak to the prince, he must first show himself unto him with great reverence, before he come at him, & if the king be set, he must kneel to him upon one knee, with his cap in his left hand, holding yet neither to far nor to near his body, but rather downwards towards his knee, with a good grace and comely fashion, not to lustily, nor to much boldly, but with a set shamefast gravity, putting himself on the left hand of the prince to speak with him, whether he be sitting or standing. For placing ourselves on the left hand, we leave the king on the right, as duty willeth us: For the right hand belongeth ever to the best person. Plutarch sayeth, that in the banquets the kings of Persia made, they sat him, whom they loved, and made most account of, cheek by cheek, and on the left hand of the prince, where the heart lieth: saying, that those whom they loved with their heart, should be set down also on that side the heart lay, and in no other place. Blondus sayeth to the contrary, that the Romans did honour the right hand somuch, that when the Emperor entered t into the senate, no man durst ever put himself on his right hand. And he saith more over, that if a young man were perchanse found sitting on the right hand of an old man, or the servant on the upper hand of his master, the son on the right hand of his father, or any page, prentice or serving man, on the upper hand of a burgeis or cytesin: they were no less punished by justice for that fault and offence, then if they had done any notable crime or delict. Who so ever will speak to the prince, must speak with a soft voice and not to hastily. For if he speak to loud, those that stand by shall hear what he saith to the king: and in speaking to fast, the king shall not easily understand what he sayeth. And he must alsoere he speak to the prince premeditate long before what he will say to him, and put into him good words and aptly placed: for wise men are more careful what words their tongues should utter, than what their hands should do. There is great difference beetwixt speaking well, and doing well: for in the end the hand can but strike and offend: but the tongue can both offend and defame. Even when the courtier is telling his tale to the prince, let him be advised in all his actions & gestures, & that he play not with his cap from one hand to an other, much less that he behold the prince to earnestly in the face. For in the one he should be taken for a fool, and esteemed in the other for a simple courtier. He must take great heed also that he spit not, cough, nor hawk, when he speaks to him, and if it be so he be constrained by nature to it: then let him hold down his head, or at least turn at one side that he breathe not in the king's face. Pliny writing to Fabatus saith, that the kings of India never suffered any man (in speaking to them) to approach so near them, that their breath might come to their face. And they had reason to do it, to avoid strong and unsavoury breths, growing rather of the indisposition of the stomach, or of the putrefaction of the lungs, or of the corruption of the brain. And if the courtier have to speak with the king after dinner or supper, let him beware he eat no garlic, nor onions, nor drink wine without water. For if he savour of garlyk or onions, the king may think he lacketh discretion to come with those scents to his presence: or if his breath were strong of wine, that he were a drunkard. He must be very circumspect also that when he speaketh to the king, he speak not with his head, aswell as with his tongue, nor that he play not with his hands, nor his feet, nor that he struck his beard, nor wynk with his eyes: for such fond countenances, and gestures, do rather become a fool or jester, than a civil or honest courtier.  
And in his discourse with the Prince, that he exceed not in superfluous words, more than shall only be needful and touching his matter, and not to seem in his presence to deprave or detract any man. He may honestly allege, (and that without reproach) the service he hath done him: but not to lay before him others faults and imperfections. For at such a time it is not lawful for him to speak ill of any man, but only to communicate with him of his own affairs. And he may not go so far also, as to remember him with too great affection, the blood spent by his ancestors in his service, nor the great acts of his parents: for this only word said to the prince, I did this, better pleaseth and liketh the Prince, then to tell him a hundred other words of that that his predecessors had done. It pertaineth only to women, and they may justly crave recompense of the prince for the lives of their husbands lost in the prince's wars: but the valiant, and worthy courtier, ought not to demand recompense, but for that he only hath done, by piercing lance, and bloody sword. He must beware also that he show no countenance to the king of insatisfaction, neither to be passioned in casting his service in the prince's teeth, saying all others have been recompensed save only him, whom the Prince hath clean forgotten. For princes will not that we only serve them, but that we also (at their wills and pleasures) tarry for recompense, and not to have it when we gape, or are importune for it. Howbeit it is lawful notwithstanding, humbly and lowly, without choler or passion, to put the Prince in remembrance of all that we have done for him, and of the long time we have spent in serving him. Also the curious courtier shall not show himself to dyslike at all of the prince, neither by heaping of many words, to induce him to bear him the better good will. For men's hearts are so prone to ill, that for one only unpleasant or overthwart word spoken to them, they lightly forgeat a thousand services done them.  
Socrates being one day demanded what he thought of the princes of Greece, answered. There is no other difference between the names and properties of the gods, and that of princes, but that the Gods were immortal, and these mortal. For these mortal princes use in manner the like authority here in earth, that the gods immortal do in heaven above. Saying further also, that I always was, am, and willbe of that mind, that my mother Greece remain a common weal. But since it is determined to be governed by princely monarchy, I wish them in all, and for all, to acknowledge their obedience and allegiance to their king and sovereign. For when they would otherwise use it, they may be assured they shall not only go against mortal princes, but also against the eternal god. Suetonius Tranquillus sayeth, that Titus the emperor being advertised that the consuls would kill him, and usurp his empire, answered thus wisely. Even as without the divine will and providence I cooled never have possessed the imperial crown, so without their permission and sufferance, it lieth in no man's power to deprive me of it.  
For to us men it pertaineth only to keep the imperial jurisdiction, and to the gods alone to give and defend it: Which we have spoken, to th'end no man presume to be revenged of his prince, neither in word nor deed: for to speak ill of him, we should rather purchase us their high indignation and displeasure, then procure us any cause or suggestion to be revenged of him. Let the good courtier be also advised, that in talking with the prince he be not to obstinate, to contend with the prince, or any other in the prince's presence: For this name of arrogant, and self-willed, becometh not the person of a wise courtier. For we know that in sport, and argument every man desireth to overcome, how trifling so ever the matter be.  
And therefore we read in the life of the emperor Severus, that Publius the consul jested one day with Fabritius his companion, and told him he was in love. Whom Fabritius answered: I confess it is a fault to be in love, but yet it is a greater fault for thee to be so obstinate as thou art. For love proceedeth of wit and discretion: but obstinacy, cometh of folly and great ignorance. If perchance the king ask the courtier's opinion in those matters they discoursed, if he know his opinion to agree with the princes, let him tell it him hardly: but if it be contrary, let him hold his peace, and not contend against him, framing some honest excuse to conceal his opinion. But if perhaps the king were obstinate, and bend to his opinion in any thing, and that through his self will and obstinacy, he would do any thing unreasonable, or prejudicial to his common wealth, and that great detriment might come thereby: yet for all this, in such case the beloved courtier should not at that instant be to plain with him, to let him understand his error, neither yet should he suffer him altogeether to pass his way untouched, but in some fine manner and proper words (as may become the place best) to give him to understand the troth. But to use it with more discretion, he shall not need before them all to open his whole mind, but to keep his opinion secret, expecting a more apt time, when the king shall be apart in his privy chamber, and then frankly to tell him his hole mind, with all humylity and reverence, and to show him the plain troth, without keeping any one thing from his knowledge. For otherwise in telling the king openly, he should make him ashamed: and in dissembling his fault also privily, he should not be admonished of his error committed. Now therefore let our conclusion be, that the courtier that proceeds in his matters, rather with opinion and obstinacy, than discretion and judgement: shall never be in favour with the Prince, nor yet beloved in the court. For it is as necessary for the courtier, that will seek the favour of the prince and love of the court, to impose his tongue to silence: as it is to dispose his body to all manner of service. I know there are some such rash, undiscreet, and arrogant fools, that as much do boast and rejoice to have spoken undiscreetly to the king, and without respect of his princely majesty: as if they had done some marvelous thankful service, with whom truly no man ought to be greatly offended, for such fond boasts and vaunts as they make, and much less also with that that happens to them afterward. The courtier also must be well advised, that albeit the king for his pleasure do privily play with his hands, or jest with his tongue with the courtier, and that he take great pleasure in it: yet that he in no case presume to do the like, (yea though he were assured the king's majesty would take it well:) but let him modestly behave himself, and show by his words and countenance that he thinketh the prince doth honour him, in pleasing his majesty to use those pastimes and pleasant devices, with so unworthy a person as he is. For the prince may lawfully play, and sport himself with his lords and gentlemen: but so may not they again with him. For so doing, they might be counted very fond and light. With a man's companions and coequals it is lawful for every man to be merry and play with all. But with the prince, let no man so hardy once presume further, more than to serve, honour, and obey him. So that the wise courtier, must endeavour himself always to come in favour by his wisdom, and courtly behaviour, in matters of weight and importance: and by great modesty and gravity, in things of sport and pass tyme. Therefore Plutarch in his Apothegms saith, that Alcibiades, amongst the Greeks a worthy captain, and a man of his own nature disposed to much mirth and pleasure, being asked once by some of his familiar friends why he never laughed in theatres, bankers, and other common plays where he was, answered them thus. Where others eat, I fast: where others take pain & play, I rest me & am quiet: where other speak I am silent: where they laugh, I am courteous, & jest not. For wise men are never known but among fools, and light persons. When the courtier shall understand, or here tell of pleasant things to be laughed at, let him in any case (if he can) fly from those great laughters & foolries? that he be not perhaps moved too much with such toys, to laugh to loud, to clap his hands, or to do other gestures of the body, or admirations to vehement, accompanied rather with a rude and barbarous manner of behaviour, then with a civil and modest nobleness. For over great and excessive laughter was never engendered of wisdom, neither shall he ever be counted wise of others that useth it. There are also an other sort of courtiers that speak so coldly, and laugh so dryly, and with so ill a grace, that it were more pleasure to see them weep, then to laugh. Also to novel or to tell tales to delight others, and to make them laugh, you must be as brief as you can, that you weary not, & cumber not the auditory: pleasant and not biting nor odious. Else it chanceth oft times, that wanting any of these conditions, from jesting they come many times to good earnest. Elius Spartianus in the life of the Emperor Severus saith that the said Emperor had in his court a pleasant fool, and he seeing the fool one day in his domps and cogitations, asked him what he ailed to be so sad? The fool made answer. I am devising with myself what I should do to make thee merry. And I swear to thee (my lord Severus) that for as much as I way thy life dear, possible I study more in the nights for the tales I shall tell thee in the morrow after, then do thy Senators touching that they must decree on the next day. And I tell thee further (my lord Severus) that to be pleasant and delighting to the prince, he must neither be a very fool, nor altogeether wise. But though he be a fool, yet he must smatter somewhat of a wise man: and if he be wise, he must take a little of the fool for his pleasure. And by these examples we may gather, that the courtier must needs have a certain modesty and comely grace, as well in speaking, as he must have a soft and sweet voice in singing. There are also some in court, that spare not to go to noble men's boards to repast, which being in deed, the unseemly grace itself, yet in their words and talk at the board they would seem to have a marvelous good grace, wherein they are oft deceived. For if at times the Lords and gentlemen laugh at them, it is not for any pleasure they take in their talk, but for the ill grace, and uncomely gestures they use in their talk. In the banquets and feasts courtiers make some times in the summer, there are very oft such men in their company, that if the wine they drank took their condition, it should be drunk either colder, or whotter than it is.   

¶ How the Courtier should behave himself to know, and to visit the noble men and gentlemen, that be great with the Prince and continuing still in court. Cap. vi.  
THe courtier that cometh newly to the court to serve there, must immediately learn to know those that are in authority, and favour in the court, & that are the prince's officers. For if he do otherwise, neither should he be acquainted with any noble man or gentleman, or any other of the prince's servants, neither would they also give him place, or let him in when he would. For we be not conversant with him we know not, & not being conversant with him, we trust him not, and distrusting him, we commit no secrets to him: So that he that will come in favour in the court, must make himself known, & be friend to all in general. And he must take heed that he begin not to suddenly to be a busy suitor in his own private affairs, or for his friend, for so he shallbe soon reputed for a busy solicitor, rather than a wise courtier. Therefore he that will purchase favour and credit in the court, must not be to careful to prefer men's causes, and to intermeddle in many matters. For the nature of princes is, rather to commit their affairs in the hands & trust of grave and reposed men, then to busy & importunate soliters. The courtier also may not be negligent to visit the prelate's, gentlemen, and the favoured of the court, nor to make any difference beetween the one & the other: and not only to visit their parents and friends, but his enemies also. For the good courtier ought to endeavour himself the best he can to accept all those for his friends at least, that he can not have for parents and kinsfolks. For amongst good and virtuous courtiers, there should never be such bloody hate, that they should therefore leave one to company with an other, and to be courteous one to another. Those that be of base mind, do show their cankered hearts by forbearing to speak, but those that be of noble blood & valiant courage, beegynne first to fight, ere they leave to speak togethers. There is also an other sort of courtiers, which being sometimes at the table of noble men, or else where when they hear of some quarrel or private displeasure, they show themselves in offer like fierce lions, but if afterwards their help be craved in any thing, and that they must needs stand by their friend and draw on his side: then they show themselves as still as lambs, and gentle enough to be entreated. Amongst others the new come courtier hath to be acquainted withal, he must learn to know those the prince favoureth, and loveth best, on whom he must attend and wait upon, and do all the service he can, without grudge and disdaigne. For there is no king, but far of on him, hath an other king, that still cotrarieth his mind, and preventeth him of his intent and pleasure: And ever near unto him some, whom he loveth and favoureth, that may dispose of the prince as he lysteth. Plutarch writing to trajan said these words. I have (O trajan) great pitty on thee, for the first day thou tookest upon thee the Imperial crown of the roman Empire, of a free man thou thraldst thyself to bondage. For only you other princes have authority to give liberty to all others, but never to grant it to yourselves, saying more over, that under the colour of royal liberty, you shall remain more subject, than your own subjects that ere obey you. For if you command many in their houses, also one alone after commandeth you in your own court. Now although many commanded the prince, or that he would follow the counsel but of a few, or that he loved one above an other, or that he consented one alone should govern him, thee good courtier need not once open his mouth to reason of the matter. For so it might easily fall out, he should beegynne out of hand to feel in the court, of what importance it were to enter into such discourse of the prince, and afterwards to go home to his own house, to end it with bitter tears. first to purchase the high indignation of the prince, secondly to be dysdeigned of the court, thirdly to be cast quite out of favour, four to be exiled and banished the verge of the court, and fifthly and lastly to end the rest of his woeful days in vile and miserable place. Now if it be hard to compass to get into the prince's favour, I think it no very ill counsel that at least he seek to be in favour with him that is in the princes favour. For oft times there cometh as much displeasure to us, being ill willed of those the prince doth esteem & favour: as there doth by the princes own indignation, that reigneth over us. For that we talk of princes, cometh not all to his ears (and but seldom) unless the matter be slanderous and offensive to his majesty. But to the contrary, we no sooner speak of those that be in favour, & beloved of the prince, but they are not only with speed advertised what was spoken of them: but they further divine what we thought of them. Therefore my friend courtier, sith it lieth not in thee to diminish or impair his credit, that is in favour with the prince, & beloved in the court: neither to displace his matters & suyts he taketh in hand, & that thou hast no authority to reform & govern the common weal, nor to redress & amend the wrongs & injuries received, I would wish thee to follow my counsel. If thou spy the fauts & imperfections of the court, that thou rather suffer & abide them, in keeping them secret: them to seem to reprove them openly, when thou seest princes themselves contented to dissemble & cover them privily. It is therefore the sounder counsel, to follow and serve those that are in favour & credit, then to pursue them in word or deed. And therefore the courtier must be very choice with whom he is familiar, to whom he speaketh, whom he trusteth, who heareth him, and of whom he receiveth all his intelligence. For there is great difference between the words that are spoken, and the intent & meaning with which they were spoken. For the bowels and entrails of courtiers are so damnable, and their hearts so crooked, and diverted from the right path way of bounty and goodness, that the new and ignorant courtier shall think himself much profited by their advices, and admonitions, when in deed they shall but deceive him: and shall think he was well counseled, when he shall find himself the most deceived in the world, and in greater anger than before. There are some also so little contented with the prince, and so ill recompensed for their service, that they are not only not his friends, but they practise secretly to purchase him more enemies. And when the courtier seeth, that he that is in favour and credit, doth in deed stick close with him unfeignedly, what need he care then, though all the rest be his enemies. And the good courtier must consider, that he goeth not to the court to revenge injuries, but only to purchase honour and profit. To whom also I give counsel, that he be not enemy to him that is in favour, nor friend to his enemy: and yet it shall be best for him to be friend to all, and enemy to none, if he can possible. Who so ever desireth to be well thought of in the court, and to be beloved of courtiers, it is better for him to suffer injuries done him, than he himself to be a procurer of them to others. And for the injuries, detractyons, and mutynyngs that they shall raise against the favoured of the court, no man ought to trust any other person than himself: sith that for the most part whom they do trust, (when he shall have need of the good report, and credit of him that is in favour with the prince, thinking to do him a piece of great service) he shall not care to unfold to him even the bottom of his friends secrets, which were committed to him in great secrecy. He must also consider that he can not possibly in a short time grow in favour with the prince, nor come also to be accepted for a friend of him that is in favour about the prince: but the sooner to hasten his good fortune, he must acquaint himself thoroughly with the officers and servants of the beloved, and do them a thousand pleasures daily, aswell in courteous words, as in serving their turns also with money or jewels, presenting them ever with some pretty small token from them, to have them in mind, and to remember them to their masters. For the true order of this disorder, is in effect to be rather friend to their servants, then familiar or beloved with their masters, that are in so great favour: he must also be informed, which of his servants (that is in estimation with the prince) is in best credit with his master, & him he must seek to make his friend above all other his fellows. For even as the prince hath a servant whom he loveth, that leads him altogether: even so likewise hath the favoured courtier, a servant about him, that commandeth him. There is no will so free & liberal, neither any lord so high & absolute, nor judge so upright a justicer, but in the end he giveth more trust & credit to one, then to an other. And hereof proceeds most commonly, that we love not those we ought to love, but those whom we fancy most. Now therefore following our intent, touching the visitation of courtiers, he must lay watch, & consider well to procure knowledge, first, if any such noble men, or other his friends, (which he hath devotion to visit) be occupied, or withdrawn to their bed chambers, for some private business of theirs, for if it were so, they would rather think he came to trouble them, them to visit them. And therefore he that is wise (in visiting his friends) may not be too importune upon them to press into their bed chamber, neither to be too tedious & unpleasant in his words. There are some so solitary, that would never be visited, & others that desires to be visited every day, others there be that would the visitation should be short, others that take such pleasure to hear a long discourse, that he would his tale should never be ended. So that the courtier must look into the natures of men, & so to frame his visitations, according to the conditions of their mind: and to remember his visitations to great, & grave men, be not so oft & daily, that they be troublesome to him: nor so seldom, that they may think them strangers, & that they had forgotten him. That only deserveth the name of a true visitation, where the person visited may not be troubled with importunacy, nor the visyter may dymynish any part of his credit and estimation, and also that he prejudice not his own commodyty in his affairs. I speak it for some that are so troublesome in their visytations, & so foolish and tedious in their words, not knowing how to make an end, that we may better call them troublesome, envious, and impudent, then honest vysiters, and faithful friends. And therefore we should leave them so contented we visit, that they should rather be angry to leave our company, then that they should complain of our importunity: giving them rather occasion to meet us with a pleasant countenance, when we enter into their house, then to make them hide themselves, or fly from us, when they see us, & to say they are not within. And me thinks in deed where we have not great and strait friendship, or else some affairs of great importance that toucheth us much, it should be sufficient to visit our friends and acquaintance, once in a month: and where they would see us more oftener, let us carry till they complain, and find fault, and send to us to let us understand it, and not that we be so ready to come to offer and present ourselves unto them, unless the necessity of our cause do urge us. There are some persons so undiscreet in being visited, that when others come to see them, either they make the gates to be shut upon them, or they cause their servants to say they are not within, or else they get them out at the backdore, or they fain that they are a little a●rafed, only to avoid and fly from these troublesome and babbling visyters▪ So that they had rather see a sergeant enter into his house to arrest them for debt, then to be cumbered with these loathsome and prating vysyters. Also it is not fit to go see their friends at unlawful hours, as about dinner or supper time: for those that are visited, will rather think they come to dine or sup with them, then of courtesy and good will to see them. It happeneth sometimes, that many are brave and rich in apparel, that keep but a poor and mean ordinary at their table, sparing from their mouth to lay it upon their backs: and therefore they are very loath, and offended, that any of their friends or famylyars should take them at meals to judge of them: for they think it less pain to fast from meat secretly, then that their scarcity should openly be discovered. Also the laws of honesty, and civylity, do not permit any man to enter into the house, hall, or chamber of an other, without knocking, or calling first at the door. For that only privilege to come into the house suddenly, and speak never a word, belongeth to the husband or masters of the house. Also it is not good to go see his friend when he is at play, for if he be a loser, it can not be but he will chafe and be in choler (in his mind) with his friend, to come then to trouble him, and to let him of his play: And if haply he were a winner before his friend came to see him, and afterwards chance to be a loser again: he will lay th'occasion of his loss upon his friend that came of good will to see him, and say that he turned his good luck away from him, and that he came but to trouble him, taking it rather for an offence and injury done him, then for any good love or duty showed him. If our friend in like manner whom we go to visit, come out of his chamber to receive us, not bidding us come into the camber, nor to sit down, but standing to talk with us without any other courtesy or entertainment, we may easily perceive by this his manner of entertainment that he giveth us good and honest leave to departed when we will. The wise, and fine courtier, will as easily find and understand him by his signs, as he will do sometimes by his words. Also the courtier must take great heed that inseeming to use courtesy, he happen not to make some foolish countenance in pulling of his cap, in making courtesy, coming into the hall, or taking a stool to sit down, lest he be therefore marked & mocked of the standers by, or noted for proud or presumptuous, for to stay or let at these trifles, a man rather getteth the name of a glorious, light, and proud: then of a grave & sober man. All things touching consciens, civility, & honour, the good courtier should always have in memory, & before his eyes, when he shall discourse with his lord, or visit his friend. And for the first beeginning of his discourse, & talk with him (after they are set down togethers) he must ask him how his body doth, & whether all his house be meery and in good health: for it is the thing that we must first procure for our own private commodity, and secondly desire it for our friends. Also in the courtiers vysitations he may not be too curious or inquisytive of news, neither over beesy to tell news: for after his friend were once advertised of the troth, it might be lightly, he would thank him for his coming & commend him for his courtesy: and notwithstanding blame him for his news, & count him a liar. And if it happen we find the party whom we visyt, sad, comfortless, and in some necessity, although he were not our friend, yet for that he is a christian, we ought to comfort him in words, & to seek also to help and relieve him with some what. Lycurgus in his laws he made ordained, that it should not be lawful for any man to come to see a prisoner, but he should held to deliver him: nor any poor man, but he should relieve him: nor any sick or diseased parson, but he should help and comfort him to his able power. And truly me thinks Lycurgus had great reason to make this law, since we see that in experience, that a man's mind, for one only thing that is geeven him, is better contented and satisfied: then with a thousand words that they can speak to him. And if his house whom they go to visit, and where he dwelleth, be his own inheritance, and fee simple, or that he hath it by lease or purchase, or that he built it out of the ground, or if he have repaired or new coated it, the courtier must pray him to let him see it, and when he hath seen it he must greatly commend it to him: for all mortal men have this common fault and humour, that we must be praised of our doings and not reproved for our faults. Further if they vysyt any sick person, they must remember they speak but little to him, and that softly, and pleasant matters: for otherwise it should seem (and they will also believe) he came to see him, rather to aggravat his sickness more, then to comfort him. We must ever make short visytations, not only with the sick & diseased, but the whole & sound. And then the good courtier must take his leave of them, when he is even in his most pleasant discourse, to th'end they may entreat him to tarry longer: and not to tarry till they seem to licence him by outward signs & ceremonies: & he that shall go visyt an other, let him take heed he be not so long, & tedious in his talk, that the parson whom he visiteth do rise before him. For it were too plain a token he were weighed of his company & long tarrying, sith he rose before him to give him occasion to departed. If his wife whom he visiteth, be not a sister or kinswomen of the courtiers that visyts him, or that they be not of very familiar acquaintance togethers, he should not once seem to ask for her, much less to desire to see her. For as Scipio sayeth, a man should not trust any to see his wife, nor to prove his sword. It is also a custom used among courtiers, that when they go to any man's house to see him, before they light of on their horse, they send to know whether he be within or no. And when the courtier taketh his leave of him he hath visited, he must not suffer the gentleman to bring him out of his chamber to accompany him, much less to come down the stairs with him: which if he use in this manner, the other shallbe bound to thank him for his coming, & shall commend him for his civility. And if it happen when we go to visit some noble man, or other beloved of the court at his lodging, & that at our coming he is ready to come out of his house to ride abroad in the fields to take air, or to ride to the court to solicyte some of his affairs, or to ride abroad into the town for his pleasure, the diligent courtier must willingly accompany him, & offer him all the service he can: & so he shall deserve double thanks of him, th'one for his coming, & the other for his gentle offer & company. To visit the prince's servants, it is not the manner (for that they are always occupied in the prince's service) neither shall they have such time of leisure as other have. And because they have no time commodious to see them at home at their own houses, yet at the least the good courtier must needs accompany them at times when they go abroad. For there is more reason the esteemed courtier should make more of him that accompanieth him, than of the other that is too importunate & toublesome to him.   

¶ Of the good countenance and modesty the courtier should have, in beehaving himself at the prince or noble man's table in the time of his meal. Cap. seven.  
THose that are abiding still in prince's court, must in any case go seldom, or not at all, abroad to others tables, but always to keep their own. For that courtier that runneth from table to table, to eat of there's cost, to have his meat free, is not so sparing of his purse, as he is too prodigal and lavish of his good reputation. Therefore Eschines the philosopher being demanded one day, what a man should do to be counted good, he answered thus. To become a perfect Greek, he must go to the church willingly, and of good devotion, and to the wars of necessity: but to feasts and banquets, neither of will, nor of necessity, unless it be to do them honour and pleasure that do invite thee. Suetonius Tranquillus writeth, that themperor Augustus prohibited in Rome, that no man should convite each other, to feast, or banquet with an other, but if his friend would do him the honour to come to his feast, that then he should send him home to his house, of that meat he should have had at the feast and banquet with them at their houses. And when he was asked of certain of his friends what he meant to make this law: he gave them this answer. The cause that moved me, good friends, to forbid plays, and banquets in Rome was: because in play, no man can keep himself from swearing, & terrible blaspheming the name of god: and in banquets every man is geeven to detect and defame his neighbour. Cicero reconteth of Cato the Censor, that he lying in his death bed, at the mercy of god, should say these words. Four things I remember I have done in my life, wherein I have rather showed myself a voluptuous & negligent Barbarian, than a wise & good Roman citisin, for the which I find myself sore grieved.  
The first is this. For that I spent a whole day & forgot to serve the gods, & did not profit my common weal in any thing, which I should never have done. For it is as great a dishonour for a philosopher to be counted an idle & negligent person: as it is for a noble heart, to be counted a rank coward.  
The second is for that safely I might once have gone by land, & perilously I hazarded myself upon the water. A thing which I should well have let alone. For never no wise man should ever have put himself into peril, unless it were only for the service of the gods, for the increase of his honour, or for the defence of his country.  
The third is, that I opened once a great secret, & matter of importance to a woman, which I aught less to have done then all the rest. For in grave matters, & things of counsel, there is no woman capable to give counsel, & much less to take it, & least of all to keep it secret.  
The fourth was, that an other time I was contented to be overcome by a friend of mine that earnestly invited me to his house to dinner, & thereupon I went with him, which I should not have done. For to say the troth, there was never famous nor worthy person that went to eat in an other man's house, but that he diminished his liberty, hasarding also his gravyty and reputation to the rumour & brute of others. The which words being so wisely spoken by the prudent Cato, were well worthy to be noted & carried away, & so much the more, that being now drawing to his last home, & even in his last breathing hour he only spoke of these four things & no more, whereof, although he were a Roman, yet he showed to us a repenting mind. But woe is me, that albeit I bear the name of a christian, yea & that I am so in deed, yet in that last day when nature summons me, I fear me, & believe assuredly I shall have cause to repent me of more than four things. Now by these things heretofore recited we may easily conjecture, that albeit we are contented to be entreated & requested in many things, yet in this only to go to others tables to feast. & in strange houses we should not be entreated, but rather compelled & against our wills. And where the courtier is forced by importunancy to accept the bidding, without offering himself before, he deserveth as great thanks of the bidder for his coming, as the other did in bidding him. For if it should not be so, it should seem rather a dinner for strangers that travels by the way, then for noble men and gentlemen that comes from the court. For that day the courtier granteth to dine with any man, the same day he bindeth himself to be beholding to him that bids him: for although he come to him of good will, yet to acquit his courtesy done him, he is bound of necessity. Also it is a small reputation (and worthy great reproach) that a courtier make his boast he hath eaten at all the tables and officers boards in the court, & that no man can say he hath once been at dinner or supper with him at his own house. And truly I remember I knew once a courtier that might dispend above two hundredth ducats by year, who told me, & assured me he never bought stick of wood to warm him with in his chamber, nor pot to seethe his meat in, neither spit to roast with all, nor that ever he had any cater for his provision, save only that he had made a register of many noble men's boards, amongst whom he equally divided his gardeners & suppers. By means whereof he saved all his charges, save only his men's board wages. But what vileness or discurtesy cooled equal the misery & shame of this careless courtier? Sure not that of the meanest & poorest slave of the world, the liveth only by his higher: no it deserveth not to be compared unto it. For to what end desire we the goods of this world, but that by them we may be honoured, relieve our parents & kinsmen, and thereby also win us new friends? what state or condition so ever he be of, that hath enough & abundance, we are not bound to esteem the more of him for that, nor to do him the more honour, but only for that he spendeth it well, & woorshipfully, and for his honour, if he be honourable. And this we speak of gentleman as of cytisyn. And he that in court makes profession to dine at other men's tables, I dare undertake if they dine betimes on the holly day, he will rather lose service in the morning, than dinner at noon. And if any friend come to lie with these sort of courtiers, & that he be but newly come to the court, strait ways he will have him with him to dinner, and bring him to salute the gentleman where he dines that day, saying that he was bold to bring his kinsman and friend with him to salute him, and all this is not so much to bring him acquainted with him, as it is to spare his meat at home for both. And yet they have an other knack of court finer than this. They flatter the pages & servants, because they should ever give them of the best wine at the table, & with certain familiar nods & sweet words they entertain the lords, showers, & carvers, & make much of them, that they should set before them full dishes & of the best and deintiest meat. There are also some of these courtiers that to be well waited upon at the table, & to make them his friends, do sometimes present the steward with a velvet cap, the showers with a pair of washed or perfume gloves, the pages with a sword girdle, and the butler's or cooberd keepers with some other pretty reward or devise. And it chanceth oft times in noble men's houses that there are so many gests to dine and sup with him daily, that many times the board will not hold them all by a great number: which when they once perceive, to see how quickly & with what speed the courtiers take their places to set them down & to be sure of a room, it is a world to see it. But oh I would to god they were so happy & diligent to go to the church & hear a sermon, as they are busy to get them stools to sit at the table. And if perhaps a courtier come late, and that the table be all ready full, and the lurch out, yet he will not be ashamed to eat his meat nevertheless. For albeit he can not be placed at his ease yet he is so bold & shameless, that rather than fail he will sit of half a buttock, or beehynd one at the table. I remember I saw once at a noble man's board three courtiers set upon one stool, like the four sons of Amon, and when I rebuked them for it, and told them it was a shame for them, they answered me merely again, that they did it not for that there wanted stools, but to prove if need were if one stool would bear them three. Such may well be called greedy gluttons, & shameless prowlers, without respect or honesty, that when they are dead, would be buried in the highest place of the church: & when they are alive, little force at whose table they sit, or how they sit, little regarding their honour or estate. Truly for him that is poor and needy, to seek his meat and drink where he may come by it best it is but meet: but for the gorgeous courtier, be decked with gold, be buttoned & be iewelled, jetting in his velvets & silks, to beg & seek his dinner daily at every man's board, being nobly & honourably entertained of the prince, & able to bear his countenance: what reproach, defame, & dishonour is it to him? He that useth daily to run to other men's tables, is oft times forced to sit lowest at the board upon a broken stool, & to be served with a rusty knife, to eat in foul dishes, & to drink for a change hot water, & wine more than half full of water, & to eat door bread, & that that of all others yet is worst of all, every one of the servants looks over the shoulders on him, & are angry with him in their minds. Truly he that with these conditions goeth abroad to seek his dinner, were better in my opinion to fast with bread & water at home, then to fill his belly abroad. But such men's reward, that haunts men's houses in this manner, is this in the end, that the noble men to whose houses they come to, are offended with them, the stewards of the house murmur at them, the pages & servants mocks them, & laughs them to scorn, the tasters & cup bearers chafe with them in their minds, the cubberd keepers wonder at them, the clarks of the kychyn thinks them importunate and shameless creatures. Wherefore it followeth (who soever will observe it) that so soon as the servants see him once come into the dining chamber, some of them hides the stool where he would sit down, others set before him the worst meat of the board & the filthiest dishes they have, & therefore he that may have at home at his house his poor little pyttance well dressed, a fair white table cloth, a bright knife, new & white bread, wood & candle in the winter, & other necessaries: if he like better to go from table to table, from kychyn to kychyn, & from one buttery to an other, I will suppose he doth it for great spare & hardness, or for want of honesty & good manners. Now he that keeps an ordinary house, & remains always at home, may dine if it be in the summer season, in his shirt if he list, he may sit when he will, and where it please him, he drinks his wine fresh, & hath the flies driven from his table with the ventola, he disdaigneth the court & noble men's boards, keeping his own as frank and as sparing as he list, & no man to gain say him: yea & after meat he is at liberty to sit still, & take his ease, or to walk abroad in the shade as he wil And in winter if perhaps he be were, he strait shifts him, & changes all his clothes, gets him a furred night gown on the back of him, & a pair of warm slippers to heat his cold feet with all, he eats his meat warm & smoking hot, & takes that he likes best, he drinks white wine, red wine or claret wine as he thinks good, and need never to care for them that behold him. And therefore so great privileges as those be of liberty, the courtier should never refuse to buy them for his money, much less for the gain of a meals meat he should leave to enjoy them. But if the courtier will needs determine to visit noble men's boards, he must be very ware, that in coming to a noble man's table, he do not so much commend his fare & ordinary, that he complain of other men 3 tables where he hath fed. For it is a kind of treason to defame & sclavader those, whose houses they are wont to visit oft. And when he is set at the table, the courtier must behave himself modestly, he must eat temperately, and finely, he must delay his wine with water, and speak but little: so that those that are present can not but praise him for his temperancy and sober diet, but also for his wisdom and moderate speech. To feed mannerly is to be understand, not to blow his nose in his napkin, nor to lean his arms upon the table, not to eat to leave nothing in the dish, not to find faults with the cooks, saying the meat is not enough, or not well dressed. For it were a great shame for the courtier to be noted of the waiters, to be a belly gut and to be counted a gross feeder. There are some also that make themselves so familiar and homely in the house, that they are not contented with that is served them in the dish, but shamefully they pluck that to them that is left in other dishes, so that they are esteemed for jesters, no less sawsy and malapert in their order, then insatiable in their beastly eating. The good courtier must also take heed he lay not his arms to fair on the table, nor that he make any noise with his teeth or his tongue, nor smack with his mouth when he eateth, and that he drink not with both his hands on the cup, nor cast his eyes too much upon the best dishes, that he knaw, nor tear his bread with his teeth, that he lick not his fingers, nor adoone eating before others, nor to have too greedy an appetite to the meat or sauce he eats, and that in drinking he gulp not with his throat. For such manner of feeding, rather becometh an alehouse, than a noble man's table. And although the courtier can not go over all the dishes that comes to the board, yet at least let him prove a little of every one, and then he must praise the good cookry & fine dressing of them al. For commonly the noble men & gentlemen that invite any to their board, take it uncourteously, & are ashamed if the invited praise not their meat and drink they give them, and not only the noble men are ashamed of it, but also the other officers that have the charge to see it well dressed, & in good order. Always he that eateth at an other man's table, to do as he ought, should praise the worthiness of him that bade him (yea though perhaps he made a lie) and commend the great care and diligence of his officers in furnishing his table with so good meats, and in setting on it forth in so good order. I say not without a cause that sometime a praise with a lie may well stand togethers, sense we see some noble men's tables so slender furnished, and that his ordinary should seem rather a preparative supper and diet for a sick man that means to take physic in the next morning, than an ordinary, or dinner for Easter day. And therefore I say, that of right the lords and masters are pleased, when they here their officers and servants commended. For they choose most commonly such a steward, as they knew to be wise, & courteous of nature: a treasurer, true and faithful: a purueier, expert and diligent: a butler, hasty and melancony: the groom of his chamber, painful and trusty: his secretary, wise & secret: his chappleyn simple, & his cook fine & curious. For many think it more glory to have an excellent cook in their house, then to have a valiant captain, to keep a strong piece, or hold. They are contented in court that noble men's chappleins be rather simple then over wise, or well learned. For if he read but little, he hath the sooner say service, & therewith also is more fit to drudge and do service about the house. Now therefore continuing our beegoonne purpose, the courtier that eateth at other men's tables, must see he drink little, and that his wine be well delayed with water. For wine tempered with water, bringeth two commodities: th'one, it makes him sober that drinks it, and shall not be overseen: tother, he shall not dystemper himself, that the waiters have any occasion to laugh at him. If it should hap sometimes that he found the wine well watered before, that it had stood a pawling long, or that it were some what sharp or sour, or that the water were to hot: the good courtier should not therefore immediately complain and find fault at the table, for so he should shame the servants, and make them angry with him, and also displease their master. Truly it is a grief to suffer it, to see that he that hath nothing at home in his own house, either to eat or drink, will yet look to be well used at an other man's house, and is never satisfied. I speak it for certain undiscreet courtiers, and wanting judgement, that being at any man's board, (without any shame) dare dispraise the cooks, and speak ill of them, if perhaps the taste of their porridge and meat mislike them, and that it be not good, and according to their appetit: and of the butler's, if the wine be not cold and fresh: of those that weight above, if every thing they call for, be not done at a beck and quickly: of the stewards of the house, if they be not served immediately: and of the boys and pages, if they give them not drink suddenly: of the carvers, if they carve them not to their liking: and also with the clarks of the kychyn, if they see them not served with meat enough, that there be enough lest upon the table. So that the noble men's officers (for the more part) have more trouble and displeasure, by the discontentation of those that come to their master's table, than they have by the evil words their masters speaks to them. And for this respect therefore no man ought to be so bold as once to open his lips to complain of any want in an other man's house, as if they serve him with claret wine, rather than with white: or with white, than claret. For a right and perfect courtier, should not set his appetit in the taste nor variety of wines, or meats in an others house. I grant that it is very fit, and lawful for young courtiers, to run well, to leap far, to throw the bar of Iron, to dance well, to ride a horse well to manedge and give him his career well, and to turn well, to handle his weapon well, and to break a staff well, and otherwise to help himself with all manner of weapons: but for one to defy an other in drinking, it should be a great sacrilege of the courtier. The scythians, as ratifieth Trogus Pompeius, were so sober and modest in eating and drinking at their meats, that it was a foul fault among them to break wind, or belch. And therefore now a days we find few scythians, but many drinkers, which depart from the feast so full freight, as immediately when they are come home, they unload their charged stomach, and lay open all that they have eaten and drunken. Wherefore he that useth to drink clean, & pure water, is at more liberty, than those that drink wine simply, without compound. For excessive drinking of wine, doth not alonely trouble & distemper the brain & judgement of the drinker: but further discovereth to you, great & horrible vices. Therefore yet touching our matter, I say once again, that it is a fond dispute, and argument, to prove which of the wines were best, pleasant, and most sweetest, & which is oldest or newest, sharp or hard, soft or sweet, clearest or darkest, or of best taste or quickest savour. For to judge of the taste of wines, & to know the goodness and perfection of it, rather (to say truly) belongeth to a taverner or vintner, then rightly to an honest courtier. And it is fit, and more decent also for him, to talk of arms and chivalry, then to deal in discourse of Bacchus' feasts. What a mockery, & foolish nicety is it of him, that not only drinks water alone, but also cannot drink it in that cup, where there hath been wine filled before. He shall also be very circumspect that is bidden to a strangers house, that he drink not so deep at a draft, that he leave nothing in the cup, neither that he drink so long as he hath breath, and the water stand in his eyes again. For the grave and sober courtier should never drink, till he might no more, nor till there were none left. Also when he is at the table, he should not enter in argument and dispute with any, neither should he be obstinate in opinion, and much less use filthy or uncomely talk: and he must also bridle nature much, that he cry not out in laughing as some do. For like as it soundeth to his reproach, to be noted a glutton, and drunkard: it is in like case far worse, to be accounted a fool, and a jester.  
Also it prevaileth little that a courtier be moderate, and honest in eating, if he be dishonest, and insolent in his talk. For many times it happeneth at noble men's boards, that they take more pleasure in some, then in other some: not to see them eat and drink well, but to hear them tell lies, and to be pleasant at the board. Therefore as we have said, the wise courtier should praise and commend all that he seeth served at an other man's table, and it is not lawful for him to dislike or dispraise it. And further because he is fed at an other man's charge, he must of necessity take all in worth that is geeven him, and set before him, and not to look to have that that he desireth. And when there is any question moved at the table of the best and most delicate dishes, & of the finest cooks, and of the new kinds of broths & sauces, & from whence the fattest capons come, it shall not be fit for the wise courtier to say in that all that he knoweth & understandeth. For how much honour it is for him to be able to talk in martial feats, or chivalry: so much more dishonour & reproach it is to him, to be skilful in dressing of meats, and all to fill the belly. I remember that being one day at a bishops board, I hard a knight make great boast & vaunt, that he cooled make seven. manner of fricasies, iiii. kinds of pies, xii. sorts of sauces, and x. of fruit tarts, and xii. divers ways to dress eggs: but to hear him tell these things was not to be accounted of so much, as the gestures and countenance he made in telling them. For he did lively show with his hands the present making of them, the eating of them, and the right tasting of them with his tongue. And because it happeneth many times that in some noble man's house there is not like fare and entertainment that an other hath, the civil courtier should not be so dishonest, as to make report he leaveth that noble man's table, to go to an others that is better served. For the worthy courtier should not haunt that table where he fareth best, but where he findeth himself best welcome, and esteemed. Ah how many noble men and knights sons are there, that spare not to go to any man's board for his meat and drink, yea though it fall out they be their father's enemies: and they do it not in respect to reconcile them, and their father's togeethers, but rather for a good meals meat, or more aptly to say, to fill their bellies with dainties.   

¶ What company the courtier should keep, and how he should apparel himself. Cap. viii.  
THe wise Courtier, both in court and out of court, & in all places where he cometh, must take great regard he accompany with none, but with wise, and virtuous men. For if he do not, he can not win nor acquire such honour by his well doing, as he shall lose his credit, by keeping ill company. And therefore he shall enforce himself always to be in the presence and company of virtuous and noble men, and shall confer with the most grave, wise, and honest gentlemen of the court: For using this way, he shall bind them to him, by reason of his daily access to them: and he shall purchase himself a good opinion of them, besides the good example he shall leave to others to tread his steps, and follow his course. For what is more true, then when a young gentleman cometh newly to the court, you shall see immediately a company of other young fools, a company of amorous squires, light and idle persons, a company of troublesome jesters, and covetous praters, besides other young fry in court, that when they know a new come courtier (namely being of great living) They will seek to attend upon him, and train him to the lure of their affects and manner, bringing him to like of their qualities and conditions. Wherefore cunningly to shake of the rout of these needy greedy retainers, he must altogether feed them with fair words, & show them good countenance, & yet notwithstanding seek by all policy he can to fly their fellowship & company. Noble men's sons knights sons, & gentlemen's sons, may not think their friends sendeth them to the court, to learn new vices, and wicked practices, but to win them new friends, and obtain the acquaintance of noble men whose credit and estimation, with the prince may honour and countenance them, and by their virtues and means, may after a time be brought into the prince's favour also, and daily to rise in credit and reputation amongst others. Therefore such fathers as will send their children to the court, unless they do first admonish them well how they ought to behave themselves, ere that they recomend them to to the charge and oversight of some dear and especial friend of theirs, that will reprove them of their faults when they do amiss. I say they were better to lay irons on there feet, and send them to. Bedlam or such other like house where mad men be kept. For if they be bound there in irons, it is but to bring them to their wits again, and to make them wise: but to send them to the court lose, and at liberty without guide, it is the next way to make them fools, and worse than mad men, assuring you, no greater danger nor injury can be done to a young man, them to be sent to the court, and not committed to the charge of some one that should take care of him, and look straightly to him. For otherwise, it were impossible he should be there many days, but he must needs run into excess and foul disorder, by means whereof he should utterly cast himself away, and heap upon their parents heads (continual curses, and griefs, during their lives. And therefore their fathers) supposing after they have once placed their sons in the court, that they should no more cark nor care for them, nor reckon to instruct them to be wise and urrtuous) find when they come home to them again, that they are laden with vices, ill complexioned, worse appareled, their clothes all tottered and torn, having vainly and fond spent and played away their money, and worst of all forsaken their masters, leaving them displeasid with their service. And of these I would admonish the young courtier, because he must of necessity accompaigny with other young men, that in no case he acquaint himself with vicious and ill disposed persons, but with the honest, wise, and courteous: amongst whom he shall put upon him a certain grave and stayed modesty, fitting himself only to their companies, being also apt and disposed to all honest and virtuous exercices, decent for a right gentleman, and virtuous courtier, shunning with his best policy, the light, foolish, and vain toys of others. And yet notwithstanding these, my intent and meaning is not to seem to persuade or teach him to become an hippocrite, but only to be courteous, honest, and well beloved of other young gentlemen: winning this reputation withal, to be esteemed for the most virtuous and honestist among them, gallant and lively in his disports and pastimes, of few words, and small conversation amongst boasters and backbiters, or other wicked and naughty persons: not to be sad among those that are merry, nor dumb among, those that talk wisely, & of grave matters: nor to believe he should be accounted a trim courtier, to take his book in his hands to pray, when others will take the ball to play, or go about some other honest recreation or pastime for exercise of the body. For so doing, they would rather take him for a fool and an Ippocrite, then for a virtuous and honest young man.  
Being good reason the child should use the pleasures and pastimes of a child, young men, disports and acts of youth: and old men also grave and wise recreations fit for them. For in the end do the best we can, we can not fly the motions of the flesh, wherein we are borne into this world. These young gentlemen courtiers must take heed that they become not troublesome, importunate, nor quarelers, that they be no filchers liars, vacabonds, and slanderers, nor any way geeven to vice. As for other things, I would not seem to take from them their pastime and pleasure, but that they may use them at their own pleasure. And in all other things lawful and irreprovable, observing time and hours convenient, and therewithal to accompaigny themselves with their fellows and companions. Also the young courtier that cometh newly to the court, must of necessity be very well appareled, according to his degree and calling, and his servants that follow him well appointed. For in court men regard not only the house and family he cometh of, but mark also his apparel and servants that follow him. And I mislike one thing very much, that about the court they do rather honour and reverence a man brave and sumptuous in apparel being vicious, than they do a man that is grave, wise, and virtuous. And yet nevertheless the courtier may assure himself of this, that few will esteem of him, either for that he is virtuous or nobly borne, if he be not all so sumptuously appareled and well accompanied, for then only will every man account and esteem of him. Wherefore I durst take upon me to swear, if it were possible to take oath of our bodies, that they would swear they needed them not, much less desire so large compassed gowns, that every puff of wind might swell them as the sails of a ship, neither so long that trailing on the ground they gather dust, and cast it into our eyes. Howbeit I think now adays these fine men wear then large and wide, and women long with trains upon the ground: because in the court and else where, no man makes reckoning of him that spendeth but orderly, and only upon necessaries to go cleanly withal: but him they set by, that is prodigal, excessive and superfluous. And who that in his doings and apparel is moderate, and proceedeth wisely: they hold him in court for a miserable and covetous man: and contrarily, he that is prodigal and lavish in expense, him they count a noble and worthy person. Albeit the courtier come of a noble house, and that he be young of years, rich, and wealthy, yet would I like better he should use rather a certain mean and measure in his apparel (wearing that that is comely and gentleman like) then others of most cost and worship. For like as they would count him a fool for wearing that he could not pay for: So they likewise would think him simple, if he ware not that that become him, and that he might easily come by. His apparel should be agreeable with his years, that is to say, on the holy days some more richer and braver than on the woorkydayes: and in the winter of the hottest furs: in the summer light garments of satin and damask: and to ride with, some others of lesser price and more durable. For as the wisdom of man is known by his speaking: so is his discretion discerned by his apparel. Let not the poor courtier study to wear or devise any new or strange fashioned garment, for if he be of that humour, he shall quickly undo himself, and give others occasion also to follow his light and vain invention. There are now adays found out so many strange ways to dress meat, and so many fashions and patterns of apparel, that now they have universities of tailors and cooks. What more greater vanity and lightness can there be then this? that they will not suffer the mother's gowns to be made fit for their daughters: saying that they are old and out of fashion, and that they use now a new kind of apparel & attire far from the old manner. And not withstanding these gowns be it in manner new, good, hole, clean, rich, and well made, and without weme, yet their daughters must needs have new gowns at their marriage. So that we may aptly say, that a new folly, seeks always a new gown, namely when they are light persons, without wit and discretion. And I pray you is it not a goodly sight in the court, to see a foolish courtier wear a demie cap, scant to cover his crown of his head, to have his beard marquizottyd, a payr of parfumed gloves on his hands, his shoes cut after the best fashion, a little cutted cape, his hose fair pulled out, his doublet sleeves bravely cut and pinct, his rapier and his dagger guilted by his side: and then on the other side the pestilens of penny he hath in his purse to bless him with, and besides he is deep in the merchants book for all those things he hath taken up of credit of him.  
Their nags foot clothes would not be so little and narrow, that should seem a friars hood, neither so great and large as the foot clothes of bishops moils. Also the courtier must see that his foot-cloth be good & hole, clean, and without spot, not tattered & seam rend. This we speak because there are some miserable courtiers that have their foot clothes thread bare, broken and seam rend, foul and dirty narro and all digged full of holes with their spurs. And therefore no man deserveth to be called a right courtier, unless he be fine and neat in his apparel he weareth, & also courteous and civil in his words and entertainment. And yet touching the rest of the furniture of their horse, or gelding, their harness and trappers must be kept black and clean, and they must look that the reins of the bridle be not broken nor unsewed, which I speak not without cause: for there are a number of courtiers that at primero will not stick to set up a jest of a .100. or .200. crowns, & yet will think much to give their poor horsekeepers twelve pence to by them a payr of reins. And truly the courtier (in my judgement) that is content to tie his hose with untagged points, to see his fire smoke when he should warm him, to ride with broken reins, and to cut his meat at the table with a rusty knife, I would think him base borne, and rudely brought up. When the courtier will ride his horse, let him look ever before he take his back, that he have all his furniture fit for him, his main and tail finely comed, his styrrops bright glistering, his stirrup leathers strong, and his saddle well stuffed, & above all let him sit upright in his seat, and carry his body even, swerving of neither side, holding his legs still and keep his stirrup. For this name to be called Chivallier (signifieth in our tongue a rider of a horse) came first because he could ride and manedge his horse well, And when he would stir his legs to spur his horse, let him beware he stoop not forwards with his body, and when he doth spur his horse, let him not spur him low but high in the flanks, and whether he will run or stand still with his horse, let him always have his eye upon the rains, that in no case the rains, go out of his hand. And in giving his horse a career, let him not writhe his body, nor be to busy in beating or spurring his horse oft. For in his career, to know when to spur him, when to give him head, or to pull him back again, and to stop him, I have seen many take it upon them, but few in deed that ever were skilful and could do it well. Now the courtier being mounted on horse or moil, without his rapier by his side, seemeth rather a physician that goth to visit his sick patients, than a gentleman of the court that for his pleasure and disport rideth abroad through the streets.  
And if he were by chance intreatid by some noble man to accompany him or to ride beehind him of pleasure through the streets, every honest courtier ought not only to do it, but unasked to be ready to offer himself to wait upon him and go with him willingly. And let the fine courtier beware, that in giving his hand to a gentlewoman he be not gloved, and if she be a horseback, that he talk with her bare headed, to do her the more honour, and if she ride beehind him, and they chance to discourse togethers, let him never look back upon her to behold her, for that is a rude manner and a token of ill education. And one common courtesy there is among courtiers, that when they are in talk with ladies and gentlewomen and entertaining of them, they suffer them to do with them what they will, to reign over them, and to be overcomed in argument of them, and they hold it good manner to do them service, when they have any occasion offered to serve them. And when he shall accompany any gentlewoman to go a visitation with her, or to walk abroad for their pleasure through the streets, he must ride fair and softly, and if she should happen to keep him so long in talk till she should light, the good courtier must bear it courteously, and make a good countenance as though it grieved him nothing, sith we know very well, that when women beeginne once to talk, it is impossible for them to make an end, unless they be overtaken with night, or prevented by some other accident. He that willbe a courtier, must wear his shoes black and clean, his hose strait to his legs, and his garments without plight or wrinkle, his sword fair varnished, his sherts finely wrought, and his cap standing with a good grace. For the chiefest thing of court is, that noble men be rich in apparel, and the right courtiers fine and cleanly. It is not decent for a man to wear his slippers so long that the cork be seen, nor his garments till they be torn, nor fur till it be bare before, nor shirts till they be worn out, nor his cap till the turf be greasy, nor his coat till it be thread bare, nor his girdle till it be half broken. For the courtier may not only wear his garments to content himself, but also to like others that shall behold it. And after that he is once determined to go to the court, he must suppose to go thither well appareled, else they will not sure account him to be a right courtier. For in this case, excuse of poverty may not be alleged, for they will think them rather miserable, then poor courtiers. The good courtier may not spare in court, to spend afterwards at home: but he must pinch at home to be liberal afterwards in the court.  
And yet once again I return to recite, that for a courtier to come into the prince's favour, he may not any way be sparing or miserable, but rather honestly liberal, and bountiful. For seldom times concur these two things together, to be miserable, and yet with his misery to attain to the prince's favour. I remember I saw a friend of mine once in the court were a jerkin faced at the collar with martyrns, and they were all bare and greasy, and there was a certain portugal in the court (a pleasant companion) that came to this gentleman, and asked him properly, what fair Furs they were he ware about his neck: and this gentillman auswered him martirns: martens sir saith the portingall, me thinks they are rather like furs of Ash-wednesday, then of Shrovetewsday. And finely this portingall compared Mardi (that is tewsday) to his martrin surrs: & so likewise his martrin furs to Mardi. And sure he had great reason not to praise them, but greatly to rebuke him for them. For it had been more for his honour and worship, to have had the collar of his jerking lined with fair new white lamine, then with those old, stolen, dirty and swety martens. The brooches that our courtier must were in his cap must be very rich, and excellently wrought, and his devise or word that he will have about it such, that though every man may read it, yet few shall understand what it means. For such devices are ever lightly grounded of vain and fond toys, and therefore they should be somuch more secret and obscure. For sure the fault is great enough in a man to deviseyt, though he do not beewray it. Also his servants that waits upon him must needs go handsomely appareled, & sign & neat in their apparel. For it is small honour for the master to be well appareled, if he let his servants go beggarly. There are many courtiers that have their men following on them with thread bare cloaks, torn coats, foul shirts, broken hose, and rend shoes. So that these poor servingmen, if ●or one month they were that their master giveth them, for three other months after they were their own proper flesh. It is no wise man's part, but a mere folly to keep a greater train than he is able. For that courtier that hath always many servants waiting on him, and they going tottered and torn, having no good thing to put on their backs, (or at least that they have is but mean and simple) shall sooner win the name of a broker, that prefarreth other men to service, then of a master that keepeth servants himself. The good courtier must give unto all his servants that serve him, either apparel, or wages: for that servant that serveth only in house for bare meat and drink, shall never serve truly while he doth serve. And therefore let the courtier look well to it, that he entertain no man into his service, but that first he agree with bim for standing wages: unless it be that he be some nephew, or kinsman, or some of his dear friends: else in the end, if he be a noble man (unless he do so) he shall find that at the years end he shall spend him more, than if he gave him ordinary wages, and beesids they will not be contented with him, although it be to his greater charge. Also let him consider well, if it happen that (when he hath need of servants to wayre upon him) some brother or neighbours child be offered to him, whether he shall receive him or no. For after he hath him in his house, either he shallbe compelled to bear with his faults, and disorders he shall do, or else desirous to rebuke and reform him, or to send him home again, he shall but win anger and displeasure of his father, or his proper kinsfolks. surely such courtiers as take those kind of men into their service, have a great deal of pain and trouble with them. And truly it is too great a cruelty, that the courtier should be driven to bear the dishonesty of his man the serves him, when his own father could not away with his conditions. Some fathers there are so blinded, and sotted with fatherly affection, and difficult besides to please, that they are not contented that the courtier hath received their son into his service, and that he entreat him as if he were his own kinsman: but further they would have the courtier his master bear withal his dishonesty and lewdness: and if they ran not frame the young man to their mind as they would have them, yet at lest they would have his master to pity him, for that he is but young and hath no knowledge, and for a while to wink at all his faults, in hope of a better amendment.  
The courtier may not only see that his men be well in apparel, but he must provide also that they have meat enough to put in their bellies. For the servants that are starved for meat, are wont to do small service, and besides that to complain much. Let him beware also he do not take into his service any lewd persons busy bodies, and unquiet men, cutpurses, Ruffians, quarrelers or whoremongers: if he find that he have any such in his house, let him turn him out of service strait: for by keeping such mates in his house, his house shall never be well ordered, there shall ever be quarreling and swearing amongst them, and besides that, the neighbours and common people shallbe offended. Let the good courtier foresee that he have no cards nor dice in his house to occupy the servants. For these thriftless servants that are geeven to play, begin first to play, and afterwards they learn to steal. Let the courtier be well advised also when he chideth with his servants that he be not too loud; that his voice may be hard abroad, as all the hosts and innkeepers are. For in being too loud he should be more dishonoured, then blamed, for the ill words he giveth his man. Let him take heed also that he do not call his servants drunkards, thieves, villains, jews, nor other such like names of reproach. For these and such other like uncourteus words are of small correction, and yet they bring displeasure and disdaigne enough. And if the courtier can not give bountifully, and pleasure his officers and servants that are about him, yet at least (how so ever the world go) let him not be behind with them in paying them their whole wages due to them: for so it might lightly happen, that the servants would begin to make complaints of him, and that unhappily in the end he might come to die with misery in his enemies hands.  
There is no enemy in the world so cruel, nor so much to be feared, as the servant that is not contented with his master, for as he is the thief of the house, so knoweth he very well what piece of his master's harness is wanting for his body to set on him, when he would in that place have an arrow for his token. Therefore soon so as it cometh to the courtiers ears that any of his servants complaigne of him, either let him give him all that he would have, or put him out of his house immediately. For if he do it not, let him be assured that that servant will never leave till he have him put in discord with his friends, and defame with others. And above all things we have spoken of yet, the courtier must chiefly look what his man is he trusteth with his honour: for in this case many are wont not only to be deceived, but also many times scorned. And there are many that will put their goods into the hands and trust of a man, but their honour, and things of greatest weight and importance, they will sooner commit to the trust of a young foolish, and simple page, then of a wise and stayed man. And therefore how much more his business is of weight and importance, somuch less should it be revealed to the secrecy of a boy. And if he do otherwise, I can assure him he shall sooner be spoken of of every man, than he shall have his business dispatched. The courtier must also have his chamber well hanged, and finely kept, and clean, and his house and family all in good order, and every man quiet. For the cleans of the house, and civility of the servants, are a great token and witness of the nobility of the master. In the courtiers chamber where he lieth, the bed must first of all be made, and the cloth before the door let down, the chamber swept, the hangings and other stuff that is there in good order, with some parfumes or other sweet odours, so that it should laugh upon a man that comes into it: for there are some in the court so filthy and so il furnished of hangings and other stuff, that if any man come to see their chambers, they seem rather sheep coats, than courtiers chambers.   

