❧ A DISpraise of the life of a Courtier, and a commendation of the life of the labouring man. M.DXLVIII. CUM PRIVILEGIO AD IMPRIMENDUM SOLUM. ¶ Unto the right noble William Marquis of Northhamton, Earl of Essex & lord Par, your assured loving friend Frances Briant knight, one of the kings most honourable privy Chamber, desireth to you perpetual health and honour. IT IS not long agone (my very singular good lord) that I found you looking in a little book called in the French language Mesprise de la court, et lalovamge de la vie rustic, which is to say in English, the Dispraise of the Court, & the laud of the rustical life. And when I demanded of you what book it was, after your accustomed gentleness, you were contented that I should for the time have it, and look on it, and I so doing: after that I had in part overseen it, I do ensure you I took great pleasure therein, and not without good reason, forasmuch as the matter was not only pleasant and fruitful, but also full in every where of old ancient stories and wise sayings of the noble and notable Philosophers & clerks. And at our next meeting together, partly at your request I promised to turn the same out of French into our maternal tongue, which you right well accepted. And so at convenient leisure (as you may see) I have finished the same, praying your good lordship to take my poor labour in gre, that not only in such a trifle as this is, but in any thing else that I may do you service and pleasure in, you shall find me as most bound, ever priest and ready aswell for the great goodness showed unto me by your most wise father during his days whom I took as a special patron: But further having respect to your most noble sister, my most good and gracious lady the Queen, I think me fortunate to employ my poor engyn to that that to her highness or to your good lordship should seem either acceptable or agreeable. This little book then, let it come into light under your protection. And in such wise that if that you think I have erred in the translation, not to impute it to be so done for lack of good will and loving heart that I own unto you, but for lack of knowledge of the stories, which I do profess is hard for to understand for one of no greater literature than I profess me to be. Thus almighty God send you well to far, and to prosper in honour more & more to the comfort of all your friends, and me, that to my power you may assuredly number me among that sort. To the right reverend and worthy Prelate my lord William de Prat bishop of Cleremounte, Antony Alaygre sendeth greeting. IT IS not many days past sithence I being retired for a time (my good lord) into the village, and there taking the commodity and pleasure of the fair sweet fields, a certain friend of mine sent unto me a work in the Castilian rung of the lord Antony of Gueuera bishop of Mondouent, & Chronicler of the Emperor: in reading whereof I found great pleasure and profit. The title of the book is the Disprailing of the Court, and the Praise of the life rustical, dedicated unto the king of Portugal in such sort, that the better to keep and to hold the wise sentence & eruditions therein contained, I employed certain hours after supper to translate the same into French, not thinking among mine other simple works ever to put it abroad, but after that I had communicate the same with some of my friends that have knowledge of the Spanish tongue, to leave it in a corner to make it meat for Rats and Mice. Now for truth, the first exempler was so evil divided, and the leaves so out of order that I gave charge to the Scrivener that was my nigh neighbour to copy them, & as who should say to writ it fair and in order, the which so evil went about it, a●●●ough by ignorance he could not ensue the original, yet for to get a little money he sold where his pleasure was the copies so uncomely set together that I was sorry and repentant that ever I consumed the time to translate it, till at the last moved by the persuasion of Annas Regyn Vicar general, and by Peter Cister your advocate, by them twain my great friends, I thought it better to present to the eyes of all men this evil translated, then to suffer longer those evil exemplers so corrupted to my blame in the hands of those that have no right judgement, to know from whom the fault came: wherefore my good lord, under your prudent favour & correction I do adventure herein my name and fame according to my knowledge, trusting assuredly that your only name shall suffice to vanquish and set aside this slander, the which slander as enemy to learned men, seize not to withdraw those that have good will and mind to study: I say this that as me seemeth it is well worthy that work of the wise bishop of Spain be presented to his semblable or superior in learning in France, or rather above him in knowledge & virtuous manners. I will add to to this, that the grave sentences & persuasion to virtuous life contained in this book deserve to be offered to you that are accustomed to use them after such sort the every man have plain opinion of you that you are sent of God to be protector and patron of virtue, troubled & despised. Therefore (my singular good lord, as one of the chiefest of the best sort) I dedicated to you this my little labour, not that I think it worthy to come into your hands, but for to be a perpetual witness that I do own unto you my service with all reverence, to the which most humbly I recommend me. From your city of Cleremonte this first day of May. Anno. M.D.xlii. A dispraise of the life of the Courtier, and a commendation of the life of the husbandman, composed in the Castilian tongue by the reverend father in God the lord Antony of Gueuera bishop of Mondouent and Chronicler to the Emperor Charles. And out of Castilian drawn into French by Antony Alaygre, and now out of the French tongue into our maternal language, by sir Frances Bryant knight, one of the kings most honourable chamber. The first Chapter. ¶ Of certain courtiers which aught to complain of none, but of themselves. AFter that the noble prince Philippe of Macedony had overrun the Athenience, on a time he being at supper amongs certain of his Philosophers, asked them which was the greatest thing in the world? One of them answered, that to his thinking it was the water, because there was more of that only then of any other thing under the sky. Another said it was the Sun, seeing his only brightness doth suffice to give light to the earth, to the stars, and to the water. Another said it was the great hill Olympe, whose height passeth the clouds. Another said it was the most renowned giant Athlas, on whose sepulchre was builded the fearful mountain Ethna. Another said it was Homer, that in his life was so much praised & after his death so much bewailed, that seven. great cities made war amongs them selves for the recovery of his bones, to keep them as a relic. The last & most wise Philosopher said, that nothing in this world aught to be calledgreat, but that heart which esteemeth no great things. O high and noble sentence, since that by that it is given us to understand, that as touching the riches & honour