¶ Of the wise manner the courtier should have to serve and honour the ladies and gentle women, and also to satisfy and please the ushers and porters of the king's house. Cap. ix.  
LEt the good courtier be always circumspect that he seek not any favour at the justices hands, but that that is lawful. For if either he be denied, he shall return with shame: or being granted, he shall leave his consciens to gage. In suits and controversies between men of religion in the spiritual court, let him in no case deal. For at the first show they seem very easy to the judge, but when they come to unripping of the matter, to judge of them, than they are matters of great charge and consciens.  
There were many towers in Iherusalem, to any of which the devil might have brought Jesus' christ to have persuaded and tempted him to have thrown himself down: howbeit he would not bring him but to the pinnacle of the church, to let us under stand thereby, that he took more pleasure in one sin done in the church, or of holy persons then of ten committed in the world, and of worldlings. And notwithstanding the courtier do not see that the reason is of his side that is recommended to him, he need never pass for that, to entreat for him, or to charge his own proper consciens: as for example. If any man entreat him to speak to the judge, or to write him a letter. For many times we see the judges make much more account of one only word or letter from him that is in favour & estimation with the prince, them they will of the religion & justice of an other man. And always writ in this form. Right worshipful or honourable, the letters of favour that shallbe requested of you. etc. that by those words the judge may know, that for that they were requested & beesought and not that it should seem you write for affection, for doing otherwise, that that you shall write to him to satisfy others in, he will think that you do it, because either for reason or duty he should perform your letters. The like consideration and modesty a good prince should have in that he doth command: the like and self same should the esteemed and favoured of the court observe in his requests he maketh. For many times the requests of the beloved in court are with more celerity performed, than the comissions of the prince are accomplished. Let the courtier always have in his mind also, that if he meet with any nobleman or Knight by the way, he do in any condition return with him, and keep him company, although the nobleman or Knight strive with him, not to have him go back with him, yet let him not suffer himself to be overcome, to let all men know, that notwithstanding the noble man or Knight pass him in degree or apparel, yet he shall not exceed him in courtesy and civility. This company is to be understanded to be offered the knight when he rideth in to the city of pleasure, and not when he goth alone, and showeth by his forehead an unpleasant countenance troubled in his mind. Yet the courtier nevertheless must offer himself to accompaigne him, which if he do accept, he may not then importune or withstand him to do it: For where he should think to be accounted courteous, they would repute him a troublesome man. When the courtier shall accompaigny any noble man of the court, let him not then seem to contend with other courtiers for place, and honour in his presence, who should be before, or behind an other. For this strife coming to the noble man's ears whom they accompaginy, it might easily happen, that that compaigne, that came to wait upon him, and to do him honour and service, should then seem to dishonour and offend him. little knoweth he what honour meaneth, when in these trifles he seeketh it. For the wise and courteous courtier, hath not only to seek honour with them, with whom he rideth cheek by cheek: but also with those that are beloved of the prince. Now when the noble man is accompaignyed and that he is come hard by the court, you courtiers, be ready to light of your horse quickly before him, and when he shall likewise take his horse again, be as ready to take your horse back before him. For doing thus, you shallbe near about him when he lighteth of on his horse, and afterwards help him when he mounteth on his horse again. If perhaps at the coming in of a chamber, the lords servants want consideration, or that they remember not to hold open the cloth over the door, the good and diligent courtier should suddenly put himself before him, to life and hold it up. For many times it is as great an honour for a courtier to be accounted one of good manner and bringing up in the court, as out of the court it is to be reputed a great and famous captain in wars. And seence the courtier is determined to accompaigne some noble man to the court, he is also bound by the laws of the court to wait upon him home again, which if he do, the noble man shallbe more beholding to him for the attendance he hath geeven upon him, then for his compaigne to ride with him. If any came to speak with the courtier that were equal with him in degree or meaner of calling or condition than himself, it is one of the first and chiefest points of civility and good manner, not to suffer him to open his lips to speak to him, before he have his cap on his head, for one to talk commonly with the other with his cap in his hand, is of great authority and reverence, as from the duty of the subject to the prince, or that of the servant to the master. The good courtier must ever speak again to him that speaketh to him, do him reverence that doth him reverens, put of his cap to him that putteth of his, and this he must do without any respect that he is his friend or foe. For in the effects of good manner, no man ought to be so much an enemy, that the enmity should break the bounds of courtesy and humanity. It is rather fit for common persons, then for courtlike gentlemen, in so mean things to show their emmitt. For to say truly, the good courtier should not show the enmity of his heart, by putting on or pulling of his cap, but by taking sword in hand to revenge his quarrel. And if the courtier were in the church, court, or in the chapel of the prince, and set, and an other gentleman happily cometh in the same place where he is, he must do him the courtesy to give him his place and seat & to pray him to sit down, yea and if there were no other place fit for the gentleman to sit in, and that of courtesy also he would not offer him that injury to accept it: yet at the least let the courtier do what he may to make him take a piece of his stool, that parting with him his seat, the other may also come to part with him his heart. If those that were set hard by the courtier beegonne to talk in secret togethers, he should rise from thence, or go a little aside from them. For in the court they will say he is ill taught and brought up, and wanteth civility and good manners that will seem to hearken to any bodies tale or secrets. The courtiers must have friendship also with the porters to open him the court gates that are kept fast chained in, that they be contented to suffer their moil or foot cloth nag to enter into the utter court. And the like must be practised with the gentlemen ushers of the chamber, and captain of the guard, to whom he must do a thousand pleasures that they may respect his person, & let him come in when he will. And the next way to win this friendship, and to continue them friends and to be welcome of them, is to feast them otherwhile, sometime with a dinner, some time with a banquet, but especially not to sail them of a new years gift on neweyears' day, what trifle or present so ever it be. That courtier that is not acquainted with the ushers, and doth them no pleasures, may be well assured that those above in the hall, will make him tarry in the utter court: and those that stand at the gate of the chain, they will make him light in the mire. With the ushers of the privy chamber, he must needs deal honourably withal as to come and see them sometimes, and to do them much honour, in giving them some fair jewel or presenting them with a gown or coat cloth of silk or velvet. And thus he shallbe assured they will not only let him into the privy chamber, but they will also procure him to speak with the prince even at his best leisure. To make the yeomen of the guard also that maketh gentlemen give place, and stand aloof of from the prince, yet can not be but very profitable for the courtier to have them his friends. For many times they may help us to a fit place to talk with the King. it is such a trouble and charge to get to speak with the prince, that if we have not great friendship with these we have spoken of, and that we do them some pleasures before we come to the court, they will shut the doors against us, & we shall come home ashamed of ourselves. For a courtier to be acquainted with the ladies and gentlemen of the court, it is rather of pleasure then of necessity, albeit it be true, that the young courtier that serveth not some lady or dame in court shallbe rather blamed of his shamefastness and cowardly heart, then approved for his modesty and gravity. In deed for a young gentleman that is rich, noble, and free hearted, it is an honest and comely entertainment to be come some lady's servant of the court: But for him that is poor, living in disgrace, and out of favour, let him utterly fly the love of courtly dames, and slick to the poor friendship of devout nuns. For the property of courtly mistresses is to empty their servants purses, & the manner of religious nuns to beg always of him that visits her. The courtier that offerith himself to serve any lady a or gentilwoman in court doth bind himself to a strait religion: For some times he must kneel by her of one knee, sometimes he must stand upon his feet before her, and always he must have his cap in his hand, and he may not speak to her unless she command him first, and if she ask any thing of him, he is bound to give it her strait if he can, and though she frown upon him, yet he may not be angry with her, so that the courtier must needs employ his hole person, and goods, in serving of her that he loves. For the courtier that is married, sure it is not fit for him to love any other woman then his wife, neither is it honest for the woman to be served with any married courtier. For these manner of loves are to no other end, but for him to be merry with her, and for her to get somewhat of him. Let the courtier be very wise that he do not love & serve such a gentle woman, whom he can not obtain to his wife, for otherwise it should be a great grief to him, and a more shame, to see an other before his eyes enjoy her and eat of that fruit, which he had to his great cost and charges made now a fruitful orchard. And if it happen that his mistress whom he sarueth be nobly borne, very fair of complexion, pleasant of condition, of good grace and behaviour in her conversation, very wise and fine in her doings: he may be well assured he shall never forget this grief and sorrow, and somuch more if he did love her withal his heart and unfeignedly. There is great difference between that we lose, and that we have: For if the heart lament for the loss of that we have: it beewayleth bitterly to lose that we love. Also the courtier must be advised that he tell not to any that his wife hath told him, or any thing that hath passed secretly between them: For women are of such a quality, that for any thing they do, they would never hear of it again willingly, and those secrets that an other comits to them of trust, they can never keep them secret. There is a law common beetwen women and their lovers: For if they go abroad, their lovers must attend upon their persons: and if they buy any thing in the street as they go, they are bound to pay for it: And if they be to late abroad, they must provide them of torches to bring them home with, and when the court removeth from place to place, theirs is the charged to defraud their expenses by the way: and if any do them injury, they are bound to revenge their quarrel: if they fall sick, they must do them a thousand pleasures and saruices: if any challenge be made in court of tilt, tourney, or barriers, they must be the first and best mounted and armed above others (if they may possible) withal not forgetting their Lady's colours and devise, offering themselves nobly to perform the challenge, giving them to understand, that for their sakes, they neither fear to adventure their lives, nor spare for any charged to do them all honour and service. With out doubt we may speak it truly, that he putteth himself to great peril and danger (what so ever he be) that serveth women. But when the wise courtier is now become a servant to any lady in court, he must beware in any case he entertain or serve any other than his mistress: For if he did otherwise, he should raise a mortal hate and discord between those women: by reason whereof many slanders and broils might ensue. It is a natural thing to all women, that to hate any man, a hundred will come to agree in one opinion: but to love him you shall not find two of one mind. The good courtier must covet the best he can to be always at the making ready of the King, and at his meat, and for two causes: The one for that he may be ready to do him service, and the other, for that at such a time they shall have an apt time to treat with the prince in any thing he will, if he have any occasion of business with him. And when the king is either at his meat, or that he be putting on his apparel, let the good courtier be circumspect he come not to near the table where he sitteth, nor that he touch the kings apparel he weareth on. For no man ought once presume to be so hardy to meddle with his meat, or his apparel, unless he be shower, or chamberlain.  
And if in this time of repast, or making him ready, there were present any jesters or fools, that said or did any thing to make them laugh: The good courtier must take heed that he laugh not to loud, as in such cases many are wont to do. For in such a case the prince would be better pleased at the modesty of the courtier, then at the knavery or folly of the fool.  
The honest courtier must not have a fool his friend nor his enemy: for to make him his friend, he is to dishonest, and too be his enemy, he is to vile and cowardly. I wish the courtier not to be angry with him, what so ever he doth: for many times it happeneth, that the friendship of a wise man doth not somuch benefit or pleasure: as the enmity and displeasure of one of these fools doth hurt. And if he will give them any thing (as he must needs) let him beware he give him not occasion to condemn his consciens, and that he stop their mouths: For the courtier that is a Christian, should give as much more to the poor to pray to god for him, as he should give to others to speak well of him to the King.  
When the King sneyses, and that the courtier be present, he must straight put of his cap, and bow himself in manner to the ground, but for all that he must take heed he say not christ help you, or god bless you, or such other like. For to do do any manner of courtesy or honour, is only pertinent to courtiers: But to say christ help, or god bless you, is the country manner. And if the King by chance should have any hear, or feather, or flee upon his clothes, or any other filthy thing about him: none but the chamberlein only should take it away, and none other courtier should once presume to take any thing from his back, or to touch his garment, neither any other person, unless it were in case to defend him. When the King is set at the table, the courtier may not come into the kitchen, nor much less lean upon the surveying board. For though he did it perhaps but to see the order of the survey and service of the prince: yet it may be suspected of some, he meant some worse matter, and thereby they should judge ill of him. If the prince have a felicity in hawking, the courtier must endeavour himself to keep a cast or two of good fawlcons: & if in hunting, than he must have good greyhounds. And when he is either a hawking or hunting with the king, he must seek to serve him so diligently that day, that he may both find him game to sport with, and procure for himself also favour at the prince's hand. Many times princes are so earnest of their game, and so desirous to kill that they hunt, that they are wont boldly to chase the beasts they hunt, and pursue them so, that oft-times they lose the sight of all the rest. In such a case the good courtier must ever have his eyes upon him, and rather seek to follow the king, then to take pleasure in hunting of other beasts. For in that case it shallbe a better hunting for him, to find out the king, and to be with him: then he should take pleasure in being alone with the heart. It may happen lightly, that the King galloping his horse upon the rocky stones, he might stumble at such a stone, as both the king and his horse should come to the ground: and at that time it could not be but very profitable for the courtier to be present. For it might so happen, that by means of the princes fall, (he being ready to help him) he might thenceforth beeginne to grow in favour and credit with the prince. The most part of those that delight to go a hunting, are wont commonly to eat their meat greedily, and drink out of measure, and beesids to shout and make a wonderful noise as they were out of their wits: which things the grave and wise courtier should not do: for they are rather fit for vacabonds, and Idle persons, that setteth not by their honesty: then they are for the honest courtier, that only desireth and endeavoureth by modest & wise be haviour to become great, and in favour.   

¶ Of the great pains and troubles the courtier hath that is toiled in suits of law, and how he must suffer, and behave himself with the judges. Cap. x.  
THere are in the court also divers kinds of men, that be not courtiers, and princes servants, but only are courtiers of necessity, by reason of suits they have with the council. And these manner of courtiers have as much need of council, as of help: for he that hath his goods in hazard, hath also his life in jeopardy.  
To speak of the divers and subtle ways of suffering, it is no matter worthy to be written with black ynk, but only with lively blood. For in deed if every one of these suitors, were forced to abide for his faith and believe those pains, troubles, and sorrows, that he doth to recover his goods: as much cruelty as tortures should Vagliadoti, and Gravata have, as ever had Rome in times past. In my opinion, I think it a hell to continue a long suitor. And surely we may believe, yea and swear to, that the martyrs executed in old time in the primitive church (which were many in number) did not suffer so much, neither felt such grief to lose their life, as doth now a days an honest man to see himself deprived of all his faculties. It is a great trouble and charge to recover any thing, but in the end of these two effects, a wise man suffereth and feeleth more the displeasures he receiveth, than he doth the goods he spendeth. And in my judgement to strive and contend is nothing else, but to bring matter to the heart to sigh and lament, to the eyes to weep, to the feet to go, to the tongue to complain, to the hands to spend, to entreat his friends to favour his cause, and to command his servants to be careful and diligent, and his body to labour continually. He that understandeth not the conditions of contention I will let him know they are these. Of a rich man, become poor: of a merry man, to be made melancholy: of a free man, a bond man: of a liberal man, a covetous man: of a quiet man, an unquiet person: and of a hateful, a desperate person. How is it otherwise possible, but the hapless suitor must become desperate? seeing the judge look upon him with frowning cheer, his goods to be demanded of him wrongfully, and that now it is so long a time he hath not been at home, and knoweth not yet whether sentence shallbe geeven with him or against him, and besides all this, that the poor man in his lingering suit hath spent so much, that he hath not left him six pence in his purse. If any of these troubles be enough to bring a man to his end, much more shall they be to make the poor man desperate, and weary of his life. So divers are th'effects, and success seen in matters of suit, that many times there is no wit able to direct them, nor goods to bring them to end. Nay we may boldly & truly say, that the laws are so many, and diffuse of themselves, and men's judgements so simple to understand them, that at this day there is no suit in the world so clear, but there is found an other law to put that in doubt, and make it void. And therefore the good and ill of the suitor, consisteth not so much in the reason he hath, as in the law which the judge chooseth to give judgement of. It is well that the suitor believe and think that he hath right, but the chiefest thing of importance is, that the judge also desire that he have his right. For that judge that favoureth my cause, and desireth to do me justice, he will labour & study to seek out some law, that shall serve my turn to restore me again to my right. To contend, is so profound a science, that neither Socrates to the Athenians, nor Solon to the Greeks, nor Numa Pompilius to the Romans, nor Prometheus to the Egyptians, nor Lycurgus to the Lacedæmonians, nor Plato to his disciples, nor Apolonius to the poets of Nemsis', nor Hiarcus to the Indians, cooled ever tech it them, and much less cooled they tell how to find any way to write it in their books of common wealth. The cause why these famous men did not find it, was because this science cooled not be learned by studying of divers books, nor by traveling through divers countries, but only by framing great suits and processes, and by infinite charge and expense of money. Happy, yea truly most happy were those ages, in which they neither knew, nor cooled tell, what strife or contentionment. For in deed from that time hitherto, the world hath fallen to decay, and chiefly since men have grown to quarrel and contend each other with his neighbour.  
Plato was wont to say, that in that common weal where there were found many Physicians, it was also an evident token that there were many vicious people: and likewise we may say that in the city where there are many suitors, it is to be thought it follows also, that there are many ill disposed people. That only may be called a blessed and fortunate common weal, where men live quietly, and have not to do with justices nor judges. For it is a true rule, when physicians are much frequented, and judges much occupied, that amongst that people there is little health, and less quiet. But to return to the troubles of our suitors, I say that the disciples of the famous Philosopher Socrates were not bound to be silent in Athens above two years, but the unfortunate suitors were bound to hold their peace ten years if their suits did continue so long. For albeit the judge do them open injury, yet they may not seem to complain, but rather say he thinketh he hath done him the best justice in the world. And if for his mishap, or plague of his offences, he would not so approve and speak them, let him be assured the judge will perceive it by his countenance, and afterwards let him know it by his judgement. Some suitors say they are great sinners, and I say they are saints. For of the seven deadly sins that are committed, only of three they are but to be accused. For in the other iiii. (although they would) they do not give him time nor leave to offend. How can the suitor ever offend in Pride, since he must poor man go from house to house with his cap in his hand, and all humility to solicit his cause? How can he ever offend in Avarice, sith he hath not many times a penny in his purse to by him his diver, nor to pay for the infinite draughts and copies proceeding out of the Chancery? How can he offend in Sloth and idleness, sith he consumeth the long nights only in sighs and complaints, and the whole day in trotting and trudging up and down? How can he offend in Gluttony since he would be content to have only to suffice nature, and not to desire pies, nor breakfastes, nor to lay the table every day? That sin they most easily and commonly offend in, is Ire, and in deed I never saw suitor patient: and although he be angry, we may not marvel at it a whit. For if ever once in the end of half a year he happen to have any thing that pleaseth him, I dare be bound every week after he shall not want infinite troubles to torment and vex him. These men also offend much in envy, for in deed there is no man that pleads but is envious, and this proceedeth many times to see an other man, by favour dispatched of his suit, that hath not continued only two months in court a suitor: and of his that hath continued above two years since it began, not a word spoken. They offend also in the sin of backbiting, and murmuring against their neighbours. For they never cease complaining of the partiality of the judges, of the slothfulness and tymorousnes of his Counsellor, that pleads his cause at the bar: of the little consideration of the attorney, of the payments of the notary, and of the small courtesies (or rather rudeness) of the officers of the judge.  
So that it may well be said, that to strive in law, and to murmur, are near kinsfolks togeethers. The Egyptians were in time passed plagued only with ten plagues, but these miserable & woeful suitors are daily plagued with a thousand torments. And the difference beetwixt their plague & these, is that the Egyptians came from the divine providence, and these (of our poor suitors) from the invention of man's malice. And it is not without cause we say that it is man's invention, & not divine. For to frame inditements, to geene delays to the party, to allege actions, to deny the demand, to accept the proof, to examine witnesses, to take out process, to note the declaration, to prolong the cause, alleging well, or proving ill, to refuse the judge for suspect, to make intercession to take out the copy of the plea, and to call upon it again with a 1500. dudles: Surely all these are things that neither god commandeth in the old testament, neither Jesus' Christ our saviour doth allow in his holy Gospel. The writings of Egypt, although they were to the great loss and detriment of the signory of the Egyptians, yet were they nevertheless very profitable for the liberty of the Egyptians. But the miserable playntifes are yet in an other greater extremity. for notwithstanding the plagues and miseries the poor wretches suffer daily, yet do they leave their souls buried in the courts of Chancery, and cannot notwithstanding have their goods at liberty. And if the plague of the Egyptians was by rivers of blood, frogs, horse flies, death of cattle, tempests, leprosy, locusts, mists, flies, and by the death of the first borne children: The plague of the plaintiffs is to serve the precedents to bear with the auditors, to entreat the notaries, to make much of their clarks, to please the counsellors, to follow their heels that must open their cause, to pray the ushers, to borrow money, to go from house to house to solicit their attorneys, all these things are easy to tell, but very hard to suffer: For after they are once proved and tried by experience, they are enough to make a wise man contented, rather to lose a piece of his right, then to seek to recover it by any such extremity. For he may be well assured, that he shall never want fair countenance, sugared words, and large promises: but for good doings it is a marvelous wonder if ever they meet togeethers. And therefore before all other things it is necessary he pray to God for his own health and preservation, and next to him, for the preservation and long continuance of the judge, if he will obtain his suit. Therefore I advise him that hath not the judge for his friend, to beware (as from the devil) he do not commence any suit before him. For to dispatch him the better, either he will find the means to make his case very dark, or at least he will prolong his suit as long as it please. It skilleth not much whether the judges be old, or young men, for both with the one and the other the poor plaintiff hath enough to do. If they be old men a man shall travel long ere he will hear his cause. If they be young men, he shall wait long also ere he can inform them of the very points of his case. another great discommodity yet followeth these old judges, that being ever sickly and of weak nature, they never have strength nor time in manner to examine their cases. And as those that have lost now a great piece of their memory, only trusting in forepast expenses, they presume to dispatch their suits as lightly (without further looking into them, or thoroughly examining them) as if they had already advisedly studied them. And peradventure their case is of such importance, that if they had looked upon it very well, they cooled scantly have told what to have said in it. And I would not that when my case should be determined, and judgement geeven upon my matter, that the judge should benefit himself only, with that he had seen or read before. For although experience be a great help for the judge, to give the better judgement upon the matter, yet notwithstanding he is to study a new to understand the merits of the cause.  
It is also a great trouble, and dangerous, for a man to practise with new judges, and to put their matters into their hands, who only were called to the place of a judge, being thought learned and fit for it, and so brought to rule as a magistrate. For many times these young judges, and new physicians although they want not possibly knowledge, yet they may lack a great deal of practise and experience: which is cause that the one sort maketh many lose their lives before they come to rise infame: and the other undo many a man, in making him spend all that ever he hath.  
There is yet besides an other apparent danger, to have to do with these new and young experienced judges, for when they come to sit newly in judgement, with their other brethren the judges, having the law in their mouth to serve all turns, they do but only desire and study to win fame and reputation amongst men, and thereby to be the better reputed of his brethren. And for this cause only when they are assembled together in place of justice to give judgement of the pleas laid before them, they do then only enlarge themselves, in alleging many and divers opinions of great learned men, and book cases: So that the hearers of them may rather think they have studied to show their eloquence and learning, then to open the decision and judgement of the cases they have before them.  
And for final resolution I say, that touching pleas and suits. I am of opinion, they should neither trust the experience of the old judge, nor the learning and knowledge of the young. But rather I reckon that man wise, that seeketh by little and little to grow to an honest end and agreement with his adversary, and that tarrieth not many years to have a long, yea (and possible) an uncertain end. Also I would exhort the poor plaintiff, not to be over curious to understand the qualities of the judge, as a man would say. If he be old, or young, if he be learned or privileged, if he be well studied or but little, if he be a man of few or many words, if he be affected or passioned, tractable or self-willed, for possibly being to inquisitive to demand of any of these things, it might happen though he did it unwarrs, yet he should find them afterwards all heaped togeethers in the parson of the judge, to his hindrance & damage in decyding his cause. The wise suitor should not only not seek to be inquisitive of the judge or his conditions, but also if any man would seem to tell him of him, he should give no ear to him at all. For if it come to the judges ears he inquireth after his manner of living, and condition, he will not only be angry with him in his mind, but willbe also unwilling to give judgement in his favour. The poor suitor shall also meet with terrible judges, severe, intractable, choleric, incommunicable, and inexorable, and yet for all this he may not look upon his nature, nor condition, but only regard his good conscience. For what need he care if the judge be of severe and sharp condition, as long as he may be ascertained he is of good conscience. It is as needful for the upright, and good judge, to have a good and pure conscience: as it is to have a skilful head, and judgement in the laws. For if he have this without the other, he may offend in malice: and if he have that without the other, he may offend also in ignorance. And if the suitor come to speak with the judge, and he by chance find him a sleep, he must tarry till he awake, and if then he will not, or he cannot give ear unto him, he must be contented. And if he caused his man to say he were not within (notwithstanding the suitor saw him) he must dissemble it, yea if the servants give him an ill answer, he must take it in good worth: For the ware and politic suitor must not be offended at any thing that is done or said to him, till he see the definitive sentence geeven with him or against him.  
It is a marvelous trouble also to the suitor to choose his Counsellor. For many times he shall choose one that shall want both law and conscience. And some others shall choose one that though on the one side he lack not law, yet on the other he shallbe without both soul and conscience. And this is apparently seen, that sometime for the gain of twenty nobles he shall as willingly deny the troth, and go against his own conscience, as at an other time he will seek to maintain justice. It is true there are many other counsellors also that are both wise and learned, and yet notwithstanding they know the law, they can by no means frame it to his clients case, wanting devise and conveyance to join them together. And so it happeneth many times, that to compare it to his client's case, he conveyth him so unfitly, as of a plain case it was before, it is now made altogeether a fold of infinite doubts. I grant it is a great furtherance to the client's, to have a good & wise counsellor, but it is a great deal more for their profit, if they can give a sound and profound judgement of his case. For it is not enough for the counsellor to be able to expound the law, but it is beehovefull for him to apply it to his purpose and to apt it to time and place, according to the necessity of his cause. I have known counsellors myself, that in their chairs and readyngs in their halls, have seemed Eagles, they have flown so high in their doctrine and interpretations: but afterwards at the bar where they plead, and in the face of the court, where they should best show them selves, there they have proved themselves very capons. And the only cause of this is, because they have gotten by force of long travel and continual study, a knowledge to know to moot, and read ordinarily their book cases in their chairs, by common practise, and putting of them each to other.  
But when they are taken out of that common trade and high beaten way, and brought to a little path way strayghted to a counsellors room at the bar, to plead his client's strange and unknown case (much contrary to their book cases before recited) then stripped of their common knowledge, and easy seat in chair, they stand now naked on their feet before the judgement seat, like senseless creatures void of reason and experience. But now to supply these imperfections of our raw counsellors, and to further also our clients cause the better: we will that the Client be liberal, and bountiful to his counsellor, (thereby the better to whet his wit and to make him also take pains to study his case thoroughly) being true, that the counsellor giveth law, as he hath reward. And that the counsellor also be careful of his Client's cause, and to go thorough with that he taketh upon him, and truly to deserve that he taketh of every man. For else they will say (and who can blame the poor souls) they are better takers, then good dispatchers: A foul blot to so great a virtue. But well, we will compare them to their brothers the physicians, who deal with their sick patients, as the lawyers with their poor client's. For if you give him not a piece of gold or two in his hand, at each time of his visitation, to restore the languishing body: he careth as little for the preservation of his health, whether he live or die: as the lawyer doth for his claynts case, whether it go with him or against him. More over my pen ceaseth not to write of the great troubles, displeasures, journeys, expenses, and travels, that the poor suitors have with their counsellors daily (as with their attorneys, Solicitors, clarks, officers, registers, and sealer's) for want of matters to write on: but only for that they are so odious matters, and so foul examples, that they deserve rather to be remedied then written. Therefore leaving this law discurse, and returning again to the private affairs of the courtier, abiding still in court, I say: That the courtier must learn to know the noble men and chief officers of the Prince. As the lord chancellor, The lord Treasurer, The lord marshal, The lord Steward, The lord Chamberlain, The lord Privy seal, The Treasurer, The Controller, The master of the horse, The vice Chamberlain, the Secretary, the captain of the guard, and the Cofferer. And he need not force to weigh their stock and family, whether they were rich or poor, humble or proud, stout or fearful, nor regard their qualities and complexions, much less their persons, save only their authority and office they have. And to say truly it cannot be chosen, but we must come before these judges and officers sometimes to beseech and pray them, now for our own private causes, then for the misrule and offence of our servants, and also for the importunancy of our friends in their matters, to labour them for justice and favour. And for this cause me thinks it is a wise part of the courtier to get into favour with the counsel, and other officers of justice, and to obtain their good wills with continual attendance of them, in doing them service at a need, and also to entertain them wythsome small presents to continue their favour.  
first before we beeginne to trouble them, we must be acquainted with them, visit them, and present them with somewhat: For indeed it is a cold and unfit thing to crave favour at a judges hands, whom we never knew, nor did any service to.  
The wise courtier must beware also not to importune the noble men and his friends so much, that for every trifling thing he would have them go to the judges, to solicit and entreat for him, which I speak, because I know there are some such indiscreat persons, that daily do importune the judges so much, and for such trifles, that afterwards with shame they are repulsed, and denied, in matters of great weight and importance. And there are some also that solicit their matter with gravity, and others with importunyty, to whom I wyllbee so bold to say, and tell them of it also, that importunacy showeth the simplicity of the suitor, and gravity, the honesty of the worthy knights & gentleman courtier. It is but well done and meet for the courtier that is a suitor, to be diligent to solicit his cause, and to follow it thoroughly, but yet without troubling or importuning too oft the judges. For if once the judges know him for an importunate and cumbersome suitor, they will not only not speak with him when he comes, but also they will not let him come in at the gate when they see him coming to them. And if he happen to go home to the judges house, and that he tell his tale to him standing, let him not in no wise care to sit down, and that his words he speak to him be few, and his memorial he gives him brief. For observing this order he shall at that time be easily, yea willingly and courteously hard of him, and shall make him think that hereafter also he will use the like order with him. When he seeth that the judge is troubled, and that his head is occupied, let him in no case at that present offer to trouble him, or to speak to him in his matter. For admit he were contented to hear you quietly (though half unwilling) and to suffer you to tell your tale, yet is it impossible he should wholly understand your case, his head being otherwise occupied. And it is needful also to show you, that though the judge seem to be a little melancony, or choleric, yet the suitor need not let for that to speak to him, to open his case, yea and to seek to hold in with him still: For many times we see the melancony and ill disposed natures, appeased and overcome with the courteous and gentle conversation. I remember touching this matter, I went once to the court, to solicit the judge, to pray him to dispatch my friends matter, and that he might have justice. And took my friend with me. And the judge answered us both, that withal his heart he would dispatch him, and swore and swore again to him that he should have justice, & that with right good will he would keep his right all he could. Nay sir said my friend to him whom the case touched, I thank you sir very much that you will dispatch me quickly, but where you say that you have a great desire to keep my right and justice, I utterly appeal from that sentence. For I come not sir, and if it please you, to follow your heels and to wait upon you to solicit my cause, to the end you should keep my right, and deteigne if from me: but that you should give it to me. For I ꝓmis you this sir, if you once give it me, I mean never to trouble your worship hereafter with the keeping of it again, but will discharge you quite. And now after all these things we have spoken, I conclude that who so ever curseth his enemy, & seeketh revenge of an injury done him, let him not desire to see him poor and miserable, neither hated nor ill willed of any other, dead nor banished, but let him only beseech god to plague him with some ill suit. For a man cannot devise to take a greater revenge of his enemy, than to see him entangled in a vile suit to follow the court, or to attend in chancery.   

¶ The auctor changeth his matter, and speaketh to the beloved of the court, admonishing them to be patient in their troubles, & that they be not partial in th'affairs of the common weal. Cap. xi.  
THe courtier shall do well and wisely, (and chiefly if he be noble, & beloved to pass over the injuries done him, and to bear them patiently, & never to give any words to any that shall offend him. For the officers of princes can by no other means so well assuer their offices and authority they have, as by doing good continually to some, and to suffer others, no way making any countenance of displeasure for the injuries done him by others. And if it happen (as many times it doth) that a follower and hanger on of the court, (having spent all that he hath, and driven now to seek a new bank) chance to speak dishonest words, and frame great quarrels against the kings officers: in this case the courtier, and wise office, should never answer him with anger and displeasure, and much less speak to him in choler. For a man of honour, and respect, wyllbee more grieved with a dishonest word that is spoken against him, than he willbe for the denial of that he asketh. Those that are beloved, and beelyked of princes above all other things ought to be very patient, courteous and gentle in all things. For all that the followers of the court, and suitors, can not obtain in the court, let them not lay the fault to the prince that denied it them, but only to the favoured of the prince, and those about him, for that they never moved it to the kings majesty: nor once thought of the matter, as the poor suitors supposed they had. The pains and troubles of court are infinite and insupportable. For how quiet so ever the courtier be, they will trouble and molest him, if he be patient, they willbee impatient and in storms, saying that such a man spoke ill of him, and seeks continually to defame him. Which things we will the courtier hear with paciens, and dissemble with wisdom. For the wise courtier should not be angry for the ill words they speak of him, but only for the vile and wicked acts they do to him. Let not the courtier and beelyked of the prince be deceived, in thinking that doing for this man, and for that man, and in showing them favour: that for all he can bind or stay their tongues that they speak not ill of him, and their hearts that they hate them not extremely. For the enemy receiveth not so much pleasure of that the courtier giveth him, as he doth grief and displeasure, for that that is beehynd yet in the courtier's hands to give him. Now in the palace of princes it is a natural thing, for each man to desire to aspire, and to creep into the prince's favour, to be able to do much, and to be more worth than others, and to command also: and as there are many that desire it, so are they very few in number that by their virtues and demeryts obtain that favour. It is a thing most sure and undoubted, that one alone enjoying his prince's grace and favour, shallbe hated in manner of the most part of the people. The more they be rich, noble, and of great power, that are beloved and accepted of princes, so much the more ought they to be circumspect, and to live in fear and doubt of such disgraces and misfortunes that may happen to them, sith every man's eye is upon them, and that they are envy for that they can do much, and desire also to take from them that authority and credit they have, and to spoil them of such treasure as they possess, or have gotten by the prince's favour. And in this case the beelyked of the court must not trust in the pleasures he hath done them, neither in the favour he hath showed them, much less in the feigned friendship they seem to bear him, and that he thinks he hath gotten of them, neither must he must to much his friends, neighbours, and kynsfolks, no nor his own brethren: But let him be assured, that all those that are not in like favour and estimation that he is, (be he of what degree or parentage he willbee, yea and as near a kin as may be) they will all be in that his very mortal foes. authority to command, being the chief and highest point of honour, and whereto every man seeks to aspire, and which was cause that Pompey became the deadly enemy of julius Cesar his father in law, Absalon of David his natural father, Romulus of his brother Remus, alexander of Darius, who showed himself to fore a father in love in bringing on him up, and Mark Antony of Augustus Cesar his great friend. So that I say, it may well be said, that after dysdaigne and cankered Ire have once possessed the delycat breast of man, only concerning honour and commandment, it is never thenceforth recured of that infested sore, neither by gifts and promises, and much less by prayers and requests. It is true the accepted of the prince may well be free from all thirst and hunger, cold and heat, wars, plague, and poverty, and from all other calamities and troubles of this our wretched life, but he shall never be free from detractions of venomous and wicked tongues, and from spiteful and envious persons. For no less is envy joined to favour, then is thirst to a burning ague. In this case it is impossible but that the courtier should receive many times displeasure and disgraces in the court, but not to give ear to these detractors, and ill speakers of men. To remedy these things, the courtier must needs seem to let them know by his looks and answers, that he is more offended with them, that come & tell him these lewd tales: than with those that indeed did truly report them of him. This council would I give the courtier, that what ill so ever he heareth spoken of him, I would wish him not seem to know it, & much less to be angry with all, nor once to give a dishonest word to the reporters thereof. For his choler over past, the evil words he hath spoken to them in his anger may turn him to more displeasure, than he hath done him hurt that caused him speak these words. And therefore surely to bridle the tongue, is rather a divine then human virtue: and chiefly in that instant, when the heart, is mastered and subdued with cholorick passions. For afterwards it happeneth many times, that being quiet again in our minds, we are sorry for that we have spoken in our anger, yea against them that have angered us. If the courtier should way every word that is spoken against him, and esteem every thing that is done to him, he should purchase himself a continual and sorrowful life, yea and out of measure a troublesome and unpleasant, sith princes courts are ever full of serpent tongues, and venomous hearts, and that it lieth not in man's power to let, that the hearts of men hate us not, and that their tongues speak not ill of us, I would advise the courtier to take all the ill that is spoken of him, in sport and mirth, and not in anger. Seneca said (and that wisely spoken) that there is no greater revenge to punish an injurious word, then to seem to laugh at it. For it is a thing more natural and proper to women, than men to desire to take revenge of words, with the like words again: sith the noble heart that esteem his honour, must not have his hands in his tongue, but his tongue in his hands. O how many have we seen, both out of court and in court, the which for no other respect but to revenge one only silly word, that touched them not much, would put themselves, their goods, and fame in peril: and yet in the end had not that revenge neither they desired, but rather redoubled it 'gainst themselves, in losing their fond and vain attempt. Therefore to conclude those that willbe great in favour and estimation in the princes court, and those also that are now in favour and credit with the prince, and that desire to continue and persever in his favour still, must not make account of any words spoken to him, or offences done him: for all that are in favour have need to suffer, and no occasion to revenge. Till this present day I never saw any that received any hurt or detriment by being patient: but being impatient I have seen numbers cast themselves away, you must also know, that in all places, where troop and company of people be, there is always ever discord and diversities in oppynions and judgements of men. So that it happeneth many times in a common weal, yea and it meeteth sometimes in one house, that all shallbe of one blood and kindred, yet in private wills and affections mortal enemies. And therefore, sure it is a thing worthy to be noted, and no less to be wondered at, to see the father with the sons, the uncles with the nevews, the grandfathers with the children, the son in laws with their father in laws, and brothers with their brothers, and sisters, the one to be as far different from the other as white and black, and as much friends as the dog and the cat. And all this is caused only, for that they are rather wedded to a self will and opinion they have, than they are addicted to love and affect that that nature bindeth them to. We see also many young courtiers, that though they be virtuous and noble (having inherited and succeeded in nobility of blood their ancestors) by means whereof they are honoured and reverenced: and possessing also the greatness, and abundance of their goods, and riches (which makes them wealthy, and mayntayns them honourably) enjoying the noble parentage for which they are regarded, having many friends and servants that do them great service and pleasure. And all in respect of their noble ancestors: and yet notwithstanding all these great things we have spoken, they follow their own inventions and imaginations, which their ancestors knowing would have fled: and hate and mislike that, that they doubtless being alive would have followed. And therefore it is rather a token of lightness then of good will, for one to leave to help and relieve his own friends and kynsfolks, to secure and do good to strangers, or others, whom he never knew, nor can tell what they are. For I assure you, that one of the greatest losses and mishaps that can come to a noble house, is to have new friendship, and partialyty, with strangers and men unknown. That gentleman that giveth himself to follow such one as pleaseth his fantasy best, and that leaveth to lean to those whom his ancestors heretofore both loved and liked: shall see those old friends not only leave and forsake him, but clean give him over to his will, and shortly after shall find his substance and faculty consume and waste away, beesydes, the honour of his house to be brought to utter decay and oblivion. And this we have spoken, only to advise the princes officers, and such as have credit and authority, that they do not with favour support and aid any partial sect, namely that that concerneth the state and body of common weal. For the esteemed of the prince, more easily, and with less occasion do undo themselves, and lose the credit they have won: by reason of their partialities, and factions they maintain, than they do for the daily benefits and suyts they importune the prince in. Wherefore the servants and officers of the kings house, although they be in good favour with the prince, and that it please him to like well of them, yet they may not so hardyly support any to do hurt to others, and so absolutely, as if they were the lords and princes themselves. For albeeyt it pleaseth the king to call them to honour, and to enrich them with goods and possessions, yet the king can not, nor will not like that they shallbe suborners of factions, and quarrels, amongst their subjects in the common wealth. And yet nevertheless it happeneth many times, that those that see themselves only in favour above others, will presume to do violence and wrong to others, trusting to their great credit and favour they are in, that that shall suffice to cloak and hide any fault they shall commit, which they never ought to think nor yet for any respect in the world to do. For such unhaply might be the crime they commit, that although it be in the princes power to do great things for them, yet he could not at that time with his honour excuse their offence, nor seem to protect them in their lewdness, without great murmur and discontentation of his subjects. I know very well, that in court the minds, affections, and oppynions of courtiers are so divers, and va●iable, that notwithstanding the beloved of the prince endeavour himself all he can possible to please & content every man in court, yet of all impossibylities it is a thing most impossible ever to attain to it, to win all men's good wills. Nevertheless he must so trimly and wisely behave himself in all his doings, that those at least, whom he can not with all his policy & devise make his friends have not yet any just occasion geeven them to be his enemies. I see there is no mean, no reason, no devise or policy of man, favour nor diligence, that can defend the honoured and esteemed of court from detraction and envy. Therefore I will boldly give him this advise with him that in matters of justice and other public affairs he bear himself so upright, that notwithstanding they repine at his authority and credit: yet that they have no cause offered to complain of him. The courtier is forced to complain when his own familiar companions and fellow servants of the prince, in his matters of contention or quarrel step between them, not to part them, but rather to the contrary to contend with them and join in demand of that they strive for: which the lucles' courtier is very apt to know, although he dare not discover it, For many times he supposeth it less evil to suffer the persecution of the enemy, then to fall into the disgrace of the beloved and esteemed about the prince. For the reputed of the prince commonly think they do much for the common weal in bearing and favouring some, and in punishing and persecuting others. For those of great authority, professing honour and reputation, and that fear shame: would rather themselves to be defamed and rejected, then to see their enemies advanced, or preferred to the favour of the prince or of them that be in favour and credit with the prince. And the beeliked or officers of the prince may not think, that the favour they give to one against an other, can be kept secret, and that it cannot come to light: for in so doing they are deceived. For in deed there is no thing so manifest or known in the common weal, than the doings and practices of those that are in favour and authority, yea even to the very words they speak. Those that are aggrieved, and have to complain of some injury done them, or also those that are even the familiars of the favoured, & that do but aspire daily to grow in greater credit with their prince than others, do not see any thing said or done to others, that are in better credit than themselves: (be it in eating, drinking, watching, sleeping, in play, being quiet or busy,) but they suddenly go and report it, and tell it to some other that is in favour, to enter and to increase always into greater favour & trust with them. If there happen any dissension or enmity amongst the people in the common weal, or realm, the esteemed of the court must beware in any case they put in their hand: & if they do at all, that it be but to pacify them, & to make them good friends again, & not to discover them worse than they were before. For if he do otherwise, all these quarrels in the end shall cease, (they being reconciled togethers, and now made parfet friends) and to him they will all show themselves open enemies. And therefore it beehooveth the favoured of princes to be have them seleus so wisely towards them that are at discord & variance togethers, that both the one side and the other should be glad and well pleased, to make him arbitrer between them to decide both their causes: without any suspicion that they have of him (be it never so little) of parciality of either part. The same day that the favoured of the court shall take upon him to bear any private affection to any of the common weal, and that he rather lean to one party or to an other: the self same day and hour he shall put in great hazard his person, and not without great danger to lose his goods) together with the favour and credit of his prince. And the secret enemies he hath (through the envy they bear him) should suffice him, yea rather to much, by reason of his favour and credit) without seeking any new enemies, for that he saith or doth. Such as are great with the prince, & the fly the passions affections, and partialities, of the common weal may be assured they shallbe beloved, served, and honoured of all: but if they shall do the contrary, they may trust to it likewise, that their enemies will be revenged of them, because they did pursue them: And their friends also will complain of them, because they did not favour their cause as they ought. Therefore let not the beelyked think, if he dare believe me, that by having only the favour of the person of the prince, it is enough for him to govern and rule the whole realm at his pleasure. For although it can not be denied, that to have so great a friend as the person of a king, it is a great advantage & commodity, and that he may do much: yet we must grant also, that many enemies, are able to hurt us, and do us great injury. And therefore my advise should be, that every wise man, having one a friend: should be ware to have an other enemy.   