of this world, more is the glory of him that sets light by them, than he that hath the the cast for to get them. Titus' Livius praiseth and never ceaseth to praise, the good consul Marcus Curius in the house of whom, came Ambassadors of the Sannytes for to recover certain lands that he had of there's, offering to him for the same plenty of gold & silver: He having in his hand certain herbs to put in his pot for his dinner, answered them after this sort, you should have offered this money to the Captains that disdains to dress their own divers, and not to me that desireth no greater riches them to be lord over their lords. Deserved not more praise this Marcus Curius in setting light those talentes of gold of the Sannytes, than the Consul Lucullus for robbing them of Spartes? Deserved not more glory the wise Crates for the riches that he cast into sea, their the king Nabugodonoser for the treasure that he rob from the Temple? To your judgement, did not they of the Isles of Bariares deserve more honour, agreeing not to have among them neither gold nor silver, than the covetous Greeks that took by force & peeled the mines of Spain? Was not more greater the heart of the good Emperor Augustus in setting light the Empire, then of his uncle julius Caesar that did take possession? It is needful to have wisdom, experience to order it, cunning to set it forth, & fortune to bring it to good end: but to uphold it and keep it, had need of great strength, and for to dispraise it, a good heart, because that which is seen with the eyes is more esier to dispraise, than that thing which we have already in our hands. It hath been seen that many noble men hath had fortune so much at their desires that they have enterprised a thing almost impossible to attain, the which after for lack of good discretion were not able to keep it. Whereby it is to be understand that the greatness of the heart doth not consist somuch in obtaining the thing that we desire to have, as it is to set light, & contemn that that one loves best. Apolonius Thyaneus, did he not despise his own proper country & travailed throughout all Asia for to go to see the Philosopher Hyarchis in Y●●e? Aristotle leaving the familiacitie he had with Alexander, returned to his own house for to rede Philosophy. N●●●●●s nothing extemed the treasure that the great king Cyrus gave him for to follow him in the wars. The Philosopher Anatillus refused three times the principality of Athenes, saying: he had rather be servant to the good, than a chastiser of the evil. Cecilius Metellus a valiant captain Roman, neither would accept the estate of Dictator that to him was given, nor the office of Consul that to him was offered: saying, that he would eat in rest, that which with great travail he had got in the war. Themperour Dyoclecian (as it is manifest) forsook with his free will the Empire, for no other cause, but to i'll the brute of the common speech, and to live in rest at home. Worthy is he to be praised that hath the heart to care little for an Empire or a realm: but yet more is he worthy that can set light by himself and not to be governed by his own will: for there is no man in this world, but that he is more in love with that he desireth, then with that he hath: but how covetous or ambitious so ever any man be, if he travail x. days for that which he hath, he will bestow an hundredth to obtain that which he desireth, because that we do not bestow our labour as we should, but we stow it after our desires. If we do travail, if we be troubled, if we cannot sleep, it is not for necessity, but for to satisfy our will and appetite. And that is worst of all, we not contenting ourselves with that we can: do procure to can that that we desire. O how many have we seen in the court of princes, to whom it had been better for them that they had been no lords of their will, & less of their desires, because sithence they did that they might & desired, began to do that they aught not to do? If the man the offends us aught to ask pardon, let every man ask pardon to himself before any other, for in my life I found never none that hurt me so much as myself, I have been only the procurer of mine own hurt. Who made me fall into pride, but mine only presumpsion and fondness? Who durst have prisoned my sorrowful heart with envy, but lack of natural government? who dared have inflamed mine inwards with the fire of ire, if it had not been my great impatience? what is the cause I am so great a gurmander, but that my bringing up was to delicate? what is the cause I have not departed with my goods to the poor and needy, but the excessive love I had to my riches? who gave leave to my flesh to rise against my foolish desire, if my heart had not been fixed in voluptuous pleasures? O my soul, of all this damage & open faults, to whom do you lay the blame, but to mine own sensuality? Great folly it is, the thief being within the house, to seek for him without: even so it is with us a manifest fault of experience, when seeing in us the blame, and yet charge another with the occasion: by this we aught to perceive that we shall never cease to complain until the time we begin to amend. O, how often & many times hath virtue fought with the bottom of our consciences, which stirred us to be good, and our sensulitie resisted, which is vain frowardness, by the which battle followed a dark corrupt judgement: but to conclude, we of ourselves as of ourselves are very miserable. The Poet Ovid rehearseth the loving Philis the Rhodian complaining of herself & sayeth: O Demophon, if I had not bestowed time to love thee, and silver, and ships, for thexpedition of thy voyage, thou dared not well to have go, nor I to have bewailed thy departing, in such wise that with my own weapons was my body wounded. If we believe josephus in that he did write of Maryana, & Homer, in that he said of Helen, Plutarch in that he spoke of Cleopatra. Virgil of the queen Dydo, Theophrast of Pollysene, Xanthippe of Cammilla, Assenarius of Clodia: All these ladies & excellent princes never found themselves so deceived by their lovers as they were by believing their own proper counsels, and lightly consenting to the same. If to Suetone, Xanthippe and Plutarch we will give credit & believe those things that they declare of Pomp, Pyrrhus, Hannyball, & the Consul Marius, of the Dictator Caesar, of Mark Antony & many others we shall find they blamed not fortune so much to be vanquished by others, as in their prosperity they were ruled by their own advise and counsels. It is true, that often times the opinion of our kin & friends maketh us to enter into business out of the way of reason, not caring but for a foolish advancement of goods and riches. And at the end when by their setting forth one hath enterprised a certain business of importance which doth require aid and help, those same be the last that showeth themselves helping friends: which is the occasion many times that men cannot return from enterprising such things as neither shall grow to their honour nor profit. Many men say that they have enemies, recounting them often without finding number: Although it be