¶ That the officers and beloved of the court should be very diligent, and careful in the dispatch of the affairs of the prince and common weal, and in correcting and reforming their servants, they should also be very circumspect and advised. Cap. xii.  
surely it is a great servitude and trouble to live in court continually, but it is a far greater when it is enforced of necessity (by reason of suits and troubles) and yet greatest and most intolerable, when they can not obtain a short and brief dispatch according to their desire. For weighing well the manner and conditions of the court, that suitor may reckon himself happily dispatched, every time that he is quickly dispatched, although his dispatch be not according to his mind. And I speak it not without a cause, that he may reckon himself well dispatched when he hath his answer. For without comparison it is less ill of both, for the poor suitor that attends on the court, to be presently denied his suit, then to continue him long with delays as they do now a days, the more is the pity. If the poor suitors (tgat go to the court) did know certainly that the delay made in their suyts were for no other occasion, but for to dispatch them well, according to their desire: although it were not so reasonable, yet were it tolerable the pains and trouble that they abide. But if the poor miserable and wretched creatures have great trouble in traversing the law, and abiding their orders: obtaining it nevertheless in the end with great labour and toil, yea and contrary to their expectation: have they not yet matter enough trow ye to complain of? yes sure, enough to make them despair. What so ever he be therefore that goeth to the court to be a suitor for any matter of import, let him determine and think with himself he shall not obtain his suit even as he would have it. For if he shall feed himself with certain promises, made in private (a thing common to courtiers, to promise much, and perform nothing) & with other vain and foolish thoughts: the great hope he shall conceive of their smokes of court, must needs give him afterwards occasion to despair when he seeth the promis unperformed. The court is a sea so deep, a pilgrimage so incertain, that there we daily see nought else, but lambs swim with safety in the deepest channel, & elephants drown in the shalowest ford. To go sue, to serve, to travail, & to solicit in the court of princes, may aptly be likened & compared to those that put in many rich jewels to the lottery in open market: in which it happeneth very oft, that he that hath put in a .100. lots shall not happen perhaps of one, and an other that only hath put in one, fortune shall so favour him, that he shall ever after be made a rich man. The like we may say to him that hath lived so long in court, that he hath not only got him a beard, but it is also now become a grey beard: and yet in all this long time of his service he hath not gotten him any certainty, or stay of living to live honesty withal, to maintain his aged years in quiet: and he may well say, that all the lots have been unfortunate to him which he put in adventure. It is true, that to be called a good & virtuous man, it sufficeth to have a sharp wit and good head: but to become rich, he must only have good fortune. And this is plainly seen in the court, that some in four months will grow great like a Melone, and some other in forty years will never bear but little fruit, like a palm tree. We have told you all these things to this end, only to remember those that go to the court of princes to follow any suit, or to continue a courtier still, that in any case they carry a purse with them full of money, & a heart armed with paciens. O what pity is it every way to see him that is a suitor in the court, to be long haled with a tedious suit, and in the end not to obtain any part of his desire, without a little pleasing wind of court. For if he will have his suit go forward, and take good success, & have it speedily granted, he must first buy it of god with bitter tears, & afterwards of the king with humble intercession, of the secretaryes with promises, and of the ushers with presents, & of the beloved & in authority with infinite service: So that to conclude, far greater is the reward they crave, than the value, of the favour or benefit they beestow. If I have discoursed to you sufficiently what the unlucky suitors have done and do: you shall further know what they think & do imagine, as it falleth out true. The silly souls they pass the nights in watch, devising continually, not in what church the next day they may hear divine service, but only what means they may procure to come to the speech of the favoured of the court, to speak one word unto them. The poor suitor (unskilful of courtly practice) believeth, that when he hath once exhibited a bill or memorial of his suit to the master of requests, or that he hath spoken a word or two to any one in favour with the prince, that strait without further delay he shallbe dispatched of his suit, and that he shall not need to sue any more. But alas they are deceived, and prevented of their expectation. For the unhappy suitor shallbe no sooner out of his sight, but they presently forget all that hath been said to them, yea and peradventure his mind so occupied, that his bill of memorial is also torn in pieces, and his suit and bill committed to flying air. Thaffairs of the wars are done by force and necessity, and those of friends by good will, but those of the miserable suyters of the court, by money or  importunity. So that it followeth that hardly any man obtaineth the end of his suit (be his right never so good) without  diligence and painful toil. And many times the poor suitor of the court departeth from his own house, and goeth to the court, on hope and deliberation to be dispatched in two months: and afterwards the poor miserable man shall spend above six months there without dispatch. But all this is nothing to the grief and displeasure he shall felt in the end, if with better judgement he measure and consider, the pleasure and felicity he might have had at home, with the troubles and displeasures he abideth in the court. For making account with his purse, he shall perhaps find all his money spent, ere his suit in manner be begun. I told you but of a little wonder, to tell you that all his ill consisted in the empting of the purse. For in deed I should have said better, and more truly, telling you that he had sold his nag, laid his sword in gage, baratted his cote & cloak, and of two shirts he brought, the one he sold: so that the silly man hath no more left to chop, nor sell. And yet more over me thinks I tell you little, If I show you not also, that after he hath consumed all his money he brought in his purse, sold, chopped, & laid to gauge all the apparel that he had, he is notwithstanding all this enforced for debt to gauge to his host all that that remains behind, to satisfy him for his lodging. So that when he cometh home to his house, he may say truly, that he cometh home weary, ashamed, consumed, and all that he hath at gage. He that determineth to be a suitor at the court, is wont before he go from home, to make account what he will spend every day ordinarily: but what he shall spend extraordinaryly, against his will, that he never reckons of. And therefore I would counsel him for the best, if he put ten crowns in his purse for ordinary charges, let him also put ten more for extraordinary. For it is impossible he should ever keep an order & measure, in so great a disorder. For many times courtiers are compelled for their honour & reputations sake, to invite their hosts & owners of the lodging where they lie: & besides the great charges they are at that way, yet come there unbydden to dinner and supper a company of jesters, players of interludes, mynstrells, & musicans, or other pleasant companions whom he can not refuse & turn away for honesties sake, but must needs make them eat & drink besides the reward they look for. So that when he hath made his account of ten or xx. shillings charges for his dinner or supper, let him look in his purse, & he shall find these mates have picked up in rewards as much, as the hole charges of his dinner or supper beside. More over they are daily visited of their friends & kinsfolks, & vitells are so dear & of so excessive price, that to make their provision at the best hand, they must send out posts & lackeys into all parts to be their purveyors. And yet are they further recharged that many times their servants rob them of all their money & run their way when they have done, & sometimes they must new array themselves, all with things the courtier (in respect of his estimation) is bound to do thoroughly, & with the best manner, or else to sequester & banish himself from court & courtier's life. It is true that a poor gentleman or other suitor (that of necessity must follow the court) knoweth very well the cause that moveth him to be a courtier, & attend on the court, but yet he shall not know what his charge & expense willbe about the suit. If he have any favour or credit in the court, he may happily obtain a quick and ready dispatch, & so perhaps save some part of his money in his purse he determined to spend: without which he shall not only be enforced to borrow, but to send a new messenger to his house for more money. O (the more is the pity) how many have I seen in princes courts spend till that ever they brought to the court to follow their suit, & yet could not be dispatched in any thing he came for, save that in steed of their money they consumed, they have purchased them great troubles & displeasures, bewailing their lost time, & vain expense. And it is to be considered also, that if it be a great dyfyculty to speak to the prince in our matter, to the president of the counsel, to the master of the requests, & to the privy counsel, to the marshal's of the house, to the treasurers, to the cofferers, to the fouriers & to the favoured of the court, it is far greater & more trouble to entertain, & content their servants & officers. For I dare assure you, you shall sooner & more easily win the love of the master, than you shall obtain the favour & good will of the setuant. Princes are contented if we obey them: the favoured of the court if we serve them: but the servants are never contented, nor in quiet, if they see we do not worship them & entreat them. And surely I will tell you a true tale, & will not lie a word to you. In those days when I myself was also a courtier in the court of princes, it stood me upon many times rather to trouble the masters, then to pray the servants. If perhaps (for penance of his sins) the suitor show himself importunate in his affairs, & that he presume to dare say to him some nipping or unpleasant word, let him be well assured he will not be revenged on him, to hurt him with sword or lance: but only in holding back his pen, to delay him in his dispatch. For I remember, that once being but a poor priest, I was entreated by the proctor of a province to say him a dozen of masses for a great noble man (& in great favour in the court) that had his matter in his hands, & he conjured me very earnestly that I should not say them for the health & salvation of his soul, but only that god would inspire him & put into his mind to dispatch him quickly of his business. Therefore as we have spoken of the one, it is reason we should also speak of the other. And therefore I say that there are some of these officers & clerks of judges, Magistrates, counsellors, secretaries, treasurers, marshals, fouriers, and other officers also of the court that are so wise, & men of such honesty, & civility, that the dyscurtesyes & wrongs sometimes their lord & masters do to us, they do the best they can either to take them from us quite, or at the least to lessen or dymynish them. For the contrary also, others there are so proud, & shameless, such tattler, & vile persons, & so unconscionable with all: of whom as it is a great pleasure for us to see that they writ, and to hear that they can speak so well, & promise so liberally, only to win your money, & pick your purse: so it is a great spite to us, and more shame, reproach, and infamy for them, when afterwards we see the contrary effects of their fair words, and feigned promises, where with they feed us continually. And adding thereto also we see many times that such a young courtier, in less than four years that he hath remained in service with a noble man, or other officer of the kings in the court, hath gotten by his practice & policy a fair moil of great price, with her harness all gilt, his coffers well sylled, his tent for the field with field bed & other furniture to it, his carpets on his table, his clothes of tapestry over his doors his gowns richly furred for the winter, and those of satin & damask and taffeta for the summer: and yet notwithstanding all this glory, he may possible keep a courtesan for his pleasure & maintain her. All which things considered & put together, it is impossible he should do it by the gains of his pen or service, but only by dishonest means, & robbing of his master. I saw once in my presence a poor suitor, offer the clerk of a Secretary eight Rials of silver for to dispatch him of his suit, and he refused them flatly, and would none of them by no means, notwithstanding the poor man turned him up the bottom of his purse, and showed him that he had but only four rials left to bring him home withal. So the poor man came to me, & entreated me to speak to this clerk for him, to persuade him to take his money he offered him, and to dispatch him, since he had no more left than he showed him.  
And I did so. And this worshipful clerk made me this unhonest answer. Sir, behold my face and complexion, and you shall find that it is all of gold, and not of silver. For I swear to you by our blessed lady of Lancet, that it is more than two years that I received for reward of my pains no other but gold, and not silver laid in my hands. It can not be but that servant the vaunts himself to have a face of gold, will one day put his masters face in the mire. Now albeit we see the king's officers and others peradventure under them to ride on their nags with their foot clothes, to be brave in apparel, to be rich in jewels, and happily to have a hundredth crowns in his purse, we should not marvel of it at all: but if we have cause to think any thing ill in them, it is for that many times they play away more money fond, than would serve any other man to spend in all his necessaries. That officer or clerk that hath not above a hundredth crowns in his purse, and that in a night playeth away two hundredth crowns, what judgement shall a man give of him? but that either he deceiveth others in his office, or he stealeth & pilfreth from his master or lord, or else he exacteth upon the poor suitors, and racks them withal extreamyty, without conscience and honesty, and that he will have it on them even with plain brawling? Yea and though these good fellows be liberal in play (as you have hard) yet I warrant you they are not spare of diet neither, but if they call their friends at a time to their table in the hall, or else bid their courtesans to some garden, you may be assured they want no dainty meats, nor delycat wines to please their liking lust: yea peradventure with more copy, & better meat and drink then their masters or lords have any. Hear could I mate them with like companions to themselves, the merchants apprentices, which for their lavish expense, their excessive play, their lusty banqueting and feasting, otherwhile their secret friends in gardens & blind taverns, come not behind them at all in delicacy of fare, and in suptuous expense, but rather go before, & leave them far behind. And how think you, can these foul riots & disorders be born by any likelihood of the apprentices own abylity? nay sure of the masters cost (as best able) whose purse payeth for that good cheer, though he good man far at home but thynly. But well, sense it toucheth not our matter, I will return again where I left. All these things notwithstanding, they are dishonest, are sometimes tolerable & to be born, so that with these faults they would be diligent to dispatch men, & easily to talk withal. But alas for pity, we see that for all these complaints they hear, & for all the requests & entreaty that may be made to them, they will never take pen in hand before the poor suitor take his hand out of his purse, that they may feel him a little. We have spoken all these things, to admonish, remember, & to beseech the favoured of the prince, and other their officers, that neither them selves nor their servants under them, be long and slow in dispatching such things as they have in charge, and chiefly of poor and miserable suitors. For if we consider the qualities and conditions of men, we see that to many suitors it were less detriment and more profit, to be answered quickly (though they were denied) then dispatched slowly (and to have it granted) to their great charge and long trouble. Truly me thinks it is a great secret of god to know, why all those that are suyters in the court of princes, & those also whom we sue to are all mortal: And all the suyts that we labour for, seem (yea to say more truly) are immortal. And hereof we see a daily experience, that the suyters die, and their suyts live for ever, being never determined. O excellent art, and fine devise of suit that courtiers are wont to use, that are grateful to princes, as for familiar example. They find a way to put in a thousand manner of lets to hinder and delay the suyts, because that when by tract of time they have more then half despaired the hopeless suyters, they then, to revive them again, and to make their honour seem the greater, dispatch them even in a moment without let or delay, and to the suitors whole contentation. It is good reason the prince have a regard of the things he gives, and to whom he grants them, and like wise of the time and place. For in receiving favour or a good turn at the princes hand, they sometimes make more account and estimate of the lyberalyty, and bountiful mind of the prince, than they do of the gifts themselves. Sure it is a good thing, and laudable, for those that are continually about the person of the prince, that they be easy to be spoken withal, patient to hear, wise in answering, of good fame in their life, and ready to dispatch and do good. For being otherwise, they may be assured they shall show the mark and white for their enemies to shoot their piercing shaft at, and shall give the suyters also cause to complain and speak ill of them. And therefore to cut them short, I counsel them, that in those things they are besought, that they be not too hard to be entreated: and in that they are requested, that they be never too strange, nor drawing back, much less covetous, and in those things that are geeven them, they be never unthankful: and with those that they are conversant, that they be very well advised and considered: & those things whereof they are advertised, that they endeavour themselves to keep it in mind and memory, and never to forget it. And if they shall do otherwise, let them assure themselves, and trust unto it, that if they in time of suit shall shut the doors against the poor suyters, that the common people also will never open their hearts once to serve or love them. Prince's servants should so govern themselves, that though there were found some ill persons that despised them, for that they might do much, and were of great authority: yet that there might be many others also honest, that should praise and commend them for the great good they do. That man that is envy, dispraised, defamed, disloved, and ill thought of of all, should think it lesser ill to die honestly, then to live with shame and in disgrace of every man. For to say truly, me thynks no man could live a more bitter and hard life, although he abode many sorrows, them to see him disliked generally of the whole common weal. It is an honest and natural thing for men to endeavour them selves by all dyllygence and industry to get much, but it should be far better, and much more worth, to procure themselves good wil For in effect nothing doth more satisfy and glad the heart, and maketh it more quiet, then to think that he is beloved, and well accepted of all. It is a most certain rule, that the foes and enemies of the favoured courtiers never join in friendship with others, but with those whom they know to be full of passions and quarrels like themselves. Of which detractors if any one happen at times to go to the house of the honoured of the court, upon any occasion of suit, and that they cannot presently speak with him: they will not say I warrant you that he was busy, and cooled not speak with him, but that he was so proud and so haughty that he would not once hear nor see them. We are so willing and forward in wishing well, and so self-willed and obstinate in hating, that upon a very light occasion many times we love those we love, and with a much less occasion we defame and speak ill of those we hate. Therefore the favoured of princes shall do great service to God, and much profit to the common weal, if they give order to dispatch all suitors (high or low) speedily: Since it is to the king only that they impute the denial of their suits, but for the delay and prolongation of them, they only lay it to the charge of the favoured and beloved of princes. And those that are great with the Prince, may not excuse themselves by reason of the numbers of matters they have in their hands. For if he be alone, and that it lie in his hands only to dispatch all, and that he is not able to satisfy them all, it cannot be but that some one of his friends will advertise the king that he cannot do all, and how the people complain, and the poor suitors find themselves aggrieved, which purchase him great enemies and ill willers, by reason the common wealth is so altered. So that he shall not tarry long, but the Prince understanding of these complaints, will join a companion with him to ease him of some part of his pain. And therefore the good Princes should admonish, and warn the officers well (whom they take to help to dispatch matters) that they be wise and learned men, and of good life, and that they be not too partial in their doings, nor too sharp & rough in their answers. For many times there happen more troubles and sinister chances to Princes and noble men, for the uncourteous language of their officers and deputies, then for any ill that they themselves do commit. And therefore those that are in favour and authority with the prince, must of necessity foresee to choose under them such persons, to whom they give the care and charge of their affairs and business, to dispatch men's matters and suyts, that they be liberal of condition, pleasant in their conversation, courteous in answers, true in their writings, easy and diligent in their dispatches, very honest and modest in that they give or take, and sincere and perfitt in all their other virtues if it be possible: So that they may ever be more careful to get friends for their masters, than money. For like as the life of the master of the ship consisteth, and dependeth in the only guide and judgement of the Pilot, and the consciens of the judge in his constitute, the goods of the merchant in his factor, and the victory of the prince in his Captain: Even so likewise doth the honour of the favoured consist in those he hath chosen officers under him for the dispatch of men's affairs. And although the servant of the beelyked be no partaker with his master of his favour with the prince, yet is he a coadjutor to him to support his credit and favour; and many times also a ready mean utterly to undo his master and to dishonour him for ever. The like watch and care the good bishop hath over his flock, to preach unto them the Gospel of Jesus' Christ: the self same aught the magistrates and higher powers have to their officers that are under them, in taking heed that they be not slow and negligent in dispatching such business as they have in charge, that they be not dishonest of life, presumptuous in demanding, and false in their writing. For the least of these faults sufficeth utterly to undo the servant, and also to defame the master. And therefore so soon as the beloved of the court have any suspicion in the world, or ynkling (be it never so little) that his servant is grown to be proud, dishonest, and of a naughty consciens; he ought not only immediately to correct him for it: but to put him out of his service forthwith, and to turn his coat over his ears. Otherwise they will murmur so much at the servant that doth all these faults, as at the master that will not see them, and suffereth them. Therefore the reputed of court must first see, and peruse over the writings and doings of their servants and secretaries, before they dispatch them out of their hands, and to moderate their gain with reason that is due to them. Otherwise their enemies might justly say, that they keep not such under them to dispatch poor men that sue to their masters, but rather to spoil & rob them. And therefore they were better augment their wages they give those officers and servants, then to consent or dissemble with their theft. For so doing, the servant can never rise in wealth, but the master must needs diminish in honour. It may happen many times that the esteemed of the court shallbe so occupied in th'affairs of the comonweal, that he cannot (though he would) give audience to the suitors. But when they are thus occupied that they cannot in deed, they must then command their servants and officers, that they courteously entreat them, and hear them, and not check or rebuke them, and call them importunate suitors. For it is no reason, that for dispatch of their business, the poor souls should be laden with injurious words.   

¶ That the derelings of the court beware they be not proud, and high minded, For lightly they never fall but through this wicked vice. Chap. xiii.  
WE read that Hieroboham succeeded his father in xii. realms that were his, although they were but small realms. Who being requested and exhorted by the grave aged men of his realm, to be courteous and temperate, and not greedy, nor avaricious in recovering the tribuis & subsidies the other realms gave him, & merciful & pitiful in punishing the offences committed, answered them thus. My father beat you only with simple whips, but I will not scourge you with whips, but plague you with scorpions: for my little finger is greater than was his whole arm. Which happened very ill to him, that for to chastise the proud & arrogant words he spoke to them, & to punish him for his wicked doings & enormities conitted, they afterwards revolted against him, & took from him xi of his realms, & all his frendz forsook him: so that as he augmented in greatness of his fingers, he diminished as much in his realms and riches. So great was the pride likewise of king Pharaoh, that not contented that god had pardoned him his sins, and with the ten plagues that he had sent him, did yet notwithstanding resist and pursue the people of Israel. Wherefore the sea, (that was made a plain passage and high way, for the safeguard of the children of Israel his enemies) was prepared a sepulture for him and his. Pompey the great also being in Asia, when it was told him that he should levy his power, and prepare his men to be in readiness to resist the battle the julius Cesar came to give him: with a great fury he stamped his foot upon the ground, and proudly spoke these words. Next to the gods I fear no man, no not all mortal men, although they all were bend against me, my power being so great, that I am able to destroy julius Cesar, and all his power coming against me. And not only the realms of Asia shall fight for me, but also I will command the ground that I tread on to rise against him. But what was the fattal end of Pompey's pride? His captains lost the battle, his children their Realms and signories, and he in fine his head, Rome her liberty, and his friends their lives. Themperor Domitian also was so vicious in his doings, and so proud in his thoughts, that he openly commanded the governors and magistrates of his realm in all their edicts and proclamations to say these words. Domitian our god, & our prince commandeth that this thing be done. But lo the final end of his pride, in taking upon him the name of a god, by consent and counsel of his wicked wife Domitia, he had seven deadly wounds geeven him in his bed with a dagger. And thus woefully he ended his glorious life. Plutarch recounteth also that king Demetrius was the proudest prince that ever reigned. For he was not contented to see himself served of all men like a great & mighty prince as he was, but he made them also honour him as a god. And he would not suffer any strange imbassatours to come into his presence, but they should be apparelled like priests. Aman was also very familiar with the king Assuerus, and although all those of his realm did him great service, and that strangers had him in great veneration and did honour him marvelously, yet was there a glorious Mardocheus, that would never do him reverence, nor once put of his cap to him: by reason whereof this Aman that was in so great favour, commanded a gibbet of thirty yards high to be set up for Mardocheus, whom he would have hanged on that gibbet, to be revenged on him for the injury he had done him. But the divine will of God was such, & Fortune did permit it, that on the same galloes Aman thought to have put Mardocheus to death, on the self same himself was hanged.  
Themistocles and Aristides were two famous men among the Greeks, and because they were both great Princes and Philosophers, and had in great reputation of all those that knew them, there was such a secret emulation and ambition between them, the one to reign over the other, that both aspiring each to command other, there followed great disorders and oppressions of the subjects of their commonweal. Wherefore Themistocles moved with pity and compassion of so great a tyrant, which for their sakes their commonweal endured, one day in the market place before all his people with a loud voice spoke these words,  
Know you, O you people of Athens, that if you do not lay hands on my exceeding presumption, and on the overgreat ambition of Aristides, that our gods willbe offended, the temples will fall down to the hard foundation, our treasures willbe consumed, ourselves destroyed, and our common weals brought to utter ruin and decay. Therefore once again good people I say, bridle, bridle these our inordinate and unspeakable affections beetymes, lest the reins laid on our necks we run to far. O golden words of a prince, and worthy eternal fame. Lucanus also when he would reprove the presumption and pride of the roman princes, said, that Pompey the great cooled never abide to have any for his companion or equal with him within Rome: And julius Cesar also would never suffer that there should be any greater in the world than himself. And therefore to discourse a little of this abominable and horrible vice of pride, we have not without great reason laid before you these approved examples, before we begin to reprove it. For in all things th'examples we show you are wont to move us more, than the reasons we seem to tell you of. For that that I have seen, for that I have read, and for that that I have hard say also of others, I am most assured and resolved thereof, that by the only cause of this wicked sin of pride, proceedeth the ruin and utter decay of all our greatest things and affairs of our life, for by all other sins a man may in deed descend and decline from his degree and state of honour and estimation, but by this only sin, he cannot choose, but he must fall down flat to the ground. They find out the midst and centre of the earth, the depth of the sea, and the highest tops of Riphei mountains, the end of the great mount Caucasus, and the beginning of the great fludd Nile: and only the little heart of man, touching desire to rule & command, can never find end. Thinsatiable covetousness is such, that it cannot be contented with the things we have, but only with those we repute of less price. Likewise ambition and pride to command cannot be contained within bounds, but only by obeying. For never no vice can have end, if he that hath it doth not leave it, and banish it from him. After Alexander the great had conquered all Asia, and had subdued the great India, he was one day reproved of the great Philosopher Anacharses, who told him these words. Sith thou art now, O Alexander, lord of all the earth, why dost thou weary thyself so much in thy affairs, as no pain seemeth troublesome to thee? To whom Alexander answered. Thou hast told me many times Anacharses, that besides this world there are also three others. And if it be so (as thou sayest) how great a reproach and infamy were it to me, that being three other worlds, I should be lord but only of one. Therefore I do daily sacrifice to the gods, that though they take me out of the life of this world, yet at least that they will not deny me of so glorious a conquest. I confess that the Scriptures excepted, I have no words so rife in memory as these, whereby may easily be perceived, that to quiet and content a proud heart, the signory of the whole world is not yet sufficient, and how ended the pride of this glorious prince? even thus. He that hoped to conquer & be lord of the three other worlds, did not rule this one only above iii years. We may boldly say this, & swear it, & may also plainly prove it to any that desire to see it, that he wanteth both wit & knowledge, that taketh upon him to be proud, and presumptuous. For the more he looketh into himself, and considereth and reconsidereth his state and calling, & what he is, he shall find in him a thousand occasions fit to humble him, but never a one only to make him proud and haughty. How great, rich, mighty, noble, and worthy so ever the parson be, every time that we happen to see him, and that we have no acquaintance of him. And that we desire to know what he is, we do not ask of what element, of what sea, of what fire, of what planet, of what climate, of what sun, of what moon, nor of what air, but only of what country he is of, and where he was borne. For we are all of the earth, we live in the earth, and in th'end we have to turn into the earth, as to our natural thing. If the planets and the beasts cooled help us with the instrument and benefit of the tongue, they would take from us the occasions of vain glory. For the stars would say, that they were created in the firmament, the Sun in the heavens, the birds in the air, the Salamaunder in the fire, and the fish in the water: but only the unhappy man was made of earth, and created in the earth. So that in that respect, we cannot glory to have other kinsfolk nearer to us, then are the worms, the flies, and horseflyes. If a man did consider well what he were, he would assertain us that the fire burns him, water drowns him, the earth wearies him, the air troubles him, the heat grieves him, the cold hurts him, and the day is troublesome to him, the night sorrowful, hunger and thirst makes him suffer, meat and drink fills him, his enemies daily follow him, and his friends forget him. So that the time a man hath to live in this wretched world, cannot be counted a life, but rather a long death. The first day we see one borne, the self same we may make reckoning that he begins to die: and although that parson lived amongst us a hundredth years after in this world, we should not say therefore that he lived along time, but only that he tarried a great time to die. Therefore that parson that hath his life tied to so many tributes, I can not devise or think with myself why, or wherefore he should be proud. But now returning again to our purpose, let us say, and exhort the servants and familiars of princes, that they take heed they be not proud and presumptuous. For it seeldom happeneth, that the favoured of kings and princes fall out of favour and credit for that they have, or can do much, nor for that they crave and desire much: but for that they are to bold, and presume to much. For in the court of kings & Princes there is nothing more hurtful and less profitable, than pride and presumption. For oft times the overweening of the courtier, and the foolish vain pride and reputation he hath of himself, brings him to be in the prince's disgrace, and makes the people also to be offended and angry with him. For till this day we never saw, nor hard tell of any that ever got into the prince's favour and credit, for that he was proud and high minded: but only for that he hath showed himself an humble, obedient, courteous, loving, and a faithful servant. I would be of this mind, that the courtier that seeth he is received into favour in the prince's court, should ever wax better in serving well, then grow worse in presuming to much. And I dare boldly say and affirm, that it is a mere point of folly, by his pride and rashness to lose all that good in one day, that by great good fortune he hath attained to in many years. And though that the favoured courtier (subject possible to his fantastical humour) be sometimes overcome with choler, carnal desire, drawn with avarice, and addicted to the gorge, envenomed with envy, plunged insloth and idleness, or some other vice and imperfection, it shall not skill much, neither be any great wonder, since all mankind is subject to those passions: and neither the prince, nor the common weal, will reckon much of that. For of all these faults and vices there can come no greater hurt to him, save only that that the common people would murmur against him. But his pride and peacock's glory once known and espied, every man casteth his eyes upon him to behold his princely gate, and curseth him in word and deed. Therefore let a man be in as great favour as he can devise to be, as worthy, noble, rich, and of as great power and authority as he desireth to be: I never saw any ill in all my life, if with all these virtues he were proud and high minded, but in th'end he was persecuted of many, and hated and envy of all. For those that are in greatest favour about the prince, have secret enemies enough to hinder their credit, although they do not purchase them new, to accuse them of their pride and presumption. And as we are taught by experience, the burning coal cannot long be kept alive, without it be covered with the hot ymbers. Even so I mean, that the favour of the prince cannot be long maintained, without good bringing up, and civil manners, gentle conversation, and familiarity. The great men of authority about the prince run eftsoons into great and many dangers: and this happeneth, because they would not be reproved in any thing what so ever they do, much less here any word that should displease them, neither can they abide to be told of their faults, much less suffer to be corrected for them. Nether do they suffer willingly to be counseled in any thing, be it never of so great weight and importance, neither would they have any compaygnion with them in favour and credit with the Prince, but they desire to be both on the right hand of the prince, and of the left: still they only would be the favoured of the prince, and none other: aspiring to govern them in all their doings, and to be thought and reputed the sole and only rulers of the affairs of the prince, and his common weal, and to be believed in all things of the prince, and to be obeyed also of the common people. Those therefore that are continually resient in the court of princes, and that have the chiefest rooms and offices of authority in the court, let them well consider, and keep in memory this one word that I will tell them. And that is this. That the first day that they take upon them to be superintendents and governors of the common weal, even in the self same day they shall come to put in hazard their honour, favour, and credit, how great so ever it be. For with great difficulty are the least things the prince himself commandeth, executed or done in his realm or common weal: and therefore may the favoured of the court see, how much more hard it is for him to rule, (as sole & absolute lord) the affairs of the realm, and to be obeyed in the common weal: since the king himself cannot do it by his regal authority. And therefore the less he shall desire to meddle with th'affairs of the people, the more shall he live in quiet and contented. For naturally the common people are so unstable and uncertain in their doings, unthankful of benefits received, and so ingrateful of a good turn done them: that the beloved of the court or any other person in favour with the prince can ever do any thing for the people, (be it never so well) but they will speak ill, and mislike of him, and find fault with some of his doings. It is impossible that those that will command many things in the court of princes should always do their things so, but they should sometime tread awry. And admit their faults be but light, and of small moment, yet they may be assured there willbe enough that will both open them to the common weal, and tell them also secretly to the prince alone. For those that seek to divorce the favoured of the court from the prince, do not complain or find fault for that they are more in favour with the prince than others, but they will show they take it in ill part, they have more authority, and command more than others in the comonweal. Saying that by mean of their place & authority, & under colour of good zeal to minister justice, they give commonly foul & injurious words, far unfit for the authority of the person, & worthiness of the place. So that it cannot be otherwise chosen, but that continuing this disorder, they must needs make the king suspect them, & besides that bring a great discord betwixt the king & those that he favoureth, & make him marvelously offended with them. For in th'end, princes would always be served, & obeyed, but not ruled, & commanded. And it is a most true saying. Over much familiarity breedeth contempt, which although it may be borne between men of like degree & equality, yet is it not tolerable between the prince & the beliked of the prince. But rather every day, hour, & moment that the favoured courtier entereth into the prince's palace, or into his privy chamber, he ought ever to do it with as great courtesy, reverence, humility, & honour, & in speaking to the king, as if he had never spoken with him, nor seen him. So that he should let all men see, that though it please the king's majesty to make of him, and to accept him into his favour, yet that he leave not to serve him, & do him that duty that all other servants do, & are bound to do. The surest and most certain way to maintain those that are sublimed, & exalted in the court of princes, & to raise & bring those to authority that are low & of base condition, is: that the esteemed repute himself ever a servant, & that the servant never vaunt nor boast himself to be favoured or esteemed. The familiars of princes ought ever to be ware that there come no complaints of them to the prince's ears. For as a drop of water, by time & continual fall cometh to pierce the hardest stone: so it might happen that the numbers of complaints, might be occasion for the prince to withdraw his favour & love from the courtier again. If his only services were sufficient to induce the prince to favour & love him: so the number of his subjects complaints against him, were occasion enough to make him mislike him, & put him out of favour clean, changing his love & favour, to hate & discredit it. For it a certain thing, that when the prince doth look well into his own doings, he had rather be beloved of all, then served of one alone. The honoured of the court may not regard so much the honour & credit he is called to by his prince, as the baseness & poverty he was in, when it pleased the king to like of him, & that he came first acquainted with the king. For if he did otherwise, it might happen, that like as fortune had brought him to that high estate he had: So pride might overthrow him again, & bring him as low as he was before. For I should have said more truly a great deal, saying that it would have made him fall down right, being the right property of fortune, to suffer the base sort (whom she had called to honour) only to return them to their mean estate & call, they were of at the first, & never to leave the favoured of the prince, & men of authority (nor never satisfied) till she have thrown them down headlong into extreme misery, never to rise again. Agathocles (first the son of a Potter, & afterwards made king of Sicilia) whilst he lived, he ever used this manner, that in his treasury or jewel house, yea and also at his table, amongst all his cups and dishes of gold & silver, he had some also of earth amongst them: and being asked the occasion, why in so great a treasure, and mass of gold & silver he had so vile a thing as earth, answered thus. I drink in golden cups and eat in earthen dishes, to give thanks to the gods, which of a potter's son that I was, brought me to this royal state of a mighty king. And I do it also to have evermore cause to be humble, & to fly pride. For it is an easier thing, and more lyker for a king to become a potter, then for a potter to attain to the greatness and state of a king. These words of Agathocles were ever worthy to be noted & had in memory, since we see plainly, that to give a man a fall, a little stone sufficeth to make us stumble and fall to the ground: but to raise us up again, we must needs help us with power of hands and feet. It may well be, that this brave courtier & favoured of the court before he came to this degree of honour, was but of a mean house, and basely borne, and besides that esteemed of few, for his nobility of blood: of an unknown country, of poor parentage, of small substance, and no better nor otherwise favoured of fortune in his birth or lineage. of all which things he hath no cause to be ashamed, but rather to glory, and praise god. For he shall ever be more esteemed in the court, & well thought of, to remember from whence he came, and to regard his first estate: then he shall, if he wax glorious, and high minded, by reason of the favour he is in at this present utterly forgetting his first rising. Titus Livius reciteth that the renowned roman Quintus Cincinatus, before he came to be made captain of Rome, he was taken out of the fields a labouring man, ploughing & tilling the ground. And this so noble person, being occupied in great affairs of the common weal, either in provisions, or munition, or in expeditions of war, was wont to sigh before all the captains, and say. Alas, who cooled tell me now any news, how my beeves do in my grange, my sheep in the mountains, and whether my servants have provided them of hay and pasture to keep them the next year? Surely it is to be thought, that who so ever speaks these words with his mouth, must needs have little pride in his heart. And undoubtedly he proved his words true, and showed that he spoke as he thought, and in good earnest, without intent of jest: since afterwards he returned home again, to follow the plough, to plant his wines, & to see his own things governed, leving behind him a perpetual testimony of his noble & worthy doings. And his common weal also greatly enriched by his famous acts. Saul was king of Israel, & taken for a god, & was anointed of Samuel his father a poor husbandman of the country, & he from his youth brought up in that trade to hold the plough: & yet when he was king, he never disdained to plough his ground, to sow his oats, and to drive his beasts, now to pasture them home again. So that the good king did glory this day to hold the plough, and to morrow to fight with his sword. When fortune therefore showeth herself enemy to any, and that from great dignity and high call, she overthroweth him, and bringeth him to low and mean estate: it is then that he hath good cause to complain of fortune's cruelty, and to bewail his wretched hap, ashamed to see his loathsome misery. But when she worketh contrarily, and from mean estate brings him to great honour & credit, that must needs be great honour and glory to him. Therefore I say let them beware, beware, that bear rule and authority in the court, that they be not proud, glorious and high minded, neither otherwise detected of any kind of vice, though the be never so much in favour and estimation. Sith fortune showeth most her spite against the proud, and disdainful heart, rather than to the humble and meek. To stop the enemy's mouth, there can be found no better means, then for the darling of the court not to be too proud and presumptuous, since no man is found so mad or foolish in the same, as once to dare to say, I accuse this man, because he is in favour and estimation: but he may boldly do it, when he seeth in deed that he is a proud glorious fool. If we see the favoured of the court offended one with the other, we will say it is but heat, if we see him eat to much, we will say it is but of a good stomach. If he rise late, we will excuse him, and say it was late ere he went to bed, and that he was weary with watching. If he play oft, we will say he doth it for pastime: if he be careful in keeping that he hath together; that he is wise and pollytike: if he speak much, that he is a pleasant man & geeven to be merry: if he speak little, that he is wise and modest: if he spend much, that he is liberal and bountiful: but if he be glorious & proud, what shall a man say on him, & with what honest mean can we excuse him? Surely let others look, For I know not. Truly for all other faults and errors of men, they may honestly be excused, save only that of pride. For though many times we commit other offences, it is but through frailty: but if we offend in pride, it cometh of a great folly, & want of discretion. And for the contrary, the lowly & courteous condition of the courtier, do not only depress & resist the detractions and murmurings of their enemies, but doth enforce them against their wills to say well of them. For god doth suffer many times that the perverse nature & condition of one, is subdued & overcome, by the good & gentle usage of an other. Therefore the beloved of court should take great heed, that they show not themselves proud in their words, & much less in their ceremonies which they use in the court: as in going up the stairs, in entering in at the doors, in taking the stool to sit down, & also in putting of his cap. And though perhaps he that shall read these our advertisements, will think them rather precepts for children, then for men: yet I will answer him nevertheless, that they are very necessary for those that are in favour in the court, and for all other courtiers, without the use of which he may happily nourish a venomous Serpent in his breast. And therefore not without great reason we have spoken that we have, that of too little heed taking, sometimes there may follow great trouble to the favoured courtier. For many times they murmur more against him, in not putting of his cap, when he is courteously saluted: then they do, if they deny their favour when they are requested. If one courtier leave to do courtesy to an other, they say he doth it not for that he beareth him ill will: but for want of bringing up. But if he be great with the king, than they say it is not for want of good manner, but for that he is too proud. To say truly, it is an unhappy life, the life of the beloved in the court, sith they attribute all their faults and errors to folly: although they committed them rather through negligence, and want of foresight, then of pretenced malice, or ill will, as it is taken and thought. Gneus Flaccus a noble roman, going in company with other Romans to visit a sick man, and coming also an other romain to see the same sick person likewise, and being no place commodious in the chamber where the last might sit down, neither any stool left to sit down upon: they say, he rose of on his stool, and gave him place that came last. The which humanity and courtesy was afterwards published among all the Romans, and after also greatly praised of the writers. And the Romans also, being very true, grave, curious, and worthy of great faith and credit in all that they wrote, it is to be credited, that that act of courtesy was much noted and esteemed, sith they would write it in the most noble and heroical acts of their common weal. When the favoured courtier is accompanied with knights and gentlemen of the court, that brings him to the court, and it happen any to go up the degrees before him, he should not pass for that, much less show any token that he made any reckoning of it. For to say troth, it is no great matter for him to go up before him on the degrees of stone, sith he went before all on the degrees of favour. What matter is it to the favoured or officer of the court, to see an other enter in at the staier door before him, if afterwards when they shall come where the king is, he shall go into the privy chamber, as one that in deed is in favour and beloved, and the other shall stand without like a sheep? And to conclude I say, if I were in the number of those that are thus belyked, and favoured of the king, I would in the king's chamber use my favour and credit, and abroad, all courtesy and civility.   

¶ That it is not fit for courtiers to be too covetous, if they mean to keep themselves out of many troubles and dangers. Cap. xiiii.  
AVlus Gelius and Pliny render true testimony in their writings, that the honesty of the Romans was so great in their eating, and their modesty in their maintaining of themselves such, that they did not suffer any romain citizen to have any more houses than one to dwell in, nor but one gown to put on his back, one horse to ride upon, not above two yoke of oxen to till his land. Titus Livius, Macrobius, Cicero, Plutarch, Sallust, Lucan, Seneca, Aulus Gelius, Herodian, Eutropius, Trebellius, Vulpitius, and all the other roman writers do never cease to praise the ancient romain poverty, saying the common wealth of Rome never lost one jot of her greatness, & honour, during the time that they went abroad to conquer other realms and dominions: but only since they began to gather treasure together. Lycurgus the Philosopher (who afterwards was king of the Lacedæmonians) ordained in his laws he made, that no neighbour should have any more goods than an other: but that all houses, lands, wines, & possessions, gold, silver, apparel, movables, and generally all other things what soever, should be indifferently holden among them to the common utility of all. And being asked, why he would not consent the common weal should have her own private commodities and particulars, answered thus: The pains and travels men endure in this mortal life, and the great troubles & disorders that come daily to the common weal, chance not so much for that men have need of living to maintain themselves with all, but for that they do desire to leave to their heirs and successors. And therefore I have appointed every thing in common among subjects, because that during their lives they might have honestly to maintain themselves with all, & that they should leave any thing to dispose by will after their deaths. Herodotus saith also, that it was decreed by thinhabitants of the Isles Baleares, that they should suffer none to come into their country to bring them any gold, silver, silk, jewels, or precious stones. And this served them to great profit. For by means of this law, for the space of four C. years that they had wars with the Romans, the Carthagians, the French & the Spaniares, never any of these nations once stirred to go about to conquer their land, being assured that they had neither gold, nor silver, to rob or convey from them. Promotheus that was the first that gave laws to the Egyptians, did not prohibit gold nor silver in Egypt (as those of the Isles Baleares did in their territories) neither did he also command that all thing should be common, as Lycurgus: but only commanded, that none in all his kingdom should be so hardy once to gather any mass or quantity of gold or silver together, & to hoard it up. And this he did upon great penalties: for as he said, avarice is not showed in building of fair houses, neither in having rich movables, but in assembling & gathering together great treasure, & laying it up in their coffers. And plutarch in his book De consolation saith also, that if a rich man died among the Rhodians, leaving behind him one only son & no more suruyving him, they would not suffer that he should be sole heir of all that his father left: but they left him an honest heritage, & living, so his state & call, & to marry him well withal, and the rest of all his sethers goods they dissipated among the poor & orphans. The Lydians, that neither were Greekes nor Romans, but right barbarous people, had a law in their common weal, that every man should be bound to bring up his children, but not to be at tharges in bestowing them in marriage: So that the son or daughter that were now of age to marry, they gave them nothing to their marriage, more than they had gotten with their labour. And those that will exactly consider this laudable custom, shall find that it is rather a law of true philosophers, than a custom of barbarous people. Since thereby the children were enforced to labour for their living, & the parents also were exempted from all manner of covetousness or avarice, to heap up gold & silver, & to enrich themselves. Numa Pompilius second king of the romans, & establisher of their laws & decrees, in the law of the seven tables which he made, he left them order only, which way the romans might rule their common weal in tranquillity: & put in no clause nor chapter that they should make their wills, whereby their children might inherit their father's goods. And therefore being asked why he permitted (in his laws) every man to get as much goods as he cooled, & not to dispose them by will, nor leave them to their heirs: He answered, because we see, that albeit there are some children that are unhappy, vicious, & abominable, yet are there few father's notwithstanding this, that will deprive & disherit them of their goods at their death, only to leave them to any other heir: & therefore for this cause I have commanded, that all the goods that remain after the death of the owner of them, should be given to the common weal, as sole heir & successor of them: to th'end that if their children should become honest & virtuous, they should then be distributed to them: if they were wicked & unhappy, that they should never be owners of them, to hurt & offend the good. Macrobius in his book De somno Scipionis saith, that there was in the old time an old and ancient law amongst the Tuscans duly observed, & kept, & afterwards taken up of the romans: that in every place, where so ever it were, (in town or village) within their territories, on new years day every man should present himself before the judge or magistrate of the place he was in, to give him account of his manner of life, & now he maintained himself, & in this examinations they did accustom to punish him that lived idly, & with knavery & deceit maintained themselves: as minstrels, ruffians, dicers, carders, & jugglers: coggers, foysters, cosiners of men, & sylching knaves, with other loitering vacabonds & rogues, that live of others swett & toil, without any pain or labour they take upon them to deserve that they eat. I would to god (if it were his will) that this Tuscan law were observed of christians: then we should see how few they be in number, that give themselves to any faculty or science, or other trade, to live by their own travel & industry: and how many & infinite a number they be that live in idle sort. The divine Plato in his Times saith, that although an idle man be more occasion of many troubles & inconveniences in a common weal, than a covetous man, yet is it not always greater: for the idle man, & that gladly taketh his ease, doth but desire to have to eat: but the covetous man doth not only desire to eat, but to be rich and have money enough.  
All the eloquence and pleasant speech that the Orators studied in their orations, the lawyers in their law, and the famous philosophers in their doctrine and teaching, was for no other cause, but to admonish and persuade those of the common weal, to take very good heed in choosing of their governors, that they were not covetous and ambitious in th'administration of their public affairs. Laertius reciteth also, that a Rhodian jesting with Eschines the philosopher said unto him. By the immortal gods I swear to thee O Eschines, that I pity thee to see thee so poor, to whom he answered. By the same immortal gods I swear to thee again, I have compassion on thee, to see thee so rich. Sith riches bring but pain and trouble to get them, great care to keep them, displeasure to spend them, peril to hoard them, and occasion of great dangers and inconveniences to defend them: and that that grieveth me most, is, that where thou keepest thy treasure fast locked up, there also thy heart is buried. Surely Eschines words seemed rather spoken of a christian, then of a philosopher. In saying, that where a man's treasure is, there is also his heart. For there is no covetous man, but daily he thinks upon his hid treasure: but he never calleth to mind his sins he hath committed. Comparing therefore those things we have spoken, with those things we will speak, I say: that it becometh the favoured of princes to know, that it is less seemly for than to be covetous then others: For the greatness of their favour ought not to be showed only in being rich, but also in being noble & worthy Plutark showeth, that Denis the Syracusan coming one day into the chamber of the prince his son, and finding gryat riches of gold and silver that he had geeven him, he spoke very angrily to him and said, thou hadst been far fitter for a merchant of Capua, then to be as thou art the kings son of Scicilla sith thou hast a wit to gather, but not to spend. Which is not fit, nor lawful for thee, if thou wilt succeed me after my time in my kingdom. And therefore I do remember thee, that kingdoms and high estates are not maintained with keeping of riches, but only with giving, and honourably bestowing them well. And to this purpose also reciteth Plutarch, that Ptholomeus Philadelphus was demanded, why he was so slow, and with so great difficulty received the services of others: and was so liberal and noble in giving, and granting favours: he answered. I will not get reputation amongst the gods, nor good renown amongst men for being rich, but only I will be praised and esteemed for making of others, rich, and having under me rich subjects. These words that Tholomee said to a friend of his, & those that Denis spoke to his son me thynks the beloved of the court should not only be contented to read them, but to seek to keep them still in mind, sith by them we may manifestly see, that riches are ever more profitable for a man that oweth them, and giveth them bountifully: then to have them, and with covetousness to hoard & lock them up in their coffers. And the favoured of princes should not be envy, for the goods that they can get by their favour and credit, but only for the good that thereby they may do to their friends and kynsfolk. For they are those that with others goods, make the people slaves to them. What greater nobility can there be in this world, then to make others noble? what greater riches, then to make others rich? and what more liberty, then to make others free? The glory that the princes, and those that they esteem and have in their savour ought to have, should not consist in getting together much goods, but in winning many servants and friends. Great are the privileges that the noble and liberal men have, for their children are obedient to them, their neighbours love them, their friends do accompaigne them, their servants serve them faithfully, strangers vysyt them, and the enemies they have, dare not speak against them: for although they spite at their greatness and favour, yet they dare not once presume to rebuke or reprove their lyberalyty. Phalaris the Agrigentine, Denis the Syracusan, Catelyne the roman, and jugurth the Numidian: These four famous tyrants did not maintain their states and royal kingdoms with the virtues they had, by only but force & ample gifts they gave. So that we may well say, that in the world there is no stone so philosophical, nor hand so liberal as treasure & riches: sith that in giving it, good men become great, & tyrants thereby are supported. I would those that are princes familiars would note well this word, that is, that great favour joined with much covetousness is a thing unpossible to continue long in any. For if he mean to keep himself in favour, he must needs fly avarice: and if he will needs stick to avarice, he must of necessity lose his favour. There is no better means for him that seeks the prince's favour, to get into favour: then to serve him diligently, and to trouble him seldomly. The kings officer that serveth him in his house, must endeavour to make the king know that he serveth him more for the love he beareth him, then for any gain or profit he hopeth at his hands. For in doing so, the king will not only with his favour & benefits bestowed on him, treat & handle him as one he loveth & maketh account of, but also love him as if he were his own son. It is most just, the beloved of the prince, love & honour the prince with all his heart, sense he loveth him, & needeth not. Those that are beloved, made of, & favoured in princes courts, should make great account of it, & therefore they shayld serve willingly. For the love we bear to princes, cometh commonly rather of the necessity we have of them, then of our own proper wills. But the love of princes to us, cometh of mere good will, & not of necessity. If any man do company me, speak to me, & serve me: it is only in that respect that I ever give him, & for that he hopeth I will give him in time to come. And to such a man I might truly say, he rather flaterith than loveth me. The esteemed of the court must note if it please them, that though the prince have others about him, whom he favoureth & loveth as well as himself, that he be not therefore offended nor displeased a whit. For else all those he seeth accepted into favour with the prince, he would make them his enemies, & because they may avoid this inconvenience, they must take it in very good part. For albeit the prince give his favour to one alone, yet he imparteth his gifts to divers. Those that newly begun to rise in the court, & to do much: may not even upon a sudden show themselves to be rich, but only study daily to increase in favour. For every time that the courtier doth assure me he doth not diminish in favour, I will be bound to him he shall never be poor. The way they must observe in the court to be great, & to be able to do is this: That is, to visit oft, to suffer, to present to persever, to be beloved, & to continue in the prince's favour: Which I assure you, is a great secret, & right alchimyne of court, suddenly to rise in favour, and to be rich, & all in short time. By this I infer, that the wise man ever desireth first to be in favour, before he covet to be rich: but the fool & Idiot desireth first to be rich, & then in favour last. Not few but many we have seen in princes courts, which though fortune in short time hath exalted to the first degree of riches & made them chief in favour, yet within short space after, she hath made them also lose their riches, & fall from the top of their honour. It is most certain, that if one have enemies in the court, only for that he is infavor, he shall have as many more, if being in favour, he be also rich. For we are all of so ill a condition, in things that touch our particular profit, that all that we see geeven to others, we think suddenly taken away from ourselves. We have heretofore said, that it is not fit for the courtier, and those that are in favour, to command for his profit all that he list, neither all those that he may. And we now at this present also advise them to take heed, that they do not accept & take all that is offered & presented, although they may lawfully do it. For if he be not wise in commanding, & moderatin taking, a day might come that he should see himself in such extremity, that he should be enforced to call his friends not to counsel him, but rather to help & succour him. It is true, that it is a natural thing for a courtier that hath 20. crowns in his purse, to desire suddenly to multiply it to a .100. from a .100. to .200. from 200. to a .1000. from a .1000. to 2000 and from .2000. to 10000 So that this poor wretched creature is so blinded in covetousness, that he knoweth not, nor feeleth not, that as this avar ce continually increaseth & augmenteth in him, so his life daily diminisheth and decreaseth, besides that that every man mocks & scorns him, that thinketh the true contentation consisteth in commanding of many, & in the faculty of possessing much riches. For to say truly it is not so, but rather disordinate riches troubleth & grieveth the true contentation of men, and awaketh ever in them daily a more appetite of covetousness. We have seen many courtiers rich & beloved, but none in deed that ever was contented, or wearied with commanding, but rather his life should fail him then covetousness. O how many have I seen in the court, whose legs nor feet have been able to carry them, nor their body strong enough to stand alone, nor their hands able to write, nor their sight hath served them to see to read, nor their teeth to speak, neither their jaws to eat, nor their ears to hear, nor their memory to travail in any suit or matter, & yet have not their tongue failed them to require presents and gifts of the prince, neither deep and fine wit, to practise in court for his most avail and vantage. So incurable is the disease and plague of avarice, that he that is sick of that infirmity, can not be healed neither with poverty, nor yet be remedied with riches. Sense this contagious malady and apparent danger is now so commonly known, and that it is crept into courtiers, and such as are in high favour and great authority by reason of this vile sin of avarice, I would counsel him rather to apply himself to be well thought of, and esteemed, then to endeavour to have enough. Albeit Queen Semiramis was wife to king Belius, and mother of king Ninus, and although by nature she was made a woman, yet had she a heart never other wise but valiant and noble. For after she was widow, she made herself lord by force of arms of the great India, and conquered all Asia, and in her life time caused a goodly tomb to be made where she would life after her death, and about the which she caused to be graven in golden letters these words.  
Who longs to swell with mass of shining gold,  
and craves to catch such wealth as few possessed:  
This stately tomb let him in haste unfold,  
where endless hopes of hateful coin do rest.  
Many days and kings reigns passed before any durst open this sepulker, until the coming of the great Cyrus, who commanded it to be opened. And being reported to him by those that had the charge to seek the treasure, that they had sought to the bottomless pit and wolrds end, but treasure they cooled find none, nor any other thing, save a stone wherein were graven these words.  
Ah hapless knight, whose high distraughted mind  
by follies play abused was so ●ych:  
that secret tombs the care as could not bind,  
but thou wouldst reave them up for to be rich.  
Plutarch and also Herodotus which have both written this history of Semiramis do show & affirm, that Queen Semiramis got great honour by this gest, & king Cyrus great shame & dishonour. If courtiers that are rich, think & believe that for that they have money enough & at their will, that therefore they should be far from all troubles & miseries, they are far deceived. For if the poor soul toil & hale his body to get him only that that he needeth, much more doth the rich man torment & burn his heart, till he be resolved which way to spend that superfluous he hath. Ihesu what a thing is it to see a rich man how he tormenteth himself night & day, imagyning & devising with himself whether he shall with that money that is left, buy leases, mills, or houses, amnuities, vines, or cloth, lands, tenements, or pastures: or some thing in fee: or whether he shall enrich his son with the thirds or fifts, & after all these vain thoughts, gods will is to strike him with death suddenly, not only before he have determined how he should lay out or spend this money, but also before he have made his will. I have many times told it to my friends, yea & preached it to them in the pulpit, and written it also in my books, that it is far greater trouble to spend the goods of this world well, and as they ought to be spent: than it is to get them. For they are gotten with sweat, and spent with cares. He that hath no more than he needeth, it is he that knoweth well how to part from them, & to spend them: but he that hath abundans & more than needful, doth never resolve what he should do. Whereof followeth many times, that those which in his life time were enemies to him, shall hap to be heirs after his death of all the goods & money he hath. It is a most sure & certain custom among mortal men, that commonly those that are rich men (while they are alive) spend more money vainly in things they would not, & that they have no pleasure in, & where in they would least lay it out: and after their death they leave the most part of their inheritance to those, whom they loved least. For it happeneth many times, that the son which he loved worst, inheryteth his goods, and that son which he loved best, and made most of, remaineth poor. Therefore continuing still our matter I say, that I know not the cause why the favoured of the court desire to be so rich, covetous, and insatiable, sith they alone have to get the goods where afterwards to spend them, they have need of the counsel and advise of many. Let not those also that are in favour with the prince, make too great a show openly of their riches, but if they have abundance, let them keep it secret. For if their lurking enemies know not what they have, the worst they can do, they can but murmur: but if they see it once, they will never lin till they have accused him. To see a courtier build sumptuous houses, to furnish them with wonderful & rich hangyngs, to use excess & prodigality in their meats, to have their cubberds marvelously decked with cups, and pots of gold and silver, to see infinite presents brought into his house, and to be greedy of money in taking, and to have a great train of servants to wait upon them: all these are things not only to make them murmur & repine at, but also when time and place serveth, to condemn and accuse them, to the prince. And this were but little to murmur at them, and accuse them, so that they did not defame them, and diminish their honour and reputation. For they tell it abroad afterwards, either that they are corrupted with presents, or that they do rob and steal from the prince their master. And therefore I return once again to admonish them, and specially the officer of the court, that they shall not need, neither is it requisite they make any ostentation of their riches, if they be wise at least. For besides that every body will murmur against him, they will not spare to bring it to the prince's ears quickly, so that by misfortune it might happen to him, that the king would do that with his servant the hunter doth oft with his beasts he taketh, that many times he cherisheth him and giveth him meat to eat, not to bring him up, but to fat him, and kill him for his own eating.   