true if it be well noted, that none have oftener or a greater enemy than himself. And the most greatest danger that I see, is that under the shadow to prefer & make better myself, myself is the cause of my destruction. The Philosopher Neotidas on a time being asked which was the best counsel that a man might take? He answered, the counsel of others with the dispraising of his own: and he showeth the cause, for that the corruption of man is such, that often he searcheth in himself with great pain, that which in the head of another, he findeth with great ease: than it followeth, that in the best time of our life our own life deceiveth us, the evil cometh forth on every side, heavy thoughts overtaketh us our friends leaveth us, persecutors tormenteth us, troubles maketh an end of us, and ambition burieth us. If we behold this thing: what we be: whereof we be: and wherefore we be, we shall find that our beginning is oblivion, our middle age travail, the end sorrow, and altogether an open error. Then see how heavy is the courtier's life, as also how dangerous the way is, where as be stones to stumble at, mire to stick fast in, ice for to fall on, path ways for to loose him in, water for to pass thorough, thefes for to be afraid on, great affairs and business to do, so that hard it is for any to go there as they would, and more harder to arrive there as they desire. All these things have we said, to the intent that the Courtiers may understand that neither I nor they can choose the good way and leave the evil, void that that hurts us, and conserve that which profiteth us, follow reason and pluck away the occasion: but if by chaunse some good fall to us, we thank fortune, and if evil come to us, than we do put the fault in her. The ii Chapter ¶ How that none aught to counsel another to go to the court nor when he is there to come from it, but every man to choose the life that best he liketh. ARistarch the great Philosopher of Theban, said that time and man was so divers, that hard it was for the most wisest to choose that to them was good, and to keep them from that to them is evil. There is nothing more true, for we see daily, with the same that one is healed, another falls sick: with that that one waxeth better, another waxeth worse: with that that one is amended, another is put down: and to conclude, with that little thing that one is content withal another is in despair. The learned Alchymus was by his Moecoenas king Demetrius, asked wherein specially did consist the greatest travail of the world? He answered, there is few things but in them there is either travail or suspicion, but above all the most excessive travail that a man may have, is never to be satisfied: And that this is true, we perceive that when a little thing contenteth us, how little soever it be, we make it our paradise with the rest of our life: which seldom chanceth to few men, because that living as we live, not being contented, would assay & know if it were good to be a king, a prince, a knight, a married man, a religious or a merchant, a laborer, a shepherd, or of some other estate. And at the end, when all is proved, it shall be hard to find where we would rest, so unconstant is the lightness of men. The wise determineth y● to chose the best is the mean. A simple creature is lightly contented with a small thing, but he that hath a great heart, thinks that poverty is a grievous life, like as they that be of high estate fear the fall of fortune. Plato was in his young years very worldly, as he that had seen much, aswell in the wars as in offices, in which he was used, and also in handy crafts. On a time it was asked him wherein he had found most quietness and rest? He answered there is no estate of life wherein is not mutability, there is no honour where is peril, no riches where is no travail, no prosperity but it endeth, nor also pleasure but faileth: but when all is said, I never found so much quietness of mind, as since I left mine offices in Cities, withdrawing me to my books: signifying, that as long as we live servants of the world, we desire all,, we prove all, we procure all, than all things well seen & tasted, all things do annoy us: the greatest part of our disquietness cometh hereof, that the abundance we have, seemeth to us little, and the little of others, seemeth to us much. We say that our wealth is travail, and that the evil hap of others is rest: we condemn others acts and we allow our own: we watch to get somewhat, and suddenly we sleep to lose it again: we immagyn that all men lives content, & we alone needy: And yet the worst is, we believe that that we dream, and put not our trust in that that we see before our eyen. What way one aught to follow or what estate he aught to choose, none can well know nor counsel, because the thing is so troublesome and without good judgement, by which many is deceived? If the sailing on the sea be dangerous, so is the walking on the earth troublous. As touching our life, we see that he that is whole, daily falls sick, the sick dieth, some other scapeth deadly dangers, and some others lingers forth to death. As touching the walfaring men, assoon cometh he to his lodging that goeth foftly, as he that goeth hastily and loseth his way. He that is in favour, living in slothful rest, had as much need of upholding, as he that continually sweats in travail. Therefore I conclude, that there is nothing in this world so certain, as that all things is uncertain. Then let us return to that we spoke of: It is said that it is fearful, to counsel any to marry, to study, to go to the war, or to take upon him any other thing, then that he is called to: because in this case none is so apt to receive, that to him is said as he is to receive that which he is naturally inclined to. Plutarche greatly praiseth in his book of the common wealth, the good Philosopher Plato (and not without cause) for he used a great policy, which was that there was no young man entered into his school, but first he would prove him whether he was inclined to learning or no, so that those that he thought not apt to study, he sent them back, causing them to use their lives in the common wealth. Alcibiades the Greek man be a sufficient witness unto you, which although he was young brought to the school, and taught of a discrete master, yet notwithstanding his inclination was such, that he professed himself wholly to the wars. To him that is born to wear a sword by his side, it seemeth him ill to wear a tippet about his neck, and he that loveth to keep sleep, the court is nothing fit for him. To her that desireth marriage, it is hard to keep her chaste: He that loveth to be a barber, why should he be made a Painter. To counsel our friend to learn a craft for to live by, is but well done: but especially to appoint him what craft he aught to learn, that me thinketh worthy to be reproved: which brought the laws of the Lacedæmonians, the Lacedæmonians commanding to the fathers upon great pains, to put none of their children to no craft, till they were xiiii years of age to see that in the age of discretion what their nature was inclined to. Let us leave