¶ That the favoured of the court should not trust too much to their favour and credit they have, nor to the great prosperity of their life, a worthy chapter and full of good doctrine. Cap. xv.  
WHat reputation Paul the apostle had amongst the christians, the like had the great Cato the judge, among the Romans, who in the progression of his life proceeded so honestly, & in the government of the public weal was so just, that he deserved that this epitaph should be written upon his palace gate.  
O Cato great, whose everlasting fame  
Amid the earth still lives with honour dew,  
was near none, could the oppress with shame  
for judgement wrong, whereby the guiltless rue.  
Was near none, durst press to thee with suyts,  
or fill thy hands with bribes, or flatter thee  
whereby thou shouldst not show the worthy fruits  
of justice zeal, as judges all should be.  
Among all the noble and renowned Romans, he only would never suffer stature or Image of his, to be set up in the high Capitol. Whereat divers marveling, and imagining diversly what was his meaning, he being one day in the senate said to them these words openly. I will they shall seek the good works I have done, by which I did deserve that my Image should be erected in the Capitol: then to give them cause to go search & inquire what lineage I was of, & what was my life, with intent to pull down my Image. For it happeneth many times, that those whom unpleasant fortune from mean and low estate hath raised to high degree and step of honour, do become afterwards by the same occasion rather defamed, then praised. For there are many that are reverenced, and honoured openly, by reason of their honour and dignity they have at this present, of whom they make a jesting stock afterwards when they see them fall. Lucan sayeth, that Pompeius would say many times, when he would speak of these worldly things, my friends, I can tell you a true thing, whereby you may know the little occasion we have to trust human felycityes. Example you may see in me, which attained to the roman Empire, without any hope I had ever to come unto it: & afterwards also not mistrusting any thing, even suddenly it was taken from me, and I deprived of it. Lucius Seneca being banished from Rome, wrote a letter to his mother Albuina, in which he did both comfort her, and himself, and wrote thus. O my dear mother Albuina, I never in all my life believed or trusted unstable fortune, although there have been many pieces and leagues made betwixt her and our house. For if at a time the traitoress consented that for a space I should be quiet and at rest, she did it not of good will she had to leave to pursue me, but to give me a more cloaked security. For when she seeth we think ourselves assured, than with all her force & fury she giveth us the assault, as if she came to assault the enemies camp. And I tell thee further yet (good mother) that all the good she wrought in me, and the honour she heaped on me, & all the faculties & abundance of riches she brought to my house, she told me she gave me them freely, but I always answered her I did accept them in way of impressed, & not of gift. Her promises therefore she offered me, the honour she laid upon me, & the riches she gave me, she laid them up in such a corner of my house, that either by day or by night she might at her pleasure when she would take them all from me, without that she should trouble at all therefore my judgement, or that she should sorrow my heart a whit. And because thou shouldst know how I did esteem of fortune, I tell thee, that I ever thought it good never to let any thing come within me, nor into my heart, but only near unto me: & so I was contented to esteem it, & keep it under good safety, but not that I therefore applied and gave all my affection and mind to it: I was glad to have fortune my friend, but if I lost her, I was never sorry for her. Finally I conclude, that when she came to assault me & to rob my house, she might well convey all that was put in the ark, but not that she could ever carry away the lest sigh of my heart. They say that king Philip father of Alexander the great being advertised of three great victories happened in sundry places to his army, kneeled down on both his knees, and holding his hands up to the heavens said. O cruel fortune, O merciful gods, O my good luck, I beseech you most humbly, that after so great a glory and victory as this, you have hitherto geeven me: you will moderate your correction and punishment, which after this I look for that you will give me, that you punish me with pity, and not with utter destruction and ruin. And yet he added this further to his words. Not without cause I conjure thee O fortune, & do beseech you immortal gods, that you will punish me favourably, but not to undo me: because I am assured, that overmuch felicity and prosperity of this life, is no more but a prediction and presage of a great calamity & ill ensuing hap. Truly all the examples above recited are worthy to be noted, & to be kept always before the eyes of our mind, sith by them we come to know, that in the prosperity of this our thrawled life there is little to hope for, & much to be afraid of. It is true we are very frail by nature, since we are borne frail, we live frail, and daily we fall into a thousand frailties: but yet notwithstanding we are not so frail, but we may if we will resist vice. And all this cometh only, because one sort of people followeth an other, but one reason seldom followeth an other. If we fall, if we stumble, if we be sick, if we break our face, are we sure (that serving as we do the world) that the world will recure & remedy us? No sure, it is not so. For the remedy the world is wont to give to our troubles, is ever notwithstanding greater trouble than the first, So that they are like to searing irons, that burn the flesh and heal not the wound. For the world is full of guile & deceit, & subtle to decive, but very slow to give us remedy. And this we see plainly. For if it persuade us to revenge any injury received, it doth it only in revenging of that, to make us receive a thousand other injuries. And if sometimes we think we receive some comfort of the world, of our pains and troubles of the body, it afterwards over loadeth our minds, with a sea of thoughts & cogitations: So that this accursed and flattering world maketh us believe, and persuadeth us the right & perfit way, & in the end we are cast unwares into the nets of all wickedness, privily laid to snare us. How great so ever a man be in favour with the king, how noble of blood, how fine of wit, & how ware so ever he be, let every man be assured that practiseth in the world, he shall in the end be deceived by him. For he costeth us very dear, & we sell ourselves to him good cheap. I told you but little, to tell you we sold ourselves good cheap, for I should have said better, in saying we have geeven ourselves in pray wholly to him, without receiving any other recompense. And in deed they are very few, and rare, that have any reward of him: & infinite are they that serve him, without any other recompense, more than a foolish and vain hope. O traitorous world, in how short a time dost thou receive us, and afterwards with a glimpse of an eye suddenly dost put us from thee, thou gladdest and makest us sorrowful, thou callest us to honour and abasest us, thou punishest us, & dost us a thousand pleasures. And finally I say thou dost make us so vile, and poisonest us with thy vile labours, that without thee, we are yet ever with thee: and that that grieves us worst of all is, that having the thief in the house, we go out of the house to give him place, and make him owner. When the world knoweth one once that is proud and presumptuous, he procureth him honour: to another that is covetous, riches, to an other that is a glutton, good meats: to an other that is carnal, the commodity of women: to an other that is idle, quiet and ease: & all this doth the traitorous world, to the end that after as fish whom he hath fed, he may lose the net of sin upon us to catch us in. If we would resist the first temptations the world offereth us, it is impossible he durst so many times assault us. For to say truly by our small resistance, increaseth his over great audacity. I would these lovers of this world would but tell me a little, what reward or what hope they can hope of him, why they should suffer so many encumbers broils and troubles as they do. To think the world can give us perpetual life, it is a mockery, and extreme madness to hope of it. For we see when life is most dear to us, and that we are loathest to leave the world, then arriveth death in an unhappy hour to swallow us up, and to deprive us of all this worldly felicity. To hope that the world will give us assured mirth, this is also a madness. For the days excepted we must lament, & the due hours allotted out to complain, alas we shall see a small surplus of time left, to laugh and be meery. I can say no more, but exhort every man to look well about him what he doth, and that he be advised what he thinketh. For when we think, and believe we have made peace with fortune, even than is she in battle against us. And I do assuredly believe, that that I now prepare myself to speak even presently, shallbe read of many, but observed of few: and that is, that I have seen those come out of their own proper houses, morning & lamenting that had spent and consumed all their time in laughing and making good cheer, & serving this miserable world. Which is but only a giver of all evils, a ruin of the good, a heap of sin, a tyrant of virtues, a traitor of peace and war, a sweet water of errors, a river of vices, a persecutor of the virtuous, a comb of lies, a deviser of novelties, a grave of the ignorant, a cloak of the wicked, an oven of lechery, and finally a Charybdis, where all good and noble hearts do perish, and a right Silla, where all noble desires and thoughts are cast away togeethers. For it is most certain, that this worldling, that is not content with this world, and that leaveth his first state, and that taketh upon him a new manner of life, and changeth from house to house, and country to country: he shall never notwithstanding content himself, nor quiet his mind. And the cause hereof is, that if a worldling departed out of his house, never to come again into it: there are yet at hand immediately other ten licentious persons, that do but watch to enter into his house. Speaking more particularly I say, that in the court of princes they account them happy, and fortunate, that be in favour with the prince, that have great affairs in court, that be rich and of power, that be served and honoured of every man, and that take place and go before every man. So that it may be said, that the common people do not call those fortunate, that deserve to be fortunate: but only those that have enough. But the ancient philosophers were not of this mind, and much less are the wise men & virtuous men at this day: For we see that in the court of princes many rather lack favour, than life: and others lack both favour, and life togethers: and others not only their life and favour, but also all their goods and faculties. So that, all that that their favour and credit have geeven them in many years and by sundry griefs and troubles, they come afterwards to lose them even upon a sudden, and in short time. I grant notwithstanding that it is a great honour, profit, and furtherance, for the courtier to be in his prince's favour, but nevertheless he cannot deny me, but that it is a dangerous thing also. For naturally a great familiarity, bringeth also a great envy with it, sith the beloved of the prince is commonly ill willed of the common weal. And that, that is yet most dangerous is, that to obtain the savour of his prince, he must so behave himself, that his service must be more rare, better, and exquysite, than all others: and otherwise, to fall in disgrace, and to make the prince forget all the good service he hath done him his whole life time, he need but the least displeasure and fault he can commit. Eusenides was marvelously beloved with Tolomey, who after fortune had exalted and brought him to honour, and that he was grown to great wealth, said one day to Cuspides the philosopher these words. O my friend Cuspides tell me I pray thee, of thy faith, is there any cause in me to be sad, sith fortune hath placed me in so great autoryty and honour, as she can devise to do, and that the kynk Tolomey my lord hath now no more to give me, he hath already been so bountiful to me? To whom the philosopher answered, saying. O Eusenides, if thou wert a philosopher, as thou art a beloved servant, thou wouldst tell me an other tale, then that thou tellest me now. For although king Tolomey hath no more to give thee, know'st not thou that spiteful fortune hath power to take away from thee many things? For the noble heart feeleth more grief, and displeasure, to come down one stair, or step, then to climb up a hundred. Not many days after these words passed between Cuspides, and Eusenides, it happened that one day King Tolomey found Eusenides talking with aleman or courtesan of his which he loved dearly, whereat he was so much offended, that he made her strait drink a cup of poison, and caused him to be hanged before his own gates. The emperor Severus had one in so great favour and credit which was called Plautius, & he loved him so extremely, & trusted him so much, that he never read letter, but Plautius must read it, and he never granted commission or licence to any man, but it must pass under Plautius' seal: neither did he ever grant any thing, but at the request of Plautius, nor did make wars or peace, without the counsel and advice of Plautius. The matter fell out so, that Plautius' entering one night into the emperor's chamber armed with a privy cote, his ill hap was such, that a little of his breast before was open, whereby was spied the mail, which Bahhian seeing, being the emperor's eldest son said unto him these words. Tell me Plautius, do those that are the beloved of princes use to come into their bed chamber at these hours, armed with Iron coat? I swear to thee by the Immortal gods, and let them so preserve me in the succession of the Empire, that sith thou comest armed with Iron, thou shalt also die with Iron. Which presently took place. For before he went out of the chamber, they struck of his head. The Emperor Comodus (that was son of the good Emperor Marcus Aurelius) had a servant called Cleander, a wise and grave man, old, and very pollytyck: but with all a little covetous. This Cleander was oft times requested of the pretoryne company, that is to say of the whole band of soldiers, that he would command they might be paid their pay dew to them: and to persuade him the better to pay it, they showed him a bill signed from the Emperor, to which bill he answered. That the emperor had nothing to do in the matter. For although he were lord of Rome, yet had he not to deal in the affairs of the common weal. These discourteous, and unseemly words related to the emperor Comodus, and perceiving the small obedience and respect of duty that Cleander showed to him, he commanded forth with he should be slain to his great shame, & that all his goods should be confiscate. Alcimenides was a great renowned king among thee Greeks, as Plutark writeth of him, and he favoured one Pannonius entirely well, to whom only he did not commit his person, his trust, but also the whole affairs and doings of the the common weal, & he might dispose of the goods of the king, at his will and pleasure, without leave or licence. So that all the subjects found, they had more benefit in serving of Pannonius then in pleasing of the King. Therefore the king & the beloved Pannonius playing at the ball togethers, they came to contend upon a chase, and the one said it was thus, the other said it was contrary, and as they were in this contention, the king commanded presently those of his guard, that in the very place of the chase where Pannonius denied, they should strike of his head. Constantius the Emperor also had one whom he liked very well, and made much of, called Hortentius, which in deed might well be counted a prince's darling, for he did not only rule the affairs of the common weal, of the palace, of wars, his goods, and person of the emperor: but also he was ever placed above all the Imbassatours at his table. And when the emperor went in progress, or any other journey, he ever had him to his bedfellow. Thus things being in this state, I tell you, it happened that one day a page giving the emperor drink in a glass, the glass by mishap fell out of the pages hand and brake in pieces, whereat the emperor was not a little displeased and offended. And even in this evil & unhappy hour came Hortentius to the King to present him certain bills to sign of hasty dispatch (which was a very unapt time chosen) and the emperor contented yet to sign it, could neither the first nor the second time, because the pen was ill favordly made, and the ink so thick that it would not write: which made the king so angry, that even presently for anger he commanded Hortensius' head to be stricken of. But to the end we may come to the knowledge of many things in few words, I will show you how Alexander the great slew in his choler his dear accounted Cratherus, and Pyrrhus' King of the Epirotes, Fabatus his secretory. The Emperor Bitillion his greatest friend Cincinatus. Domitian the emperor, Rufus of his chamber. Adrian the Emperor his only favoured Ampromae, Dioclesian his friend Patritius, whom he loved as himself, and always called him friend and companion. Diadumeus, Pamphilion his great treasurer. For whose death he was so sorrowful, that he would have made himself away, because he caused him to be so cruelly slain. All these above named, and infinite others also, some were masters, some lords, some kings, and some of great authority and favour about princes, by whose tragical histories and examples we may plainly see, that they did not only lose their goods, favour and credit, but also upon very light occasions were put to death by sword. Therefore mortal men should put no trust in worldly things, sith that of little occasion they become soon great, and of much less they suddenly fall, and come to worse estate than before. And therefore king Demetrius asking one day Euripides the philosopher, what he thought of human debility, and of the shortness of this life answered. Me thinks O King Demetrius, that there is nothing certain nor sure in this unstable life: sith all men living, and all things also that serves them, endure daily some eclipse: and hereunto replied suddenly Demetrius & said. O my good Euripides, thou hadst said better that all things vegitive, and sensitive, and each other living thing doth not only feel the eclipses efforce, and change from day to day, but from hour to hour, and minute to minute. Meaning king Demetrius by these words he spoke, that there is nothing so stable in this world, be it of what state or condition it will be, but in a twyinkling of an eye, is ready to run into a thousand dangers and perils: & albeit we be all subject (of what state or degree so ever we be) to sundry & divers thralls, & mishaps, yet none are so near neighbours to them, as those that are in highest authority, and greatest favour with princes. For there are many that shoots to hit down the white of their favour, but few that (being down) will once put it up again and restore it to his place. For to live a contented life, a man had need to want nothing: neither to have any occasion to trouble him. But the things that trouble us in this vale of misery, being so many and of such abundance, and those things contrarily so few, & rare to come by, that we need and want: we may justly account this life woeful, and miserable above all others. For sure far greater are the grieves and displeasures we receive, for one only thing we want: then the pleasures are great we have for a hundredth others, whereof we have abundance. Besides that, the familiars of princes cannot think themselves so mighty and fortunate, that any man may presume to call them blessed or happy. For if some serve and honour them, others there are that persecute them, and if in their houses they have that flatter them, and make much of them, there want not in the court others that murmur at them, and speak ill of them. And if they have cause some times to rejoice that they are in favour: so have they likewise continual trouble and fear that they shall fall, and be put out of favour: And if they glory to have great treasure, they sorrow also to have many enemies. And if the services and company they have do delight them, the continual business they have do vex them: So that we may say of them, as of plastering of houses, which are never so fair, but they become black with some spot in time, and worms and other vermin do eat and waste them. If there be none that dare once admonish these great men in authority, and tell them their faults by word of mouth: yet I will take upon me to do it with my writing, and say, that they speak nothing but it is noted, their steps they tread are seen, every morsel of meat they eat is marked, they are accused for the pleasures they take, and all things that they have are observed, All the pleasures that is done them is registered, and all ill that that they know by them is published: And finally I conclude, that the favoured of princes, are a game at tables, whereat every man playeth: not with dice, nor cards, but only with serpent's tongues. And therefore I have said it, and once again I return to say: That all those that are accepted of princes must live continually very wisely, and advisedly in all their doings, for it is true, and too true, that every man's tongue runs of them, and much more if they had time and opportunity, like as they defame them with their tongues, so would they offend them with their hands. We do not speak this so much that they should look to defend their life: but to foresee that they may preserve their honour, and goods from peril, and to give them by this precept a good occasion to look about them. For to put them in disgrace with the King, all the days of their life (to their utter undoing and overthrow) the king need but only give ear to his enemies.   

¶ The author admonisheth those that are in favour, and great with the prince, that they take heed of the deceits of the world, and learn to live, and die honourably, and that they leave the court before age overtake them. Cap. xvi.  
When king Alderick kept Severine the roman consul prisoner, otherwise named Boetius: that consul complained much of fortune. Saying alas fortune, why hast thou forsaken me in my age, since thou didst favour me so much in mine youth, and that I had served thee so many years, why hast thou left me to the hands of mine enemies. To which complaints fortune made answer thus. Thou art unthankful to me O Severius, sith I have used my things with thee in such manner, as I never used the like with any other roman. And that this is true I tell thee. Consider, O Severius, that I made thee whole, and not sick: a man and no woman: of excellent wit and understanding, and not gross and rude: rich and not poor: wise, and not foolish: free, and not bond: a Senator, and no plebeian: noble and valiant, and not cowardly: a roman, and no barbarus, or stranger born: in great, and not mean estate: a grave man, and no light nor vain person: fortunate, and not unlucky: worthy of fame, and not oblivyon: to conclude I say, I gave thee such part in the common weal, that thou hadst good cause to have pity of all others, and all others cause to have spite and envy at thee. Again replied Severius to this answer and said. O cruel and spiteful fortune, how liberal thou art in the things thou speakest, and resolute in the things thou disposest, sith always thou dost what thou wilt and seldom that thou oughtest. And thou knowest there is no such mishap, as to remember a man hath once been rich, and fortunate in his time: and to see himself now brought to extreme misery. Hear fortune thou oughtest to know it, if thou knowest it not, that he that never was rich, scant knoweth his poverty. But alas for pity, he that was rich, and had once all pleasures and ease, doth sorrow much for the present extreamyty and bewaileth the forepast felicity. And I tell thee also, and thou oughtest to believe me, that we repute them more happy whom thou never exaltest nor gavest honour to: then we do those whom thou hast called to high honour, and afterwards hast overthrown them, and brought them lower, and in worse state than before. And as for me, O fortune, I tell thee truly, I think no man fortunate, but him that never knew what good fortune meant. And this was the discourse betwixt fortune and the consul Severius. By which we may perceive and comprehend, that truly none may be thought unfortunate and miserable, but such as have been before in great honour and reputation: and he cannot be thought abased of his state, or countenance, if he were not before in prosperity, and favoured of fortune. So that we may well say, that never no man in this world was so free, as he that never suffered fortune to enter into his gates. I have been desirous to tell you of these things, because that such as are in favour and credit with princes, should not reckon too much of their favour: neither that those that are not in favour with them, should be sorry for it a whit. For the great authority and credit that a man hath by the court, is in this mortal life in the end nothing else, then as a little worm in an apple, a weevil in the corn, and a maggot in pease: which without seem very good, and within they are all rotten and eaten. Prince's authority above all others is most supreme, for they are not subject to the Censors and judges, to reprove them of their words and sayings, neither to magistrates, to whom they should render any account of their doings, whereof proceeds, that as they have free will to love, so have they a free liberty to hate, and absolute power to punish. Therefore those that are in favour in court, and that shall read these writings of mine, must well consider what we mean by all those things we have spoken: whereby they shall easily know, that princes are no less apt to hate him to day they loved yesterday: then to love him to morrow, whom they hated the other day. The first and chiefest thing the courtier ought to have, is to fear god, and to follow the profession of a good Christian. For in th'end they live in court with more safety, having a good and pure conscience: then with all the great credit and favour they can have. And therefore let every courtier believe me, aswell in favour as out of favour, that it is the best and surest way to get the goods of this world, as also for the preservation of their souls, to esteem and make account of the scriptures and gods commandments. And if he do otherwise, it shall happen many times unto him, that in the dispatch of his weightyest affairs, and needful business, even when he thynks his matter brought to a good end, and that it is without all doubt of dispatch: then steps in crooked fortune with her wont poison against him & either makes him in manner beegynne his suit anew again, or at least utterly overthroweth it quite. For there are in princes courts many times certain suits, that have a good and better end than looked for: and contraryly many others that are at the point of dispatching, and yet by sinister accident clean overthrown, and succeeding contrary to their assured expectation. And yet notwithstanding it seemeth to the suitor, that the cause hereof cometh, either through the solicitors negligence and default, and little care to follow it, or else through the malice and ill will of the favoured of the court, that took upon him the suit: and yet neither the one, nor the other was cause of the disorder, but only the divine providence of God, to admonish us that in all our actions and doings it little prevaileth us to move the king or his officers in all our matters, if we do not deserve at gods hands to obtain it. And therefore said the divine Plato in his Timeon, that these that have honour and prosperity in this life, have as much need of good counsel, as the poor afflicted creatures have, of help and remedy.  
And surely it was wisely and profoundly spoken of him. For as need and misery in this wretched life bringeth men to despair: So likewise we see prosperity induce men, to forget themselves, and their state. And that that I have hitherto spoken of, and that I hope yet to speak: none can understand nor conceive, but such as once in their time, in their navigation had a fortunate and lucky wind, and afterward turning contrary, even at shore side have cast them on rocks, and utterly perished them. To th'end that those in reading these my writings, may yet lament and mourn for pity: where the other can but only read, and go no further. If we compare and put together the rich with the poor, the sorrowful with the merry, the fortunate with the unfortunate, the favoured with the banished, the virtuous and noble, with the vicious and defamed: we shall find without doubt the number of those far greater, that cooled rise again being down, and had taken a fall: then those that cooled keep themselves in the authority and favour, that fortune had brought them to. I have not said it a few times, but every moment I would return to say it again, that this traitorous world in all his doings is so deceitful, and Fortune in all that she promiseth so doubtful, that they make them believe whom they make rich, beloved, and raise to high estate, that they do it but to honour them: and afterwards contraryly they spin a thousand deceypts and trumpryes, to make them sooner fall to the ground. Surely I have seen but few, and I remember I have read of none, to whom Fortune ever showed herself so benign and courteous, that ever put a man in his chiefest top of prosperity & favour, but in few days after she took his life from him, or at least in the end of his journey she made him run into some secret disgrace or mishap. And therefore I would that the courtier that obtaineth favour in the court, and riches in the common wealth, that he should reckon and esteem them as lent him, not geeven him, and that he should so govern the things of fortune, as he would that man, whom he trusted not at all. For as Seneca saith. No man is afficted with fortune, but he only that trusted to her, without fear or suspect at all of her. For courtiers and those that are in great favour and authority ought to know, that like as in the deepest seas, soonest perish the ships: and as in the highest mountains the Sun hath always least force and power, and as in the greenest bows is soon hid the fowler's little net, to catch the silly birds: And as with the fullest baits of meat the fish are soon taken, and that with great force the wind doth blow on highest trees, and as the most proud and stately buildings, the earthquake doth most hurt, and soon overthrow them: even so by this I mean, that Fortune never strove to throw down any, but such as she had made great in honour and favour. For I do not take it for no great good luck, (though all things succeed to be favoured of the court better than he looked for) nor to see them brought by their friends, to great estate and honour. For albeit fortune for a time dissemble with him, it is not for that she hath forgotten him, but afterwards to give him a greater punishment. Those that will marvel at that I will speak even now, it proceeds of nothing else, but wanting wit, and capacity to understand it. There is no greater sickness in this world, then to be in health: No greater poverty, than never to have need of any thing. And there is no greater temptation, then to be never tempted: Nor there can be no greater sadness, then to be always merry: Nor greater danger, than never to be in danger. For many times it so happeneth, that where a man thinketh to pass over a dangerous flood safe enough, his horse falleth over head and ears, and drowneth his master, or he escapeth hardly.  
Socrates being one day demanded which was the most sure and certain thing of this life: answered thus. There is nothing more certain in this life, then to account all things uncertain he hath: nor among riches any greater, then to have life and health: But if the life be doubtful and unquiet, what surety or certainty may be found in it? Surely none. King Agesilaus being requested of certain of his Grecian captains, to go see the olympiad in mount Olympus, where all the Philosophers did assemble to dispute, and where all the rich men of the country came to buy and sell any thing, he answered them. If in mount Olympus they sold and exchanged sorrow for mirth, sickness for health, honour for infamy, and life for death, I would not only go to see it, but I would also spend all that I am worth, and that I have: But since the bier is mortal, and the thing also he buyeth condemned to death, I will buy nothing in this life, since I cannot carry it with me into my grave. Yet is there an other deceit which the poor courtiers falleth into daily, and that is: that in living many years, they think and assuredly believe in th'end to light of a time, when they hope to have ease and rest, which is a mockry to think it, and an extreme madness to hope for it. For if their years grow by ounce and ounce, their sorrows and troubles increase by pounds. Who can deny, but that milk that is kept many days doth corrupt and becometh sharp and sour? Yea the garments that are now very old, and have been long worn, (without that ever moth did touch it) doth in the end also become rags and dust. By this therefore I do infer, that if it be a most certain thing for young men to die quickly, much more should old men be assured that they have no long time to live. And there are many in the court of Princes also, that find themselves so laden with sins and wickedness, that they think assuredly, that in changing their age, time, and fortune, they shall not only leave their vices, but shallbe discharged also of many grieves and troubles. Which we see afterwards happen contrary to them. For there is no way so plain in this world, but there is some ascent or descent for us to go up to the top, or some river for us to pass over, or some terrible mountain to fear, or some crooked ill favoured way to lose us in, or some cave or hole to fall into. Those also that think certainly that the sun cannot lose his light, nor that the moon can be Eclipsed, nor that the stars may be darkened, and that the earth shall not cease to bring forth, the seas to flow, the water to run, the fire to burn, and winter to be cold, let them also be assured, that man cannot be excused to suffer and abide much. For sure it is impossible he should pass one day without some trouble or sinister hap of Fortune. And the greatest trumpery and deceit that courtiers for the most part are abused in, is, that the more they wax in years, the more they enter daily into greater affairs and business: with a vain hope and assurance they have to dispatch them, and bring them to such end, as they list or desire. But afterwards when they come to look into their matters, it is the will of god, and their deserts do procure it, that the poor old men find (when they think to go home to their houses) that they see death approach near them, and they afterwards are carried to be buried in their graves.  
O how many are there in court that become aged men, by long serving in court, with a vain hope afterwards in their age to departed from the court, and to repose their aged years in their own houses, in quiet and tranquillity, which abuseth them very much: So that they may be called Christians in name, and thoughts, but right worldlings and courtiers in doings. And therefore many times I reproved divers old courtiers my friends, for that they did not leave the court when they might have left it, with honour, and commodity: telling them it was more than time now they should departed from the court, since age had stolen upon them. Which cooled not tell how to answer me, nor what to say, more than that they would within a short time go home to their houses, with deliberation and intent to take their ease at home, for the better health of their persons, which they had not till then: and so to seclude them from all doings, save only in the morning when he riseth, to go to the church and serve god, and from thence to go to the hospitals, to visit the sick and diseased, to seek out the poor orphans and widows amongst his neighbours, to make peace between neighbour and neighbour, and to relieve the poor. And albeit they have told me this tale many a time and oft, yet I never saw any of them put it in execution with good will. And I saw once an honourable and rich courtier, that was so old, that for very age he had never a black hear on his head, nor any teeth in his mouth, neither any children, sons, or daughters to inherit his goods, who notwithstanding was of so foolish and fantastical opinion (brought to that madness by his sins) that he swore to me, that for discharge of his conscience only he would never leave or give up his office he had in court, to change that servile trade of life for quiet rest at home. Thinking assuredly, that enjoying rest at home in his own house, he might easily be damned, and abiding the pains and service of court, he believed undoubtedly he should be saved. Surely we may aptly say, that this old courtier was more than a dotard, and that he had marred the call of his conscience, since he believed it was a charge of conscience to departed the court.  
The ambition to do much, & the covetousness to have much, maketh the miserable courtiers believe that they have yet time enough to live, & to repent them when they will. So that in the court, thinking to live two years only in their age good men, they live fifty and three score years wicked & naughty persons. Plutarch in his Apothegms saith, that Eudonius, that was Captain of the Greeks, seeing Xenocrates reading one day in the university of Athens, he being not of th'age of eyghty five years, asked what that old man was: & it was answered him, that it was one of the philosophers of Greece, who followed virtue and searched to know wherein true philosophy consisted. Whereupon he answered. If Xenocrates the philosopher tell me, that he being now eyghty five years old, goeth to seek virtue in this age, I would thou shooldest also tell me what time he should have left him to be virtuous. And he said more over, in those years that this philosopher is of, it were more reason we should see him do virtuous things, than at this age to go and seek it. Truly we may say the very like of our new courtier, that Eudonius said of Xenocrates the philosopher, the which if he did look for other three score years, or three score years and ten to be good, what time should remain for him to prove and show that goodness. It is no marvel at all, that the old courtiers forget their native country and bringing up, their fathers that begat them, their friends that showed them favour, & the servants that served them: but at that that I do not only wonder at them, but also it giveth me cause to suspect them, is, that I see they forget themselves. So that they never know nor consider that they have to do, till they come afterwards to be, that they would not be. If the courtiers, which in princes courts have been rich, noble, & in authority, would counsel with me, or at least believe my writing, they should departed from thence in time, to have a long time to consider before of death, lest death unwares & suddenly came to take execution of their lives. O happy & thrice happy may we call the esteemed courtier, whom god hath geeven so much wit & knowledge to, that of himself he do departed from the court, before fortune hath once touched him which dishonour, or laid her cruel hands upon him. For I never saw courtier but in the end did complain of the court, & of their ill life that they lead in court. And yet did I never know any person that would leave it for any scruple of conscience he had to remain there, but peradventure if any did departed from the court, it was for some of these respects or altogether, that is to say. Either that his favour & credit diminished, or that his money failed him, or that some hath done him displeasure in the court, or that he was driven from the court, or that he was denied favour, or that his side & faction he held with, had a fall, or for that he was sick, to get his health, he went into the country. So that they may say he rather went angry & displeased with himself, than he did to lament his sins. If you ask privately every courtier, you shall find none but will say he is discontented with the court, either because he is poor, or afflicted, envy or ill willed, or out of favour, & he will swear & reswere again that he desireth nothing more in the world, then to be dismissed of this courtier's travel & painful life. But if afterwards perchance a little wind of favour be put stirring in the entry of his chamberdore, it wilsodeinly blow away all the good & former thoughts from his mind. And yet that, that makes me wonder more at these unconstant courtiers & unstable brains, is, that I see many build goodly stately houses in their country, & yet they neither dwell in them, nor keep hospitality there. They graff & set trees, plant fruits, & make good gardens, and ortchyards and yet never go to enjoy them: they puchase great lands and possessions, and never go to see them. And they have offices and dignities geeven them in their countries, but they never go to exercise them. There they have their friends and parents, and yet they never go to talk with them. So that they had rather be slaves and drudges in the court, than lords and rulers in their own country. We may justly say that many courtiers are poor in riches, strangers in their own houses, and pilgrims in their own country, and banished from all their kindreds. So that if we see the most part of these courtiers, bakbyte, murmur, complain, and abhor these vices they see daily committed in court. I dare assure you that this discontentation & dyslyking proceeds not only of these vices and errors they see committed, as of the spite and envy they have daily, to see their enemies grow in favour and credit with the prince. For they pass little of the vices of court, so they may be in favour as others are. Plutarch in his book de exilio showeth, that there was a law amongst the Thebans, that after a man was thirty years of age, if he fell sick, he should not be helped with physicians. For they say that after a man is once arrived to that age, he should desire to live no longer, but rather to hast to his journeys end. By these examples we may know that infancy is till seven. years. Childhood to xiiii years: youth, to xxv. years: manhood till xl and age, to three score years. But once passed three score, me think it is rather time to make clean the nets and to content themselves with the fish they have till now, then to go about to put their nets in order again to fish any more. I grant that in the court of princes all may be saved, and yet no man can deny me, but that in princes courts there are more occasions to be damned then saved. For as Cato the Censor saith, the apt occasions bring men a desire to do ill, though they be good of themselves. And although some do take upon them and determine to lead a godly and holy life, or that they show themselves great hypocrites, yet am I assured notwithstanding that they cannot keep their tongue from murmuring, nor their heart from envying. And the cause hereof proceedeth, for that there are very few that follow the court long, but only to enter into credit, and afterwards to wax rich, and grow in great authority. Which cannot be without hearing a little secret hate and envy against those, that do pass them in this favour and authority, and without suspect and fear of others, which in this are their equals & companions. It were a good counsel for those that have lived in the court of princes till they be grown old & grey headed, that they should determine & live the rest of their years as good christians, & not to pass them as courtiers, so that though they have given the world the meal, yet they should in th'end give the bran to jesus Christ. I know every man desireth to live in princes courtz, & yet they promise they will not die in court. And since it is so, me thinks it is a great folly & presumption for such men to desire to live long in such state, where they would not die for all the gold in the world. I have lived in court many years, & at this present I have forsaken it quite: wherefore I dare boldly say, that if once a man come to enjoy a quiet life and reposed rest, I am assured he would for ever hate and dislike to be a courtier longer. But alas, like as these senseless courtiers remember not the life to come, but only account of their vain & courtly life present, reputing that the most blessed and happy of any other: So god seeing their folly and fond addicted mind to the vanity of court, to plague them with all, and scourge them with their own rod, doth grant them no other nor better rest, then that they only enjoy in prince's court, and so feeds them with their own humour. And therefore it is truly said. That rest & contentation never entereth into a sinner's house. O you worthy and noble courtiers, O you beloved, and favoured courtiers, I will remember you, yea and again remember you, that you presume not to cut or pull of the wings of time, since you neither shall have time nor mean to pluck one feather from him: much less the least knowledge how to do it. And therefore it is said. Ill cutteth the knife if the edge be broken: and ill can he gnaw bones that lacketh his teeth. And if it seem good unto you and me also, that to day it is time to gather the fruit of the vine of our youth, let us go now again to seek it about by the means of our amendment. And if the pipe or cask wherein we should put our wine be fusty, with the malignity and perverseness of our wicked doings: Let us season them with new and better wine of good and holy desires. And now to conclude if to sequester themselves from court, it be a wholesome counsel for courtiers: much more wholesome and necessary it is for such as bear sway and reputation about the prince. For other courtiers daily live in hope to enlarge their countenance, and credit, & to grow into favour and authority: but these darlings, and belyked of princes, are continually afraid to fall, and utterly to be put out of favour.   

¶ Of the continency of favoured courtiers, and how they ought to shun the company & conversation of unhonest women, and to be careful quickly to dispatch all such as sue unto them. Cap. xvii.  
Titus' Livius and Plutarch writeth, that the Romans had in such veneration those men that lived chaste, and those women also that professed virgins life, that they erected statures of them in the senate house, carrying them through the city in triumphant chariots, recommending themselves to their devout prayers, and giving them great gifts and presents: and finally adored them as gods. And this was their reason in that they honoured them as gods: for that they being of flesh, & living in flesh, did leave to use the works and instinct of the flesh: which they held a thing more divine than human, Filostratus saith, that Appolonius Thianeus was borne without any pain or grief to his mother in all her travel. And that the gods spoke to him in his ear, that he raised the dead to life, healed the sick, knew the thoughts of men, divined of things to come, how he was served with princes, honoured of the people, and followed of all the philosophers: & yet they did not make so great a wonder of all these things spoken of him, as they did for that he was never married, and more over never detected with the knowledge of any woman living, much less suspected. Whilst Carthage was environed with siege one each side, a virgin of Numidia taken prisoner, was presented to Scipio, and she was very fair: which Scipio notwithstanding would not only not deflower, but set her at liberty, and married her very honourably. Which act of his was more apprized of the roman writers, than was his conquest of Numidia, the restoring of Rome her liberty, the destruction of Charthage, the succour and relief geeven to Asia, and the enobling of his common wealth. For in all these enterprises, he still fought against others: but in the effects of the flesh, he fought against himself. And therefore he must needs be marvelous wise and of good judgement, that can subdue the desires and motions of the flesh. For we do as much covet to follow these carnal desires, as we are apt to our meat when we are a hungered. Cruel and bitter are the assauts of the flesh to the spirit, and wonderful is the pain the spirit abideth, to resist the motions of the same, which by no means can be overcome, but by eschewing the occasions thereof. As in bridling the desires, punishing the flesh, living with spare diet, increasing learning, geeving himself to tears, and all together shutting the gates of our desires. O, if this vice of the flesh came of abundance of heat, or rage of blood, we might soon remedy it with letting ourselves blood. If it were by any sickness of the heart, it should be cured by interior medicines: If of the liver, we would refresh it with ointments. If of melancony humour, we would wash away all the oppilations. If of cholex, we would procure esy purges. But alas it is a disease so far from pity, that it misliketh we should call for physicians, and cannot abide we should offer it any remedy. It cannot be denied but that civil war is most grievous and dangerous in a common wealth: But much more perilous is that at home beetwixt the husband and the wife: but most ieoperdious of all is, that a man hath with himself. For we cannot reckon any other our enemy, but our own desires. I remember I saw once written in a courtier's house these words, which truly deserved to be written in golden letters: and the words were these.  The dreadful wars, that I alas sustain against myself, perforce myself doth strain where blind desire, becomes my mighty so the wreckful gods, vouch save it do not so. 
Surely he that wrote this for his word, me think he was no fool, nor evil christian, sith he neither sought for money, nor by slight of wit procured to deceive or beguile, neither he called his friends to help him to withstand his enemies, but only craved remedy, against his unhonest and vain desires. And undoubtedly he had reason. For a man may easily absent himself from his enemies, but to fly from himself, it is an impossible thing. And therefore me thinks it is a thing more to be lamented then written, to see that a multitude of corporal enemies, cannot vanquish and overcome us: and yet notwithstanding when we are alone, and think nothing of it, this only vice of the flesh doth not alone make us stumble, but fall down rite on the ground. For neither to become religious a priest, a friar, nor to dwell in churches, nor to be shut up in cloisters, to sequester ourselves from the world, nor to change state and condition: For all this I say, I see none of all these things help us mortal men, to defend us from this vice and sin, But the further we seek to fly from it, the more danger we find to fall in to it. And albeit to avoid other vices and sins it shall suffice us to be admonished: yet against that alone of the flesh, it behoveth us to be armed. For there is no sin in the world but that there are means for men to avoid it: this only excepted of the flesh, where with all we are overcome, and taken prisoners. And to prove this true it is apparent, thus. Where raineth pride, but amongst the potentates, where envy, but amongst equals? anger, but amongst the impatient? gluttony, but amongst gourmen: avarice, but amongst the rich? sloth, but amongst the idle? And yet for all these the sin of the flesh generally reigneth in all men. And therefore, for not resisting this abominable vice, we have seen Kings lose their Kingdoms, noblemen their lands, and possessions: the married wives their avowed faith: the religion nuns, their professed virginity: so that we may compare this sin, to the nature and condition of the venomus serpent, which being alive stings us, and after he is dead, offendeth us with his noisome stink. Examples by David, who for all his wisdom could not prevail against that sin: nor Solomon, for all his great knowledge: nor Absalon for all his divine beauty: nor Samson, with his mighty force: which notwithstanding the great fame they had for their renowned virtues: yet through this only defect they lost all, accompaniing with harlots & licentious women. Into which shameful fellowship fell also, Holofernes, Annibal, Ptholomeus, Pyrrhus, julius Cesar, Augustus, Marcus Antonius, Severus, and Theodotius, & many other great princes, with these above recited: the most part of the which we have seen deprived of their crowns, and afterwards themselves have come (to their utter shame & dishonour) on their knees to yield themselves to the mercy of these their infamed lovers, craving pardon & forgiveness. Many grave writers of the Grecians say, that the imbassadors of Lydia coming one day into the chamber of Hercules, upon a sod in to speak with him, they found him lying in his courtesans lap, she pulling his rings of on his fingers, he dressed on his head with her womenly attier: & she in exchange on hers beedect with his royal crown. They writ also of Denis the Syracusan, that albeit of nature he was more cruel than the wild beast, yet he became in the end so tractable, & pleasant, by the means of a courtesan his friend called Mirta, that she only did confirm all the provisions, & depeches, of the affairs of the weal public, & he only did but ordain and appoint them. And if the histories written of the Goths deceive us not, we find that Antenaricus the famous king of the Goths, after he had triumphed of Italy, & that he had made himself lord of all Europe, he became so far in love with a lover of his called Pincia● that whilst she combo his head, he made clean her slippers. Also Themistocles, the most famous captain of the Greeks, was so enamoured of a woman he had taken in the wars of Epirus, that she being afterwards very sick: when she purged herself, he would also be purged with her: if she were let blood, he would also be let blood: & yet that that is worst to be liked is, that he washed his face with that blood that came out of her arm, so that they might truly say, though she were his prisoner, yet he was also her slave & subject. When King Demetrius had taken Rhodes, there was brought to him a fair gentlewoman of the city, which he made his friend in love, & this love beetwixt them by time grew so great, that she showing her selue upon a time to be angry with Demetrius, & refusing to sit near him at the table, & also to lie with him: Demetrius utterly forgetting himself, & royal estate, did not only on his knees pray her to pardon him, but also embracing her, conveyed her in his arms into his chamber. Myronides the Grecian, albeit he had made subject to him the Kingdom of Boetia, yet was he notwithstanding made subject with the love of Numidia his lover. He inflamed thus with love of her, & she like wise stricken with covetous desire of his goods, in fine they agreed, that he should give her all the spoil he had won in the wars of Boetia: & that she should let him lie with her in her house, only one night. Annibal made wars seventeen years with the romans, & in all that time he was never vanquished, till that he was overcome with the love of a young maiden in the City of Capua, which proved a most bitter love to him, sith thereby it happened, that where as he had so many years kept in subjection all Italy, he now was made a subject at home in his own country. Plutarch in his book De republica writeth, that Phalaris the tyrant would never grant a man any thing he desired, neither ever denied any thing that a dissolute woman requested. No small, but great disorder happened to the common weal of Rome, by the occasion of the Emperor Calligula, who gave but 6000. sexterces only to repair the walls of Rome: & gave otherwise for surring one gown alone of his lemons, a 10000 sexterces. By all these examples above recited, we may easily understand, how dangerous a thing it is for the courtier, to have friendship & acquaintance with women of so vild a faculty. For the woman is of like quality, that a knot tied of cords is: which is easily tied of sundry knots, and very hardly afterwards to be undone again. Heretofore we have beesought courtiers, & the favoured of princes, that they should not be so liberal in commanding: & now once again we pray them to be ware of fornication & adultery, for albeit this sin of the flesh be not the greatest in fault, yet is it the most dangerous in fame. There is no King, prelate, nor knight in this world so vicious, and dishonest of life, but would be glad to have honest, virtuous, & well conditioned servants, so that it is impossible therefore for the favoured courtier (living dishonestly) to continue any long time in favour with his prince. For we have seen many in princes courts, & common weals also, that have lost their honour, favour, & riches, not for any pride they showed in themselves, nor for Enui that they had, nor for any treasure nor riches that they rob, nor for any evil words that they should speak, neither for any treason that they committed: but only through the evil fame that went of them for haunting the company of naughty women. For women be of the right nature of hedgehogges, which without seeing or knowing what they have in their heart, do notwithstanding draw blood of us with their pricks. And let not any man deceive himself, hoping that if he do commit a fault through the flesh that it shallbe kept from the prince's ears, or that it shall not be blazed abroad in the court. For this sin is of such a quality, that though it may be hidden within curtains, yet it cannot be kept silent with tongues. How wise and sly so ever a woman be, yet at all times when she giveth ear unto men's requests, even at that present she resolveth to impart the whole with some friend of hers. For these women do glory more, to be the friend of a courtier: then to be a true wife unto their husbands. I have myself seen in princes courts many women, very humble, courteous, pitiful, patient, charitable, wise, devout, & otherwise marvelous honest, & yet amongst all these I never found any one secret. And therefore that a man will have published to the world, let him hardly tell it a woman in great secret. I marvel how it should come to pass, that we see daily women carry upon their heads a forest of hears, a coif, a hood, gimmeus hanging at their ears, partless upon their shoulders, smocks on their bodies, petticoats, gowns, kertels, hose, cloaks, bardingales, hats, cheyns, bracelets, rings, plumes of feathers in their hands, & many other trinkets not named, all which they carry lightly upon them & think it no burden: and yet they cannot abide in no case to keep or carry one secret in their breast. Alas what pity is it to see these affected courtiers, what means they use to win a ladies favour, what pleasant purposes & discourse they put forth unto them, what bitter sighs they let fall, what service they offer them, what jewels they give them, what castles in the air they promise them, what sorrows they fain, and what lies they make them believe: & these silly women (by nature proud, & foolish) are which a few gifts overcome, and with a few flattering words beguiled. Now let this courtier & his lady continue this mutual friendship between them, one, two, three, four, or five years, though perhaps not fully these years complete neither many months also, & you shall see in the end undoubtedly a marvelous breach, & hate beetwixt them. For this amorous courtier, that so dearly seemed to love his lady, will now make court a fresh to others, & dislike that heretofore he loved, and fly from her whom erst he followed, abhorring that he, once delighted in, misliking the taste of those meats that once were sweet & pleasant to him: and cannot abide her face now, whose Image before he had engraved in his mind. So if he before had spent three years' service in making her his mistress, he spendeth now six other years in the forgetting of her. And therefore these noble courtiers, & beloved of princes, must beware they make not these young and dishonest loves common in every place. For the sweet & fragrant rose which they seek to gather, continueth scantly one hour: but the pricks & plagues of the piercing thorn, resteth hidden in their flesh, their whole life time after. A man erreth in nothing more in this world, then in taking to his charge a dishonest woman. For if he will bring her with him to the court, she shall shame him, put him to an unreasonable charge, beside the burden of his conscience. And if afterwards he would put her away from him, she will not departed for any thing: & if he would compel her to it, ere she depart it willbe all the court over: so what things have passed betwixt them two alone in secret, shall afterwards be known of every man abroad. And therefore we have not causeless told you, that it must needs be a marvelous expense to the courtier, to bring his lover with him to the court. For he must always be at the charges to keep a page, maid or gentle woman to weight upon her. He must content the hostess of his house to lodge her secretly, please the marshal to seem not to know of it, the harbinger that he prepare him a good lodging, the page that he be diligent, & at her hand: & herself also must have to live with all, so that the expense & charge he shall be at with her, must needs far exceed all the benefits and commodity he hath by court. Beesids that he may assure himself, that this their lewd and fond love cannot long endure, neither can care also of herself be kept secret. For either his hosts that lodged her, or the bawd that procureth their meeting, or the page that bringeth commendations & messages beetwixt them, or the neighbours that seeth him frequent the house, or the servant that shall suspect him, or the mother that sold her to him, in the end will beewray their secret practice & friendship. Whereof springeth afterwards disdain, & from disdain, to defame each other: so that of extreme lovers they were first, they afterwards become mortal enemies. And therefore the wivel is not so hurtful to the corn, nor the locust to the oats, nor the worms to the vines, nor maggots to the fruit, nor the moth to the garments, as the woman is to a man, that once was his friend, & now become his enemy. For like as in time of her love, she rob & spoiled him of all his goods: so likewise in the time of her hatred, she devoureth all his good fame & reputation. But what shall we say of that man that contenteth not himself with one friend alone, but like an unsatiable lecher taketh upon him to keep an other. Truly I cannot tell what to say of this man, but that it had been better for him he had never been borne, them to have kept company with such vile & common women. For he shall never appease the first neither with anger, nor flattery: nor humble her with presents nor can expel her hate with promises, neither please her with cherishing of her & much less shall overcome her with threats. The Ocean sea is not so dangerous, nor the sword of the tyrant so cruel, neither lightening so sudden, nor earthquakes so horrible, & fearful, nor serpents so venymus as a harlot: when she doth but suspect her friend loveth another beside herself, for she ceaseth not to defane him, & to follow the other, to raise a slander amongst her neighbours, to complain to his friends, to bewray the matter to the justice, to quarrel with officers & always to have spies for him in every place, as if he were one of her mortal enemies. O I would to god the courtier would as much esteem of his consciens, as his lover maketh account of his parson: happy were he. For I dare assure him if he know it not, that she spieth out all the places he goth so, & count's every morsel of meat he eateth, & becometh jealous of all that he doth, & of all those whose company he frequenteth, yea she deviseth & imagineth all that he thinketh. So that he that seeketh a cruel revenge of his enemy, cannot do better than persuade & induce him to love one of these well conditioned women. Now let him think that he hath great wars, that by his evil hap hath made her his enemy, which heretofore he so entirely loved. For any man that exteemeth his honour, & reputation, doth rather fear the evil tongue of such a woman, then the sword of his enemy. For an honest man to strive, & contend with a woman of such quality, is even as much, as if he would take upon him, to wash an asses head. Therefore he may not set me to make account of those injuries done him, or evil words she hath spoken of him, but rather seek to remedy it the best he can, that she speak no more of him. For women naturally desire to enjoy that person they love, without let or interruption of any, & to pursue to the death those they hate. I would wish therefore the favoured of princes, & such as have office & dignity in the court, that they beware they incur not into such like errors. For it is not sitting that men of honour, & such as are great about the prince should seem to have more liberty in vice than any other, neither for any respect ought the beloved of the prince to dare to keep company, much less to have friendship with any such common & defamed women, sith the least evil that can come to them, they cannot be avoided. But at the lest he must charge his consciens, trouble his friends, waste his goods, consume his person, & lose his good fame, joining with all these also, his concubine to be his mortal enemy. For there is no woman living that hath any measure in loving, neither end in hating. Oh how wareli ought all men to live, & specially we that are in the court of princes, for many women (under the colour of their authority & office) go oft times to seek them in their chambers, not only as humble suitors, to sollycyte their causes, but also liberaly to offer them their persons, & so by that colour to conclude their practices & devices. So that the decision & conclusion of process which they fain to solycite, shall not go with him that demands there goods of them, but rather with him that desires but their parsons to spoil them of their honour. Now the princes officers must seek to be pure, & clean from all these practices of these common strumpets, much more from those that are suitors to them & have matters before them. For they should highly offend god, & commit great treason to the King, if they should send those women from them that sued unto them rather dishonoured & defamed, than honestly dispatched of their business. And therefore he bindeth himself to a marvelous inconvenience, that falleth in love with a woman suitor. For even from that instant he hath received of her the sweet delights of love, even at the present he bindeth himself to dispatch her quickly, & to end all her suits, & not without great grief I speak these words. There are many women that come to the court of princes to make unreasonable & dishonest suits, which in the end notwithstanding obtain their desire: And not for any right or reason they have to it, save only they have obtained that through the favour and credit, they have won of the favoured courtier, or of one of his beloved. So as we see it hap many times, that the unjust fornication, made her suit just & reasonable. I should lie, and do myself wrong me thinks, if I should pass over with silence a thing that happened in the emperor's court touching this matter, in the which I went one day to one of the princes chief officers, & best beloved of him to sollycyte a matter of importance which an hosts of mine should have before him. And so this favoured courtier & great officer, after he had hard of me the whole discourse of the matter, for full resolution of the same, he axed me if she were young & fair: & I answered him that she was reasonable fair & of good favour. Well than saith he bed her come to me, & I will do the best I can to dispatch her matter with speed: for I will assure you of this, that there never came fair woman to my hands, but she had her business quickly dispatched at my hands. I have known also many women in the court so unhonest, that not contented to follow their own matters, would also deal with others affairs, & gain in soliciting their causes, so that they with their fine words & frank offer of there parsons obtained that, which many times to men of honour & great autorytye was denied. Therefore these great officers, & favoured of princes ought to have great respect, not only in the conversation they have with these women, but also in the honest order they ought to observe in hearing their causes. And that to be done in such sort, that what so ever they say unto them may be kept secret, provided also the place where they speak with them, be open for other suitors in like case.   

¶ That the nobles & beloved of princes exceed not in superfluous fare, & that they be not too sumptuous in their meats. A notable chapter for those that use too much delicacy and superfluity. Chap. xviii.  
ONe of the greatest cares and regard the nature laid upon herself, was, that men could not live without sustenance: so that so long as we see a man eat (yea if it were a thousand years) we might be bold to say that he is certainly alive. And he hath not alone laid this burden upon men, but on brute bests also: For we see by experience, that some feedeth on the grass in the fyelds some lives in the air eating flies, others upon the worms in carin, others with that they find under the water. And finally each beast liveth of other, and afterwards the worms feed of us al. And not only reasonable men & brute beasts live by eating, but the trees are nourished thereby, & we see it thus that they in stead of meat, receive into them for nutriture the heat of the sun, the temperature of the air, the moisture of the earth, and dew of heaven. So that the sustenance for men is called meat, and that of plants & trees, Increase. This being true therefore that we have spoken, we must needs confess that to live we must eat: and yet with all, we must understand that the sin of gluttony consisteth not in that that we eat for necessity, but only in that that is eaten with a disordinate appetite and desire. And sure now adays men use not to eat to content nature, but to please their liquorous and dainty mouths. He that giveth himself over to the desire of the throat, doth not only offend his stomach, and distemper his body, but hurteth also his conscience. For all gluttons and drunkards are the children or the brothers of sin. And I speak but little to say that the mouth & sin are cousin germans togethers: for by their effects and operations me thinketh them so knit and combined together, as the father and the son: Sith burning lechery acknowledgeth none other for her mother, but only the insatiable and gurmand throat. And the dyversity of meats is but a continual & importunate awaking of dishonest thoughts. Do we not read of saint Iherom, that albeit he remained in the wilderness, burned of the sun, his face dried up and wrinkled, barefooted, and also bore headed, clothed with sackcloth, his body scourged with bitter stripes, watching in the night, and fasting in the day, continually exercising his pen, and his heart in contemplation, and yet for all this grievous penance, himself confessed, that in his sleep he dreamt and thought he was among the courtesans of Rome. And saint Paul the apostle, who was a man of rare and exquisite knowledge, and deserved to see the very secrets of paradise, never heretofore seen, travailing in his vocation more than any other of the apostles, did not he get his living with his own hands? and also went a soot preaching through all the world, bringing infynit barbarous people to the faith of christ, being beaten in the day time by others, for that he was a christian, and in the night time he beat himself for that he was a sinner, punishing the flesh, to make it subject to the spirit. And yet nevertheless he saith also of himself, that he cooled not defend himself from dishonest thoughts, which did ever let him to preach and pray with a quiet mind. Saint Austin reciteth of himself in his book de confessionibus, that all the while he inhabited in the deserts he eat little, wrote much, prayed oft, and sharply chastised his body, with continual fasts, and grievous disciplines. But yet perceiving that notwithstanding all this his dishonest thoughts suppressed his holy desires, he began to cry with a loud voice through the deserts, & rocky hills, saying. O lord my god, thou commandest me to be chaste, but this frail and accursed flesh can never keep it. And therefore I humbly beseech thee first to endue me with thy grace to do that thou wilt have me, & then command me what shall please thee: otherwise I shall never do it. If therefore these glorious saints with their continual fasts and contemplations, and extreme punishing of their bodies, could not defend themselves from the burning motion of the flesh: how shall we believe that a company of drunkards, and gluttons, can do it, which never lynne bibbing and eating. We may be assured that the less we pamper and feed our bodies with delicacy & idleness, the more we shall have them obedient, and subject to our wills. For though we see the fire never so great & flaming, yet it quickly wasteth, & is brought to ashes, if we leave to put more wood unto it. Excess is not only unlawful for the body but it is also occasion of a thousand diseases, both to the body & the soul. For to say troth, we have seen more rich men die through excess, than poor men of necessity. And in my opinion, me thinks the sin of Gluttony need not to be otherwise punished by divine justice, sith that of it self it bringeth penance enough. And to prove this true, let us but require these gluttons to tell us, upon their oaths, how they find themselves in temper being full paunched: & they will confess to us that they are worse at ease than if they had fasted: That their mouth is dry, their body heavy, & ill disposed, that their head acheth, their stomach is cold, & that their eyes are sleepy, & their bellies full, but yet that they desire to drink still. And therefore Diogenes Cinicus, deriding the Rodians, said these words. O you drunken & gluttonus Rodians, tell me I beseech you, what occasion moves you to go to the church, to pray to the gods to give you health, when at all times, keeping sober diet, you may keep it with you? And more over he said unto than also, & if you willbe ruled by my council, I tell you, you need not go to the churches to beseech the gods to grant you health, but only to pray to them to pardon you your sins & iniquities you daily commit. Also Socrates the philosopher was wont to say to his disciples, of the unyversity of Athens: Remember O you Athenians, that in the well governed policies, men live not to eat, to glut the body: but do only eat, to live & sustain the body. O grave saying of the good philosopher, & I would to god every good christian would carry this lesson in mind. For if we would but let nature alone, & give her liberty & disposition, of herself, she is so honest, & of such temperance, that she will not leave to eat that that shall suffice her, neither will also trouble us with that that is superfluous. Yet an other foul offence bringeth this vice of Gluttony, & that is, that many put themselves in service to wait on others, not somuch for the ordinary fare that is commonly used in their house, as for the desire they have to fill their bellies with dainty and superfluous meats. And in especial when they know they make any marriages, or feasts for their friends, than they give double attendance, not consented alone with that themselves have eaten, but further in remembrance of the worthy feast, committeth to the custody of his trusty cater (his great hose) perhaps a two or three days store of those rare & dainty dishes, which I am ashamed to write, and much more ought they to be ashamed to do it. For that man that professeth to be a man, aught to enforce himself never to engage his liberty for that, that his sensual appetite inciteth him to: but only for that that reason bindeth him to. Aristippus the philosopher, washing lettuce one day with his own hands for his supper, by chance Plautus passing by that way, and seeing him said: If thou would have served King Dionysius, we should not have seen thee eat lettises as thou dost now: Aristippus answered him again, O Plautus, if thou wert content to eat of these lettyses that I eat, thou shouldst not serve so great a tyrant as thou dost. The excess of meats is greater in these days, both in quantity, and in dressing of them, then in times past. For in that golden age, which the philosophers never cease to beewaile, men had no other houses but natural caves in the ground, and appareled only with the leaves of trees, the bare ground for their shoes, their hands serving them in steed of cups to drink in, they drank water for wine, eat to●●●s for bread, and fruits for flesh: and finally for their bed they made the earth, & for their covering the sky, being lodged always at the sign of the star. When the divine Plato returned out of Cicill into Greece, he said one day in his college. I do advertise you my disciples, that I am returned out of Cicill marvelously troubled, and this is by reason of a monster I saw there. And being asked what monster it was, he told them that it was Dionysius the tyrant. who is not contented with one meal a day, but I saw him sup many times in the night. O divine Plato, if thou wert alive as thou art dead, and present with us in this our pestilent age, as thou wert then in that golden time: how many shouldst thou see, that do not only dine and sup well, but before dinner break their fast with delicate meats and wines, and banquet after dinner and supper also before they go to bed. So that we may say, though Plato saw then but one tyrant sup, he might see now every body both dine and sup, and scant one that contenteth him with one meal a day, in which the brute bests are more moderate, than reasonable men. Sith we see that they eat but somuch as satisfieth them: and men are not contented to eat enough, yea till they be full, but more than nature will bear. And brute beasts have not also such diversity of meats as men have, neither servants to wait on them, beds to lie in, wine to drink, houses to put their heads in, money to spend, nor physicians to purge them as men have. And yet for all these commodities, we see men the most part of their time sick. And by these things recited, we may perceive, that there is nothing preserveth so much the health of man as labour, & nothing consumeth sooner than rest. And therefore Plato in his time on spoke a notable sentence, and worthy to be had in mind, and that is this. That in that city where there are many physicians, it must needs follow of necessity that the inhabitants there of, are vicious, & riotous persons. And truly we have good cause to carry this saying away. Sith we see that physicians commonly enter not into poor men's houses, the travel and exerciseth their body daily: but contrarily into the rich and wealthy men's houses, which live continually idly, & at ease. I remember I knew once a gentleman (a kinsman of mine, and my very friend) which having taken physyck, I came to see how he did, supposing he had been sick, and demanding of him the cause of his purgation: he told me he took it not for any sickness he had, but only to make him have a better appetite against he went to the feast, which should be a two or three days after. And with in six days after I returned again to see him, and I found him in his bed very sick, not for that he had fasted too much, but that he had inglutted himself with the variety of meats he eat at the feast. So it happened, that where he purged himself once only to have a better stomach to eat, he needed afterwards a dozen purgations to discharge his laden stomach of that great surfeit he had taken at the feast, with extreme eating: And for the four hours he was at the table where this feast was, he was lodged afterwards in his chamber for two months, to pay usury for that he had taken, & yet it was the great grace of god he escaped with life. For if it be ill to sin, it us far worse to seek and procure occasions to sin. And therefore by consequent, the sin of Gluttony is not only dangerous for the consciens, hurtful to the health of the body, and a displeasing of god: but it is also a worm that eateth, and in fine consumeth wholly the goods, & faculties of him that useth it. Beesyds that, these gurmands receive not so much pleasure in the eating of these dainty morsels, as they do afterwards grief and displeasure, to hear the great accounts of their stewards, of their excessive expensis. It is a sweet delight to be fed daily with dainty dishes, but a sour sauce to those delicate mouths to put his hand so oft to the purse. Which I speak not with out cause, sith that as we feel great pleasure and felicity in those meats that enter into our stomach, so do we afterwards think that they pluck out of our heart that money that payeth for those knacks. I remember I saw written in an Inn in Catalogia these words. You that host here must say, when you sit down to your meat, Salue regina, yea & when you are eating, Vitae dul cedo, yea and when you reckon with the host, Ad te Suspiramus, yea and when you come to pay him, Gementes, & flentes. Now if I would go about to describe by parcels the order and manner of our feasts and banckets, newly invented by our own nation, there would rather appear matter to you, to lament and bewail, then to write. And it had been better (by way of speech) to have invented divers fashions of tables, forms, and stools, to sit on, then such diversity of meats to set upon the tables, as we do use now a days.  
And therefore by good reason did Lycurgus (King of Lacedemonia) ordain & command, that no stranger coming out of a strange country into his, should so hardy bring in any new customs upon pain, that if it were known, he should be straight banished out of the country, and if he did use and practise it, he should be put to death. I will tell you no lie. I saw once served in at a feast xlii. sorts and kinds of meats in several dishes: In an other feast of divers sorts of the fish called Tuny. And in an other feast, being flesh day, I saw divers fishes broiled with lard. And at an other feast where I saw no other meat but trouts, and Lampereiss of divers kinds of dressing. And at an other feast, where I saw only, vi. persons agree togethers to drink each of them iii pottels of wine apiece, with this condition further, that they should be vi hours at the table, and he that drank not out his part, should pay for the whole feast. I saw also an other feast, where they prepared three several tables for the bidden guests, the one board served after the Spanish manner, the other after the Italian, and the third after the fashion of Flaunders: And to every table there was served xxii. sorts of meats. I saw also at an other feast such kinds of meats eaten, as are wont to be seen, but not eaten: as a Horse roasted, a Cat in gely, little Lysars with hot broth, Frogs fried, and divers other sorts of meats which I saw them eat, but I never knew what they wear till they wear eaten. And for god's sake what is he that shall read our writings, and see that that is commonly eaten in feasts now adays, that it will not in manner break his heart, and water his plants. The only spices that have been brought out of Calicut, and the manner of furnishing of our boards brought out of France, hath destroyed our nation utterly. For in the old time, they had no other kinds of spice in Spain, but Saffron, cumin, garlic, and Onions, and when one friend invited an other, they had but a piece of beef, and a piece of veal, & no more: and it was a rare and dainty matter to add to a hen. Oh mis●●appes of worldly creatures, you embrace not now the time that was, for now i● he be an officer, or popular person of any like condition, and that he invite his friend or neighbour, he will not for shame set before him less than vi. or seven. several dishes, though he sell his cloak for hit, or far the worse one whole week after, for that one supper or dinner. Good lord it is a wonder to see what stir there is in that man's house that maketh a dinner or supper. A ii or three days before, you shall see such resort of persons, such, such flying this way, such sending that way, some occupied in telling the cooks how many sorts of meats they will have, other sent out to provide a cater to by their meat, and to higher servants to wait on them, and other poor folks to look to the dressing up of the house: brawling & fighting with their servants, commanding their maids to look to the buttery, to rub the tables and stools, and to see all things set in their order, as sit as may be, and to taste this kind of wine and that kind of wine: so that I would to god they would (for the health of their souls) but employ half this care & pains they take in preparing one dinner, to make clean their conscienses, and to confess themselves to almighty god. I would fain know, after all these great feasts, what there remaineth, more, then as I suppose, the master of the house is troubled, the stewards and cators wearied, the poor cooks broiled in the fire, the house all foul, and yet that that is worst of all, sometimes the master of the feast cometh short of a piece of plate that is stolen. So that he can not choose but be sorry for the great charges he hath been at, beesyds the loss of his plate and vessel stolen, and the rest of his implements of house marred, and in manner spoiled: And peradventure also the invited not satisfied nor contented, but rather will laugh him to scorn for his cost, and murmur at him beehind his back. Marcus Tullius Cicero was once bidden to supper of a covetous Roman, a citizin borne, whose supper agreed with his avarice. So the next day it chanced this covetous citizen to meet with Cicero, & he asked him how he did with his supper, veri well said Cicero, for it was so good a supper, that it shall serve me yet for all this day. Meaning to let him understand by these woodrs, that his supper was so miserable, and he left with such an appetite, as he should dine the next day with a better stomach at home.  

¶ The author continueth his purpose.  
It is now more than time we do bring you apparent proofs (aswell by scriptures, as profane authors) that there was never made feast or banquet but the devil was ever lightly a guest, by whose presence always happeneth some mischief. The first Banquet that ever was made in the world 〈◊〉 that the devil made to Adam and Eve with the fruit of terrestrial paradise: after which followed a disobeying of god's commandment, the less that Adam had of his innocency, and a sudden shame and perpetual reproach to our mother Eve, man's nature presently brought to all sin & vice. So that we may well say they eat the fruit, that set our teeth an edge. Did not Rebecca like wise make a feast to her husband Isaac, in which Esaw lost his heritage, and jacob succeeded in the same blessing Isaac (through fraud) whom he took for Esaw, & all through the counsel of his mother Rebecca, she having her desiere and purpose as she wished. Absalon, did not he make an other to all his breetherns after which followed the death of Aman one of his brothers, and by one of the other brethren their sister Thamar was defamed, and their father King David very sore grieved and afflicted, and all the realm of Israel slandered? King Assuetus made an other of so great and foolish expense, that he kept open house for a hundred and fourscore days, and it followed, that Queen Vasti was deprived of her crown, and the fair Hester invested in her room, many noble men of the city of Hul were murdered and hewn in pieces, by means whereof the Hebrews came into great favour and credit, and Aman, the chief in authority and favour about the prince, deprived of all his lands, and shamefully executed upon the gallows, & Nardocheus placed in his room, and greatly sublimed and exalted. Also the xiiii. children of the holy man job (which were vii sons and so many daughters) being all feasted at their eldest brothers house, before they rose from the board, were they not all slain? Also Baltezar son of King Nabucodonosor made a banquet to all the gentlewomen and his concubines within the city, so sumptuous and rich, that the only vessel he was served withal, and the cups they drank in, were rob out of the temple of jerusalem by his father: and this followed after his great banquet. The self same night the King with all his concubines died suddenly, and his realm taken from him, and put into the hands of his enemies. It had been better for all these I have recited, that they had eaten alone at home, then to have died so sodaninly accompanied. Now let all these gourmands and liquorous mowthed people mark what I shall say to them, and carry it well in mind, and that is this: that the sin of Gluttony is nothing else but a displeasure, great peril, and a marvelous expense. I say that it is a displeasure: for the great care they have continually to seek out diversities of fine and curious meats: great peril, because they plunge their bodies into many diseases: and in unmerciful charge, for the curiosity and numbers of dishes. So that for a little pleasure, & delight, we take in the sweet taste of those dainty meats, being but a satisfaction to the mind for a short time: we afterwards have infinite griefs, and troubles, with a sour sauce, to our no small pain. And therefore aristotel mocking the Epicuriens said, that they upon a time went all into the temple togethers, beseeching the gods they would give them necks as long as the crane's and herens, that the pleasure and taste of the meats should be more long, before it came into the stomach, to take the greater delight of their meat, complaining of nature that she had made their necks to short: affirming that the only pleasure of meats consisted in the swallowing of it down, which they said was to soon. If we saw a man even upon a sudden throw all his goods into the sea or river, would we not imagine he were mad, or a very fool? Yes undoubtedly. Even such a one is he that prodigally spendith all his goods in feasting and banqueting. And that this is true: do we not see manifestly that all these meats that are served to noble men's boards to day, and to morrow conveighid into the privy from the eaters by their page or servant? surely man's stomach is nothing else but a gut or tripe forced with meat, bread, and wine, a pavement filled with wine lees, and a vessel of stinking oil, a recepit of corrupt air, a sink of a kitchen, and a secret place, wherinto we cast all our goods and faculty as into the river. And therefore Esay said, that all these noble cities of Sodom, and Gomorra, by this only curse did incur into such execrable sins, for which afterwards they were destroyed: and this was even through excess of eating, and drinking, and to much idleness: and it is no marvel. For it is an infallible thing, that where idleness and gluttony reigneth, there must needs come some ill end to that man. The Greeks, the Romans, the Egyptians, & the Scythes, although they were detected of many other sins and vices, yet were they always sober & temperate in eating & drinking. justin that wrote of Trogus Pompeius reciteth, that among the Scythes (which were the rudest and most barbarous that came into Asia) used to reprove those that let go wind, & to chastise & punish those that vomited, saying that breaking wind & vomiting, came only of too much eating & drinking. plutarch in his Apothegms said, that there was a philosopher in Athens called Hyppomachus, that was so great an enemy to Gluttony, that he used in his college such & so great an abstinence, that his disciples by that were known amongst all the other philosophers. And not for no other thing, but to see them buy their cates & provision to live with all: for they never bought meats to fat them & keep them lusty, but only to sustain nature, & that but little. The Romans made divers laws in the old time to expel out of their cities drunkards & Gluttons, whereof we will recite some unto you, to th'end that those that shall read our present writings, shall both know, and see what great care our forefathers took to abolish this horrible vice of gluttony. First there was a law in Rome called Fabian law, so called, because Fabian the consul made it, in which it was prohibited that no man should so hardy in the greatest feast he made, spend above a hundred sexterses, which might be in value a hundred pieces of vi pence, salads & all other kinds of fruit not comprised within the same.  
And immediately after that, came out an other law called Messinia, which the consul Messinius made. By which they were also inhibited in all feasts to drink no strange wines, which only were permitted to be geeven to those that were deceased. After which followed also an other law Licinia, made by the consul Licinius, forbidding in all feasts all kinds of sauces, because they incite appetit, & are cause of a great expense. another law Emillia, of Emilius the consul also, commanding the Romans should be served in their banquets but only with five sorts of diversities of meats, because in them there should be sufficient for honest refection, & no superfluity to fill the belly. And then was there the law Ancia made by Ancius the consul, charging all the Romans to endeavour to learn all kind of sciences, except cookry. For according to their saying, in that house where there was a cook, those of the house became poor quickly, their bodies diseased, their minds vicious, and altogeether geeven to Gluttony. After this law there came forth an other called julia, of julius Cesar, commanding all Romans, that none should be so hardy to shut their gates when they were at dinner, and it was to this end, that the censors of the city might have easy access into their houses at meal time, to see if their ordinary were respondent to their ability. And there was also an other law made afterwards called Aristimia, of Aristmius the consul, by which it was enacted that it should be lawful for every man to invite his friends to dinner to him at noon, as they liked, provided that they supped not together that night. And this was established thus, to cut of the great charge they were at with their suppers: For the romans exceeded in superfluity of dainty & fine meats, and more over they sat to long gulling & eating at their suppers. Of all these laws heretofore recited, were authors Aulus Gelius, and Macrobius. And for this was Caius Gracchus well reputed of, of the Romays, who not withstanding he had been consul indyvers provinces (and that many times) & was a man of great gravity & authority in Rome, yet he would never keep cook in his house, but when he was at Rome, his wife was his only cook: & traveling, his hostess of his house where he lay dressed his meat. Marcus Mantius in times past, made a book of divers ways how to dress meat, and an other of the tastes, sauces, & divers manners of serving of them in at the banquets, and a third book how to cover the table, set the stools in order, order the cubberd, & also how servants should wait & give their attendance at the table: which three books were no sooner imprinted and published, but presently & publicly they were burned by the senate of Rome, and if his author had not quickly voided Rome, & fled into Asia, he had accompanied his books in the fire. The ancient writers never seized to reprove enough Lentulus, Cesar, Scylla, Scevola, and Emilius: For a banquet they made in a garden of Rome, where they eat no other meats but black birds, torteises, mallard, nettles, pigs brains, and hares in sauce. But if the Roman writers wrote in these days. I do not believe they would reprove so simple a banquet made by so noble & famous persons as they were. For now a days they do so far exceed in variety of dishes at noble men's bourds, that neither they have appetite to eat, nor yet they can tell the names of the dishes. But now returning to our purpose, I say the intent why we have laid before you these forepast examples, was only to this end, to admonish the favoured of princes to look into themselves that they avoid this filthy sin of gluttony, Being a foul blot in a courtier, to be counted a greedy gut, & Carmarant at his meat, & being one, whose manners & behaviour every man marketh. For sure it is more sitting for than to be moderate & sober, in eating & drinking than others, & good reason why. For as they are more noble than others, so have they many that sue unto them, & they have also the weightiest matters of government, passing under their charge: by reason where of if they surcharge themselves with excess, they are then very unapt to dispatch any matters: for much eating causeth sleep, & much drinking depriveth them of their judgement, & senses both. Is it not to be wondered at, yea & to be reproved also, to see a magistrate or counsellor set in his chair to here poor men's causes & suits, & the suitor opening his cause unto him, he sitteth nodding with his head in his bosom ready to sleep? Even so do I say like wise, that it is a great reproach to the beloved of the prince, & great damage to the common wealth, that it should be spoken amongst courtiers & suitors, that to day he was of this opinion, & to morrow he is of an other. So that the courtier or suitor should have hope to dispatch that to morrow, he cooled not do to day. King Philip, father of Alexander the great, although he was a prince, noble & fortunate, yet was he noted & rebuked for drinking of wine, whereof followed that after he had given judgement upon a time against a poor widow woman, she answered straight she appealed. The noble men that were present, hearing what was said by the king, asked her to whom she would appeal, since the king in person gave sentence of her, & no other: And this was her answer she made them. I appeal to king Philip which is now drunk: that when he is sober, he return to give sentence. And as the historiographers say, that writeth this history, this poor woman was not deceived in her appellation at all: for after King Philip had reposed & slept a little, he revoked & repealed that sentence that he had before geeven against her. And therefore concerning this matter, I say, that how wild or tame so ever a beast be, he still continueth a beast in his kind, only man except, who very oft through too much excess of meat and drink, strayeth so far from reason, forgetting himself, that neither he himself, nor any other knoweth well, whether he be then a man, or a beast. Those that are the favoured of princes must be very circumspect, that they be not too sumptuous, & prodigal, in their feasts & banquets, for that they have many eyes attendant of them. And some will say, that they make not these great feasts of themselves, but by the gifts & presents of others: others will not stick to say that they make it with that they have rob of others. I wish them in this case that they should not hope to excuse themselves by saying that they only feast their kinsfolks, & familiar friends. For the envy that commonly one beareth against the power & authority of a man, is so great, & extreme, that it spareth not friends, remembreth not kinsfolks, neither maketh account of the benefits received: but rather as soon as the bidden guests are departed from his house that bade them, they go talking among themselves, & murmuring amongst others, saying many times that it is more worth, that is lost by the vain & lavish expenses of the favoured courtier: then that that is commonly served to the princes own board. Also I counsel the belyked of princes, that they take heed whom they trust, & whom they invite to their tables. For many times if they be but four that are bidden, one of them sure goeth to eat & banquet, & the other three to fleer, & mock, & to mark all that is brought in, & the manner of the service. And the worst is yet, that he shall many times bring such to eat with him, that would more willingly eat his flesh, than his meat. These reputed courtiers must be well advised, that though they be too delicate & superfluous in their meats, yet at least that they bridle their tongues. For they may be assured, that as their guests they bade go full paunched from them, so carry they away with them, all the superfluous & vain words they hard at the table. Besides that, that what so ever the courtier said at the board, reporting it otherwhere, they will not say that he spoke it of himself, but that the king himself told it him. And yet is there a far greater danger & peril then this we have spoken of, and that is: that they will not simply tell that they hard of the beloved courtier, but will add to it of their own heads, what they think best, & what was his meaning in speaking of it. So that we may say, that there are not so many comments upon the bible, as they make gloss upon the same reports (by their rash judgements and fond interpretations) which they did descant, upon one only word spoken unwares perhaps, by some at the table of this favoured courtier. It is a general custom, amongst all estates & conditions of people: that where there are sumptuous tables, and abundance of dishes, there the invited sit long at their meat, & are liberal to speak evil. Which sure such as are in favour with the prince, neither aught to do, nor suffer it to be done by others at his board. For the good and honourable feast, ought only to be served, with good and dainty meats: but in no wise marred with the defaming of his neighbour. O how many feasts & banquets are made in princes courts, where without all comparison there are more detractions used of their neighbours, than there are diversities of dishes to eat. A pernicious thing doubtless, and not to be suffered nor abidden: For no man hurteth the reputation of an other with his tongue, but with the self same he condemneth his own conscience: and therefore let men be advised of their speech, and what they speak of others. For it is always an easy matter to detract and hinder the fame and reputation of a man, but very hard afterwards to satisfy the party. Therefore I council, & admonish these courtiers, that they do not oft feast others: but also that they do not accept to go to others tables where they are bidden.  
For they may be assured, that they are beloved of few, and hated of all: and besides that it might so happen, that others should be at the charge of the feast, and that they should lose their lives. Also let not the favoured courtier trust those to much, that come ordinarily to his table, & that do rebydd him again to theirs, yea though they seem even to be wholly his to dispose, and possible as it were his right hand, & that they be those whom he happily too hath done much for, in dispatching their affairs. For lightly in such like feasts, treasons & poisonings are not practised with the master of the feast, but only with him that waiteth at the table to give drink, or else by the cooks that dresseth the meat. Also let not the courtier trust too much those whom he hath been in company with all at divers feasts (where he never had hurt) much less knew any little occasion to suspect ill of them, touching any tresomment towards him. For so at a time when he suspecteth least, he may be in most danger, & find himself deceived. And therefore by my council he shall not easily be entreated to every man's board, unless he be first well assured of the company that are bidden as also of the servants that wait. For the holes & spaces of the french riddles (with which they dust their corn) sometimes is even stopped with the very grains of the same corn, and letteth the clear passage of all the rest. One of the greatest troubles (or to term it better) one of the greatest dangers I see the favoured courtiers in, is this: that all the courtiers, and in manner all the citizens, desire to see them out of favour, or dead, by some means. For every man is of this mind, that with the change of things, by his fall or death he hopeth he shall rise, to some better state, or happily to catch some part of his offices, or livings. another mischief & inconvenience yet happeneth to this favoured courtier, by haunting others tables, & that is: that many times it chanceth, unseemly & unhonest words are let fall at the table, & perhaps quarrel rise upon it, which though he be present, yet he can neither remedy, nor appease it. And because these things were done & spoken in the presence of the esteemed of the prince, he that spoke them hath credit, and those that hard it descried it. Yet is there an other disorder that cometh by these feasts, that is, that he that maketh the feast, and biddeth guests, doth it not for that they are of his acquaintance, his kinsfolks, or his faithful friends, nor for that he is bound and beholding to them, but only to obtain his desire in his suits that he hath in hand: for they are few that seek to pleasure men, but in hope to be greatly recompensed.  
Therefore those that are in favour & authority about the prince, & that accept others bidding, sure one of these two things must happen to them. Either that he must dispatch his business that inviteth him, yea although it be unreasonable, & so unjust & damnable, that obtaining it, both he & the favoured courtier go to the devil togeethers for company, for the wrong & injury they have done to an other: or on the other side refusing to do it, the bydder is stricken dead, & repenteth his cost bestowed upon him. Above all things, I chief admonish the courtiers, and officers of princes, not to sell change, nor engage their liberties as they do, the same day that they begin to follow such feasts, or to receive gifts or presents, or to lynk themselves in straight friendship with any, or to deal partially in any cause. For by these foresaid occasions, they shall oft bind themselves to do that that shall not be fit for them, besides the loss of their liberty they had before, to do that was most honest, and commendable.    

¶ That the favoured of princes ought not to be dishonest of their tongues, nor envious of their words. Cap. nineteen.  
ANaxagoras the philosopher, disputing one day of the cause why nature had placed the members of man's body in such order as they are, and of the property and complexion of every one of them, and to what end they had been so orderly placed by nature, each member in his place: falling in the end to treat of the tongue, said thus of it. You must understand my good disciples, that not without art &  mystery nature gave us two. feet, two. hands ii ears, & two. eyes, & yet for all this but one tongue, whereby she showed us, the in our going, feeling, smelling, hearing, and seeing, we may be as long as we will: but in speaking we should be as sparing, & scant, as cooled be: alleging further that not without great reason also nature suffered us to go open & bare faced, the eyes, the ears, the hands, the feet, & other parts of the body bore also, except the tongue, which she hath environed with laws, & enured with teeth, and also shut with lips: which she did, to give us to understand, that there is nothing in this present life that hath more need of guard, & defence, then hath this our unbridled tongue. And therefore said Pithachus the philosopher, that a man's tongue is made, like the iron point of a lance, can but yet that it was more dangerous than that: For the point of the lance can but hurt the flesh: but the tongue pierceth the heart. And truly it was a true saying of this philosopher. For I know not that man how virtuous or patient so ever he be, but thinks it less hurt, the bloody sword should pierce his flesh, then that he should be touched in honour, with the venomous point of the serpentyen tongue. For how cruel so ever the wound be, time doth heal it, & maketh it well again: but defame or infamy, neither late nor never can be amended. We see men refuse to go by water for fear of drowning: not to come too near the fire, for fear of burning: not to go to the wars, for fear of killing: to eat no ill meats, for being sick: to climb up a high, for fear of falling: to go in the dark, for fear of stumbling: to avoid the ill air, & rain, for fear of rheums: and yet I see very few, or none, that can beware of detractors, & ill tongues. And that this is true I tell you, I do not think that in any thing a man is in such peril and danger, as when he liveth accompanied with men dishonest in their doings, and vile and nought in their tongues. I have also read touching this matter, that Aformius the philosopher, being asked what he meant to go the most part of his time amongst the desert mountains, in hazard every hour to be devoured of wild beasts, answered thus. Wild beasts have no other weapons to hurt me, but their horns & nails, & their teeth to devour me: but men never cease to hurt, and offend me, with all their whole members. And that this is true, behold I pray you how they look at me with their eyes, spurn me with their feet, torment me with their hands, hate me with their heart, and defame me with their tongue. So that we have great reason to say, that a man liveth with more security, amongst wild beasts: then among malignant and envious people. plutarch in his book De exilio saith, that the Lydians had a law, that as they sent the condemned murderers to row in the galleys, so they confined those that were detractors, and ill tongued men, into a secret place (far of from all company) the space of half a year. Inso much as many times these lewd mates chose rather to row in the galley three years, then to be exempt from company, and speaking with any, but six months. Much like unto this law did Tiberius the emperor make an other, and condemned a great talker and railer of his tongue, and commanded straightly that he should never speak word, the space of a whole year. And as the history saith, he remained dumb, & never spoke during the whole term: but yet that he did (with his domnes) more hurt with nods, & signs with his fingers: then many other would have done with their ill tongues. By these two examples we may see, that sith these naughty tongues are not to be repressed by silence, in secret, nor to entreat them as friends, nor by doing them good, nor by sending them to galleys, nor to make them hold their peace, and to be as dumb men: by my advice, I would have them banished (by general counsel) out of all colleges, counsels, chapters, towns and common wealths. For we see daily by experience, that let an apple have never so little a bruise, that bruise is enough to ●ott him quickly, if he be not eaten in tyme. Demosthenes the philosopher was of great authority for his person, grave in manners, & condition, & very sententious, & profound in his words: but with these he was so obstinate, & wilful, & such a talker in all his matters, that all Greece quaked for fear of him. Whereupon all the Athenians one day assembled in their hall, or common house, & there they appointed him a great stipend of the goods of the common wealth, telling him that they gave him this, not that he should read, but because he should hold his peace. Also this great and renowned Cicero, that was so valiant & politic in martial affairs, so great a friend to the common weal of Rome, & more over a prince of eloquence for the latin tongue: though he was cruelly put to death by Mark Antony, it was not for any fact committed against him, neither for any wrong or injury he had done him, save only for that he envied against him, and spoke evil of him. Also the noble poet Sallust, and famous orator of Rome, was not hated of strangers, and not beloved of his own neighbours for no other cause, but for that he never took pen in hand to write, but he ever wrote against the one, & never opened his mouth to speak, but he always spoke evil of the other. plutarch touching this mai●er reciteth in his books de republica that amongst them of Lydia, in their public weal it was holden an inviolate law, that they should not put a murderer to death for killing of any, but that they should only execute, & put him to torture, that would defame his neighbour, or in any one word seem to touch him in honour or estimation. So that those barbarous nation thought it more execrable so defame a man, then to kill & murder him. And therefore I say, he that burneth my house, beats my person, & robbeth me of my goods, must needs do me great damage: but he that taketh upon him to touch my honour and reputation with infamy, I will say he offendeth me much, & that so greatly, as he may well stand in fear of his life: For there is not so little an offence ●oon to a man of stout courage, but he carrieth it ever after imprinted in his heart, till he have revenged the villainy done him, even so in princes courts there the more quarrels, & debates, through evil tongues, & dishonest reports, than there doth for any play or shrewd turns that are done. I know not what reason they have to strike of his hand, the first draweth sword, & favoureth & leaveth him unpunished, that draweth blood with his ill tongue. O what a happy good turn were it for the common weal, if (as they have in all towns & well governed policies penal laws prohibiting to wear or carry weapon) they had like laws also to punish detractive & wicked tongues. Surely there can be none so great a blot or vice in a noble man, knight, or gentleman of honest behaviour & countenance, as to be counted & reputed a tatler of his tongue, & there withal a detractor of others. But let not such deceive themselves, thinking that for their countenance or estates sake they be privileged above others, at their wills and pleasure to enlarge their tongues on whom they list in such manner, but that their inferiors far, will as liberally speak of them, yea and as much to their reproach, as they before had done of them: reputing as much of their honesty and credit for their calling (being inequivalent in estate or degree to them) as they do of their dignity & reputation. At that time when I was a courtier, and lived in prince's court, there died out of the court a worthy knight, who at his noble funerals was recommended of us all, and praised in his life to be a noble, valiant, worthy, and wise man, and a good and devout christian, & chiefly above all his noble & heroical virtues, he was only landed and renowned, for that they never heard him speak ill of any man. So one of the company that was present, hearing this great praise of him, took upon him to say this of him. If he never spoke ill of any, than did he never know what pleasure those have that speak ill of their enemies. Which words when we hard, though we passed them over with silence, yet was there none but was greatly offended at them, and good cause why. For to say truly, the first degree of malignity is, for a man to take a felicity in speaking ill of his neighbour. King Darius being at dinner one day, there were put forth of the weighters and standers by, certain arguments of the acts and doings of Alexander the great: in which dispute, one Mignus (a Captain of the king, and greatly in favour with him) was very earnest against Alexander, & went too far in speech of him. But Darius perceiving him thus passioned said to him: O Mignus hold thy tongue, for I do not bring thee into the wars with me that thou shouldst infame Alexander, (and touch his honour with thy tongue, but that thou shouldst with thy sword overcome him, By these examples, we may gather, how much we ought to hate detraction, & ill speaking, sins we see that the very enemies themselves can not abide, to here their enemies ill spoken of in their presence: and this is always observed of the honourable, grave, and wise men that are of noble minds. For sure each noble heart dysdaigneth to be revenged of his enemy with his tongue, for his injures done him: if he cannot be revenged on him with his sword. It is sitting for all in generally to be modest, and honest in their speech, but much more it is dew for him that embraceth the favour and credit of his prince. For it is his profession to do good, to help every man and to speak ill of no man. They have such Sentinels of spies upon them continually (which are officers in court and about the prince) to mark what they speak and do, that treading once awry (how little so ever it be) it is strait blown into the prince's ears, and they perhaps accused of that that they never thought, delyghting and taking great pleasure to tell openly what they heard them say. Such therefore as are daily courtiers, attending upon the prince, and infavor with him, must (if they mean to continue that favour and credit) be gentle, and courteous in their words, and bountiful to those that stand in need of them. Also the esteemed courtier must beware he do not only speak ill of no man, but also that he be not too great a talker. For commonly these great talkers beside that they are not esteemed, be also reputed of small judgement, and of simple counsel. Pythias, that was the great governor, and Duke of the Athenian nation, was a noble prince, beloved and feared, hardy and valiant, and yet in the end as saith Plutark, the abundance of words, obscured the glory of his heroical deeds. Although these great talkers, and men too full of words, be of noble birth or worship, wealthy in possessions, and otherwise of authority and estimation, yet nevertheless all that time they spend in speaking too much, others that here them, occupy the same in deriding & scorning of them. I beseech you what greater reproach could a courtier have, then to be called a babbler a prater of his tongue, and a liar? For when he thynks every man is attentive, and listening to him, it is quite contrary: for even at that instant do they laugh him to scorn, and yet this is nothing to the shame they do him afterwards. For those that talk to him, whilst he is thus babbling, pots at him with their mouths behind his back, nod with their heads, holds down their eyes, and soothes him in all that he says, and all this not to praise or commend him: but to be meery afterwards at the matter, when they are togethers. And it is a sport to note, and here one of this great talkers, if any man talk of war, of the liberal sciences, of hunting, or of husbandry, he will strait leap into the matter, although he be utterly ignorant in the thing preponed, taking upon him to reason of the matter, as if he were very skilful, or master of the faculty, And to make the hearers believe that, that is true he sayeth he bringeth in an example, saying that he hath seen it, read it, or hard it, and all perhaps a stark lie, that he neither saw it, read it, nor hard it of any, but only devised of his own head, on a sudden, under the colour of troth to make a false lie. Acaticus the philosopher, being one day at a feast, where he neither spoke, nor offered once to speak: asked after dinner what was the occasion of his silence, answered them thus. It is better for a man to know his time when to speak, than it is to know to speak. For to speak well, is given us by nature: but to choose time to speak, proceedeth of wisdom. Epimenides the painter, after he had dwelled long time in Asia, returned to Rhodes from whence he first departed, & because none of the Rhodians ever heard him speak any thing, either of that he had seen, or done in Asia, they marveled very much, and prayed him to discourse unto them some part of that he had seen, and suffered in Asia. To whom he made this answer. Two years I sulked the seas, abiding the peril of the water, and ten other years I was resient in Asia, to learn the perfection of a painters ark: six other years I studied in Grece to accustom myself to be silent, and now you would I should feed you with tales and news. O Rhodians, come to me no more with any such motion: for you should come to my house to buy pictures, and not to here news. Albeit in so many years and in such far and strange countries it could not be but Epimenides had seen many things worthy to be recounted, and pleasant to here: yet he would never tell them nor show them: & sure herein he did like a good philosopher, and answered like a wise and grave person. For in telling of strange things, and of divers countries, there are few that will believe them, and many that will stand in doubt whether they be true or no. And therefore touching this matter also, Pythagoras the philosopher was one day asked upon what occasion he made his scholars use so great silence in his college, that in two years after they were entered, they might not speak. He answered thus. In other philosopher's schools they teach their disciples to speak, but in mine there is taught nothing but to hold their peace. For in the whole world there is no better nor higher philosophy, then to know to bridal the tongue. It is a marvelous thing to see a man, that with time his beard and hears of his head become all white, his face withered, his ears deaf, his legs swollen, his breath stynk, his spleen stopped, and his body faint and feeble with age, and all the parts thereof consumed, save only the heart, and tongue, which we never see wax old in manner, how aged or impotent so ever he be, but rather daily become green: and that that is worst of all is, that what evil the wretched heart thinketh in that crooked and miserable age, that doth the accursed tongue with all celerity utter. There is a company of courtiers in the court, that presume to be eloquent, and well spoken, & of courtly enterteignement, which when they will talk of some pleasant matter, they must first tell you a lie, and surely these kind of courtiers we may better call them detractors of others, then civil enterteigners. Accursed be he that to the prejudice of his neighbour, maketh profession to be a courtly interteigner, and you shall hardly see none of these recited courtiers jest of any, but they have in secret spun the thread, to weave a great cloth of malice. And yet we do these men great honour & reverence, not for any good will we bear them, but for that we are afraid of their ill tongues. And although to dissemble otherwile, it is a grave & wise man's part, yet for all that we may not judge ill of them, since we see the best man's honour & credit commonly to be no greater nor less, than a malignant person shall seem to use his tongue to speak of him. I remember there was in the court in my time a noble man, noble of birth and person both, whom I reproved divers times (as his familiar friend) of his prodigal living, and ill speaking. And he made me this answer▪ Truly sir, those that report that I speak ill of them, it is themselves that do it of me: & if I follow them therein, it is for nothing else, but to be a witness for them, if any seek to impugn their sayings: but sure of myself I never uttered, or devised word, that might be to the prejudice of any. O what ill causeth he, that speaketh ill of an other, he only offendeth not that beginneth, but he that assisteth him, & much more he that heareth him, & after publisheth it: but above all he that telleth it abroad, & addeth more than he hard. The favoured of princes must also think, that though they are prohibited to speak much, yet it is most fit and decent for them to be true & faithful secretaries. For there is no thing the prince prizeth more, than the secret breast of his favoured courtier. And therefore I say not without cause that they ought to be secret, but most secret. For the esteemed courtier must have a better consideration of his prince's secrets committed to him, than of the benefits he receiveth of him. Sure it is no small, but a great & most necessary virtue in a man, to be close, & of few words, & so secret in deed, that he make no more countenance of that was told him privily, then if he had never hard it spoken of. I know an other manner of people so prone ro speak ill, that they cannot keep secret their own faults, much less others faults, publishing them in every corner. Cecilius Metellus being asked one day of a Centution, what he meant to do the next day following: answered thus. Think not Centurion that those things I am determined to do, my hands shall so lightly discover: for I am of this mind, if I knew that my shirt had any knowledge of that I will do to morrow, I would put it of, & throw it strait in the fire & see it burned before my face. It is not a like trust, to put money into one man's hands of trust, & to commit secrets to the breast of an other, & this to be true we see it plainly, that the prince delivereth his goods and treasure to the custody of many, but his secrets he committeth only to one. The favoured of princes ought to be so secret, that what so ever they see the prince do or say (be it in the presence of gardeners, and that they are told of it by many) Yet they ought not to be acknown of it. For in deed the prince speaketh many things commonly for his pleasure, which being reported again of the favoured courtier, willbe thought true, & most certain. Therefore speaking generally of this matter I say, that surely friends are greatly bound to keep the secrets of their friends: For that day I discover my intent to any, the self same I make him lord of my liberty. Therefore let that man think he hath won a marvelous treasure, that hath a secret friend. For without doubt it is no such matter of importance, to keep treasure saflye locked up in a chest, as it is to commit & trust secrets to the heart of an other. Plutark writeth, that the Athenians having wars with king Philip because there came certain letters of king Phillips to their hands (intercepted, by their scouts) directed and sent unto his wife Olimpa: Which they no sooner understood, but they presently returned again safely sealed, and untouched of them, as they came first unto them saying: that sith by their law they were bound to be secret, they would not reveal the secrets of others, notwithstanding they were their mortal enemies, as king Philip was to them: & therefore they would neither see them, nor read them openly. Diodorus Siculus sayeth also, that among the Egyptians it was a criminal act for any man, to bewray the secrets of an other, which was proved true by th'example of a priest, that in the temple of the goddess Isis had deflowered a virgin, & they both trusting to the fidelity of an other priest, making their love known unto him, even as they were in Venus sweet delights, he not regarding any longer their secrets, in ipso facto exclaimed & cried out, & thereupon convict & apprehended by the justice, these poor lovers were miserably executed, & this spiteful & unfortunate priest condignly banished. And this banished priest complaining of thinjust sentence, saying, that that he revealed, was in favour of the religion, & for the behoof of the common wealth, the judge answered him thus. If thou hadst known their offence of thyself, without their notice geeven thee, thou hadst had reason to have complained of our sentence, but since they trusted thee with their doings, & thou gavest them thy word & promise to be secret, if thou hadst called to mind the bond thou were bound to them in, & that thyself did freely without their compulsion submit thyself unto, thou would not once have dared to have published the fact as thou hast done. Plutark in his book de exilio saith, that a man of Athens once demanded an Egyptian (disciple of a philosopher) what he had under his cloak, answered him thus. Truly thou hast studied little, & born away less, although thou art an Athenian born, sith thou seest that I carry secretly that thou demandest, because thou nor no other should know it, & yet thou askest it of myself, what it is that I carry. Anasillus that was a captain of the Athenians, was taken of the Lacedæmonians, & put to the torture, because he should tell that he knew, & what the king Agesilaus his Land master did, to whom he gave this answer. You Lacedæmonians have liberty to dismember me, & hew me in pieces: but so have not I to reveal my lord & masters secrets. For in Athens we use rather to die, then to be wray the secrets of our friend. King Lysimachus, entreated the philosopher Philipides very earnestly, that he would come & dwell with him: but he made them this answer. I would be very glad to be in your company, knowing you to be a favourer of philosophy: & if you will go to the wars I will follow you: & if you trust me with your goods, I will keep them carefully, & faithfully: if you have children, I will teach them with all my heart: if you will use my counsel in your affairs, I will give you the best I can. And if you will also give me the charge of your common wealth. I will govern it with my best discretion. Only one thing I will request you that you will never command me, that is, not to make me partaker of your secrets. For it might happen that what you had told me in secret, yourself unwares at a time might tell it openly, and yet not think of it: and being afterwards told you by some other, you would presently enter into suspect that it came to knowledge by me. This philosopher would first indent with the prince (before he would come to his service) that he should never here any of these things, the knowledge whereof bringeth many a man to their end, or at the least to some great mischief: only to show us the imminent peril and danger the secretary of a prince standeth in. For our heart is such a friend of news, that every hour it feeleth a thousaund temptations to utter that to others, that was delivered to it of secret. In this our age we do not use to keep secrets so well, as in old time the Grecians were wont, sith we see by experience, that if one friend have to day told his friend a thing in secret, to morrow, yea perhaps the self same night before, it was told amongst the neighbours.  
There are also some kind of men so desirous to here news, that to know it, they will swear a thousand oaths never to reveal in again to any. But so soon as they know it, they are like unto the blood hounds, that follow the dear now here now there smelling with their noses, till they have found the hurt dear, than they open, and bay for their master. Therefore I counsel, & exhort all wise & discreet men, that they do not accompany with those whom they know are not secret. For the hurt that cometh by them, consisteth not only to tell that they know, see, and here: but with this they tell that they have imagined of their own wicked & malicious heads. It cannot be otherwise, but being men, we are also subject to the frailty of a man, as for example. To fall sometimes into the sin of the flesh, & in that to forget the sin of gluttony, & to have small consideration of that of sloth, to be assured in that of avarice or with that to be overcome with passion and rage, or to be puffed up in the sin of pride. And if perhaps by misfortune any one chance into such man's company, that hath but part, or all these conditions, and such one as do discover and disclose both his own secrets and others to, what other can there be hoped of, than a fire inflamed in his good fame and reputation, and a contagious plague and pestilence in his house. For that that I have hard, seen, & read, yea and also proved, I say and affirm, that there is no bread so il spent, as that that is geeven to the servants which open and reveal their masters secrets: And sure it may be said, that such are not servants that serve them, but traitors that betray them, and sell their masters liberty. And it is of such importance, for the favoured of princes, to keep secret, and not to reveal any part of the prince's secrets, that every man must think, that when the prince telleth them any thing in secret, he telleth it not alone unto them, but rather he confesseth it to them. Prince's being men (as in deed they are) and much busied with the cares of the common wealth, it cannot be, but when they are withdrawn a part into their privy chamber, they will both play, talk, sleyt, sigh, laugh, be angry, threaten, & make, much again of some before others: All which things though they do before their servants in secret, it is not their pleasure, neither will they like, it should be told abroad amongst their subjects. And sure they have great reason, for men of gravyty & authority, do not lose their reputation for doing things grave, and of good example: but they are justly noted, when publicly they will show any lightness or folly, how little so ever it be. Not only those that be in authority and favour about the prince but such other officers of the court, & servants of household of the prince also, ought not to tell nor reveal any thing they see their prince do. For they may be well assured, that the prince willbe more offended and displeased, to have that he doth in his privy chamber told abroad, by those of the privy chamber, or other whom it pleaseth him to make familiar with him: then he would be, if his treasurers & receivers should rob him of his treasure. It was told to Denis the Syracusan on a time, that Plato the philosopher was at the chamber door to speak with him: and he presently sent Bias one of his privy chamber (that he loved well) to him, to know what he would with the king, and Plato asked Bias what Denis did, & he answered that he lay stark naked upon a table, which when Denis understood, he was so offended with Bias, that he commanded forthwith he should be beheaded, saying first these words unto him. I will that like a traitor that be beheaded, sith thou hast traitorously betrayed me, pnsuming to disclose the secrets of my chamber. For I sent thee not to Plato to tell him what I did, but to know what he would of me. Now prince's familiars & beloved of them, as they must be very circumspect & heedeful that they tell no man the princes secrets, so they must be much careful that they tell it not chiefly to women, yea though they were their own wives. For as women are very good & profitable, to look to things of household, & safely to lock up their husband's goods: so are they on the other side very dangerous for a man to commit any secrets to them. For notwithstanding a woman know, that in reveling the secrets of her husband, she putteth her life in peril, the honour of her husband, the loss of her children, the reputation of her house & kindred, & peradventure the peace & tranquillity of the common weal: yet had she rather die, than she should not utter that she knoweth. And many times for no other respect, but to make these women believe that heareth her, that she only commandeth her husband & all beside in her house. Well, I will enlarge myself no further of this matter, for if I would but give my pen leave to write that I know, I should find lime & sand enough to build a tower as high as Babylon. But to end my purpose, I will speak this one word, & that is, that I counsel & exhort, & with all my heart request prince's familiars, or servants, that they commit not their prince's secrets to any, how great a friend or near kinsman so ever he be to them. For they may be assured, that since they refuse to keep secret that the prince commandeth them, that much less their friend will keep it secret for any request they make to him. If thou can not keep that secret, that to open it, importeth the loss of thy favour & credit, & happily thy life also: how canst thou think an other will do it, that in telling it, winneth both honour & credit.   