this long communicasion, and speak of that we aught to advertise the redar of: to counsel any to leave the court, such counsel I think not best to give, nor yet wisdom for other to take, seeing that there is doubt to counsel any in that they aught to do: Howbeit mine advice is, that the sage people chose to live in a quiet state, and to devil in such a place, that he may lead a life without reproach, & christianly to die. Oftentimes men do remove from one country to another, from one town to another, from one street, from one house, from one company to another: but to conclude, if that he had pain in the one, he doth complain himself utterly of the wrongs of the others: And this is the reason, because he layeth the fault to the nature of the country, which nothing else is but his own evil nature. What more shall we say, but in Courts, in cities, in villages, and in other places, is seen the virtuous and the discrete corrected, and the vicious not blamed. The wicked with their wickedness searcheth by all means to make themselves worse. And likewise doth to the virtuous with their virtues, make themselves better in what state soever he be called. As for the prelate's, there is no charge in the Church so dangerous but that a good conscience can avoid it, but a weak or corrupt conscience may soon be cast great lord, he will say that he hath nothing where with to find him: If we advise him to be a religious, he will say that he cannot rise early, if to marry he will say it will grieve him to here his little children cry and weep, to go to study it would trouble his brain, If he were counseled to withdraw him to his house, he would say he could not live without company. Then presuppose that which is said, that none aught to counsel any to choose the life he will take concerning his honour & the wealth of his life, because afterward he will more complain him, of the counsel that he hathtaken, than the evil that he hath suffered. The iii Chapter. ¶ How that a Courtier aught to leave the Court for not being in favour, but being out of it, to the intent of that being out of it be more virtuous. PVblius Minus saith in his Annotations that we aught to think many days on that which we intend to do in one day. The king Demetrius, son of Antigonus was asked by one of his captains named Patroclus, wherefore he gave not battle to his enemy Ptolemy, seeing his strength, his wit and his number of men? He answered, that a deed once done, is hard to call back again, and before a man begin a hard enterprise, he had need of long counsel. Agiselaus a wise captain of the Lycaoniens being forced to answer the Ambassadors of the Thebeans said: Know not you O Thebeans that to determine a thing of importance, nothing is meeter than long study. Plutarch doth greatly praise the life of Sertoreius in that he was not rash in determining, but grave in enterprising. Suetone sayeth that Themperour August was never hasty to get friends, but very diligent to keep them when he had them. Of these ensamples, note what daungier he falls in, that is hasly in bussinesses and quick in counsels. None will wear a garment if it be not sowed: nor eat the fruit, if it be not ripe: nor drink the wine, if it be not clear: nor eat the flesh if it be not dressed: nor warm him with wode, if it be not dry: Wherefore then do we counsel us with green counsel, which sooner shall smudder us then warm us. The wise man aught to have before his eyen a sober deliberation in his affairs, for if he think one hour of that which he would say, he had need think ten of that that he would do: words be but words, they may be corrected, but never the unconsidered deed The fault of this, is that every man studieth to speak, to dispute, to judge, but none to live well, nor yet to die virtuously. The grave people that will conserve their authority may not be testy or stubborn in such things as they enterprise nor wilful in that they take in hand, nor fickil in that they begin: for one of the greatest faults that a man may have, is not to be found true of his word, and inconstant in that he hath begun. A noble heart aught to foresee that he is charged with and if it be just and reasonable sooner to die, than not to do it: by the which noble hearts are known. It it were a thing hard & almost impossible Achilles to slay Hector: Agiselaus to overcome Brantes: to Alexander, Darrius: to Caesar Pompeius: to Augustus, Marcus Antonius: to Silla, Mythridates: to Scipion Hannibal: and to the good Trojan Dacebalus, these noble princes had never been so much esteemed as they be, but that they uttered their noble courage. Then, good advice joined with a noble heart, aught to govern great enterprises. Then to our purpose, my master the courtier saith, he will leave the cursed life of the court, and go die at home, saying, that to live in such trouble is a continual death. O how many & often times have I hard these fair words, that never were followed, excusing them only by the destiny of the court, in the which they were fast glued. When that a courtier lacks money, that any man doth him displeasure, or that he hath lost his process: God knoweth how many oaths he maketh that he will forsake all, not to leave his evil conditions, but because that his business goeth backward: but long his purpose lasteth nor, for if our courtier hap to come to wealth or that he be enhanced by his prince, you shall see his former promises to wax cold, his will and his desire to remain there in such wise the you would judge him to be naturally born ther. favour and covetousness guideth the Courtier, so that one groweth with the other, and at the end converted from the manner of Christians to courtiers. For all men knoweth that the court is a place where men may get wealth, and likewise the place of man's undoing: We have already rehearsed the occasions why men do withdraw them from the court, some for lack of money, some for poverty, or not being in favour, or for age, all these things be of necessity & nothing of free will, nor yet praise to them that so withdraweth them for the causes afore said: but the true leaving of the Court, and of the world is, when the courtier is young, strong, in favour, rich, & in health, then with good heart to leave the court, to find in other places honest rest after his degree: this is said, to the intent that he which leaveth the court, should leave it merrily and without repenting, for fear that after his sorrow is past, he would be ashamed to return to the same, where he may chaunse to have great business. The proud and unpatient men do many things in a day which he had need to mourn for all the days of their life. A choleric head is nothing meet for the court, for if he will be revenged of the shames, injuries, crafts, & wrongs, that in the court he shall find, let him trust that he shall suffer more in one hour, than he shall be able to revenge in ten year: whosoever leaveth the court let him leave it for evermore: because that if he will return to it again, & leave his dwelling in the country, he may be likened to him, that hath a continual Ague: he that sins & mends, and after returns again