¶ A commendation of troth, which professed courtiers ought to embrace, & in no respect to be found defective in the contrary, telling one thing for an other. Cap. xx.  
EPimenides the philosopher, being requested of the Rhodians to tell them what that virtue was they called verity, he answered them thus. Verity my friends, is a thing which the gods above all other profess, & her virtue is such, that it warmeth the heavens, lighteth the earth, maintayns justice, & governeth the common weal, & suffereth no ill thing in her, making plain & clear all doubtful & hidden things. The Corinthians asked the like question also of Chilo the philosopher, what verity was, who answered that it was a perdurable pillar, never diminishing, nor decresing: a buckler or shield impassable, a fair time that is never troubled, an army that never perisheth, a flower that never withereth, a sea that never feareth fortune, & a sure haven where never was shipwrak. Anaxarchus the philosopher, was also demanded of the Lacedæmonians, what verity was, who answered that it was a health without sickness, a life without end, a iuleppe & syrup that healeth all, a sun that never darkeneth, a moon without eclipse, an herb that never drieth, a gate that is never shut, & a way that never wearieth man. The like was asked of Eschines the philosopher touching verity by the Rhodians. And he said, that it was a virtue without which all force was weakened, justice corrupted, humility feigned & dissembled, patience insupportable, chastity vain, liberty lost, & pity superfluous. The like was also demanded of Pharmacus the philosopher by the Romans. And his answer was, that verity was a true centre wherein all things reposed, a card to sail by, to direct the pilot & mariners, a wisdom to hele & recure every man, & a present remedy for all evils, a height in the top whereof every man resteth, & a bright light to lighten the whole world. And surely this maketh me think that these philosophers were great friends & lovers of verity, sins they did so much enrich, and sublime the same, with so many rare and excellent titles. But omitting now these philosophers, who have truly spoken that they knew: let us come speak of him, that above all the world hath exalted verity, which was the divine word, and that was Jesus' Christ, the only begotten son of god, and true glass of eternity, who being asked the self same thing of pilate, said not to him, I am wisdom, neither justice, nor chastity, nor paciens, humility, nor charity: But only said to him, I am verity, to let him understand, that every creature might be partaker of that verity. But our lord Jesus' Christ, was not partaker of that verity: but the sole & only possesser of the same, he being the very truth itself. O, of how many is this virtue desired, & of how few (yea most few) observed. For in effect it is nothing else, but a mark whereat all good men shoot with their eyes, & all ill & wicked persons lose their sight. The emperor Augustus in the triumph he made of Mark Antony, & his love Cleopatra, amongst others brought to Rome an Egyptian priest, of 60. years of age, & the senate being informed of a surety that days of his life he never told lie, they agreed not only to restore him to liberty but to make him high priest of their temple, and to erect a stature of him, among the noble and princely parsons of Rome. Sparthianus writeth, that in the time of Claudian Emperor of Rome, there deceased a citizen of Rome called Pamphilus, whose doings after his death examined, it was manifestly proved, that he never spoke one true word all his life time, but always lied in that he said. Which related unto the Emperor, he commanded his body should not be buried, his goods should be confiscate, and his house razed to the foundation, and his wife and children for ever banished Rome and all her territories, to the end there should remain no memory to the common wealth, of so pestiferous and venomous a beast. At that time when these two things thus happened, the romans and Egyptians were mortal enemies, and therefore by these examples we may see, of what force and power this virtue of verity is, sith the romans made a stature to their enemy, only for that he was a true and just man: and deprived of sepulture their native child, and a roman born, for that he was a liar. A true man may go in any place where he lysteth, freely without interruption, accompanied with all men not fearing to be accused of any, and may with safety reprove the vicious and ill persons: and finally to conclude, he may without the fear of any speak in the face of the world, and show his face amongst the best. If a man will choose a friend, he need not be inquisitive if he be wise, just, chaste, careful, courageous, or noble, but only if he be true of his word. And if that be so, it followeth that all virtues and honesty must abound in him. Helius Sparthianus reciteth of the life of trajan the Emperor, that being one night at supper, and accompanied with noble men at his board, they argued of the fydelyty of friends, and infydelity of enemies, whom trajan answered: That he never had friend in his life but he was good, true, honest, and faithful: whereupon his lords besought him that it would please him to tell them the occasion of his good hap in this. And he answered thus. The cause why I have ever been so fortunate herein was this, I never would choose to my friend a liar, and covetous man. For in him that reigneth avarice, and lying, there can never dwell perfit friendship. Those that are honest, & like so to be reputed, must endeavour themselves to speak well always, and ever to say that that is true: and if they will not do this for consciens sake, let them do it yet to avoid the shame that followeth them. For there can be no greater mockery or despite done to a man, then openly to make him know he hath lied. We see the child when he perceiveth he hath told a lie, he blusheth strait, & is ashamed: much more ought men grown of years, whose face is covered with hears, not only blush, but shame to tell a lie. Many times I think what a great grief the merchant suffereth every hour not to be counted a liar, when he uttereth his ware, & sure he doth it but because he would not lose his credit. And lo here why they swear commonly by the faith of a merchant to be more assured, where to the contrary we see many other, that in appearance seem to be honest and grave men, that use not that manner: but rather they will stick no more to tell you a lie, then to lose a wheat grain. But here I speak not, neither do mean to touch those that are in deed virtuous and good men: but I speak of those that thinks themselves honest, and yet be not god knoweth. And therefore we may be ascertained, that a merchant esteemeth more his goods and merchandise, than a liar doth his honour, otherwise honesty. There is nothing that preiudiceth troth so much, as a tattling tongue that never lieth: being in manner impossible, that amongst many words some lie be not interlaced. All things consisteth not in other more, or less, save only in the use that men have of it. For if a man do use to eat little, he always goeth from the table: if we use to sleep little, we also leave our bed: And if we accustom ourselves also to lie, we shall have it in such a continual use, as though we would we shall never leave it after. For there are divers sorts of men, that as they accustom themselves to eat & drink oft times in a day, so do they use to lie every hour. But I ask what is the greatest & most perfect thing in this life, that a man whilst he liveth may enjoy. I dare boldly say, that it is neither nobility, great parentage, nor favour, neither the great estate, health, nor riches: but rather that it is the sole honour, which tattler and liars may never enjoy, because they are never credited, nor believed in their words. What fame, credit, honour, reputation, or good can he have, out of whose mouth there cometh nothing but lies? A liar deserveth credit of no man, neither that any man should deal with him in any thing, much less commit any matter of trust into his hands, no nor love him, nor accept of him, but rather as detractor, & defamer of men's good name, we should banish him our company. Hannibal that was the mighty prince of the Carthagians, so valiant in warlike prows, so hardy to follow it, & therewithal so fortunate to overcome his enemies: was yet notwithstanding blamed of Titus Livius, and reputed for a malignant and perjured person. For he never gave that he promised to his friends, neither ever kept any covenant or agreement made with his enemies. Such was not Gneus Pompeius (son to Pompeie the great) with whom Octavian and Mark Antony (both, his mortal enemies) being at supper with him on the sea: Menodorus the captain of his army sent him word, if it were his pleasure, he would so lively have hoist up the sails of the ship, that he would soon have perished them, or sunked the ship they were in. To which message Pompeie gave this answer. Thou shalt tell Menodorus my captain, that if I were Menodorus as he is, that never knew what trothment, I would have followed his advice, & have done that he sendeth to me for: but if he were Pompeius as I am, which keeps my word and promise with all men, such a thought and treason would never have occupied his head. Words sure worthy of so noble a prince, son of so great and worthy a father. Herodotus writeth also, that when the Egyptians would make any new amity betwixt themselves, or be in league, and confederate themselves with strangers, they used to bind their thombs hard to the thombs of those with whom they would join in friendship, and then with an instrument pricked every one of their thombs that the blood spurted out, which they sucked the one the other with their tongue: inferring thereby, that they would rather shed their whole blood, then in one jot to falsify & break that friendship promised between them. Is it not a goodly thing to hear him that sweareth by the mass, of mine honesty, so god catch me, by my good sooth, by cock & pie, & other like nice oaths, only under simplicity thereof to make you believe a lie he will tell you, which in deed we should lest than believe, when he is most ruff in his oaths. For it is most certain, the more a liar enforceth his words with abundance of oaths, the less he is to be believed. For that is a plain demonstration, that it is a prepensed lie he would make us believe for a truth. It is a sport to see a true man, & a liar in argument together: for the true man enforceth his words none otherwise but thus. Truly friend, it is even thus as I tell thee, thou mayst if thou wilt believe me. And the other to defend & maintain his lie, he will invocate for witness all the saints in heaven, & as many relics as are on the earth, yea & all the devils of hell: so that for defence of the truth, it sufficeth to stand fast on his feet: but for defence of a lie, he must run through the whole world. If I were a king or prince, to throw the beloved out of favour, to put my men out of service, to deprive men of their office & dignity, or to disgrade a knight of his order of knighthood, or to give no more faith nor credit to an other: I would desire no better occasion or testimony, than once to take him with a lie. And I would think it less ill, that the fathers should rather pardon a great fault in their children, the friend in his friend, & the master in his servant, them to bear with them in one lie. For by time the wings of sin is cut: but to lie is of such condition, the elder a man waxeth, the more force & power it hath of him. It is not enough for a man to be free of this vice, but he must also fly & sequester himself from the fellowship of those, that are possessed with that foul & inveterate error. For it is commonly seen, when a man would bring out a sudden lie, to give it more credit, he will avouch his friend for a witness, saying he knoweth it, & was present with me. Now those that heareth this famous lie, & knoweth the very troth in deed of the matter as it was, condemneth his friend he avoucheth (although he be innocent in the matter) for that he is brought in for testimony, as they do this notorious and shameless liar. I should lie also for compagny, if I should deny to tell you, that, being in the court upon a time in a good presence, a friend of mine stuck not to forge a lie amongst others, and said that he had sailed in a ship made all of the canes of Cinnamon, and he avouched me for a witness, affirming that I was likewise with him in his company in the ship: and I to save his honour (he being my very friend) being ashamed he should incur the name of a liar, was compelled seriously to confyrm his tale with him, whereof I repented me after with all my heart. For thereby I was in secret noted of the hearers, to be as great a liar as he. Also an other time when I went to preach at the court, being diseased of the gout, I walked up & down with a staff of a reed to stay me with all, the self same person I told you of before, told amongst the prelate's that were in the chapel where I preached, that he had geeven me a reed or cane to walk withal, that from one knobb to an other, it would hold three great pots of wine. Lo now by my example you may gather what shame and dishonesty an honest and virtuous man sustaineth, to be a friend and companion of so shameless and horrible a liar. For to be plain, I was brought to this pass, by means of this friend of mine, that I cooled not tell what I should do, but when I heard him begin to speak, to fly from him, and leave him, because I would not be reputed a like of reputation with him. Howbeit in th'end I was forced to use this policy: that what he had openly avouched me a witness in, secretly again I would excuse myself, and deny it. But now returning to our matter again, I say: That these courtiers, and familiars of princes, aught to exile and banish from them this abominable crime of lying.  
For if a mean gentleman or simple plebeian happen some times to tell one thing for an other, it is but taken of the hearers straight for a simple . But being spoken by one of the favoured of the court, or other gentleman of reputation, it is thought a kind of treason. For like as betwixt god, and the sinner, our saviour Jesus' Christ is our only mean and mediator, being called upon by the priest, even so betwixt the king and his subjects, that are suitors to his majesty: those that are in favour with the prince, are mediators for them. Now therefore, if these priests be double in their words, and dissemblers in that they speak, how shall the sins of the one be pardoned, and the business of the other dispatched. O woeful and unhappy sinner, that putteth his sins into the hands of a naughty and wicked priest, and like wise unfortunate and miserable is the poor suitor, that committeth his affairs to the trust and dispatch of a lying and dissembling officer. There are many officers in Princes courts, that telleth the poor suitors still they will dispatch them, but when it cometh to the push to follow the matter, all his fair words are then but wind, and in deed they make an art of it, to speak all men fair, to promise much, and to perform nothing, weaning with their sweet flattering words to win the hearts and good wills of all, little regarding the great expense and loss of time of the poor suitor, much less also respecting their own honour, honesties, and credit. Sure it were less dishonour for them, to be counted rough and churlish, then to be bruited for liars, and breakers of their promise. The officer of the prince's palace, that is a dissembler, and liar in his words & doings, he may for a time maintain his suits, and go through with his matters: but in the end, his treacheries perceived, himself, his fautor, and all his dealing lie in the dust, and are utterly overthrown. O how many have I seen rise in court of nothing, to great matters and offices, and this not through their painful service, but altogeethers by means of their deceit & flattery they cunningly used: not exalted also for their merits, but only by a subtle mean & policy they had to draw water to their mill: not for any good conscience they had, but only for their great diligence used in their practices. And all this not without the prejudice of others, but rather to the great hurt & utter undoing of their neighbour: & not for any bounty they had to give liberally, but a greedy & covetous desire to get: not for any needful business, but to have those that are superfluous: & not for to relive the poor & needy, but only to satisfy their insatiable apetits: & infyne, their account cast, we have seen after their death their goods confiscated, their servants dysꝑsed, & gone away, & their children for ever undone. So that in brief there was no more memory of them in this world, & god grant also that in the other life their souls were not damned. Courtier's may easily with their favour and credit attain to great possessions, as the judges may also in robbing, the counsellors in pleading, and maintaining naughty causes, the captains in powling the prince of the soldiers wages, the merchants in their false weights & measures, & their brokers, in telling lies out of all measure. But in th'end of their journey, & pilgrimage, they may be assured that the souls of the fathers shall not only be damned in hell, but the goods also shallbe taken from their children. And that that is truly and justly gotten by the honest industry & travel of the man, with a good zeal & holy intent, & to a good & just end: it is written that it shallbe of long continuance, & by the permission of god, & prayer of the people, it shall also prosper, & increase. For the true gotten goods, achieved by sweat & labour of man, god doth always prosper & augment and therefore continuing our matter I say, that the princes officers ought to determine with themselves, to be upright in all their actions & doings, & above all, true & just of their words: which doing they shallbe sure to be beloved of all, not alone of them that pass under their lee, but also of those whom they have denied favour. And also they need not to be afraid to speak boldly in all places where they come, besides that they shallbe reverenced of all men. Where to the contrary, if he be a liar, a babbler, and dissembler, there are few that will fear them, much less love them, & least of all do them reverence, or honour. And although we cannot deny, but that these officers of the court, & other men of authority be waited upon, visited, accompanied, reverenced, and honoured of much sort of men: yet it were a folly for us to believe, that their train & attendants do them all that honour & reverence, for any desire they have to do them any service: but only they use all that courtesy, & capping, to get themselves & their suits quickly dispatched. And this to be true, we see it daily in experience. For when these suitors have achieved their suit & desire, they do not only leave to accompany him, & attend upon him, but more over they get than home, without either thanking of them, or once taking their leave of him. If all those that have function or office of estate or dignity, (having charge of the dispatch of great & weighty matters, being also liars & dissemblers in their doings) knew that ill reports that go of them, & how they condemn their corrupt & naughty consciences: me thinketh it impossible (if they be not altogether graceless) but they must needs either change condition & estate, or else quite give up their rooms & offices. For they are in every man's mouth called babblers, liars, dissemblers, traitors, perjurers, miserable, avaricious, & vicious. And yet a worse thing than all this, & that is: whilst they live, a thousand complains of him: and after they are dead & buried, they take up their bones out of the grave to hang them up upon a gibbet. For thus saith the proverb. Such life, such end. So that we may say, that to these officers above recited, resteth nothing but only these goodly rytles. And hereunto we may add also, that officers of like condition to them, need not to have any to accuse them, neither yet to punish them: For a time will come one day, that they will plunge themselves so deep into a sea of troubles, that it cannot be chosen, but they must needs at last drown, & utterly perish, or at the least to be driven into the haven of their greatest enemies, so that they shall carry the burden of their own wickedness, & be condingly chastised with their own folly. therefore I pray all those that shall read these writings of mine, to observe them in their heart, & imprint them well in mind: being a matter of such morality and wisdom, that it can hardly be understanded of any, but of such as first have had some proof thereof. Helius Spat●hianus writeth that there was sometime a senator in Rome called Lucius Torquatus, who was a tyrant, a dissembler, a great liar, and very seditious, devising only to set discord between the emperor Tytus, and the people: who being many times complained upon by the people unto Tytus, he answered them thus. I pray you good people, let no man seek to reprove him, persuade him, threaten, nor punish him: for he is so wicked, and perverse in all things, that I trust in the gods one day his own crooked & naughty condition, shall make revenge and satisfaction of all the mischiefs he hath done me: which was a wonderful thing in this prince, that for an injury of such importance as that was, he would have no other revenge of him, but refer all to that he hoped to see by his own ill nature. And sure the matter well considered, he had good reason to do it. For a wicked person is of this condition, that after he hath once begun to do evil, he never ceaseth daily to do worse (if he be not reclaimed by some honest man) until such time as unwares (not looking to himself) he utterly falleth to ruin & perdition. So that we may aptly compare an ill man, to a candle, which after it is once light, it never leaveth burning, till it have made an end of itself. In great & weighty matters sometimes, such as have the dispatching of them, are wont to speak one word for an other, & also to make some faint promises to their suitors, not in respect to lie to them nor deceive them: but to prolong them longer in suit, to increase their gaigne the more. Which I must say they ought not to do, much less once to think it. When the favoured courtier or officer of the prince is moved in any matter by the suitor, let him consider well if it be any thing that may displease the prince, be it never so little: for they must take great heed that they tell not princes, nor their servants, any thing that they know may be displeasant to their years: but only that, that shallbe both pleasant to the ear, profitable to the purse, & there withal, that it be true & necessary to be told & looked to. For there is no greater destruction to the common weal, then to bring false reports unto the king of his affairs. It is one of the greatest kinds of treason that can be, for a prince to disclose the secrets of his heart to his favoured courtier, and for him again to tell the prince nothing but lies, & tales. How great a friend so ever the prince be to his favoured courtier, the beloved courtier ought not to presume to advance himself to tell, or make his prince believe one thing for an other. For the matter afterwards discovered, & the troth known, it shall not be enough for him in his excuse to tell the prince that he made him believe so, only to satisfy his friend. For the king may justly tell him, that it is but an excuse, & that he meant no other but to deceive him. For prince's ears & conditions, are so delicate: that I am bold to admonish them that are his familiars, & beloved of him, that they endeavour themselves always to speak (with all humble duty & reverence) that that is true, yea though in secret it pleaseth the prince to be merry with them. This is ever true: he that is a friend of verity, is also of justice: and he that is a friend of justice, is also of the common weal: and he that is a friend of the common weal, is ever endued with a good conscience: and he that hath a good conscience, consequently is of a good life, he that is of a good life, is also of a good same, and beloved of all. Albeit we cannot deny, but that his enemies will ever speak ill of him: yet we may say also, that they can never hurt nor condemn him: but rather he should be counted a fool of all men, that will go about or seek to be his enemy, who is honest in his doings, true in his words, modest in his behaviour, beloved, and well thought of of al. Therefore he putteth himself into a great peril, that dare make himself a companion, & fellow in doings, with a wise & virtuous man. For he must think, that accompanying with such a man, he accompanieth not his person alone, but also the virtues that reign in him: & if he do repugn & gainsay reasonable things, he shall strait show himself to come of a wicked race, & to be plunged and rooted in all malice. Now to the end we may leave nothing beehind, that may serve to advise & counsel this our favoured courtier, I say also: that there are many other in favour with the prince, that oft times do procure the prince to give offices of dignity, & realty of the realm, sometimes to their kinsfolks, otherwhiles to their friends, & afterwards to their servants also: which perhaps are so unmeet & unworthy for them, that neither their merits shall deserve to have them, nor their knowledge & experience also fit, for so weighty an administration. And they do not procure these offices for them, for that they are wise, and capable: but only to advance them above others, & because they are very troublesome & importunate. I am sorry to write it, & much more to see it, that offices are not geeven now for the benefit of the common wealth, but to recompense those of whom the favoured courtier hath received pleasure, or else to satisfy the importunacy of his servants of his own house. But by process of time it might hap (by means of their skilless rule) that the king would take from them altogether their offices, or remove them from one place to an other, although they were never well settled in a town, & commodiously. And being the prince's pleasure to do thus, the wise & beloved courtier must take heed he do not contrary the king, much less take upon him to defend the ill government of those officers, hoping thereby to come to greater honour. For it were less hurt for him, the officer lost his estate & office, than he his credit & reputation. Therefore those in favour & authority ought to content themselves with the prince, the servants with their masters, & the parents & kinsfolks with the prince's officers, for that they procured them these offices at the kings hands, with the ill wills of many: without that they further press, & importune than, to suborn their faults. For after that the doings of these worthy officers be once discovered to be nought & corrupted, it is impossible by any means to make them good before the prince, with whom all the means the parents & kinsfolks of such people can make, cannot stead them to bring them to their first honour, by their own folly lost. And now to end this our present volume of the favoured courtier, I do assure all the beloved courtiers, that if god shall find purity in their souls, the common weal justice in their house, & the king troth in their mouths, & fidelity in their hearts, the good and honest men grace in their favour, & that the ill & wicked boast themselves no more of their authority & office, & that the poor shall praise them for their good works, & the king also find them faithful servants, I will at this present with mine own hand give them such faith & assurance, that they shall need never to fear that god will forsake them, nor that men can hurt them, and that they shall never be detected of any infamy, overthrown by any misfortune, neither put out of favour & credit with their prince at any tyme.   
Finis.   

Here followeth certain other letters written by Marcus Aurelius, Selected out of the Spanish copy, not written in the French tongue.  

¶ Of the huge monster seen in Sicily in the time of Marcus Aurelius: And of the letters he wrote with blood upon a gate. Cap. i.  
IN the year of the foundation of Rome .720. and xlii of the age of Marcus Aurelius, and two years before he took possession of the Empire, the twenty day of August, about the going down of the Sun, in the Realm of Sicill in the City of Palermo (a port of the Sea) there chanced a thing perilous to them that saw it then, and no less dread full to those which shall hear it now. Whiles they of Palermo were celebrating a great feast with much joy, that they had vanquished the navy of the Numidians, the pirates dividing their booty, were prevented by the magistrates of the city, who commanded the whole spoil to be laid up till the wars were finished: for such was the law of the isle. And truly it was a just law, for oftentimes the only let why the peace is not made, between princes, is because there wanteth riches to satisfy the damages done in wars. When all the people were returned home unto their houses to supper (for it was in the Summer) there appeared an huge monster in the city in this form. He seamed to be of the length of three cubits, his head was bald, so that his skull did appear. He had no ears, save only two holes in his neck, whereby men judged that he heard: he had two writhen horns like a goat, his right arm was longer than his left, his hands were like the feet of horses, without throat, his shoulders and his head were both of one height, his shoulders shone as doth the scales of fishes, his breast was all rough of here, his face in all things was like unto a man, save that it had but one eye which was in the midst of his forehead. In his nose there was but one nosethril. From the middle downward there was nothing seen, because it was all covered, he sat on a chariot with four wheels, which was drawn with four beasts, that is, two Lions before, and two Bears behind. No man could tell of what would the chariot was made. In fashion it differed nothing from those which other men do accustomably use. Within the chariot stood a great chauldron with ears, wherein the monster was, wherefore it could not be seen but from the middle upward. It wandered a great space in the city from one gate to an other, casting out sparks of fire. The fear was so great throughout all the city, that some women with child were with great danger delivered, and others being faint hearted fell down dead. And all the people both men and women great and small ran to the temples of jupiter, Mars, and Februa, with doleful clamours and cries making their importunate prayers. At the same time, all these rovers were lodged in the governors palace of the city, whose name was Solyno, borne at Capua, where also the riches was kept. After the monster had been in all parts of the city (or in the most part thereof) it came to the palace where the pirates were, and cut one of the Lion's ears of, and with the blood thereof wrote these letters upon the palace gate which was shut R. A. S. P. I. P. These letters were of divers men diversly interpreted so that the interpretations were more than the letters. And in the end, a woman prophetess greatly esteemed for her science, (to whom God had given this secret knowledge) opened the true meaning of these letters, saying R. signifieth Reddite, A. aliena, S. si vultis. P. propria, I. in pace, P. possidere. Which altogethers is to say. Render unto other that which is theirs, if you in quiet will possess your own. Truly the pirates were wonderfully afraid of this sudden commandment, and the woman was highly commended for her exposition. This being done, the monster went the same night out of the City unto a high hill called jamicia, and there stood for the space of three days in the sight of the city, the Lions with terrible voices roaring, the Bears with no less fearful cries raging, and finally the monster most dreadful flames casting. During all this time there was neither bird seen in the air, nor beast in the fields. And the people offered such great sacrifices unto their Gods, that they broke the veins of their hands and feet, and offered the blood thereof to see if they could appease their wraths. These three days being passed, there appeared in the element a marvelous dark cloud, which seamed to darken the whole earth, and there with it began to thunder and lighten so terribly, that sundry houses fell to the ground, and infinite men ended their lives. And last of all there came such a flame of fire from the monster, that it brent both the palace where the rovers were, & all other things that were therein, so that all was consumed with fire: yea the very stones themselves. The tempest was so great, that there fell above two thousand houses, and there died more than ten thousand persons. In this place where this monster was on the top of the hill, the emperor edified a sumptuous temple to the god jupiter in perpetual memory of the same. Whereof afterward Alexander emperor, having war with the people of that Isle made a strong castle.   

¶ Of that which chanced unto Antigonus a citizen of Rome, in the time of Marcus Aurelius. Cap. two.  
AT the same time when this woeful chance happened in the Isle, there dwelled a Roman in the same city called Antigonus, a man of a noble blood, and well strooken in age, who with his wife and daughter were banished two years before from Rome. The cause of his banishment was this. There was an old laudable custom in Rome instituted, by Quintus Cincinatus the dictator, that two of the most ancient senators should ●o with the censor newly created (in the month of December) to visit all Rome and to examine severally every Roman, declaring unto him the xii tables, & also the particular decrees of the senate, demanding of them, if they knew any man that had not observed these laws: and if they did, they should inform the senate thereof. And so every man should receive condign punishment according to his offence. But they never punished before they warned, for they used the one year to admonish them of their faults, and the next year if they did not amend to punish them, or else to banish them. These were the words of the law in the fift table, and third chapter.  
The sacred senate doth ordain, the happy people do consent, & the ancient colonies do allow, that if men as men in one year do trespass, that men as men for that year do wink at them: but if they as evil men do not amend, that then the good as good do punish them. Moreover the law said, the first faults are dissembled withal, because they are committed through weak ignorance: but the second shall be punished, because they proceed of negligence and malice. This inquiry was made in the month of December, because in the month of january following the officers of Rome were elected. And it was reason the good from the evil should be known, to th'intent they might know who merited to have them, & who deserved to go without them. The chief cause why this Antigonus, his wife, and his daughter were banished was this. It was ordained by the eleventh emperor of Rome Augustus, that no man should be so hardy as to piss near the doors of any temple. And Caligula the fourth emperor commanded, that no woman should give, or sell any letters of witchecrafts to hang about the people's necks, to deliver them from the fever quartain. And Cato the censor made a law, that neither young man nor maid should talk togethers at the conduits where they used to fetch water, nor at the river where they washed their clothes, nor at the bakehouse where they baked their bread: because all the wanton youth of Rome ordinarily haunted one of these two places. It chanced when the censors and consuls visited the ward of mount Celio, Antigonus, who dwelled thereby, was accused to have pissed against the walls of the temple of Mars: and his wife likewise was complained of for selling writings to cure the fevers: and his daughter was noted for one that commonly haunted the conduits, rivers, and bakehouses to talk with young men, the which in those days was a great shame to maids of Rome. The censors therefore seeing the evil precedent which they found in the house of Antigonus at that time, registered also before, and that he had been gently thereof admonished: banished him into the Isle of Sicily, for as long time as it should please the senate. And like as in sumptuous and goodly buildings one stone falleth not without shaking of an other, so it chanceth likewise to men. For commonly one mischance cometh not alone but that another immediately followeth. I speak it for this purpose, for that Antigonus was not only deprived of his honour, goods, and country, but also by an earth quake, his house fell down to the ground, & slew his dearest beloved daughter. Whiles both these great mischances happened, I mean of the monster of Sicily, and of the banishment of Antigonus from Rome: Mark the emperor was in the wars against the Argonauts where he received a letter from Antigonus of his banishment, whereof the emperor was marvelous sorry: as it appeareth by the answer which he sent to comfort him.   

¶ How Marcus Aurelius sought the wealth of his people, and how his people loved him. Cap. iii.  
IN the second year that Mark was elected emperor the xlv of his age, when he returned from the conquest of the Germans, & the Argonauts, (from whence he brought great riches, and treasures, to the Roman empire) he to rest himself, and to appoint his men, lay at Salon until such time as the Romans had prepared all things convenient for such a glorious triumph: There was one thing done which never was seen in Rome, for that same day of his triumph his son Comodus by the assent of the whole people of Rome, was chosen emperor after the death of his father. He was not chosen at the request of his father, for he was against it: saying that the empire ought not to be given for the merits of those which are dead, but he should be chosen for his own good works being alive. This emperor said oftentimes that then Rome should be undone, when the election shallbe taken from the senate, & when the emperor shall inherit the empire by patrimony. Now to come to our matter: th'emperor being at Salon travailed much to bring his men into Rome in good order: and Rome was more careful for to receive him triumphantly, as it appertained to such a great conquest. He was marvelously well beloved of all the empire, and he always studied the wealth of his people, and they were always most faithful in his services. So that sundry times there was a question moved in the senate, which of these two things was better beloved, Either the emperor of his people, or the people of their emperor. So that one day they appointed two judges in this case, the one was the Ambassador of the Parthes', and the other was the Ambassador of the Rhodes, and the information was given on both parts in writing. The emperor alleged the great profit that he had done to the common wealth, and the many evils which he had delivered it from. On the other part the senators declared the good deeds they had done in his absence, and the great love they bore him always in his presence. So likewise the emperor an other day moved an other question to the senate, affirming that it was more glory for him to have such subjects, then for them to have such an emperor. The senate denied it, affirming that the comfort was greater that they had of him: then that which he could have of them. And in this wise the emperor gave the glory to his people, and the people gave the glory to their emperor. Thus merrily this matter was reasoned of again. It was a pleasant thing to hear the reasons wherewith each part proved his purpose. For the good emperor attributed the whole laud for a perpetual memory unto the people, because of the great obedience, diligent service, and faithful love which he had found in them. And on the other part the fortunate people gave the glory unto the emperor, for his clemency, & mercifulness, for his uprightuous governing, for his honesty of living, & for his stout courage in conquering. It was a thing worthy of noting, to see how the people gave the honour to their emperor, and how the emperor attributed the praise to his people. These matters were delivered in trust to the strange Ambassadors, to th'end that all people might learn to obey their princes, and also princes learn to love their people: to th'end that by such examples (as it was reason) the good should be encouraged, and the evil discomforted. Thus the emperor prepared all things ready with his captains and captives for his entering, and the people of Rome made as great preparation for to receive him. It was a marvelous thing to see what people came forth of Rome to meet him, & what an infinite numbered were at Salon to behold him. They that were at Salon had their eyes there, and their hearts at Rome: and they that were at Rome, had their hearts at Salon, in such sort that their eyes dazzled with that they saw, and their hearts also rejoiced for that they hoped to see. For there is no greater torment to the heart, then when it is deferred from that which it greatly desireth.   

¶ How at the intercession of many which the Empress had sent, the Emperor granted his daughter Lucilla licence to sport herself at the feasts. Cap. lxi.  
YOu shall understand, that the Romans used always, in the month of january, to permit that their emperors should triumph. And it chanced that at that time when they prepared for the triumph, Faustine the empress caused divers noble barons to demand licence of the emperor, that her daughter might come from her mistress where she was taught, to the feasts. Her name was Lucilla: who was elder than the prince Comodus her brother. She had a goodly gesture, she was well made in the body, & dearly beloved of her mother, whom she resembled not only in beauty, but also in living. Though the request seemed to be reasonable, and those that made it his counsellors & great about him, & though him whom they asked was the father, and she that demanded it was the mother, and she for whom this request was made was the daughter: yet the emperor would not grant it, but half against his wil Faustine when she had obtained licence was exceeding glad, and so soon as she might possible, she brought her daughter home unto the palace. And when the day of the great feast & solemn triumph came: the young damosel perceiving herself at large without any governor, trusting in the innocency of herself, esteemed not the malice of any other man: but rejoiced with those that rejoiced, talked with them that talked, beheld them that beheld her, and she thought because she mente evil to no man, that no man willed evil to her. In those days it was as great an offence for a maid of Rome, to laugh in the company of men: as it was for a woman of Grecia to be taken in adultery with a priest. So greatly was the honesty at that time of the Roman Matrons regarded, and the lightness of the maidens was so detested, that they gave more sharper punishment for one offence done openly, then for two other which were committed in secret. Among all other things, from these seven the Roman Matrons did marvelously refrain, that is to weet: from talking much at feasts, from greedy eating among strangers: From drinking wine whiles they were whole: From talking in secret with any man: From lifting up their eyes in the temples: From gazing much out at the windows. And from wandering abroad without their husbands. For the woman that was apprehended in any of these things, was always after counted as one defamed. There are many things suffered in persons of mean estate, which can not be endured in those of higher degree: For Ladies of high renown, can not keep the reputation of their estates, unless they are marvelous circumspect in all their doings. All things that degenerate from their kind deserve blame: but the dishonest woman meriteth infamy. If lady's will be counted ladies in deed, let them know how much they excel others in riches, so much less licence have they then other to go gadding in the streets. For of a surety the abundance of their riches, and the liberty of their persons, should not be a spur to provoke them to gad abroad, but rather a bridle to keep them within. All this is spoken for this cause that Lucilla, as a maid tender and young, and Faustine her mother, as one not very old: sometimes on foot, and sometimes riding: sometimes openly, and now and then secretly: Sometimes with company, and at other times alone: Sometimes by day, and oft-times by night: used to foot the streets of Rome, to view the fields of Vulcan: To sport them by the river of Tiber: to gather the fruits in the Ortechardes of Saturn: to sup at the conduits of Nero, and such other vagaries they used. The which things though their age did desire, and their idleness allure them unto: yet the gravity of such ladies ought to have withdrawn them from it. I will speak one thing, to th'end that other ladies and gentlewomen may take warning thereby: which is, that I can not tell which was greater, either the small discretion which moved Faustine, and Lucilla, to wander in such sort about the streets: or the audacity that evil men took thereby to talk of their persons, and doubt of their honesties. The keeping of women in their houses, is like unto a bridle to hold still evil men's tongues. The woman that is a strayer abroad, putteth her good name in much danger. Of troth it were better for a woman never to be borne: then to live with an evil name. Among all the families of the ancient Romans, that of the Cornelians was counted most fortunate, for among the men there was never any found a coward, nor among the women any that was defamed. The historiographers say, that there was one woman of that lineage, only for being light in her behaviour, was by the hands of her own parents executed and put to death. Surely it was well done of the Romans, to th'intent that the lightness of one woman alone, should not defame the whole family. Where as is nobleness, and honesty: there the matters that touch the honour, ought not to tarry whiles they be remedied by justice: but from that man or woman which among all hath lost his good name, from the number of the living he also ought to be taken. It is not sufficient for one to himself to be good: but it is requisite that he give no occasion to others to judge him to be evil. All the losses of temporal goods that chance unto men in this life, ought not to be compared with a little blemish of a man's good name. The man that hasardeth for a trifle his good name in this world, shall at a hundredth shoots scarcely shoot one right. And contrariwise, the man that hath lost his honesty, and that esteemeth not the reputation of his person: truly from him we shall never see any good thing proceed. Now the emperor like unto a wise shipmaster, fearing after the great calms some tempestuous storm: seeing the lightness of his daughter and vanity of the mother (I mean in the time of this great mirth and gladness) feared lest any infamy should ensue unto these two ladies. And for a surety he doubted not without a cause for it is an infallible rule of envious fortune, to give us in many years a little prosperity, to th'intent that afterward suddenly she may bring us into some great adversity. By experience we see, that the sea is seldom times calm: but immediately followeth some perilous tempest. The extreme heat of the day doth prognosticate, that terrible thunder in the eventide. I mean, when fortune doth flatter us with her golden pills, it is a token that she intendeth to catch us in her snares. The mylner before the banks broken repareth the dams. The husbandman before it raineth, thacketh his house, fearing the snow and rain that is to come. So likewise the sage man ought to consider, that during this life he hath prosperity but by leave, & adversity as by patrimony. Marcus Aurelius among all other men was he that knew how to enjoy prosperity, & also to prevail of adversity. Though fortune gave him much prosperity: yet he never trusted therein, nor for any troubles that ever he received in this life, he was at any time abashed,   

Of the sharp words which Marcus Aurelius spoke to his wife, and to his daughter. Cap. v.  
WHen the triumphs before named were finished, this good Emperor being willing to unbourden his heart and to advise Faustine, & to teach the young damosel his daughter, and to the end that no man should hear it, he called them a part, and said unto them these words. I am not content Faustine with that thy daughter did, nor yet with that which thou hast done being her mother. The daughters if they willbe counted good children, must learn to obey their fathers: and the mothers if they will be counted good mothers, must learn to bring up their daughters well. When the mother is honest, and the daughter shamefast, the father is excused in giving council. It is great shame to the father being a man, that the mother being a woman should chastise his son. And it is a great reproach to the mother, that the daughter should be chastised by the hands of any man. There was a law enacted among the Rhodiens, that neither the father should have to do with the daughters, nor the mothers with the sons, but the men used to bring up the men, and the women the women. And in such wise, that they abiding all in one house, it seemeth unto the fathers that they had no daughters, and unto the mothers that they had no sons. O Rome, Rome, I bewail the not for to see the streets unpavid, nor to see the houses so decayed, nor to see the battlements so fallen down, nor the timber hewed down, nor for the dyminishing of the habytaunts, for all this time bringeth, and time taketh away, but I weep for thee, and weep for the again, to see the unpeopled of good fathers, and unprovided in the nourishing of their children. Rome began to decay, when the discipline of sons and daughters was enlarged, & that their bridle was let at liberty. For there is now such boldness in boys, and so little shamefastness in girls, with dishonesty of the mothers, that where as one father sufficed for twenty sons, and one mother for xx. daughters: now xx. father's dare scarcely undertake to bring up well one son, & thirty, mother's one daughter. I say this to you Faustine, you remember not how you are a mother, for you give more liberty to your dougher than aught to be suffered. And now Lucilla remember not how you are a daughter: for you show to have more liberty than requireth for a young maiden. The greatest gift that the gods have given to the Matrons of Rome is: because that they are women, they keep themselves close and secret, and because they are Romans, they are shamefast. The day when the women want the fearre of the gods secretly, and shame of men openly, believe me they shall either fail the world, or the world them.  
The common wealth requireth it of great necessity, that the women which therein inhabit should be as honest, as the captains valiant: for the captains going to war defend them, and the women which abide at home conserve them. As now four years passed ye saw this great pestilence: and I demand then to have account of the people, and I found that of C. and xl. M. honest women lxxx M. died: & of ten M. dishonest women in manner they scaped al. I cannot tell for which I should weep, either for the lack that we have of the good & virtuous women in our common wealth, or else for the great hurt & damages that these evil & wicked women do to the youth of Rome. The fire that brenneth in mount Ethna doth not so much endamage those that dwell in Scicil, as one evil woman doth with in the walls of Rome. A fierce beast, and a perilous enemy to the common wealth is an evil woman for she is of power to commit all evils, and nothing apt to do any good O how many realms and kingdoms read we of, which by the evil behaviours of one woman have been lost, and to resist against them, there hath been need both of wisdom, perils, money, and force of many men.  
The vices in a woman is as a green read that boweth every way: but the lightness and dyshonesty is as a dry kyxe that breaketh, in such wise that the more evil they utter, the more unlikely is the amendment thereof.  
Behold Faustine, there is no creature that more desireth honour and worse keepeth it, than a woman, and that this is true, we see by justice, by orations, by writing, and other travails, man getteth fame & renown: but without it be by flattering, and fair speaking, this hour by ancient writers we can read of few women or none, which either by writing, reading, working with needle, spinning, or by weaving, have gotten them any great renown. But as I say of one, I say of an other, certainly of divers we read, by keeping them close in their houses, being well occupied in their business, temperate in their words, faithful to their husbands, well ordered in their persons, peaceable with their neighbours, and finally for being honest among their own family, and shamefast amongst strangers, they have obtained great renown in their life, and left a perpetual memory of them after their death. I will tell you an ancient history as profitable to restrain our vices, as it did then augment virtues, which is this. The realm of the lacedemonians as Plato saith, was a long time as dissolute through the unthriftiness of women, as infamed by the vices of men, so that of all nations they were called barbarous, what time Greece of the philosophers, was called the mother of philosophers, Lycurgus a wise philosophers in knowledge, and a right just king in governance, partly with his doctrine very profitable, & partly with his life most pure, ordained laws in the said realm, whereby he expelled all vices, and planted all virtues. I cannot tell which of these two were most happiest, the king having so obedient people, or else the realm to have so worthy a king. Among other laws for women he enacted one worthy of high commendation, the which commanded, that the father which died should give nothing to his daughter: and another, that neither living nor dying he should give any money to marry her with, to th'intent that none should take her for her goods, but all only for her virtues: and not for her beauty but for her qualities: where as now some be forsaken because where as now some be forsaken because they are poor, so than they abode unmarried because they were vicious, O time worthy to be desired, when maidens hoped not to be married with their father's goods, but by the virtuous works of their own persons, this was the time called the golden world, when neither the daughter feared to be disherited by the father in his life, nor the father to die sorrowful for leaving her without dowry at his death. O Rome, cursed be he that first brought gold into thy house, & cursed be he that first began to hoard up treasure. Who have made Rome to be so rich of treasure, and so poor of virtues? who hath caused noble men to marry the Plebeians, & leave the daughters of Senators unmarried? what hath made that the rich man's daughter is demanded unwilling, & the daughters of a poor man none will desire? What hath caused that one marrieth a fool with five hundredth marks, rather than a wise woman with ten thousand virtues? then I will not say that in this case the flesh vanquished the flesh, but I say that vanity is overcome of malice. For a covetous person will sooner now a days take a wife that is rich & foul, than one that is poor and fair: O unhappy woman that bring forth children, and more unhappy be the daughters that are borne: the which to take in marriage no man desireth, neither for the blood of their predecessors, nor the favour of their friends, nor the worthiness of their persons, nor for the purity of their lives. O wicked world, where the daughter of a good man without money shall have no marriage: but it was not wont to be so. For in the old time when they treated of marriages, first they spoke of the persons, and after of the goods, not as they do at this present in this unhappy time: for now they speak first of the goods & last of all of the persons. In the said golden world, first they spoke of the virtues that the person was endued with: and when they were married, as it were in sport they would speak of the goods. When Camillus triumphed over the Gauls, he had then but one son, and he was such one that his deserts merited great praise, & for the renown of his father, divers kings desired to have him to their sons, and divers senators desired to have him to their son in law. This young man being of the age of thirty. years, & the father at lx. was importunately stirred by his natural friends, and desires of strange kings, for to marry him, but always the old Camille withstood the concel of his friends & the importunity of the strangers. When it was demanded why he determined not upon some marriage for his son, sith thereby should ensue the quiet life of the man, & the joy of himself in his age, he answered. I will not marry my son, because some offer me rich daughters, some noble of lineage, some young, and some fair. But there is none hath said to me, I give you my virtuous daughter. Certainly Camil merited triumph for that he did, and deserved eternal memory for that he said. I spoke to you Faustine, all these words, because I see you lead your daughter to theaters, and plays, and bring her into the capitolle, you put her to the keeping of the sword players, you suffer her to see the tumblers, & yet do you not remember that she is young, and you not to aged, you go into the streets without licence, and sport you by the rivers: I find no vyllannye therein, nor think that your daughter is evil, but I say it, because you give occasion that she should not be good.  
Beware, beware Faustine, never trust to the race of flesh of young people, nor have no confidens in old folks: for there is no better way, then to fly the occasion of all things.  
For this intent the virgin's vestals are closed up between the walls, to eschew the occasions of open places, not to be more light and foolish, but to be more sad & virtuous flying occasions. The young shall not say, I am young and virtuous: nor the old shall not say, I am old and broken. For of necessity the dry flax will bren in the fire, & the green flag smoke in the flame.  
I say though a man be a diamond set among men, yet of necessity he ought to be quick, and to melt as wax in the heat among women, we cannot deny that though the would be taken from the fire and the embers quenched: yet nevertheless the stones oftentime remain hot. In likewise the flesh, though it be chastised with hot and dry diseases, consumed by many years with travail, yet concupiscens abideth still in the bones.  
What need is it to blaze the virtues, and deny our naturalyties? certainly there is not so old a horse, but if he see a mare will neigh once or twice: there is no man so young nor old but let him see fair young damosels, either he will give a sigh, or a wish. In all voluntary things I deny not, but that one may be virtuous: but in natural things, I confess every man to be weak. When you take the wood from the fire, it leaveth burning: when summer cometh the cold winter ceaseth: when the sea is calm, the waves leave their vehement motions: when the son is set, it lighteneth not the world. I will say, that then, and not before, the flesh will cease to trouble us, when it is laid in the grave, of the flesh we are borne, in the flesh we live, and in the flesh we shall die: & thereby it followeth, that our good life shall sooner end, than our fleshly desires forsake us, oftentimes some wholesome flesh corrupteth in an evil vessel, and good wine sometime favoureth of the foist. I say, though that the works of our life be virtuous: yet shall we feel the stench of the weak flesh. I spoke this Faustines, sith that age cannot resist these hot appitites, how can the tender members of youth resist them? unless you that are the mother go the right way, how should the daughter that followeth you find it? the Roman matrons, if they will bring up their daughters well, ought to keep these rules, when they see that they would wander abroad, that they break their legs: and if they should be gazing: then put out their eyes: and if they will listen, stop their ears: if they will give or take, cut of their hands: if they dare speak, sow up their mouths: if they will pretend any lightness, bury them quick: death ought to be given to an evil daughter, in stead of her dowry: for gifts, give her worms, and for her house, a grave.  
Take heed Faustine, if you will have much joy of your daughter take from her the occasions whereby she shall be evil. To underset a house behoveth divers props: and if the principals be taken away, it will fall down, I say you women are so frail, that with keepers, with great pain they can keep themself, and for a small occasion they will lose altogether. O how many evil hath there been, not because they would be so, but because they followed such occasions, the which they ought to have eschewed. It is at my pleasure to enter into this battle, but yet it is not in my power to attain the victory, it is for me to enter into the sea, yet it lieth not in my hands to escape the peril: it is in the hands of a woman to enter into the occasion, and after that she is therein, it is not in her power to escape from evil, to deliver her from tongues. Peradventure Faustine, thou wilt say to me, none can speak to your daughter Lucil, unless thou hearest it: nor see her, but thou seest him: nor convey her, but thou knowest where: nor make any appointment, without thy consent: and yet thou knowest, that those which will her evil, seek with their tongues to dishonour her: and those that with their hearts love her, speak only in their hearts. We love in young blood, in the springing time and flourishing youth is a poison, that forthwith spreadeth into every vain, it is a herb that entereth into the entrails, a swooning that incontinently mortyfieth all the members, and a pestilence that slayeth the hearts, and finally it maketh an end of all virtues. I know not what I say, but I feel that which I would say, for I would never blaze love with my tongue, except I were sore wounded therewith in my heart. ovid saith in his book of the art of love, love is I wots not what, it cometh I know not from whence, who sent it I wots not, it engendereth I know not how, it is satisfied I wots not wherewith, it is felt, & I wots not how, oft it slayeth, I wots not wherefore, and finally without breaking the flesh outwardly, love taketh root, and molesteth the heart inwardly. I know not what ovid meaneth hereby, but I trow when he said these words, he was as far banished from himself, as I am at this time from myself. O Faustine, they that love together, utter the secrets of their hearts by divers ways, and in sleeping they reason & speak & by signs they understand each other. The many words outwardly, declare small love inwardly: and the fervent inward love, keepeth silence outward.  
The entrails within embraced with love, cause the tongue outward to be mute: he that passeth his life in love. aught to keep his mouth close. And to th'intent that ye shall not think that I speak fables, I will prove this by ancient histories, we find anciently, that in the year cclxx after the foundation of Rome. Etrasco a young Roman that was dumb, and Verona a fair Lady of the Latins which was dumb also, these two saw each other on the mount Cel●o at the feasts, and there fell in love togethers, and their hearts were as sore fixed in love, as their tongues were tied from speech. It was a marvelous thing to see then, & fearful to note now that this young lady came from Salon to Rome: & he went from Rome to Salon sundry times by the space of 30. years, without the knowledge of any parson, and never spoke together. It chanced at the last that the husband of the lady Verona died, & the wife of Etrasco also, and then they discovered their love, and treated a marriage between them. And these two dumb parsons had issue a son of whom descended the noble lineage of our Scipions, which were more famous in the feats of arms, than their father & mother were troubled for want of words.  
Then Faustine mark this thing, it had little availed to have cut out the tongues of the two dumb persons to have remedied their love, and not to have cut out their hearts. And I shall tell you of Masinissa a worthy knight of Numidie, and Sophonissa a famous lady of Carthage, all only by one sight as they saw each other on a ladder, he declareth his desire unto her and she knowing his lust breaking the oores of fear, and lifting up the anchors of shame, incontinente raised the sails of their hearts, and with the ships of their persons they joined each to other, here may we see, how the first sight of their eyes, the knowledge of their parsons, the consent of their hearts, the copulation of their bodies, the decay of their estates, and the loss of their names, in one day, in one hour, in one moment, and in one step of a ladder were lost, what will you that I say more to this purpose? do you not know what Heleyne the Greek, and Paris the Trojan, of two strange nations, and of far countries, with one only sight in a temple their wills were so knit together, that he took her as his captive, and she abode his prisoner. In Paris appeared but small force, and in Heleyne but little resistance, so that in manner those two young persons, the one procuring to vanquish, and the other suffering to be vanquished: Paris was cause of his father's death, and they both of their own deaths, loss to their realms, & scaunder to all the world. All this love grew of one only sight. When great king Alexander would have given battle to the Amosones, the queen (captain of them) no less fair than strong and virtuous, came to a river side, & the space of an hour each of them beheld an other with their eyes, without uttering of any word.  
And when they returned to their tents, their fierceness was turned into sweet wanton amorous words. When Pirius the faithful defender of the Tharrentines, and renowned king of Epirotes was in Italy, he came into Naples, and had not been there but one day, but he was enamoured of a fair lady named Gemelicia, of a high lineage, and greatly esteemed of her beauty, and the very same day she was gotten with child, and shamed throughout all Italy, and cast out of the city: & after that she was delivered of child, she was slain by one of her own brethren. Also Cleopatra in the province of Bithiny, in the wood Sechin made a goodly banquet of Marcus Antonius her lover, and though she was not very honest, yet had she with her chaste women And thus the banquet endured a great part of the night. And the wood being thick, young damosels were not so wily to hide them, but the young men Romans found them: so that of .60. daughters of the senators, 55. were gotten with child among the thick bushes, which thing made a great slander in the people, & augmented the infamy of Marcus Antonius. Thus as I have showed of a small number, I could say of many other. All men are not men, nor all women are not women. I speak it, because I would it should be said, let it touch them that it toucheth, & let them that come understand me. There are some ships which are so light, that they will sail with a little wind. And there be other some mills that will grind with a little water. I say there be some women so brickle, that as a glass with a phylyppe will break, and will slip with a little mire.  
Tell me Faustine, have you suffered your daughter to speak but with her uncles, and keep company but with her cousins? I say in this case that the mother is in as much blame, as the daughter in peril. Do you not know that the hot fire doth not forbear the wood, be it wet or dry: but in likewise it consumeth the hard stones? Do you not know, that the extreme hunger causeth beasts to devour with their own teeth, the thing that was bread in their entrails? Do you not know, that the gods made a law over all things, except over lovers, because they may not abide it? and doubtless it was right wisely done. Rome condemneth not these foolish innocents, because they have no understanding. The gods give no pain to amorous people, because they are deprived from reason. Ye know when I was censor, there was a young woman which had a child by her own father, and another had a child by her son, and a niece by her proper uncle: and there was sentence given on them, that the father should be given to the lions, and the children buried quick, and the mothers were brent in the camp of Mars. The matter was so horrible to here, that I might not endure to see the cursed men, and I commanded by my decrees, that none should be so bold to speak in such a case any more.  
And if this case were fearful to men, then certainly the Roman Matrons ought to live chastely. Then if the fire of the father do chafe the daughter, inflameth kinsfolk, and burneth themself: ye may be sure if he find either cousin, or fair sister, the flames of his concupiscence will not leave to take hold on her, for any parentage. If this riotous flesh will obey reason, than it may be that your daughter may speak liberally with her cousins, but sith that passion repugneth so much at reason, I counsel you, trust not to much in her brethren. You see by experience, that the worm that is bred in the timber, and the moths which are bred in the clothes, eateth that same cloth. I say that sometime a man bringeth him up in his house, which afterward taketh his honour and life from him.  
Faustine, take this that I have said for a warning, and these last words I give you counsel. If you will keep yourself from thought, and your daughter from peril, let your daughter be always occupied with some good works: for when the hands are occupied with any good exercise, than the heart is void from many idle and vain thoughts. Every lightness done in youth, breaketh down a lump of our life: but idleness whereby our envy entereth, is it which openeth the gate of all vices. Knowest thou Faustine, from whence proceedeth the undoing of the young Roman daughters? I will tell thee: for as soon as they be borne, they presume to be amorous, they as unmindful (with the recklessness of the father, and wantonness of the mothers) despise the honest travails, and embrace the pleasant idleness. Of idle motions, and outrageous thoughts, the eyes take licence without leave, the mind altereth, and the will is hurt. And finally, thinking to be the white that amorous men shoot at, they remain as a but full of all vices. And in conclusion, there is nothing that more chaseth the ball of the thought in this play then the hand set a work therewith.   