to sin, that sin is more grievous than the first. In likewise to leave the court, and after return to it, is so open a fault that it cannot be hide, except you will say, he goeth to cell virtue and to buy riches. To our purpose, if we should ask of an ancient man, what hath been the whole course of his life, and that he would answer us, he hath enterprised much, wandered, spoken, searched, found and lost. etc. We would say that his life hath been a dissembling folly. What shall we say then of our inconstant Courtiers that daily do the same things? which forgetting themselves, for the obtaining of a little favour, do against nature, flatter, & beg. Remember above all things gentle reader here & else where, that I speak not but of the undiscrete Courtiers that can not refrain their appetite with an honest contentation: which thing most chief causeth many sage & discrete people to give over the Court, because to refrain the will of the heart, is a greater pain then to content the body: for the body is soon weary of sinning, but the heart is never satisfied in desiring: One may know easily the complexion of the body, but the mind of the heart never, and to contenting less, for the heart at every instant requireth now one thing now another, and within a little time after forgetteth all. O dissembling heart that under a pretence to be clear and loyal, make men to judge that hypocrisy is devotion, ambition nobility, avarice husbandry, cruelty zele of justice, much babbling eloquence, folishenes' gravity, & dissolution diligence: To conclude, that every man aught to know how much he may do: If a man know himself to be ambitious, impatient, & covetous, let him go hardly to the court: And contrary, if the courtier feel his nature content, peaceable, and desiring rest & quietness, let him be dwelling in the village, and he shall well know that he never knew how to live, till he had drawn himself from the Court. The four Chapter. ¶ Of the life that the Courtier aught to lead, after that he hath left the Court. MYronydes a wise & sage Philosopher, captain of the Boheciens said, that the prudence of a man was aswell known by retiring from the evil, as in choosing of the good, forasmuch as under the evil commonly the good can not be hide, but under the pretence of good much evil may be dissembled: even much like as the Anthem that begynnes Persignun crucis and ends in Sathanas & Barrabas: In like manner the great evils have their beginning by sum pretence of feigned goodness, in such sort that they be counterfeict much like Maskers, wrapped in sweetness as purging pills, and guilt as is the Rhubarb. There is no man I think so mad that keepeth not himself in asmuch as he can from catching evil, & specially from open evil: but contrariwise, it were wisdom to keep him from that which is not altogether good. Alexander the great, causing himself to be healed of certain wounds that he had received in battle, was reproved of his great minion Parmeno for putting himself into great hazard in the war: To whom Alexander said, assure me my friend Parmeno of those that be dissembling friends, for I will be ware of them that be my open enemies. Alcibyades, Agiselaus, Pyrrhus, Antigonus, Lentulus, and julius Caesar, were so circumspect in these things that they were always vanquishers, and died in the hands of their friends, and specially because they chose the good and left the evil. Then he that leaveth the court aught not only for to see what he leaveth, but also what he taketh, considering that asmuch or more hard it is to content him having left the court, as it was afore in the desiring to be in the court: what profiteth it to leave the court weary & troubled, If thy heart can find no rest in the place whether thou resortest? Our body fulfilled with meats is led where one will have it, but the heart is never satisfied with desiring, and would (if he might) be in favour with princes of the court, and on the other side at his ease in the village. If the Courtier daily have mind being at home of the passions & afflictions that he had in the Court, it had been better for him never to have go from it, because that in remembering them, the thinking is more pricking, & the mind weaker to resist them. In the court of princes chances often times that lack of money or other great business makes a man abstain from doing evil, the which being after in his house doth such deeds unseemly to a gentleman, that they deserve to be corrected, yea, and bitterly punished. There be also another sort of men that forsakes the court to be more idle at home: And such would be rejected from the number of honest men, seeing they chose the time for their purpose to sin in the village, fearing to be infamed or dishonoured in the court, and yet being in the country lives with shame forgetting all reason. To exchue these things he that leaveth the Court aught to leave his percialitie that he hath followed, & to forget all passions: otherwise he shall lament the sweet bitterness that he leves, & weep the life that he hath begun. This is true, that in the court are more occasions given to destroy a man, then are at home in his own house to save him. It is a small profit to the courtier the changing of his dwelling, unless by the same means he change his conditions. When the courtier saith I will withdraw me to my country and go die at home, that is well said: but this shall suffice that he honestly withdraw himself, without determing there die. This mortal life is to us so prescript, that we aught not to pursue it with sorrow, but that we are bound to amend it. When job said Tedet animam meam vite me, it was not for that his life wearied him, but because he did not amend it. Whosoever leaveth the court may be bold to say that he goeth not to die: but may well think he hath escaped from a fair prison from a confused life, from a dangerous sickness, from a suspicious conversation, from a great sepulchre, & from a marvel without end. The wisest being in the court may say every day that they die, & at their houses in the country that they live. And the reason is: that being in the court, those necessary things that are to be done in the world, cannot be done as they would, nor when they would, for lack of liberty. Yet I will not say, but many in the court do their devor to do as they would, but I dare affirm that for x. pound weight they have of honest will, they have not half an ounce of honest liberty. Likewise, let him that forsakes the Court set a wise order in such business that he hath to do, calling to mind that to go home to his country needs no long journey, but to despoil himself of the evil clotheses of the Court needs a wonder long time. For like as vices increase in a man little and little, so is it meet to root them out by little and little. This aught the courtier to do that minds to rule himself, pluck up by little pieces the most notable faults that are in him, and so prettily dispatch himself of one vice to day, & from another to morrow, in such sort that when one vice takes his leave and is go, strait way a virtue do enter in his stead, so that in process he may go from good to better. The courtier is in nothing more deceived then in living a wild & wanton life, peraventure the space of twenty or xxx years, thinketh in a year or two to become sage & grave, aswell as though he applied all his life in a sober and sad life, & truly that happeneth for lack of good judgement, for it behoveth without comparison a longer time for to learn to cast away vice, then to learn virtue: considering that vices enter our gates laughing and goeth out from our house weeping & lamenting. O how much grieveth it the ambitious courtier, when he can not command as he was wont to do? then it may be said, that to forsake the court is requisite to a good heart, & a good wit to obtain rest. Those that leave the Court for faint heart, be of that nature that it is more painful to them to see themselves absent from the Court, than their joy was when they were in the court: which said people if they would follow mine advice and counsel should not only leave the court, but forget it utterly for ever. And farther, the courtier aught to retire in such manner that he may come to the Court again, if the fear and study in ordering of his household constrain him eftsoons for to desire the voluptuousness of the court. In the heart of the prudent courtier that forsaketh the court, when there falls bishoprics or other great offices, the affections & desires of the mind ryngeth alarm, when he shall think if I had not come away so soon, that office or that dignity had been mine: but he again remembering that many such things hath fallen which he had not: so like wise might he have in the stead of you, a plain nay, of that which fallen when he was go. Then, is it not much better to overse and travail his own house then to have such a shameful denial in the court? Therefore destinies of the courtiers are so prompt and ready that for the most part one is constrained to despise them more by necessity, then by will, and in that mean while their purpose is at an end before they themselves beware thereof, For when the Courtier cometh to be at a quiet with himself, above all things it is necessary that he take heed of pestering of himself, for if he did live in the court evil willed, let him take heed that in the village he despair not, by reason of charge, the importunity of his wife, of his children, & the sautes of his servants, the grudging of his neighbours may percase make him astonied: but to think again, that being escaped from the dangerous golf of the court, he may repute himself half a God. And besides this, none aught to think that he dwelling in a village in the country shall put away all troubles and displeasures, for it can not be, but he that never fallen in the crooked & rough way may happen to stumble in the plain way & break his neck: and therefore it is necessary that he retiring from the court, take the time as it shall come, that he may the more occupy himself in virtuous exercises, to the intent that to much rest, and to much business of mind let him not from the great good that cometh of this, to be well contented with a little. join unto this also that there is none so much enemy unto virtue as is idleness, of the which idleness be taken in the beginning thoughts superfluous, & consequently the destruction of men. To the purpose, hath not the courtier cause to complain, that occupieth himself in nothing but in eating, drinking, & sleaping, and in the mean season his better age, that is to say, his youth consumeth away, as the fume of smoke, which proceeds of idleness in the court & doing nothing? where contrariwise he might in the village exercise himself to his honour, and to the health of his body and profit of his neighbour. In like manner also, the courtier that withdraweth himself should use the company of such as be grave, sage and honest, to the intent that in the stead of liars, flatterers, & triflers which he was associate withal in in the court, he may be accompanied in the village with wise and sage friends, or at the hardest with good books, whereby in the looking of them he may virtuously employ the residue of his time, and with sobriety entertain every man, that men may say he is come from the court to please the good, and not to rule. And if percase one would make him baylief in the village or other public office I would counsel him to take heed thereof as he would of the pestilence, for because there is nothing so troublous nor so hard a burden to the mind as to take charge of the rude & simple. I do not say nay, but that he may and aught to help the poor commons of the village with such knowledge as he hath learned in the court, or had before he came there, when they shall have need, either for love or for money. Also if they be at variance, help to appease them: if they be evil entreated, defend them. And this doing, he shallbe esteemed of the commons & praised of the wise and prudent. Above all things beware of prodigal apparel, superfluous banquetes, and delicate meats, and strong or precious wines. For the absenting from the court aught to be to none other purpose but to live soberly in the village, or else shall he make of the village the court, which should make of the court, the village. And the courtier retired from the court aught to have in singular commendation mercy, as to visit hospytalles, succour the poor, counsel the orphans, visit the prisoners, read the holy scripture, and finally that he study to dispose his goods virtuously during his life, for when he shallbe dead, every man will claim his goods, but none will or can discharge his solle. And most chief, let the courtier that goeth from the court occupy himself virtuously to die. All these things that I have said, let no man say that they be more easy to read then to do: for if we will enforce ourselves, we are more than ourselves, & do not then well remember ourselves. The .v. Chapter. ¶ That the rustical life is more quiet and restful and more beneficial than that of the court. THE village whereof we speak and the domains thereof, Put we the case that it were all free and not subject to any lord (as certain there be so privileged) that every man there lieth in his own house, whether it be by succession, or that he have bought it freely without doing any homage or service to any man. This I dare say, the courtier hath not, nor is not in such free liberty in respect of such as be of the village, forasmuch as of very necessity, my master the courtier must win the Marshal or Harbengar of the lodging, and must receive at his hands the billet to come to his lodging, & that late enough & weary to his host, break open doors, beat down walls, disorder houses, burn implements and sometime bet the good man, & defile the wife. O how happy is he that hath wherewithal to live in the village without troubling both of himself & many sundry places, without seeking of so many lodgings, without assays of so many strange occasions of strange men, without weeping of any person, but is content with a mean estate, and is delivered of all such break brains. Another benefit of the country is this, that the gentleman or burges that there doth inhabit