¶ The Emperor causeth his wife to take away all occasions of evil from her daughter, wherein is declared the frailty of the tender flesh. Cap. vi.  
THen the good Emperor Marcus, having a clear understanding, and a quiet mind, took right great heed of all things that were passed, prudently weighing things present, and things to come. Seeing that the perdition of princes depend all in will wholly, either giving themselves to strange things, forgetting their own, or else to intend to their own only, nothing regarding strange things: His heart was so agreeable to him, that neither the great business of them, nor for all the affairs of his house he would leave him the empire undispatched. I speak this, because this emperor Marcus had iiii. daughters, whose names were Lucilla, Porsenna, Matrina, and Domicia. All resembled their mother in excellent beauty, but they resembled not their father in honesty nor virtue. And though they were in governance under their masters out of his presence, yet he had them always in memory, and the elder they were, the more study and thought he took for them. And when they came to lawful age, he studied to make provision for them. It was a laudable custom, that the daughters of the officers of the senate should not marry without licence, nor the emperors daughters without the consent of the senate. Then it is so, that one of the said princesses his daughter being of age, and of will to be married, her father seeing her importunity, to accomplish her desire: because he was sick, he sent for Faustine, that she should go and talk in the senate: the which with all her power she with stood, because that secretly she had treated for an other marriage for her daughter, and openly she excused herself, saying that her daughter was to young and tender of age. And as the gods had given age sufficient to the father, so had not the daughter of years. When th'emperor understood this, he called Faustine to his bed side whereas he lay, and said: divers things are dissimuled in particular persons, the least of them is not to be suffered in them which are governors of other, the prince is never well obeyed, unless he hath good credence among his people. I say this Faustines, because you do one thing in secret, & say another openly: herein faileth the credence of so high a lady, & putteth in suspect the authority of so great an empire. If you suppose my good desires be sinister in your heart, for the wealth of your own children: how should we hope then in any of your good works, for the children of strangers? It seemeth to you better to give your daughter to them, that demand her of the mother, and refuse them that the father doth chose. Certainly because you are a woman you desire pardon, but in that you are a mother you augment your fault. Do you not know that marriages are guided some by fortune, and some by virtues & wisdom? Such as demand the daughters of the fathers, believe me, their eyes be more upon their own proper utility, then upon the wealth of another. I know well you bring forth the children, but the gods will marry them, sith they have endued them with so marvelous beauty. Do you not know that the beauty of women setteth strangers, on desire, and putteth neighbours in suspection? to great men it giveth fear, to mean men envy: to the parent's infamy, and peril to the persons themselves? with great pain it is kept, that is desired of many. Of truth I say, the beauty of women is nothing but a sign for idle folk, & an early waking for them that be light, whereas of strange desires lieth the renown of themselves, and I deny not, but that a light person searcheth sooner a woman with a fair face, than one of an honest life. But I say that a woman that is married, only for her beauty, may hope in her age to have an evil life. It is an infallible rule, that she that was married for her fairness, shall be despised for her foulness.  
O what trouble he offereth himself unto, which marrieth a fair woman It behoveth him to suffer her pride: for beauty, & folly, always go together.  
Also he must suffer her expenses, for folly in the head, & beauty in the face, be two worms which fret the life, and waste the goods.  
Also he must suffer her riots, for a fair woman will that none but she have her commandments in the house. Also he must suffer her nice minions, for many fair women will pass their lives in pleasure. Also he must suffer her presumption, for every fair woman will have prehemenence before all other. Finally he that marrieth with a fair woman, putteth himself in great jeopardy. And I shall tell you wherefore, surely Carthage was never so environed with Scipions, as the house of a fair woman is with light persons.  
O unhappy husband when his spirit is at rest, and the body sleeping, than those light persons run about the house, slaying his body with jealousy, casting their eyes at the windows, scaling the walls with ladders, singing sweet songs, playing on diverse instruments, watching at the gates, treating with bands, uncovering the house, and waiting at every corner thereof.  
All these things in case they shoot at the prick of woman's beauty, they leave not to shoot at the butt of the sorrowful husbands good name: & whether this be true or not, let them ask myself that am married with your beauty, and let them wit of my renown that go so about the city.  
I say much, but truly I feel more: no man complaineth of the gods, for giving him a foul wife among his destinies, white silver is not wrought, but in black pitch: and the tender tree is not preserved but by the hard bark. I say a man that marrieth a foul wife, leadeth a sure life, let every man chose as he lysteth: & I say a man that marrieth a fair wife: casteth his good name at hazard, and putteth his life in peril. All the infamy of our predecessors stood in exercising of deeds of arms, and now all the pastime of the Roman youth, is to serve Ladies. When a woman is bruited to be fair, than every man goeth thither, & taketh great pain to serve her, & the woman will be seen. I say Faustine, you never saw a damosel Roman greatly renowned in beauty, but either in deed, or in suspicion, there went some evil report of her name. In that little that I have red, I have herd of divers fair women, both of Grece, Italy, Parth, & Rome, and they be not in memory because they were fair, but for the great perils and misadventures which through their beauties chanced in the world. For by reason of their excellent beauties they were visited in their own lands, & for their infamy shamed through all the world. When the realm of Carthage flourished in riches, and was fortunate in arms, they ruled the common wealth by wise philosophers, & that they repulsed their enemies by strong arms. Arminius the philosopher was as greatly esteemed among the Carthagians as Homer was among the Greeks, or Cicero among the Romans. He lived in this world .122 years .80. of the which good years he lived most quietly, he was as much turned from women, as given to his books. Then the senate seeing he had such experience in the affairs of the weal public, & so withdrawn from all natural recreations, they desired him with great instance to be married, to th'intent the memory might be had of so excellent a wise man in time to come, & the more importune they were, the more he resisted, and said.  
I will not be married: for if she be foul, I shall abhor her. If she be rich I must suffer her. If she be poor, I must maintain her. If she be fair, I must take heed of her. If she be a shrew I cannot suffer her. And the lest pestilence of all those is sufficient to slay a. M. men. With such words this wise man excused himself. But in the end through great study in his age, he lost his sight, whereby the solitariness of his sweet liberty, constrained him to take the company of a woman, by whom he had a daughter, of the which descended the noble Amilears of Carthage, competitors of the Scipions, of Rome. The which showed no less worthiness in the defence of Carthage, then ours did courage in the amplifying of Rome. Tell me Faustine, may not such suspicion fall upon your daughter, though her virtue secure her in the peril, and her honesty assure her person? I will discover a secret thing to you. There is nothing that can chance evil to a woman, if she be environed with feminine shamefastness. Greatly they desire, and with much importunytie they procure those things which highly may be attained. There is nothing so certain as this, that the wealth of an other, is the cause of his own evil. And Faustine, ye know, that the most honest women, by our malice are most desired. Certainly their shamefastness, and keeping close, be arrows in defence of our honesty. We read not that the blood, riches, nor beauty of the unhappy matron Lucrece, were the cause that she was desired: but the beauty of her visage, the gravity of her person, the honesty of her living, the keeping of herself close in her house, the spending of her time and credit among her neighbours, & the great renown that she had among strangers, provoked the foolish Tarquin to commit with her adultery by force. What think you? whereof came this? I shall show you. We that be evil, are so evil, that we use evil the goodness of them that be good. The fault hereof is not in the Ladies of Rome, but rather in the immortal gods. Their clean honesty, declareth our cruel malice. Faustine, you say your daughter is to young to be married. Do you not know, that the good father ought to endoctrine his sons from their age: and to provide for his daughters whiles they be young? Of a troth, if the fathers be fathers, and the mother's mothers: as soon as the gods have given them a daughter, forthwith they ought to be mindful thereof, and never forget it, till they have provided her a husband. The fathers ought not to tarry for riches, nor the mother for her lineage, the better to marry them: so what with the one and the other, the time passeth, and the daughter waxeth aged: and in this manner they be to old to be married, and to live alone they cannot, so that they themselves live in pain, the fathers in thought, and the parents in suspection lest they should be cast away. O what great ladies have I known, the daughters of great senators, which not for fault of richeses, nor of virtues in their persons, but all only for differing of time, and driving from one hour to an other, so that at last sudden death come to the fathers, and no provision was made for the daughters. So that some were covered under the earth, after their death, & others buried with forgetfulness, being alive. Either I lie, or else I have red in the laws of the Rhodians these words.  
We command the father in marrying ten sons, to travail but one day: but to marry one virtuous daughter let him travail ten years, yea and hazard his body in the water up to the chin, sweat drops of of blood, altar the stomach, disherit all his sons, lose his goods, and adventure his person. These words in this law were pitiful for the daughters, & no less grave for the sons. For ten sons by the law of men, are bound to go over all the world: but the daughter by this good law, ought not to go out of the house. I say moreover, that as things unstable threat falling, so likewise it chanceth to young damosels, which thinketh all their time lost and superfluous, unto the day of their marriage. Homer saith, it was the custom of ladies of Grece to count the years of their life, not from the time of their birth, but from the time of their marriage. As if one demanded a Grecian her age, she would answer .20. years, if it were .20. sith she was married: though it were .60. years sith she was borne. Affirming after they had a house to govern and to command, that day she beginneth to live. The Melon after it is ripe, and abideth still in the garden, cannot escape, but either it must be gathered, or else it rotteth. I say the maiden that tarrieth long till she be married, can not escape either to be taken, or infamed. I will say no more As soon as the grapes be ripe, it behoveth that they be gathered: so it is necessary that the woman that is come to perfect age be married. And the father that doth this, casteth peril out of his house, bringeth himself out of care, and getteth much contentation of his daughter.   

¶ Of a letter which the Emperor Marcus Aurelius sent to Piramon his especial friend, to comfort him in his troubles. Cap. seven.  
Mark orator Roman, borne at mount Celio, to Piramon of Lion, my great friend, desireth health to thy person, and strength and virtue against thy sinister fortune. In the third kalends of Ianuarye I received thy letter, whereby I perceive thou hast received one of mine. I regard not much thy words, but I esteem greatly thy meaning. So that without declaring thereof, I have gathered the sentence. Reason would, because I have written so often to thee, that thou shouldst the better understand me: but thou art so slothful, that though I call thee, thou wilt not hear: nor though I strike thee, thou wilt not feel. But now to come to the purpose. Thou knowest Piramon how near we be in parentage, ancient in friendship, steadfast in love, and tender of hearts, & how faithful in all things, wherein one true friend might prove another. Thou remember'st well, when we were at Rhodes, that we dwelled together in one house, and did eat at one table: & all that thou thoughtest, I did it in effect: and that I said, thou never gainesaydest. Certainly thou were in my heart, and I in thine entrails. I was thine, and thou were mine. We being together, it seemed to all other that we were but one, & of one wil What a matter is this? Thou writest how thou art heavy, & yet thou dost not tell the cause why. Thou complainest that thou art almost dead, and thou showest me not who taketh from the thy life. If thou wilt not show to me thy troubles, sith thou art my friend, I will thou know that I demand it of right. If thou wilt not, I will that thou know, that the pitiful gods have determined, that all pleasures & joy shall depart from my house: and that all heaviness & sorrows shall be lodged in my person. Sith I am prince of all honour in tribulation, if thou wouldst, thou canst not escape out of my siegnory. For if thou complain that thou art unhappy in fortune, than I esteem myself to be happy in unhappiness. I demand one thing of thee: when hast thou seen me have sufficient, and thou need? when hast thou seen me sleep, and thou wake? and when hast thou travailed, and I rested? Of troth sith the goods and persons are their own proper, the travails and evil adventures are always common One thing thou oughtest to know, if in mine amity thou wilt persever, that all my goods are thine, & all thine evils are mine, sith thou was borne to pleasure, & I to trouble. I say not this fainyngly: for thou haste had experience of me that when Maria thy sister died (who was no less virtuous than fair) thou perceivedst well when she was with earth covered dead, I was with sorrows overwhelmed alive, and at the sown of my tears thine eyes danced. Sith thou hast such confidence in my person, surely thou mayst discover to me thy pain. Yet as often as I have demanded, there hath no famed excuses wanted. I require thee, and desire the again, and in the name of the Gods I pray thee, and in their names I conjure thee, that thou power all thy sorrows into mine entrails. For from that way that thou goest, I will not departed one jot: if thou goest, I will go: if thou rest, I will rest: if thou work I will work: if thou leave of, I will do the same: if thou wilt die, know thou I will not live, Look friend what thou wilt do: For thy troubles & mine, torment both one heart. If thou have displeasure, all things displease me: if thou weep, I swear fro henceforth never to laugh: if thou discharge the of thy pain, fro henceforth I shall take it for mine: if thou go alone, I will forsake company, and forthwith live solytarilie. What wilt thou that I should desire? For all that ever thou wilt I will. Thou complainest that in all thy travails thou canst find no parent to remedy the nor friend to council the. I swear to the friend Piramon, that of these, two. things I have as great need in my house, as thou hast sorrow in thine. I know well the remedy should come by riches, and by council, and consolation of them that be wise. And by reason of my heavy destinies, slou●h hath taken from me the knowledge of wisdom: and fortune will not permit me to have great riches. Certainly I weep for my misery, and yet there is but small remedy in me.  
Thou sayest in thy letter, that thy neighbours and friends in promising have behight the many things: but in performing it they do nothing. Hereof I marvel not, for the virtuous hand is not bound to make the tongue a fool. Truly our feet dance, our hands should work at the sown of the tongue: our life endeth in few days, and our renown in fewer.  
Promise is an ancient custom among the children of vanity, and of custom the tongue speaketh hastily, and the hands work at leisure. Now let us speak more particularly. Thou oughtest not to complain, in that thou findest not but in few, that divers have found in the alone: it have been a custom to receive merely, and willingly, but to give slowly, and with evil wil They that be presumptuous do the one, & they which be the slothful do the other. The Greeks say, that he that promiseth, and is long in fulfilling, is but a slack friend.  
We Romans say, that he is much better that denieth forth with, because he doth not deceive him that asketh. In this case I say, he that may give and giveth not, is an open enemy: and he that promiseth forthwith, and is long before he perform it, it is but a suspicious friend What need words to our friends, when we may secure them with works? It is not right, to whom we give our hearts, which is the best thing of our hearts: that we give him our tongue, which is the worst thing of our lives. In good so the the gods will not suffer in the place of amity, to desire any thing of our friend in haste, and to be driven of with long delaying. Plato in his laws saith, we command that in our governing, politic counsel be given to them that be in prosperity, to the intent that they decay not: and to secure them that be in heaviness and trouble, to the intent that they despair not. Certainly under these words are comprised divers great sentences. Thou knowest well, my friend Piramon, that sweet words comfort the heart but little, that is in tribulation, unless there be some good works therewith. I will not deny, but that they to whom we have given our good wills in the time of our prosperity, be bound to give us of their goods, and to show us favour in our adversity. I demand one thing of thee, wherefore holdest thou a presumptuous licence to demand, and reprovest on the other part the liberty of denying? Truly as the shamefast man should not have denay, in any of his requests being honest: so the shameless and importunate man should be denayed, what so ever he demandeth.  
Thou mayest know, if thou know it not my friend Piramon: that to attain to every thing that is demanded, belongeth only to the Gods. To give all thing that is demanded, is the sign of a servant: and to deny any thing, is a token of liberty. To weep for that is denied, is the condition of tyrants: to be unthankful for that is given, is the condition of Barbarians. And to have a stout heart, though things are denied, is the guise of the Romans. One of the things wherein Caius Caesar showed himself to be of high courage was, that he had most greatest joy, when the senate denayed any thing desired by him. Oftentimes he said. There is nothing where in Rome giveth more glory nor renown to my person, then when I show myself most hasty to demand, and she most stiff to denay: to the intent that after she should know how great my will is to desire, and how that my strength is to acquire. Me thinketh it is better to have recourse to the gods with virtue, then to displease them with vices. And to give contentation to thy reposed will, when thou seest thyself in tribulation: and that thy demands of the gods & of men be frustrate, thou oughtest to measure it with a right measure, & to weigh it in a right balance, the many things which they have given thee, & the few things which they have denied thee. O how uncourteous be we to the gods, & ungracious to men, when we minish with forgetfulness that we have received of them: and that little that hath been denied us, we augment with complaints? Friend Piramon, I am beguiled, if thou be not fifty years of age, and all that season thou haste done nothing but received gifts: and yet for all that, I have not seen thee do one days service. Certainly it is no reason to complain of eight days of evil fortune, being fifty years of age. Thou sayest in thy letter how thou hast much pain: because thou knowest all thy neighbours to be envious. In good sooth I have pain for thy pain, and of thy marvelling, I have great marvel. For all admiration proceedeth of abundance of ignorance, and fault of experience.  
Doth the quick understanding of men rule the life of them that be mortal, that they need not to think of the travail to come, having in their hands present remedy? If they be hungry, they may eat: when they are cold, they may warm them: if they be drowsy, they may sleep: when they be weary, they may rest: when they are sick, they may be healed: and when they are heavy, they may rejoice In such manner, that the careful life passeth, some to make tiltes and lists, some to make armour and scaffolds, some to invent new gins, and some to repair bulwarks. I say the world and the flleshe do nought else but fight against us, & we have need at all times to defend us from them. All these remedies are against the travail of the flesh. But what shall we do, that the cursedness of envy endeth not among all these? Cursed is that wealth, that every man envieth. Certainly against envy is no fortress, nor cave to hide, nor high hill to mount on, nor thick wood to shadow in, nor ship to scape in, nor horse to bear away, nor money to redeem us. Envy is so venomous a serpent, that there was never mortal man among mortals, that could scape from the biting of her tooth, scratching of her nails, defile of her feet, and the casting of her poison. I swear to thee my friend Piramon, that such as fortune lifteth up with great riches, she full of cruelty soonest overthroweth. Envy is so envious, that to them which of her are most denied, and set farthest of: she giveth most cruel strokes with her feet. This unhappy envy prepareth poison secretly for them that enjoy great pleasures.  
I have red diverse books of Hebrew, Greek, Latin, and Caldei. And also I have spoken with many excellent wise men, to see if there might be found any remedy against an envious man. I confess the truth: read all that can be read, and imagen all that can be, demand all that can be demanded: and ye shall find none other cure against this cursed envy, but to banish us fro all the prosperity, and to dwell in the house of adversity. O how unhappy are they that be in prosperity? for justly they that be set up in high estate, cannot fly from the peril of Scylla, without falling into the danger of Charybdis. They cannot scape the peril, without casting their treasures into the sea. I say that the malady of envy will not suffer them to scape from death, and the medicine that is applied to them, will not assure their life. I cannot determine which is the best, or to say more properly the worst: extreme misery without the danger of fortune, or extreme prosperity that is always threatened to fall. In this case to be so extreme I will not determine, sith in the one is a perilous life, and in the other renown is sure. I shall tell thee what wise Cicero said, when he was pursued with many at Rome. Behold you Romans, I hold you not for so good, nor myself so evil, to say the troth always, nor always to make lies. I am certain that ye bear me no envy, for that I am not as ye be: but it is, because ye can not be as I am. In this case I had rather that my enemies had envy at my prosperity, than my friends at my poverty.  
This Orator spoke after the appetite of them that be in prosperity, leaving to give remedy to them that be sorrowful. And after this Cicero had seen the fields of Farsale, he took other council and remedy, such as pleased him in Rome. For though Caesar had granted him his goods, yet that turned not his credence and renown. Surely friend Piramon, I know no remedy to give thee against envy, sith thou seest all the world full thereof. We see how we be the sons of envy, & we live with envy, & die with envy, & he that leaveth most riches, leaveth the greatest envy. The ancient wise men counseled rich men, that they should have poor folks near them: and they admonished the poor, that they should not dwell near to the rich. And truly it is good reason. For the riches of rich men, is the seed of envy to the poor. And because the poor man lacketh, and the rich hath to much, causeth discord among the people. I swear by the gods immortal, friend Piramon, though they that be evil would that I swear falsely, as much as riches with thought nourisheth covetise, so much the envious nourisheth envy thereby. I tell the one thing, and that is, that it is no good council to fly envy, & to avoid the virtue contrary to the same. Homer saith, that in his time there were two Greeks extreme in all extremities: the one was extreme in riches, and therefore he was persecuted by envy, & that was Achilles: and the other was sore noted of malice, but no man had envy at him, and that was Thyestes'. Certainly I had rather be Achilles with his envy, than Thyestes' without it. Thou knowest well, that we Romans search not but for rest in our life, & for honour after death. And sith it is so, it is not possible but the man that every man envieth his renown, aught to be exalted in the rest of his life. And sith I see those two things in thee, such as be my friends taketh little thought, for that thine enemies murmur against thee. Thou writest to me how they of Lions do well, and are merry: except thyself, that art heavy, and full of pensiveness. And sith they show not to have pleasure at thy displeasure, show not thyself displeased with their pleasure. For it may chance one day they shall be sorrowful, when that thou art merry: and so thou shalt be quite with them. In an evil person there can be no greater evil, nor in a good man a greater fault, then to be displeased with another man's wealth, & to take pleasure of another man's harm. And in case that all do us damage with envy, yet much more a friend, than the enemy. For of mine enemy I will beware, & for fear I will withdraw: but my friend with his amity may beguile me, & I by my fidelity shall not perceive. Among all mortal enemies there is none worse, than a friend that is envious of my felicity. Piramon my friend, I will conclude, if thou wilt withdraw thyself fro enemies, then keep company with thine own familiar friends. I wot not what to write more to thee, but with all my heart I lament thy heaviness. Thou knowest how thy niece Prussia slew with a dagger her own husband. I was very sorry for her death, and for the renown that she left behind her. Flavius Priscus thine uncle is newly made censor. The process between thy brother Formio & Britio is determined by the senate, and it pleaseth me right well, that they be friends, and every man well contented. The book entitled the consolation of heaviness I have ended, and laid it in the capitol. I have written it in Greek, and that is the cause that I sent it not to thee. But I do send thee a rich sword, & a fair girdle. Faustine my wife doth salute thee, & sendeth thy wife two slaves. The gods be my keepers, & comfort thee in thy present heaviness.  
Mark the man fortunate, to Piramon sore discomforted.   

¶ A letter sent by the Emperor Marcus Aurelius to Catullus Censorius, that was so sorrowful for the death of Verissimus the Emperors son, worthy to be red and noted. Cap. viii.  
Mark the young, and new Censor, saluteth thee, old and ancient Catullus. I have written two letters to thee, and thou hast made answer to none of them. If it be because thou couldst not, I hold my peace: if it be because thou wouldst not, than I complain me: if it be for forgetfulness, them I accuse thee: if it be because thou settest little by me, than I do appeal thee: if thou hast dreamt that thou hast written, I say believe not in dreams: and if thou wilt not it should avail to glorify me, as a friend, yet thou mightest write it, advertising and reproving me as the father to the son: young virtuous persons are bound to honour ancient wise men, and no less old wise men ought to endoctrine the young people, and very young as I am. A just thing it is, that the new forces of youth, supply and serve them that are worn by age. For their long experience instructeth our tender age, and natural ignorance. Youth is evil applied, when it aboundeth in force of the body, & wanteth the virtues of the mind: and age is honoured, wherein the force dieth outward, whereby virtues quickeneth the more inward. We may see the tree, when the fruit is gathered, the leaves fall, and when flowers dry, then more green and perfect are the roots. I mean, that when the first season of youth is passed, which is the Summer time: then cometh age called Winter, and purifieth the fruit of the flesh, and the leaves of favour fall, the flowers of delight whither, and the wines of hope dry outward, than it is right, that much better are the roots of good works within. They that be old and ancient, aught to praise their good works, rather than their white hears. For honour ought to be given for the good life, and not for the white head. Glorious is that common wealth, and fortunate is that prince, that is lord of young men to travail, and ancient persons to council. As to regard the sustaining of the naturality of the life, in likewise aught to be considered the policy of governance, the which is: that all the fruits come nor dry not all at once, but when one beginneth, another faileth. And in this manner, ye that be ancient teaching us, and we be obedient, as old fathers and young pullets, being in the nest of the Senate: Of some their feathers falling, and other young feathered: and where as the old fathers can not fly, their travails are maintained by their tender children. Friend Catullus, I purposed not to write one line this year, because my pen was troubled with thy sloth: but the weakness of my spirit, and the great peril of mine offices, always called on me to demand thy council. This privilege the old wise men hold in their houses where they dwell. They are always lords over them that be simple, and are slaves to them that be wise. I think thou hast forgotten me, thinking that sith the death of my dear son Verissimus, the time hath been so long, that I should forget it. Thou hast occasion to think so, for many things are cured in time, which reason can not help. But in this case I can not tell which is the greatest, thy trumpery, or my dolour. I swear to thee by the gods immortal, that the hungry worms are not so puissant in the entrales of the unhappy child: as the bitter sorrows are in the heavy heart of the woeful father. And it is no comparison, for the son is dead but one time, and the heavy father dieth every moment. What wilt thou more that I should say? But that one ought to have envy of his death, and compassion of my life, because in dying he liveth, and in the living I die. In the mischances of life, and in the great unconstancy of fortune, whereas her guiles profiteth but little, and her strength less, I think the best remedy is to feel it as a man, and dissimule it as discrete and wise. If all things as they be felt at heart, should be showed outward with the tongue, I think that the winds should break the heart with sighings, and water all the earth with weeping. O if the corporal eyes saw the sorrow of the heart, I swear to thee, they should see more of a drop of blood sweating within, than all the weeping that appeareth without. There is no comparison of the great dolours of the body, to the least grief of the mind. For all travail of the body, men may find some remedy: but if the heavy heart speak, it is not heard: if it weep, it is not seen: if it complain, it is not believed. What shall the poor heart do? Abhor the life, wherewith it dieth: and desire death, wherewith it liveth. The high virtues among noble virtuous people, consist not all only to suffer the passions of the body, but also to dissimule them of the soul. They be such, that altar the humours, and show it not outward: they bring a fever without altering of the poulce, they altar the stomach, they make us to kneel to the earth, to suffer the water up to the mouth, and to take death without leaving of the life: and finally they length our life, to the intent that we should have no more travail, and denieth us our grave, to the intent that we should not rest. But considering, as I am troubled with sorrows, so am I void of consolations: for when I have either desire of the one, or weariness of the other, I use always this remedy: to dissimule with the tongue, to weep with the eyes, and to feel it with my heart. I pass my life, as he that hoped to lose all that he hath, & never to recover that that is lost. I say this, though ye see me not now make funeral weepings and wailings, as I did at the death of my son: yet think not but it doth burn my heart, so that with the great heat inward, is consumed the humidity of the eyes, for it brenneth all my spirits within. Thou mayest know what an honourable father suffereth, to lose a good child: in all things the gods be liberal, except in giving us virtuous children. Where there is abundance of great estates, there is greatest scarcity of good inheritors. It is a doleful thing to hear, and greater pity to see, how these father's clime to have richesse, and to see their children descend to have viciousness. To see the father's honour their children, and the children to infame their fathers: yea and the fathers to give rest to the children, and the children to give trouble to their fathers: yea and sometime the fathers die for sorrow that their children die so soon, and we see their children weep, because their fathers die so late. What should I say more, but that the honour and riches that the fathers have procured with great thought, the children consume with little care. I am certain of one thing, that the fathers may gather riches with strength and craft to sustain their children, but the Gods will not have durable, that that is begun with evil intention: as that is, which is won to the prejudice of other, and possessed with an evil heir.  
And though the heavy destinies of the father permit, that the riches be left to their children, to serve them in all their vices for their pastime: at last yet according to their merits, the Gods will that the heir and heritage should perish. Mark what I say, I had two sons, Comodus, and the prince Verissimus, the younger is dead, that was greatest in virtue. Always I imagined, that while the good lived, I should be poor: and now that the evil remaineth, I think to be rich. I will tell thee the cause, the Gods are so pitiful, that to a poor father they never give evil child: and to a rich father they never give a good child. And as in all prosperity there chanceth always some sinister fortune, either soon or late: so therewith fortune doth arm and apparel us, wherein she seeth we shall fall to our greatest hurt. And therefore the Gods permit, that the covetous fathers, in gathering with great travail, should die with that hurt, to leave their riches to their vicious children. I weep as much for my child that the Gods have left me, as for him that they have taken from me. For the small estimation of him that liveth, maketh immortal memory of him that is dead. The ill rest and conversation of them that live, cause us to sigh for the company of them that be dead. The ill is always desired for his illness to be dead, and the good alway meriteth to have his death bewailed. I say my friend Catullus, I thought to have lost wy wit, when I saw my son Verissimus die: but I took comfort again: for either he of me, or I of him must see the end, considering that the Gods did but lend him to me, and gave him not, and how they be inheritors, I to have the use of the fruit. For all things is measured by the just will of the Gods, and not by our inordinate wills and appetites. I think when they took away from me my child, I restored him to another, and not that they have taken mine. But sith it is the will of the Gods to give rest to the good child, and hurt the father because he is evil: I yield thanks to them for the season that they have suffered me to enjoy his life, and for the patience that I have taken for his death. I desire them to mitigate therewith the chastisement of their ire. And I desire, sith they have taken away the life from this child: to plant good customs in the prince mine other son. I know what heaviness thou haste taken in Rome for my sorrow. I pray the Gods to send thee joy of thy children, and that I may reward thee with some good pleasure, for that thou hast wept for my pain. My wife Faustine saluteth thee, and truly thou wouldst have had compassion to see her, for she weepeth with her eyes, and sigheth with her heart, and with her hands hurteth herself, and curseth with her tongue. She eateth nothing on the day, nor sleepeth in the night. She loveth darkness, and abhorreth light, and thereof I have no marvel: for it is reason that for that was nourished in her entrails, she should feel sorrow at her heart. And the love of the mother is so strong, that though her child be dead, and laid in grave, yet always she hath him quick in her heart. It is a general rule, that the person that is entirely beloved, causeth ever great grief at his death. And as for me, I pass the life right sorrowfully, though I show a joyful face, yet I want mirth at my heart. And among wise men being sorrowful, and showing their faces mercy, is none other thing but burying the quick, having no sepulture. And I swear by the God's immortal, I feel much more than I have said. And divers times me think I should fall down, because I dare not weep with mine eyes, yet I feel it inwardly in my heart. I would feign common with thee in divers things. Come I pray thee to Briette, to the intent that we may speak together. And sith it hath pleased the Gods to take my child fro me, that I loved so well, I would counsel with thee, that art my loving friend. But few days passed, there came thither an Ambassador fro the Rhodes, to whom I gave the most part of my horses: and fro the farthest part of Spain, there were brought me eight, of the which I send the four. I would they were such as might please thee. The gods be thy saulfegard, & send me & my wife some comfort.  
Marcus Aurelius right sorrowful, hath written this with his own hand.   

¶ A letter sent by Marcus Aurelius Emperor to Catullus Censo●ius, of the news which at that time were at Rome. Cap. ix.  
MArcus the new E, to thee Catullus now aged, sendeth salutations. There are ten days paste, that in the temple of God janus I received thy letter. And I take that same God to witness, that I had rather have seen thy person. Thou desirest that my letters may be long, but the sshortnes of time maketh me to answer thee more briefly, than I would. Thou willest me to give thee knowledge of the news here. Thereto I anwere: that it were better to demand, if there were any thing remaining here in Rome, or Italy, that is old. For now by our evil destinies, all that is good and old, is ended: and new things, which be evil, now begin. The Emperor, the Consul, the Tribune, the Senators, the Aediles, the Flamines, the Pretours, the Centurions, all things be new, save the veretues which be old. We pass the time in making new officers, in devising new counsels, & in raising new subsidies. In such wise, that there hath been now more novelties within these four years, them in time passed in .400. years. We now assemble together .300. to counsel in the capitol, and there we brag and boast, swear and promise, that we will exalt the virtuous, and subdue the vicious, favour the right, and not wink at the wrong, punish the evil, and reward the good, repair old, and edify new, pluck vices up by the roots, and to plant virtues to amend the old, and follow the good, reprove tyrants, and assist the poor: and when that we are gone from thence they that spoke best words, are often taken with the worst deeds. Oh wicked Rome, that now a days hath such senators, which in saying we will do, we will do, pass their life: and so every man seeking his own profit, forgetteth the weal public. Oftentimes I am in the senate to behold others as they regard me: & I marvel much to hear the eloquence of their words, the zeal of justice, and the justification of their persons: and after that I come thence, I am ashamed to see their secret extortions, their damnable thoughts, and their ill works. And yet there is an other thing of more marvel, & not to be suffered: that such persons as are most defamed, and use most wicked vices, with their most damnable incentions, make their avows to do most extreme justice. It is an infallible rule, and of human malice most used: that he that is most hardy to commit greatest crimes, is most cruel to give sentence against an other for the same offence.  
Me think that we behold our own faults, as thorough small nets, which cause things to seam the lesser: but we behold the faults of other in the water, that causeth them to seam greater. O how many have I seen condemned by the Senate, for one small fault done in all their life, and yet they themselves commit the same fault every hour. I have red, that in the time of Alexander the great, there was a renowned pirate on the sea, called Dionides, which rob and drowned all ships that he could get: and by commandment of this good king Alexander, there was an army sent forth to take him. And when he was taken and presented to Alexander, the king said unto him: show me Dionides, why dost thou spoil on the sea, that no ship can sail out of the east into the west for thee? The pirate answered & said: if I spoil the sea, why dost thou Alexander rob both the sea and land also? O Alexander, because I fight with one ship in the sea, I am called a thief: and because thou robbest with two hundred ships on the sea, and troublest all the world with .200000. men, thou art called an Emperor.  
I swear to thee Alexander, if fortune were as favourable to me, and the gods as extreme against thee: they would give me thine empire, and give thee my little ship, and then peradventure I should be a better king than thou art, and thou a worse thief than I am. These were high words, and well received of Alexander: and of troth to see if his words were correspondent to his promises, he made him of a pirate a great captain of an army, & he was more virtuous on land, than he was cruel on the sea. I promise thee Catullus, Alexander did right well therein, and Dionides was to be praised greatly for that he had said. Now adays in Italy, they that rob openly, are called lords: and they that rob privily, are called thieves. In the annals of Livius I have red, that in the second troublous war punic, between the Romans & Carthagians, there came an Ambassador Lusitain sent from Spain, to treat of accord of peace. When he came to Rome, he proved before the senate, that sith he entered into Italy, he had been ten times rob of his goods: and whiles he was at Rome, he had seen one of them that rob him, hang up another that had defended him. He seeing so evil a deed, and how the thief was saved without justice: as a desperate man took a coal, and wrote upon the gibbet as followeth. O gibbet, thou art planted among thieves, nourished among thieves, squared of thieves, wrought of thieves, made of thieves, set among thieves, & hanged full of innocentes, with innocentes. The original of these words are in the history of Livius, where the whole Decade was written with black ink, and these words with red vermilion. I can not tell what other news I should send thee, but that every thing is so new and so tender, and is joined with so evil cement, that I fear me, all will fall suddenly to the ground. I tell thee, that some are suddenly risen within Rome unto honour, whose fall I dare rather assure, than life. For all buildings hastily made, can not be sure. The longer a tree is kept in his kind, the longer it will be ere it be old. The trees, whose fruit we eat in summer, do warm us in winter. O how many have we seen whereof we have marveled of their rising, and been abashed of their falls. They have grown as a whole piece, and suddenly wasted as a scum. Their felicity hath been but a short moment, and their infortune as a long life.  
Finally they have made a mill, and laid on the stones of increase, and after a little grinding, left it unoccupied all the whole year after. Thou knowest well my friend Catullus, that we have seen Cincius Fuluius in one year made consul, and his children tribunes, his wife a matron for young maidens, and beside that, made keeper of the capitol: and after that, not in one year but the same day we saw Cincius beheaded in the place, his children drowned in Tiber, his wife banished fro Rome, his house razed down to the ground, and all his goods confisked to the common treasury. This rigorous example we have not red in any book, to take a copy of it, but we have seen it with our eyes, to keep it in our minds. As the nations of people are variable, so are the conditions of men divers. And me thinketh this is true, seeing that some love, some hate, & that some seek, some eschew: and that some set little by, other make much store. In such wise, that all can not be content with one thing, nor some with all things can not be satisfied. Let every man chose as him list, and embrace the world when he will, I had rather mount a soft pace to the falling, and if I can not come thereto, I will abide by the way, rather than with the sweat to mount hastily, and then to tumble down headlong. In this case sith men's hearts understand it, we need not to write further with pens. And of this matter mark not the little that I do say, but the great deal that I will say. And sith I have begun, and that thou art in strange lands, I will write thee all the news from hence. This year the xxv day of May, there came an Ambassador out of Asia, saying he was of the Isle of Cetin, a baron right propre of body, ruddy of aspect, and hardy of courage. He considered being at Rome, though the summers days were long, yet winter would draw on, and then would it be dangerous sailing into this Isle, and saw that his business was not dispatched: On a day being at the gate of the senate, seeing all the senators entre into the Capitol, without any armour upon them, he as a man of good spirit, and zelatour of his country, in the presence of us all, said these words. O fathers conscript. O happy people. I am come from a strange country to Rome, only to see Rome: and I have found Rome, without Rome. The walls wherewith it is enclosed, hath not brought me hither, but the fame of them that govern it. I am not come to see the treasoury, wherein is the treasure of all Realms: but I am come to see the sacred senate, out of the which issueth counsel for all men. I came not to see ye, because ye vanquish all other: but because I thought you more virtuous than all other. I dare well say one thing, except the Gods make me blind, and trouble mine understanding, ye be not Romans of Rome, nor this is not Rome of the Romans your predecessors. We have heard in our Isle, that divers Realms have been won by the valiantness of one, and conserved by the wisdom of all the Senate: and at this hour ye are more like to lose, then to win as your fathers did. All their exercise was in goodness, and ye that are their children, pass all your time in ceremonies. I say this, ye Romans, because ye have almost killed me with laughing at you, to see how ye do all as much your diligence, to leave your armure without the gate of the Senate, as your predecessors did take to them to defend the Empire. What profit is it to you, to leave of these armours which hurt the bodies, and to put on them those which slay all the world: What profiteth it to the careful suitor, that the senator entereth unarmed into the senate without sword or dagger: & his heart entereth into the senate armed with malice? O Romans, I will ye know, that in our isle we esteem you not as armed captains, but as malicious senators. You fear us not with sharp grounden swords, and daggers, but with hard hearts & venomous tongues. If ye should in the senate put on harness, & therewith take away your lives, it were but a small loss: seeing that ye sustain not the innocentes, nor dispatch not the business of suitors. I can not suffer it. I can not tell in what state ye stand here at Rome: for in our isle we take armour from fools, whether your armours are taken away as from fools or mad folks, I wots not. If it be done for ambitiousnes, it cometh not of Romans, but of tyrants: that wranglers and ireful folk should be judges over the peaceable, & the ambitions over the meek, & the malicious over the simple? If it be done because ye be fools, it is not in the laws of the gods, that three hundred fools should govern three hundred thousand wise men. It is a long season that I have tarried for mine answer and licence, & by your delays I am now farther of, than I was the first day. We bring oil, honey, saffron, wood, and timber, salt, silver. And sold out of our isle into Rome, & ye will that we go else where to seek justice. Ye will have one law to gather your rents, and another to determine our justice. Ye will that we pay our tributes in one day, & ye will not discharge one of our errands in a whole year. I require you Romans, determine yourselves to take away our lives, and so we shall end: or else hear our complaints, to the intent that we may serve you. For in another manner it may be, that ye know by hearing with your ears, which peradventure ye would not see with your eyes. And if ye think my words be out of measure, so that ye will remedy my country, I set not by my life. And thus I make an end. Verily friend Catullus, these be the words that he spoke to the senate which I gate in writing. I say of troth, that the hardiness that the Romans were wont to have in other countries, the same (as now) strangers have in Rome. There were that said that this Ambassador should be punished, but God forbidden, that for saying troth in my presence, he should have been corrected. It is enough, & to much to, to suffer these evils, though we slay not, and persecute those that advertise and warn us of them. The sheep are not in sucrtie of the wolf, but if the shepherd have his dog with him. I mean, dogs ought not to leave barking, for to awake the shepherds. There is no God commandeth, nor law counseleth, nor common wealth suffereth, that they which are committed to chastise liars, should hang them that say truth. And sith the senators show themselves men in their living, and sometime more humane than other that be slaves, who else should deliver them from chastisement? Oh Rome, and no Rome, having nothing but the name of Rome: where is now become the nobleness of thy triumphs, the glory of thy children, the rectitude of thy justice, and the honour of thy temples? For as now they chastise him more that murmureth against one only senator, than they do them that blaspheme all the gods at once. For it grieveth me more to see a senator, or censor to be worst of all other: than it displeaseth me that it should be said, that he is the best of all other. For of a troth I say to thee my friend Catullus, that as now we need not to seek to the Gods in the temples, for the Senators are made gods in our hands. There is difference between them that be immortal, and they that be mortal. For the Gods never do thing that is evil, and the Senators do never any thing well. The Gods never lie, and they never say truth. The gods pardon often, and they never forgive. The gods are content to be honoured five times in the year, and the Senators would be honoured ten times a day. What wilt thou that I say more? but what so ever the Gods do, they ought to be praised: and the Senators in all their works deserve to be reproved. Finally I conclude, that the Gods are constant in every thing, and err and fail in nothing: and the Senators assure nothing, but err in all thing. Only in one thing the Senators are not of reason to be chastised, and that is: when they intend not to amend their faults, they will not suffer the Orators to waste their time to show them the troth. Be it as may be, I am of the opinion, that what man or woman withdraweth their ears from hearing of troth, impossible it is for them to apply their hearts to love any virtues: be it E that judgeth, or Senanatour that ordaineth, or Emperor that commandeth, or Consul that executeth, or Orator that preacheth. No mortal man, take he never so good heed to his works, nor reason so well in his desires, but that he deserveth some chastisement for some cause, or counsel in his doings. And sith I have written to thee thus of others, I will somewhat speak of myself, because of the words of thy letter I have gathered, that thou desirest to know of my person. Know thou for certain, that in the kalends of january, I was made E in the senate, the which office I desired not, nor I have not deserved it. The opinion of all wise men is, that no man, without he lack wit, or surmounteth in folly, will gladly take on him the burden & charges of other men. A greater case it is, for a shamefast man to take on him an office to please every man: for he must show a countenance outward, contrary to that he thinketh inward. Thou wilt say, that the good are ordained to take the charge of offices. O unhappy Rome, that hath willed to take me in such wise, as to be the best in it. grievous pestilence ought to come for them that be good, sith I am scaped as good among the evil. I have accepted this office, not for that I had need thereof, but to fulfil the commandment of Antonius my grandfather. Have no marvel of any thing that I do, but of that I leave to be done. For every man that is wedded to Faustine, there is no villainy but he shall do it. I swear to thee, that sith the day we were wedded, me seemeth that I have no wit. I leave wedding for this time, & return to speak of offices. Surely a peaceable man ought to be in offices, though it be painful: for as the offices are assured among them that be virtuous, so perilously goeth the virtuous folk among offices. And for the troth hereof, reckon what they win, & then thou shalt see what they lose. Say that is good, if thou knowest it, & hear the evil, if thou desire to know it. He that will take the charge to govern other, seeketh thought and trouble for himself, envy for his neighbours, spurs for his enemies, poverty for his rychessee, a waking of thieves, peril for his body, end of his days, & torment for his great renown. Finally he seeketh a way to reject his friends, and a repeal to recover his enemies. O an unhappy man is he, that taketh on him the charge of children of many mothers, for he shall be always charged with thoughts how he should content them all: full of sighs, because one hath to give him: fear that one should take from him, weeping if he lose: and fear that they infame him. He that knoweth this, without long tariing aught to set a bridle in his head. But I say of one, as I say of another. For I will swear, and thou wilt not deny it, that we may find some now a days, that had rather be in the park to fight against the bulls, than be in surety upon the scaffold. Oftentimes I have heard say: Go we to the theatres to run at the Bulls: go we to chase the Hearts and wild Boars: and when they come there, they run away, not the beasts from them, but they from the beasts. In such wise as they went running, they return again fleeing. I say, these ambitious persons procure to govern, and are governed: they command, and are commanded, they rule, and are ruled: and finally thinking to have diverse under their hands, these wretches put themselves under every man's foot. For the remedy of all these perils, my thought is comforted with one thing, and that is, without procuring or offering myself, the senate of their own will hath commanded me. In the viii table of our ancient laws be these words. We command that in our sacred senate, charge of justice be never given to him that willingly offereth himself to it, but to such as by great deliberation are chosen. This is certainly a just law. For men now be not so virtuous, nor so loving to the common wealth, that they will forget their own quietness & rest, doing damage to themself, to procure another man's profit. There is none so foolish that will leave his wife children, and his own sweet country, to go into strange countries: but if he see himself among strange people, thinking under the colour of justice to seek for his own utility. I say not this without weeping: that the princes with their small study and thought, and the judges with their covetise, have undermined and shaken down the high walls of the policy of Rome. O my friend Catullus, what wilt thou that I should say, but that our credence so minisheth, our covetise so largely stretcheth, our hardiness so boldeth, our shamefastness so shameless, that we provide for judges to go & rob our neighbours, as captains against our enemies: I let thee to wit, where as Rome was beloved for chastising the evil, now it is as much hated for spoiling the good. I do remember that I red, in the time of Dennis Syracusan, that ruleth all Sicily, there came an Ambassador fro Rhodes to Rome, being of a good age, well learned, & valiant in arms, & right curious to note all things. He came to Rome to see the majesty of the sacred senate, the height of the high Capitol environed with the Colliset: the multitude of senators, the wisdom of the counsellors, the glory of triumphs, the correction of the evil, the peace of the inhabitants, the diversity of nations, the aboudaunce of the maintenance, the order of the offices: and finally seeing that Rome was Rome, he was demanded how he thought thereby. He answered and said. O Rome, at this present world thou art full of virtues and wise men, hereafter thou shalt be furnished with fools. Lo what high and very high words were these. Rome was seven hundred years without any house of fools, and now it hath been three hundred years without one wise or virtuous man. Look what I say, it is no mockery, but of troth, if the pitiful Gods now a days did raise our predecessors from death to life, either they would not know us for their children, or else they would attached us for fools. These be things used in Rome, but thou sendest no word of that is used in Agripine. I will write nothing to the to put the to pain: writ to me some thing to rejoice me, if thy wife Dinisila chanced well of the float that came out of Cetin with salt, oil, and honey, I have well provided for her. Wilt thou know that Flodius our uncle was cast down by the rage of his horse, & is deceased. Laercia & Colliodorus are friends together, by occasion of a marriage, I do send the a gown, I pray to the gods to send the joy thereof. My wife Faustine saluteth the. Recomend me to jamiro thy son. The gods have the in keeping, and sinister fortune be fro me.  
Marcus, thy friend, to thee Catullus his own.   