may be one of the chief or chiefest, either in bounty, honour, or authority, the which happeneth seldom in the court and in great cities and towns: for there he shall see other go before him, more trim and more brave and gorgeous than he, as well in credit as in riches, as well in the house as without the house. And julius Caesar said to this purpose that he had rather be the first in a village, than the second in honour in Rome. For such men as have high hearts and minds, and base fortune, it should be to them much better to live in the village with honour, then in the court overthrown and abated, and out of favour. The difference between the tarrying or abiding in a little place and a great place, is that in the little places are found much people poor and needy, of whom men may take compassion: and in the great place many rich men whereby envy is nourished. Another commodity in the village is, that every man enjoyeth in quiet and peace such as God hath given him, without to have such to come to their houses, that shall constrain them to make extraordinary expenses, or to have his wife seduced, or his daughters defiled The occasions to do evil be put away by reason that he is occupied in the maintaining of his household, in training of his daughters, in teaching of his sons and chastening of his servants. He liveth confirmed to reason and not to his opimon: and lives hoping to die & not as he that loveth to live ever. In the village, thou shalt not care for good lodging, nor for looking to thy Horses and Mules, nor for the lading of such things as they shall carry. Thou shalt not here the crying of pages, the plaints of the stuardes of the house, the babbling of the Cooks, nor thou shalt not fear neither judges nor justices jest they should be to sore against the. And that which is much better, thou shalt have no crafty knaves to beguile thee, nor women to betray the. Another benefit of the village is this, that he shall have time enough to all things that he will do, so that the time be well spent, time enough to study, time to visit his friends, time to go a hunting, and layser when he list to eat his meat: the which layser courtiers commonly hath not, forasmuch as they employ the most part of their time in making of shifts to play the courtier, or to speak more plainly, to weep and lament, in such sort that one may say of them that which the Emperor Augustus said of a Roman a great busy broker the same day that he died. I wonder said he, seeing the time failed him to chop and to change, how he could now find layser to die? Another commodity of the village is this, those that be dwellers there may go alone from place to place without to be noted to fall from gravity, they need no Mule nor Horse with afoot cloth, nor page to wait of my lord, or damosel to wait upon my lady. And that were scornful to do in the court alone: And without danger one may walk from neighbour to neighbour, and from land to land, and not thereby minish any part of his honour. Another benefit is, that men may go whether they will, clothed simply with a staff in his hand, a sword by his side, or hacbut in his neck, and if he be weary of pounced hosen, let him wear slops, if he be a cold let him take his furred gown for all is one there. A good Gentleman dwelling in the village and having a good cote of cloth, an honest Spanish cloak on his back, a pair of leather shoes, goeth as well trimmed to the church as doth my lord the courtier to the court with his gown furde with martyrs or Sables. A man of the village of what sort soever he be, is in as good case, that rideth to market or to the fair to make provision for his household upon a mare or a nag, as a lord of the court is at justes upon a great courser trapped with gold. And (when all is said) better is the poor ploughman on a poor ass, living as he should, than the rich man well horsed, pilling & doing extortion to poor honest men. The vi Chapter. ¶ That in the village the days seem more long and the air more clear and better, And the houses more easy and testfull. Ensuing still the commodities of the village, we aught not to forget that he which dwells there, among other things hath commodity of good corn, and consequently good bread: contrary to this, in the court, & specially ingreat towns they have bread for the most part evil baked or evil leavened or not leavened at all, & the cause is, forasmuch as in the towns often there lacketh good corn, or good corn mills to grind the corue, and wholesome water, whereby often hath come among them great death. Another commodity in the village is this, the which I praise mnche, he that dwells there, may practise and labour in mod things and better employ the time then in the court or in the great towns: in which places it behoveth a man to dissemble, to say little, full of revenging and envious, a treder of stones and pavementes, & must use gravity, & seldom to come out of his house, and incessantly be grave. O half a God, that dwells in the village, where liberally one may speak what he will and jest with his neighbours before his gates and his window. And this may he do without ever to change or to lose any of his mean authority Another commodity is in the village, that those that devil there, be without comparison more healthful and less sick than in the cities and in the court, because in the great towns the houses be more higher, and the streets narower, and more crooked, which is the cause that the air is corrupt and makes men very evil at ease. In the village the houses stand more at large the men more better disposed, the air better, the sun more clear, the earth more sweet, the private goods or commons better ruled without contention, & the exercise more pleasant, and the company much better: And above all things the thoughts lesser, and the pastime more great. Another commodity in the village is, that there are no young Physicians, nor old sickness: And contrary to this, the courtier is constrained there to part his goods in four parts, the one part to flatterers, the other to men of law, another to pothecaries, & the fourth to the Physicians. O well fortunate village, forasmuch as in thee, seldom or never is the French pocks named, neither the pausy not yet the gout: few or none there knoweth what is a julep, a pill, a syrup, or a Thysan, nor no sudden sickness. What will you that I shall say more of the village? And if it were not, but that for necessity, they are compelled to build there little pretty houses, you should scant find one of them that knew what to do with mortar & stones? And sometime they are very well pleased with cabons made of small sticks well fastened together. Another commodity in the village is, that thee days there seem to be more long, and they are better employed, than they are either in the court or in the great towns, forasmuch as the years pass away there or one be ware, and the days without any enoiing of them. And howbeit that the sports and pleasures be more in the village then in the towns, yet so it is that one day shall seine longer there than shall a month in the court: & the reason is, for that the