¶ Marcus Aurelius writeth to the amorous ladies of Rome. Chap. x.  
Mark orator, Reading in Rhodes the art of humanity, to you amorous Ladies of Rome, wisheth health to your parsons, & amendment of your desired lives. It was written to me that at the feast of the mother Berecinthia all you being present together, made a play of me, in which you laid my life for an example, & slandered my renown. It is told me, that Auilina composed it, Lucia Fuluta wrote it, & thou Toringua did sing it, and you altogether into the Threatre did present it. You brought me forth painted in sundry forms, with a book in my hand turned contrary, as a feigned philosopher: with a long tongue, as a bold speaker with our measure: with a horn in my head as a common cuckold: with a nettle in my hand, as a tremblying lover: with a banner fallen down, as a coward captain: with my beard half shaven, as a feminate man: with a cloth before my eyes, as a condemned fool: & yet not content with this, another day ye brought me forth portracted with another new devise. Ye made a figure of mine, with feet of straw, the legs of amber, the knees of wood, the thighs of brass, the belly of horn, the arms of pitch, the hands of mace, the head of Iron, the ears of an ass, the eyes of a serpent, the heres of roots jagged, the teeth of a cat, the tongue of a scorpion, & the forehead of lead, in which was written in two lines these letters. M. N. S. N. I, S. V, S. which in my opinion signifieth this. This picture hath not so many metals, as his life hath changes. This done, ye went to the river & tied it with the head downwardly a hole day, & if it had not been for the good Lady Messelyne. I think it had been tied there till now.  
And now ye amorous Ladies have written me a letter, by Fuluius Fabricius, which grieved me nothing, but as an amorous man from the hands of ladies I accept it as a mockery. And to the intent I should have no leisure to think thereon, ye send to demand a question of me, that is: if I have found in my books, of what, for what, from whence, when, for whom, & how women were first made. Because my condition is to take mocks, for mocks, & sith you do desire it, I will show it you. Your friends & mine have written to me, but especially your ambassador Fuluius hath instantly required me so to do. I am aggrieved with nothing and will hold my peace, save to your letter only I will make answer. And sith there hath been none to ask the question, I protest to none but to you, amorous ladies of Rome, I send my answer. And if any honest lady will take the demand of you it is a token that she doth envy the office that ye be of. For of troth, that Lady which showeth herself annoyed with your pain openly, from henceforth I condemn her that she hath some fault in secret. They that be on the stage, fear not the roaring of the bull: they that be in the dungeon fear not the shot of the cannon. I will say, the woman of good life, feareth no man's slanderous tongue The good matrons may keep me for their perpetual servant, and the evil, for their chief enemy: I answer. It is expedient you know of what the first women were made. I say, that according to the adversities of nations that are in the world, I find divers opinions in this case. The Egyptians say, that when the river Nilus broke, and over ran the earth, there abode certain pieces of earth which cleaved together, and the son coming to them, created many wild beasts, amongst whom was found the first woman, Note ladies, it was necessary that the flood Nilus should break out, so that the first woman might be made of earth. All creatures are nourished and bred in the entrails of their mothers, except the woman, which was bred without a mother. And it seemeth most true, that without mothers ye were borne, for without rule ye live, and with order ye die. Truly he taketh upon him a great thing, and hath many cares in his mind, much to muse upon, needeth much council, needeth long experience, & aught to choose amongst many women, that thinketh to rule one only wife by reason. Be the beasts never so wild, at length the Lion is ruled by his keaper, the bull is enclosed in his park, the horse ruled by the bridal, the little hook catcheth the fish, the Ox contented to yield to the yoke: only a woman is a beast which will never be tamed, she never loseth her boldness of commanding, nor by any bridle will be commanded. The gods have made men as men, and beasts as beasts, & man's understanding very high, and his strength of great force: yet there is nothing, be it of never so great power, that can escape a woman, either with sleight or might. But I say to you amorous ladies, there is neither spur can make you go, rain that can hold you back, bridle that can refrain you, neither fish hook, ne net that can take you: to conclude, there is no law can subdue you: nor shame restrain you, nor fear abash you, nor chastisement amend you. O to what great peril putteth he himsselfe unto, the thinketh to rule and correct you. For if you take an opinion, the whole world cannot remove you: who warneth you of any thing, ye never believe him If they give you good council, you take it not: if one threaten you, strait you complain. If one pray you, then are ye proud: if they rejoice not in you, then are you spiteful. If one forbear you, them are ye bold: if one chastise you strait you become serpents. Finally a woman will never forget an injury, nor be thankful for a benefit received. Now a days the most symplyst of all women will swear, that they know less than they do: but I swear, which of them that knoweth least, knoweth more evil than all men, and of troth that wisest man shall fail in their wisdom, Will ye know my ladies how little you understand, & how much you be ingnoraunt? that is, in matters of importance ye determine rashly, as if ye had studied on it a thousand years: if any resist your council, ye hold him for a mortal enemy, hardy is that woman that dare give council to a man, and he more bold that taketh it of a woman? but I return and say, that he is a fool which taketh it, and he more fool that asketh it, but he most fool that fulfilleth it. My opinion is, that he which will not stumble amongst so hard stones, not prick himself amongst such thorns, nor sting him with so many nettles, let him hark what I will say and do as he shall see, speak well, and work evil. In promising avow much: but in performing, accomplish little. Finally allow your words, and condemn your counsels. If we could demand of famous men which are dead, how they liked in their life the council of women. I am sure they would not now rise again to believe them, nor be revived to hear them. How was king Philippe with Olimpia, Paris with Helen: Alexander with Rofana, Aneas with Dido, Hercules with Deanyrya, Anibal with Tamira, Antony with Cleopatra, julius with Domitian, Nero with Agrippina: and if you will not believe what they suffered with them, ask of me unhappy man what I suffer amongst you. O ye women, when I remember that I was borne of you, I loath my life: and thinking how I live with you. I wish & desire my death. For there is no such death to torment, as to have to do with you: & contrary no such life, as to fly from you. It is a common saying among women, that men be very unthankful, because we were bred in your entrails, We order you as servants. Ye say for that ye brought us forth with peril, and nourished us with travail, it is reason that we should always employ us to serve you I have thought divers times with myself, from whence the desire that man hath to women cometh. There are no eyes but aught to weep, nor heart but should break, nor spirit but aught to wail, to see a wise man lost by a foolish woman. The foolish lover passeth the day to content his eyes, and the dark night in tormenting himself with fond thoughts, one day in hearing tidings, another day in doing services, sometime liking darkness, sometime loathing light, being in company, and solitary liveth: and finally the poor lover may that he will not, and would that he may not. More over the counsel of his friends availeth him nothing, nor the infamy of his enemies, not the loss of goods, the adventure of honour, the losing of, his life, nor the seeking of death, neither coming near, nor flying far, nor seeing with his eyes, ne hearing with his ears, nor tasting with his mouth, nor feeling with his hand: & to conclude, to get victory he is always at war with himself. Then I would ye lovers knew, from whence your love doth come, it is this. The entrails whereof we are bread be flesh, the breasts that we sucked are flesh, the arms wherein we be fastened be of flesh, the thoughts which we think be fleshly, the works which we do are fleshly, the men with whom we live are of flesh, and the wonder for whom we die are flesh: by which occasion cometh, the reverting of our flesh to flesh, many free hearts are entangled with the snares of love. It seemeth well my ladies ye were gendered in puddles as before is mentioned of the Egyptians: the puddles have no clear water to drink, nor fruit to eat, nor fish to be taken, nor ship to sail in.  
I mean, that in your lives ye be filthy, your persons without shame, in adversity weak and feeble, in prosperity full of deceit and guile, false in your words, and doubtful in your doings, in hating without measure, in love extreme, in gifts covetous, in taking unshamefast: & finally, I say ye are the ground of fear, in whom the wise men find peril, & the simple men suffer injury. In you, the wise men hold their renown slandered, & the simple men their life in penury. Let us omit the opinion of the Egyptians, and come to the Greeks, which say, that in the deserts of Arabia, the son shineth hottest: & at the beginning there was found one woman, with one bird called the Phoenix, which bird was created on the water, and the woman engendered by the great heat of the son, & of the powder of trees in this wise. There was a tree sore eaten with worms & upon a time a blast of lightning set it on fire & burned it, so as amongst the ashes of that rotten tree, the first woman was made & found. Although I be a Roman philosopher, yet can I not disallow the opinion of the greek philosopher. Of troth ye amorous dames, ye have your tongues of the nature of fire, and your conditions like the powder of a rotten tree. According to the dyversity of beasts, so nature hath in divers parts of the body placed their strength: as the Eagle in her bill, the Unicorn in the horn, the serpent in the tail, the bull in the head, the bear in his paws, the horse in the breast, the dog in the teeth, the bore in the tusk, the doves in the wings, & the women in their tongues. For of troth the flight of the dove is not so high, as the fantasy of your foolishness is vain: the cat scratcheth not so sore with her nails, as ye scratch the foolish men with your importunities. The dog hurteth not him so much that he runneth after, as ye do the sorrowful lover that serveth you: the life of him is not in so much danger that catcheth the bull by the horns, as the same of him that falleth in your hands. To conclude, the serpent hath not so much poison in his tail: as ye have in your tongues. I accept the Roman ladies a part, for there are many very noble, whose lives are not touched with complaint, nor good fames had in suspect. Of such, neither my letter speaketh aught, nor my pen writeth: but of those women I speak that be such, as all the venomous beasts in the world have not so much poison in their bodies, as one of those hath in their tongues. And sith the gods have commanded, & our fate doth permit, that the life of men cannot pass without women: I advise the youth, & beseech the aged, I wake the wise, & instruc●●●mple, to shun women of evil name, more than the common pestilence. R●●●●ng the ancient laws of Plato, I find written this. We command that all women openly defamed, be openly banished the city, to th'intent that others seeing the sin punished, may abhor the same, for fear to fall in the like pain. The same law said further, we command that they pardon a woman for all her faults she committeth bodily, in case ye see amendment likewise in her: but we will that no fault be pardoned, committed by the tongue. For actual sin done, is the frailty of nature, the tongue, only of malice. O divine Plato, master & measure of all knowledge & science, & prince of all philosophers. When thou in the golden world mad'st such laws, in which time there was such scarcity of those women which were evil, and so great plenty of them that were good: what should we do now in Rome, where there be so many evil openly, and none good in secret? women naturally ought to be shamefast in their face, temperate in words, wise of wit, sober in going, honest in conversation, pitiful in correction, ware in their living, avoiding companies, faithful in their promise, constant in love. Finally she that willbe counted honest, let her not trust to the wisdom of the wise, nor commit her fame to the wanton youth: let every wise woman take heed what he is that promiseth her aught. For after that the flames of Venus be set on fire, and Cupid shot his arrows, the rich offereth all that he hath, and the poor all that he may. The wise man will ever be her friend, and the simple man for ever her servant. The wise man will lose his life for her, and the simple will accept his death for her. The old men say, they willbe friends to their friends: and the young man will say, he willbe enemy to their enemies. The aged promising to pay her debts, the other to revenge her injuries. Finally the one because to hide their poverty, and the other to publish their beauty, lead these fools losing their lives, & bringing their fame to end. I will leave to speak of the good women, for I mind not to charge them with aught. I ask you amorous ladies if Plato was amongst you when ye made a play of my life, & drew my picture about Rome? no surely, for that I see in your act now, I do suspect that to be true which hath been said of others, for there are few in Rome that execute the pain of Plato's law. One thing ye cannot deny, if I were the worst of all men, at the last ye see the end of my vylanies: but this you cannot deny, that she which is least evil of all you, the naughtiness of her life, I could not sufficiently set out in my life. It is great peril to wise women to be neighboured with fools, it is great peril to the shamefast to be with the shameless, it is great peril to the chaste to be with the adulterers, great peril it is for the honourable to be with the defamed, for there is no slandered woman but thinketh every one defamed, or at the least desireth to have them so, procureth to have them slandered, or saith they be infamed. And in the end to hide their infamy, they slander all the good. It is long sith I knew you amorous ladies, & you me. If ye speak, I speak, if you know I know. If ye hold your peace, I am still: if ye speak openly, I will not talk in secret. Thou knowest well Auilma that didst compass that jest of me, that Eumedes sold caulfes dearer in the butchery, than thou didst innocent virgins in thy house. And thou Toringa knowest well that before me thou couldst not count all thy lovers on thy fingers, but diddest desire to have a bushel of peason. Thou wottest well Livia Fulvia, when thou were thou wottest with whom) at Bretus, we made agreement with thy husband, thou tookest him aside and said, unless I may lie out of my house one night in a week, thou ●hal not lie quietly in thy house, thou knowest well Rotoria, that in thy youth thou were two years on the sea, & diddest compound with the pirate that no woman should serve the hundred soldiers but thou alone in a galy. Thou knowest right well Enna curtia that when the censor came to take thee, he found .v. men's apparel, the which thou wearest in the night season, & but one woman's attire wherewith thou was clothed in the day time. Thou knowest well Pesilana Fabricia that Alluines', Metelles, & thou being married, demanded openly what thou hadst gotten in his house with thy friends in secret thou knowest well Camilla, not being content with thy own country folks, thou hadst such resort and haunt of strangers to thee, that thou canst speak all languages.  
I will mark them that have marked me, hurt them that have hurted me, persecute them that have persecuted me, defame them that have slandered me, all other my pen pardoneth, for that they pardoned me in their play. Because my letter begun with that ye did to my parson, therefore I will end it, with that it knoweth of your good names. And thus I conclude, that a man may scape from all dangers in shonning them: but from women, there is no way but to fly from them. Thus I end, and beseech the gods that I may see of you that which you would see of me: and sith ye be lovers, I counsel you, as ye have sent me the play in a mockery, even so to receive my answer.  
Mark now the Rhodian, to the amorous Ladies of Rome.   

¶ Of a letter sent by Marcus Aurelius to his love Boemia, for that she desired to go with him to the wars. Cap. xi.  
MArcus the Roman praetor, being in the wars of Dacia: sendeth health to his loving Boemia, remaining in the pleasures of Rome. escaping from a cruel battle thy few lines I red, and understood thy large information. I let the know thou hast astonied me more, than mine enemies have feared me: and taking thy letter in my hands, the herb of malice entered into my heart. When I temper my body with the delights, I think my heart free fro the venom of thy amours: sith I of my will, and thou for want of power have given us to be free of our pleasures, I think as well to make a divorce of our sorrows. But ye be such, ye such I say, as be the banishmentes of love: & the treasure of griefs. The love of you all aught to be digested with pills, but the passion of one of you will not be oppressed, with all the rhubarb, in Alexandria. Ye show yourselves cruel to pardon an enemy: and ever lightly you change your friends. I have curiously made search, whilst delight governed my youth: yet could I never see in a woman steadfastness, nor reason in their love, nor end in their hate. The present wantonness quarreleth with my youth passed, because thou seest not in me the ancient good will toward thee, nor the present service. And certainly hearing thy accusation, & not my justification: thou mightest pay me as justly with death, as I pay the with forgetfulness. The which forgetfulness ought to be as strange in him that serveth as ungratitude in the lady that is served. Thinkest thou that I have forgotten the law of Venus? when I commanded that the curious lovers should exercise their strength in chivalry, and occupy their hearts in love? & more it willeth a man to wear his gear cleanly, their feet right, their bodies constant, their voice soft & humble, demure & modest of there: they ought to have eyes open always looking up to the windows, & their hearts ready to fly into the air. For a troth my friend Boemia, he is a gross lover that hath his will in captivity: and his judgement fire. The judgement is of no value, where the will is in thraldom. This I say, that thou mayest know, though my age hath left the exercise: yet my understanding hath not forget the art, Thou complainest because I give myself to much quiet, and that I have forgotten thee, I will not deny the truth, the day of my forgetting maketh the privy of my thoughts. And reason the overseer declareth, that it is not requisite for my gravity to permit I should love: nor in thy age to suffer to be beloved. The world doth dissemble many things in youth: which in age meriteth grievous corrections. The wanton toys of youth proceed of ignorance, but the vylanies done in age grow of malice.  
When I walked in nights I jetted the streets, I sang ballads: I gazed to the windows, I played on the gittornes: I scaled the walls, I wakened the youth. Thinkest thou I wist what I did in my youth? but sith I see myself bereaved of all my wont wanton toys, and polished with so many white hears, clad with so many sorrows: either I think now I was not then, or else I dream now, not knowing the way I stray in, nor seeing that stony way ready to stumble in. Unwittingly I have fallen into the stairs, not foreseeing the wherilpole: guidles I entered, in the rashness of my youth I lost me: for the which I ask pardon. And now that I am out of the briars, thou wouldst have me further in then ever I was. Now that I can not take the purgations, thou offerest to me the siroppes. I have waked all night, and now thou givest me a fresh alarm. By our ancient friendship I pray thee, & by the gods I conjure thee: that sithence my heart is rebel to thy will, that thy doubtful will do suffer, and let alone, my will out of doubt. And because thou shouldest not think any ungratitude in my white hairs as I may in thy young wanton person, I will that we account that we have gotten, & that we hope to get. Tell me what cometh of these vain pleasures? the time evil spent, the fame in way of perdition, the goods consumed, the credit lost, the goddess offendeth, the virtues slandered: from whence we get the names of brute beasts, and sir names of shame. Such be ye, and others. Thou writest in thy letter how thou wouldst willingly leave Rome, and come to see me in the wars of Dacia. Considering thy folly I laugh, but knowing thy boldness I believe thee. And when I think on this, I turn to my bosom, & peruse thy seal: doubting whether the letter were thine or not. The veins of my heart do change, my colour doth turn, imagining that either shame hath utterly forsaken thee, or else gravity hath wholly abandoned me: for such lightness should not be believed, but of the like persons. Thou knowest well he that doth evil, deserveth punishment sooner, than he that doth infamy. I would ask the whether thou wilt go? thou sufferedest to be cut as sour grape, & now thou wouldest be sold for good wine? thou camest in with cherries, & yet wouldst remain as quinces. We have eaten the in blossoms, & thou wilt be like the fruit? the nuts be pleasant, but the shells be hard. By dung thou were made ripe in thy youth, & thou weenest to be in still. Thou art nought else but rotten. And if thou be rotten, thou art to be abhorred. Thou art not content with xl years which thou hast, whereof xxv. thou diddest pass in taste, like to swear wine that is sold, or like the melons that be ripe & melow. Art not thou that Boemia which lacketh two teeth before? are not thine eyes sunken into thy head? thy hairs whiter, thy flesh wrinkled, & thy hand perished with the gout, & one ribbee marred with child bearing? Whether dost thou desire to go? put thyself then in a barrel, & cast it into the river, so shalt thou become pure & white. We have eaten the fresh fish, & now thou wouldst bring hither the stinking salt fish. O Boemia, Boemia, in this case I see no trust in youth, nor hope in age. For under this thy hored age there is hid, the pangs of frail youth. Thou complainest that thou hast nothing, it is an old quarrel of the ancient amorous ladies in Rome that taking all things, they say they have left them nothing. The cause thereof is, where you do lack credit, there ye would have it accomplished with money. Believe me loving friend, the foolish estate of unlawful gaming both giveth an unsure state, & also an evil fame to the person. I know not how thou art so wasteful, for if I pulled of my rings with the one hand, thou pickedst my purse with the other: greater wars hadst thou then with my coffers, than I have now with my enemies. I never had jewel, but thou demaundedst of me, & thou never askedst me thing that I denied thee. I find & bewail now in my age, the high parts of my youth. Of travel & poverty thou complainest. I am he that hath great need of the medicine for this oppilation, & plasters for the son, & cold water for such a burning fever. Dost thou not well remember, how I did banish my necessity into the land of forgetfulness, & placed thy good will, for the request of my service? in the winter I went naked, & in the summer loaded with clothes. In the mire I went on foot, & road in a fair way. When I was sad I laughed, when I was glad I wept. Being afraid, I drew out my strength, & out of strength cowardness. The night with sighs, & days in wailing I consumed. When thou haddest need of any thing, I rob my father for it. Tell me Boemia, with whom didst thou fulfil thine open follies, but with the misorders that I did in secret? wot ye what I think of the amorous ladies in Rome? that ye be moots in old garments, a pastime for light persons, a treasure of fools, & the sepulchres of vices. This that seemeth to me is, that in thy youth every man gave to thee, for that thou shouldest give to every one: now thou givest thyself to every man, because every one should give them to thee. Thou tellest me that thou haste two sons, & lackest help for them. give thanks to the gods for the mercy they have showed thee. To xu children of Fabritius my neighbour, they gave but one father: & to thine only two sons, they have given xu fathers. Wherefore divide them to their fathers, & every one shallbe well provided. Lucia thy daughter in deed, & mine by suspect, remember that I have done more in marrying of her, than thou didst, bringing her forth. For in the getting of her, thou callest many: but to marry her, I did it alone. Very little I write to thee, in respect of that I would write. Butrio Cornely hath spoken much to me on thy behalf, & he shall say as much to the in my part. It is long ago sith I knew thy impatience, I know well thou wilt send me another more malicious. I pray thee, sense I writ to the in secret, discover me not openly: & when thou readest this, remember what occasion thou hast given me to write thus. Although we be fallen out, yet I will send the money. I send the a gown, & the gods be with thee Boemia, and send me from this war with peace.  
Mark praetor in Daci, to Boemia his lover & ancient friend in Rome.   

¶ The answer of Boemia to the Emperor Marcus Aurelius. Wherein is expressed the great malice, and little patience of an evil woman. Cap. xii.  
BOemia thine ancient lover, to thee Mark of mount Celio her natural enemy, desireth vengeance of thy person: & evil fortune during thy life. I have received thy letter: & thereby perceive thy spiteful intentes, & thy cruel malices. Such naughty persons as thou art, have this privilege: that sith one doth suffer your villainies in secret, you will hurt them openly: but thou shalt not do so with me Mark. Although I am not treasoresse of thy good: yet at the lest I am of thy naughtiness. All that I cannot revenge with my person: I will not spare to do it with my tongue. And though we women for weakness sake, are easily overcome in person: yet know thou that our hearts are invincible. Thou sayest, escaping from a battle, thou receivedst my letter: whereof thou wast sore aghast.  
It is a common thing to them that be slothful to speak of love, for fools to treat of books, & for cowards to blaze of arms. I say it, because the answer of a letter was not needful, to rehearse to a woman whether it was before the battle, or after. I think well thou hast escaped it, for thou wert not the first that fought, nor the last that fled. I never saw that go to the war in thy youth, that ever I was fearful of thy life: for knowing thy cowardliness, I never took care for thy absence, I always judged thy person safe. Then tell me Mark, what dost thou now in thy age, I think thou carieste thy lance, not to serve thy turn in thy war: but to lean on, when the gout taketh thee, Thy head piece I judge, thou hast not to defend the from strokes of swords: but to drink withal in taverns. I never saw the strike any man with thy sword: but I have seen the kill a thousand women with thy tongue. O malicious Mark, if thou wert as valiant, as thou art spiteful: thou shouldest be no less feared among the barbarous nations, than thou art abhorred (with good reason) amongst the Romans. Tell me what thou list, but thou canst not deny? but both thou hast been, & art a slack lover, a cowardly knight, an unknown friend, avaricious, infamed, an enemy to all men: & friend to none. Moreover we that knew the a light young man, condemn the now for an old doting fool. Thou sayest, that taking my letter into thy hands, forthwith thy heart received the herb of malice. I believe the well unsworn: for any thing touching malice, doth straight find harbour in thy breast. The beasts corrupted do take poison, which the sound, & of good complexion, refuseth. Of one thing I am sure, thou shalt not die of poison. For seldom times one poison hurteth another: but it driveth out the other. O malicious Mark: if all they in Rome knew thee, as well as the unhappy Boemia doth: they should see how much the words that thou speakest, differ from the intention of thy heart. And as by the books thou makest, thou meritest the name of a philosopher: even so for the illness thou inventest, thou dost deserve the name of a tyrant. Thou sayst, thou sawest never constancy in a woman's love, nor end in her hate. I joy not a little, that other ladies in Rome as well as I, do know thy small wisdom. Behold Mark, I will not mock thee: For thou art such a one, as never deserved that one should begin to love, nor end to hate Wilt thou have stabilite in love, and thou unthankful of thy service? wilt thou serve in mockery, and be beloved faithfully? wilt thou enjoy the parson, without spending any of the goods? wilt thou have no complaints on thee, & thou ceasest not thy malice? Thou knowest the ill of women: I will thou know that we be not so foolish as ye ween us: nor thou so wise as thou praisest thyself to be. Hitherto we have seen more men follow the desire of women, than women have liked to follow men. I have seen a thousand times, yea & thou thyself, that one man hath not so mighty a heart, as to overcome three wise women: & one woman holdeth herself strong enough, to subdue iii C. light persons. Thou sayst thou art ashamed of my lightness, to see me forsake Rome, & come to the into the wars. Great is the love of the country, and many leave much goods which they have in strange lands, to live poorly in their own: but greater is thy love, sith I would leave Rome with the delights therein, & come to seek the in strange lands among the rude soldiers. O malicious Mark, O strange friend. If I leave Rome, it were to go seek my heart, which is with thee in the wars. And certainly oftentimes when I think, of thy absence, I fall into a swoon, as one that had no heart: but I never find remedy. I think our love is not like to these beasts, which have their minds only upon sensual pleasures, without the conjoining of the loving hearts. I swear to the by the goddess Vestal, & the mother Berecinthia: that thou owest more to me for the love I have borne to thee in one day, then for the service I have done to thee in xxii years. Behold unhappy Mark, how much and dearly I loved thee. In thy presence I always beheld thee, and absent I always thought of thee: sleeping I dreamt on thee, I have wept for thy sorrows, and laughed at thy pleasures: and finally all my wealth I wished thee, and all thy misfortunes I took as mine. I ensure thee of one thing: that I feel not so much the persecution thou hast done to me, as I do the wailing forgetfulness thou showest to me. It is a great grief to a covetous man to lose his goods: but without comparison it is a greater torment for the lover, to see his love evil bestowed. It is a hurt that is always sore, and a pain always painful, a sorrow always sorrowful, and it is a death that never endeth. O if men knew how dearly and faithfully women do love, when they are bend to love: and with what malicious heart they hate, being set to hate: I swear to you, ye would never company with them in love: or if ye did love them, ye would never leave for fear of their hate. And as there is never great hate, but where there was first much love: even so thou shalt never be greatly hated, for that thou wert never truly beloved of the ladies. The sorrowful Boeme hath loved thee xxii. years of her life: and now she only hateth thee till after her death.  
Thou sayest I may be eaten for verjuice: and yet would be sold for wine. I know I have erred, as one both young and light: and when I found me to stray out of the way I was to far gone, and my mishap could no other way, nor remedy. It is a great loss of all losses when there is no remedy. I have offended as a weak and frail woman, but thou as a man strong. I erred by simple ignorance, but thou of a purposed and wilful malice. I sinned not, knowing that I did amiss: but thou knewest what thou didst. I did credit thy words as a faithful knight: and thou betraidest me with a .1000. lies, as a common liar. Tell me, didst not thou seek occasion to come into my mother's house Getulia, to entice me her daughter Boemia to thy mind? didst not thou promise my father, to teach me to read in one year: and readest me ovid of the act of love? diddest not thou swear to marry me, and after withdrew thy hand as a false adulterer? dost thou not know that thou never foundest in my person any villainy, nor in thy mouth any truth? At the least thou canst not deny, but thou hast offended the gods, thou art defamed amongst men, odious to the Romans, a slanderer of the good folks, an example to the ill, and finally a traitor to my father, a breaker of thy faith to my mother, and to me the unhappy Boemia an unkind lover. O malicious Mark, hast thou not cut me in leaves, offering to my father to keep his vines safe? Evil may the chicken trust the Kite, or the Lambs the Wolf, or the Doves the Falcon, but thou art worse to bring up the daughters of good men. O cursed Mark, a hurtful keaper of vines hath the Matron of Rome found thee, in keaping their daughters. I swear, that there was neither grape nor cluster, but it was either eaten, or gathered by the. Thou didst eat me green, for the which I promise the it hath set thy teeth on edge. Thou sayest I was riped by power of heat and straw. It grieveth me not so much that thou sayest it, as that thou givest me occasion to say to thee, thy shame is so shameless, and thy evil so malicious, that I cannot make answer to thy purpose, unless I rub the on the quick. I ask the when thou mariedst Faustine: whether thou foundest them green or ripe? thou knowest well, and so do I also, that other gauged the vessel, and thou drankest the lyees: other had the meat, and thou the husks: other did eat them being green, and with the refuge set thy teeth on edge. O cursed Mark: behold how great thy evils are, and how the gods have justly punished thee, that being young, thou couldst not deserve to be beloved of thy lovers, nor yet now in thy age, thy wife keep her faith to the. For me to be revenged of thy parson, I need no more but to see the married to Faustine. By the mother Berecinthia I promise thee, that if thy small wisdom might attain to know at the full, what they say of thee, and her in Rome: thou wouldst weep both day and night for the life of Faustine, and not leave the woeful Boemia. O Mark, little care is taken for thee, and how far is our understanding uncoupled from thy thoughts. For through thy great learning, thy house in the day time is a school of philosophers, and the wantonness of thy wife Faustine in the night maketh it a receipt of ruffians. It is a just judgement of the gods, sith that thy malice only sufficeth to poison many that be good, the evilness only of one woman, shallbe enough to spoil, and take away thy good renown. One difference there is between the and me, and thy Faustine, which is, that my facts are in suspect, and yours done in deed, mine be in secret, but yours known openly. I have but stumbled, but you have fallen. For one only fault I deserve punishment: but you deserve pardon for none. My dishonour died with my fact, and is buried with my amendment: but your infamy is borne with your desires, nourished with your malices, & still with your works. Finally your infamy shall never die, for you lived never well. O Mark malicious, with all that thou knowest, dost not thou know that to die well, doth cover an evil fame, and to make an end of an evil life, doth begin a good fame? Thou ceasest not to say evil only of suspect, which thy false judgements giveth: and yet wouldst thou we should conceal that, we see with our eyes? Of one thing I am sure, that neither of thee, nor of Faustine there are hath been any false witness. For there are so many true evils, that theridamas needeth no lies to be invented. Thou sayest it is an old custom, with the amorous ladies in Rome, though they take of many, yet they are the poorest of all: because we want credit, we are honoured for silver. It is most certain, that of holly we look for pricks, of acorns husks, of nettles stinging, and of thy mouth malices. I have seriously noted: I never heard the say well of any, nor I never knew any that would the good. What greater punishment can I desire for thy wickedness, nor more vengeance for my injuries, then to see all the amorous ladies of Rome discontented with thy life, and joy to think on thy death, cursed is the man whose life many do bewail, and in whose death every one doth rejoice. It is the property of such unthankful wretches as thou art, to forget the great good done to them, & to repent that little they give. How much the noble hearts do rejoice in giving to other: so much they are ashamed to take service unrewarded. For in giving they are lords, & in taking they become slaves. I ask what it is thou hast given me, or what thou hast received of me? I have adventured my good fame, and given thee possession of my person: I have made thee lord of me and mine: I banished me from my country, I have put in peril my life. In recompense of this, thou dost detect me of misery. Thou never gavest me aught with thy heart, nor I took it with good will, nor it ever did me profit. As all things recover a name, not for the work we openly see: but for the secret intention with which we work. Even so thou unhappy man desirest me, not to enjoy my parson, but rather to have my money. We ought not to call thee a clear lover, but rather a thief, & a wily person. I had a little ring of thine, I mind to throw it into the river: & a gown thou gavest me, which I have burnt. And if I thought my body were increased with the bread I did eat of thine, I would cut my flesh being whole, & let out my blood without fear. O malicious Mark, thy obscured malice will not suffer thee to understand my clear letter. For I sent not to thee to ask money, to relieve my poverty and solitariness: but only to acknowledge & satisfy my willing heart. Such vain & covetous men as thou, are contented with gifts, but the hearts incarnate in love, are not satisfied with a little money. For love is rewarded always with love. The man that loveth not as a man of reason, but like a brute beast, & the woman that loveth not where she is beloved, but only for the gain of her body: such ought not to be credited in words, nor their persons to be honoured. For the love of her ends when goods faileth: and his love when her beauty decayeth. If the beauty of my face did procure thy love, & they riches only alured my good will: it is right, that we should not be called wise lovers, but rather foolish persons. O cursed Mark, I never loved thee for thy goods, although thou likedest me for that I was fair. Then I loved with my heart, & now I abhor thee with all my heart. Thou sayest the gods used great pity on me, to give me few children, & them many fathers. The greatest fault in women is shameless, & the greatest villainy in men is to be evil sayers. divers things ought to be borne in the weakness of women, which in the wisdom of men are not permitted. I say this, for that I never saw in the temperance to cloak thine own maliciousness, nor wisdom to shadow the debility of others. Thou sayest my children have many fathers: but I swear to thee, that the children of Faustine shall not be fatherless, although thou die. And if the gods as thou sayest have been pitiful to my children, no less art thou to strange children. For Faustine keepeth the but to excuse her faults, & to be tutor to her children. O cursed Mark, thou needest not take thought, for thy children have no need to be married. For one thing we are bound to thee, that is: the example of thy patience, for since thou sufferest Faustine in so many open infamies, it is no great need we suffer any secrets in thee. For this present I say no more, I end my letter, desiring to see shortly the end of thy life.   

¶ Marcus Aurelius writeth to the lady Macrine the Roman, of whom (beholding her at the window) he became enamoured. Which declareth what force the beauty of a fair woman hath in a weak man. Cap. xiii.  
Mark the very desirous, to the lady Macrine greatly desired. I know not whether by my evil adventure, or by hap of my good adventure: not long ago I saw the at a window, where thou hadst thy arms as close, as I my eyes displayed, that cursed be they for ever: for in beholding thy face, forthwith my heart abode with the as prisoner. The beginning of thy knowledge, is the end of my reason, and falling in: shonning one evil, come infinite travails to men. I say it for this, if I had not been idle, I had not gone out of my house: and not gone out of my house, I had not passed by the street. And not going through the street, I had not seen that at the window: and not seeing the at the window, I had not desired thy person. And not desiring thy person, I had not put thy fame in so great peril, nor my life in doubt: nor we had given no occasion to Rome to speak of us. For of troth lady Macrine, in this case I condemn myself. For willingly I did behold the. I did not salute thee, although thou desiredst to be seen. Sith thou were set up as a white, it is no marvel though I shot with the arrows of my eyes, at the but of thy beauty, with rolling eyes, with brows bend, well coloured face, incarnate teeth, ruddy lips, courled here, hands set with rings, clothed with a thousand manner of colours, having purses full of sweet savours, the bracelets and earrings full of pearls and stones. Tell me what this meaneth? The most that I can think of this is, sith you show us your bodies openly, ye would we should know your desires in secret. And if it be so, as I believe it is, it seemeth to me lady Macrine, thou oughtest to love him that liketh thee, to inform him that seeketh thee, to answer him that calleth thee, to feel him that fealeth thee, and to understand him that understandeth thee: and sith thou understandest me, I do understand thee, & understand that thou knowest not. I do well remember as I went by the street solitarily to see two. thieves put to death, my eyes saw the at a window: on whom dependeth all my desires. More justice thou dost to me, than I to the thieves: for I being at justice, thou hast iusticed the justice, & none dare pain the. The gallows is not so cruel to them, which never knew but doing evil: as thou art to me, which never thought other but to serve the. They suffer but one death, but thou makest me suffer a thousand. They in one day & one hour end their lives, and I each minute do feel the pangs of death. They died guilty, but I innocently. They die openly, & I in secret. What wilt thou I say more to thee, they wept for that they died, and I weep tears of blood from my heart for that I live. This is the difference, their torments spreadeth abroad through all their body, & I keep mine together in my heart. O cruel Macrine, I know not what justice this is, that they kill men for robbing & stealing of money, & suffer women to live, which steal men's hearts. If they take the lives from them that pick purses, why then do they suffer ladies which rob our entrails? By thy nobleness I pray thee, & by the goddess Venus I conjure thee, either satisfy my desire, or restore to me my heart which thou hast rob from me. I would thou knew lady Macrine, the clear intention of my heart, rather than this letter written with my hand. If my hap were so good, as thy love would permit me to speak with thee, I would hope by sight & speech to win that, which I am in suspect by my letter to lose. The reason whereof is, because thou shalt read my rude reasons in this letter, & if thou sawest me, thou shouldest see the bitter tears which I would offer to thee, in this my unhappy life. O that my mouth could publish my cruel pains, as my heart fealeth them. I swear to thee lady Macrine, that my woeful plaints would stir up thy small care, and as thy beauty hath made thee thine own, so the knowledge of my grief should make the mine. I desire thou wouldst regard the beginning and therewith note the end.  
For of truth, the same day that thou imprisonest my heart at the window, in the dungeon of my desires, I had no less weakness to overcome, than thou hadst strength to enforce me: & greater was thy power to take me from myself, than my reason was to put me from the. Now lady Macrine, I do not ask other mercy of thee, but that we may declare our minds together. But in this case what wilt thou I say unto thee? but that thou hast somuch power over me, and I so little of my liberty: that though I would not, my heart must needs be thine, & that being thine, thou wilt show thyself to be mine. And sith it may not be, but that my life must be condemned in thy service: be thou as sure of my faith, as I am doubtful of thy good wil For I shall have a greater honour to be lost for thy sake, them to win any other treasure I have no more to say to the now, but that thou have respect to my perdition, & draw life out of my death, & turn my tears to joy. And because I hold my faith, and will never despair in thy hope, I send the x. little rings of gold, with x. rings of Alexandria, and by the immortal gods I conniure thee, that when thou puttest them on thy finger, thou receivest my love into thy heart.  
Marcus thy lover, wrote this with his own hand.   

¶ Of an other letter which the emperor sent to the Lady Macrine, wherein he expresseth the fiery flames which consume soonest the gentle hearts. Cap. xiiii.  
Mark thy neighbour at Rome, to the Macrine his sweet enemy. I call the sweet for it is just I die for thee: & enemy, because thou ceasest not to kill me. I cannot tell how it is, but sith the feast of janus hitherto, I have written three letters unto thee, in the answer whereof I would have been contented to have received but two. from the. If I would serve thee, thou will not be served: if I speak to thee, thou wilt not answer me. If I behold thee, thou wilt not look at me: if I call thee, thou wilt not answer me. If I visit thee, thou wilt not see me: if I writ to thee, thou wilt make no answer. And the worst of all is, if others do show the of my griefs, thou takest it as a mockery. O that I had so much knowledge where to complain to thee, as thou hast power to cease my plaint: then my wisdom should be no less praised among the wise, than thy beauty amongst the fools. I beseech the heartily not to have respect to the rudeness of my reasons, but regard the faith of my tears, which I offer to that as a witness of my wil I know not what profit may come by my harm, nor what gain of my loss thou mayst hope to have, nor what surety of my peril thou mayst attain, nor what pleasure of my pain thou mayst have. I had answer by my messenger, that without reading my letters, with thy own hands thou didst rend them in pieces, it ought to suffice to think how many parsons is tormented. If it had pleased you lady Macrine to have read those few lines, you should have perceived how I am inwardly tormented Ye women be very extreme, & for the misadventure of one man, a woman will complain of all men in general, So ye all show cruelty for one particular cause, openly ye pardon all men's lives, and secretly ye procure death to al. I account it nothing lady Macrine that thou haste done, but I lament that which thou causest thy neighbour Valerius to say to me. One thing I would thou shouldest remember, and not forget, that is. Sith my liberty is so small and thy power so great, that being wholly mine, am turned to be thine: the more injury thou dost to me, the more thou hurtest thyself, since by the I die, as thou by me dost live. In this perverse opinion abide not, so mayest thou hazard the life of us both. Thou hurtest thy good name, and destroyest my health, in the end thou must come to the same physic. Pardon me lady Macrine, if I say aught that may offend thee. I know ye women desire one thing greatly, that is, to have sovereignty of us, and yet not seam so much as by thought to wish the same. Thou hadst the same of a gentle nature, though in deed thou were not so: yet thou hadst the same thereof, and an ancient good name ought not to be lost with a new unkindness. Thou knowest how contrary ingratitude is, to virtue in a virtuous house. Thou canst not be called virtuous, but if thou be courteous. There is no greater ingratitude, than not to love again. Though I visit thee, and thou not me, it is nothing: though I remember thee, and thou forgettest me, it is nothing: though I weep, and thou laugh, it is nothing: though I crave of thee, and thou deny me, it is nothing: though thou owest me, and pay me not, it is nothing. But if I love thee, and thou not me, this is a great thing: which the eyes can neither dissimule, nor the heart suffer. All the vices in mortal men are to be pardoned, because they offend naturally: save only this discourtesy in women, and ungentleness in men, which are counted of malice. diverse services by me done to thee, and all the good wills I have heretofore borne to thee, thou only lady Macrine with one thing reward me. I pray thee be not slack to help me, for I was not so to offer me into peril. If thou sayest that Patroclus thy husband hath the property in thee, at the least yet receive me upon proof, and I will pretend a possession of thee: and in this wise the vain glory in being thine, shall hide the hurt being mine. thou makest me marvel not a little, that for so small a reward, thou wilt suffer so great an importunity. For certainly we grant many things to an importunate man, which we deny to a temperate man. If thou lady Macrine hopest to overcome me: behold I yield me as vanquished. If thou wilt lose me, I hold me lost: if thou wilt kill me, I hold me dead.  
For by the gestures which I make before thy gate, and the secret sighs which I fetch in my house, thou mayest know how greatly I mind to rest: but thy brave assaults, are rather buildings to nourish death, then to comfort the life. If thou wilt I escape this danger, deny me not remedy. For it shallbe a greater dishonour for to slay me, than shame to save me. It is no just thing for so small again, to lose so faithful a friend. I wot not how to make thee my debtor, nor how to make thee pay me, and the worst of all is, I know not what to say, nor how to determine. For I was not borne to mine own wealth, but to be faithful in thy services. And sith thou knowest whom thou haste trusted with thy message, the same I do trust with this open letter, and my answer in secret. I do send to thee a jewel of pearl, and a piece of gold, I pray the gods make thee receive them as willingly, as I do freely send them.  
Mark Orator to the inexorable Macrine.   

¶ Of a letter which the Emperor Marcus Aurelius sent to the beautiful lady Livia, wherein he proveth that love is natural, and that the most part of the philosophers and wise men, have been by love overcome. Cap. xv.  
Mark full of sorrow, to thee careless Lyvia. If thy little care did lodge in me, and my sorrows were harboured in thee, thou shouldest then see how little the quarrel is that I make to thee, in respect to the torment I suffer. If the flames issued out, as the fire doth burn me within, the heavens should perish with smoke, and the earth should make embers. If thou dost well remember, the first time I saw thee in the temple of the virgin Vestals, thou being there didst always pray to the gods for thyself, and I upon my knees prayed to thee for me. Thou knowest, and so do I, that thou didst offer oil and honey to the gods, but I did offer to thee tears and sighs. It is just thou give more to him that offered his heart, then to him which draweth money out of his purse. I have determined to write to thee this letter, whereby thou majesty perceive how thou art served with the arrows of my eyes, which were shot at the white of thy service, O unhappy that I am, I fear lest this present calm, doth threaten me with a tempest to come. I will say, that discourtesy in thee, causeth doubtful hope in me. Behold my misadventure, I had lost a letter, and turning to the temple to seek it, I found the letter which was of some importance: and had almost lost myself, which is the greatest thing. Considering my small reward, I see my eyes (the ladders of my hope) set on so high a wall, that no less certain is my fall, than my climming was doubtful. Thou bending down thy harness of thy high deserts, and putting me to the point of continual service, sufferest me to enjoy the fruit, and give to whom thou wilt the leaves. By the immortal gods I swear, that I marvel not a little, for I thought that in the temple of the virgin vestals no temptation could have come to man. But now by experience I find, that that woman is easilier overcome, which is most watched: then the other that hath honest liberty. All bodily diseases be first had or they be known, and known or they be seen, and seen or they be felt, and felt or they be tasted: and so in all things except this dart of love whom they first feal the stroke thereof, before they know the way how it cometh. The lightning cometh not so sudden, but it is known before by the thunder. The wall falleth not suddenly, but first some stones fall down. The cold cometh not so fast, but some small shivering is seen before: only love is not felt, until he hath had power in the entrails. Let them know that are ignorant, & thou lady Livia if thou wilt know. Love sleepeth when we wake, & waketh when we sleep, laugheth when we weape, & weepeth when we laugh. It assureth in taking, & taketh in assuring: it speaketh when we be still, & is still when we speak. And finally it hath such a condition, that to give us our desire, it causeth us to live in pain. I swear unto thee, when my will became thy servant, & thy beauty made the my mistress, when I was at the temple, and there found thee, neither thou in thy prayer didst mind me, nor I unhappy man did think on thee. O unhappy heart of mine, that being whole thou art divided, being in health thou art hurt, being alive thou art killed, being mine thou art stolen, & the worst of all is, that thou not helping to my life, consentest that death shall assault me. Considering many time's lady Livia with myself my thoughts to be high, & my fortunes base, I would have separated myself from thee: but knowing my travail to be well employed in thy service, I say though I might, I would not be separated from thee. I will not deny one thing, that is: the cursed love taketh away the taste of all things, & in those things only it giveth us pleasure, which are greatly against our profit. This is the proof of him that loveth heartily, that one frown of her that he loveth, doth more grieve him, than all the delights of the rest of his life can please. I dame lady Lyvia, thou art abashed to see me openly as a philosopher, & to know me secretly as a lover. I beseech thee heartily discover me not. For if the gods grant me long life, I am now a young fool, yet in age I will be wise. The gods know what I desire, and the force which doth enforce me thereunto. And as the flesh is weak, & the heart tender, the occasions many, the virtues few, the world deceitful, the people malicious: so I pass this springe time with flowers, in hope that in harvest I shall have some fruit. Thinkest thou lady Livia, that philosophers be they never so wise, are not touched with the sharp darts of love? and that under their course clothes, there is not soft flesh & white? Certainly amongs hard bones, is nourished soft flesh: & within the pricking husks, grow the chess nut. I say, that under simple attire, is the faithful love. I do not deny but our frail nature doth withstand our virtues. Nor I deny not but that the wanton desires, are repressed with virtuous minds. Nor I deny not but that the rashness of youth are restrained with the reins of reason. I deny not but many times wisdom doth withstand that that the flesh procureth: & yet I confess, that he that is not amorous, is a fool. And dost not thou know, although we be wise, we leave not therefore to be men? dost not thou know, all that ever we learn in our life, sufficeth not to govern the flesh one hour? dost not thou know, that to wise men in this case hath fallen many errors? dost not thou know that there hath been, & are many masters of virtues: and much more there are & hath been followers of vices? then why dost thou make such a wonder only of me? I will not say it without a troth, that I never had my judgement so good & perfit, as when Cupid blewe wind on me with his wings. There was never man until my time accounted wise, but first he was entangled with Cupid's snares. Gratian was in love with Tamira, Solon Salaminus, the giver of the laws, was enamoured with one Grecian. Pittacus Mitelenus left his own wife, & was in love with a bond woman that he brought from the war. Cleobulus when he was lxxx year old, & had red philosophy lxv. years, climming up a ladder to scale his neighbour's house, fell, and of the bruise died. Periander prince of Achaia, & chief philosopher of Grece, at the instance of his lovers, slew his own wife. Anacharsis a Philosopher, a Sithian by his father, and a Greek by the mother side, loved so dearly a woman of Thebes, that he taught her all that he knew: in so much that he being sick on his bed, she red for him in the schools Epimenides of Crete, that slept xu years without waking, Although he was a great worshipper of the Gods, yet was he banished Athens ten years for the loving of women. Architus Tarentinus, the master of Plato, & scholar of Pythagoras, occupied his mind more to invent new kinds of love, then to employ his mind to virtues & learning. Gorgias Leontinus, borne in Scycil, had more concubines in his house, than books in his study. All these were wise men, & we knew them wise, yet at th'end they were overcome with the flesh. Therefore blame me not alone, for as I have told thee of these few, so could I of a whole army. For of troth he ought to have many things, that willbe accounted a curious lover. He must have his eyes displayed on her that he loveth, his understanding much altered in that he thinketh, his tongue troubled in that he should speak: so that in seeing he be blind, in thinking dismayed, in speaking troubled. O lady Livia, the loving in mockery, passeth by mockery: but whereas true love is, there is grief & no mockery: there love spiteth his poison, & cruel Cupid fixeth his arrows up to the feathers. The eyes weep, the heart sigheth, the flesh trembleth, the sinews do shrink, the understanding is gross, reason faileth, & so all falleth to the earth. Finally the heavy lover abiding in himself, holdeth nothing of himself. All this I say, because if I want knowledge to make me a lover, yet am I sure that the works fail not in me to work thy service. And though by mishap I saw thee, yet by good chance I knew thee. I ask nothing of thee but that thou love me faithfully, sith I love the unfeignedly. And if thou hearest that I am sick from my heart, I desire the to do me some good. Sith it is only in the to help me, it is reason thou only do seek for remedy. I was greatly comforted when Fulius Carlinus desired me in thy behalf to do a pleasure, which I did incontinent all that thou desiredst, to the intent that thou another day shouldest do frankly that I desire thee. And behold lady Livia, the woman that is served with services, it is reason within a while she be sued unto by prayer. And though my strength cannot open the gates of the purpose, or not agreeing to thy demand, yet all my labours slake not to uphold thy renown. I pray the discover not the one, nor beguile me with the other. For thou seest in granting is remedy, and in hoping is comfort. But promise is deceivable, & delaying is perilous, and the entertaining bindeth. I see well that the hearty demand, requireth a long answer: but I would not thou shouldest do so. But as I love thee, so love me: as I desire of thee, so grant thou me. I will say once again I am all thine, & nothing mine own. And note lady Livia, that it is as much honour to thee, as profitable for me, that thou change these thy desires, & put in order thy disordered will. For thou seest it is much better to heal shortly, then to late, with failing thy purpose. All women observe one evil opinion, that is: ye never receive council, although it be given you in never so weighty a case. And if it be not so, then because thou art esteemed beautiful, be likewise honoured for taking of good counsel. In this sort, though my loss be much, & thy patience little, yet shall they account me wise in giving counsel, & the most happy to follow it. One thing I will say to thee, & pardon me therein. Women be much defamed in that they will take no council, & such as do assure their renown so much on the judgement of others, as they condemn well doing before. I think good if it so like thee, & would if thou wilt, that thou should do in all points as I have counseled thee. I will say no more lady Livia, but that I do present to thee all my unfortunate troubles, my sighs as a desperate man, my service as thy servant my troubled griefs, my words of philosophy, and my tears as a lover. I send thee here a girdle of gold, on condition that thou always fix thy eyes on that, and thy heart on me. I pray the gods give me to thee, & thee to me.  
Mark the open Philosopher wrote this in great secret.   
FINIS.