village is happy and fortunate, forasmuch as there the Sun seems to make a more longer day, the morning is ready to show, and the night slow to come. Scarcely one can perceive the days slide away in the court: In the village if it be perceived, it is bestowed with honest business, which cannot be done in the court. In the village also is much more plenty of wood then in other places: hay, straw, Oats much better cheap then in good towns. Also in the village a man is at liberty to eat his meat where he will, & when he will & with whom he will: but in the court they eat late, the meat evil dressed and cold, and with out savour, and that which is worst of all, for the most part, he must eat with his enemies, where as the good fellows of the village liveth at their pleasures and without suspicion, keeping their three good fashions that belongeth to good repast, that is, first he erneth his meat next that he eateth his meat merely, & thirdly he eateth with good company. Another commodity is that the husbandman of the village hath how to occupy themselves and how to be merry, which the courtier, nor the citizen hath not, thathath enemies enough to fear, and few friends to company withal. O recreation pleasant of the village, to fish with nets, and with hokes, to catch birds with lime, to hunt with dogs, to catch Coneys with ferrettes, & hays, to shoot in the crossbow and the hacbut at stokdoves, at Mallardes & at partryges: and see folks labour in the wines, raise ditches, amend hedgees, to jest with the ancient labourers, All these pleasures have they of the villages, whereas the courtiers and citizens desire it & cannot have it. The vii Chapter. ¶ That commonly the inhabitants of the villages be more happy than courtiers. ANother commodity of the village is, that they do feel the travails less on the working day, & rejoice merely on the holy day: where the courtier continually vexed with weighty and troublous affairs, never knoweth when it is holy day. O village, it is not so in thee, whereas on the feastful day the clerk ceaseth not to tolle the bell, to make clean the church, to make ready the altars, the people honestly appareled the feasts commanded to be observed, the curate preacheth the gospel, & after dinner they make merry with a thousand honest pastimes. In the great towns the holidays are known when the wife's go gay, when they sleep long in the morning, when they play after dinner: and generally when they consume the day involupteousnes and vanities. Another commodity is this, that where the courtiers use to eat flesh and corrupt venison & wildfowl that is long kept, they of the village have their meat fresh and fresh, tender and wholesome, & as one may say, in good season: that is, housdoves, Partridge, pullettes, stockdoves, wodcockes, Fesauntes, fat Capons, conies, Hares, and innumerable victayl of all sorts. And over and besides this, to their great advantage they have sheep that beareth will to cloth them, good mutton to eat, dung to make fat their ground, and Kyddes and Goats also, with Oxen to labour in the plough, and kine to milk and make butter & cheese: and hogs to make bacon of, Colts for to nourish & horses for to serve them and for to cell when need requireth. And another privilege of the village is this, that the good shall be honoured for a good man, and the unthrifty person known as he is, which is not so in the court, for there is noman praised for that he deserveth to be praised, but because he hath authority and riches. O how much is the wise man honoured in the village for his wisdom and good counsel? how many times is he thankeo and how many presents hath he? If percase one of his neighbours have any goodfruit in his garden, a good melon, a good pear, or a good muscadel grape gladly they will present him therewith, as to him that hath deserved it. Another previlege of the village is this, that every man may marry his daughters to his equals and neighbours, that thereby daily he may receive both pleasure and service, the which the courtiers cannot do that marry their daughters so far from them, that for the most part they lament them or they see them. O happy inhabitor in the village that findeth at his gate husbands for his daughters, and wives for his sons. He marrieth them nigh to him that he may easily see his sons in law, his little nephews & his posterity: he is beloved of them, succoured in his affairs, served & nourished in his sickness, and great comfort to him in his age. Another commodity is, that they are not to much careful nor yet ireful or envious: which commodity they of the court and the citizens little tasteth or emoyeth: for the courtier many times lacketh money, when his great affairs should be brought to pass. I say therefore oh happy man of the village, that needs not to go at ten of the clock to the palice to beg counsel, to speak fair to the usher, to wait upon the precedent & make flectamus ienua to the lawyer, and flatter the king and his counsel, & the Magistrate: but hath in stead of these Idolatries for a happy solace, the benefits of nature and the pastimes thereof, to hear the sheep blete, the Bulls to bray, the Horse to nese, the Nityngales to sing, the Thrushes to warble, the Lynets to mynse their songs, dogs to run, Lambs to leap, Kyddes to gambolde, & see the Pekockes set up their tails like a wheel, Hennesto kecle, kockes to crow, & a thousand kind of beasts and birds play and sport. Another commodity is, that in the village one may be there more virtuous & less vicious than in the court or in the great citiees, and the reason is, for that in great companies we shall commonly find a M. that keep men from good doing & x. M. that will move us to do evil. And in the village every man sanctifieth the Sabbath day, keepeth the feasts, heareth the sermons, and by this means with great labour worketh his soul health assisted by grace. Wherefore the village is to be praised for that the occasions of evil, and of our destruction are not so plentiful and practised there, as they are in the court & in good towns, no cook's houses to make them lickerous: nor there are no great estates where by envy should arise: there is no chopping nor changing by usury: whores to quarrel and fight for, nor courtiers to tourney in armure, nor wanton and lewd places to corrupt youth withal: nor justices to fear them, you (and that best of all is) no covetousness which should swallow up and devour them. Another previlege there is, that there one may well gather some good, and spend much less than in the court. For every man knows well what excessive expenses are accustomed to be wasted in the court, & specially in these days, that the great apparelling of banquets is such that they be well worthy to be reform. O peaceable peysauntes which needs not the tapettes of Flaunders, linen cloth of Holland, silver plate, garments embroidered, Parcement lace purfilde, nor yet carriage, Mulettes, varlets to conduct them, nor other superfluous attire: but contrary in stead of that, is contented with a little household well ruled, with a gross table and a few plain stoles to eat his meat upon, with dishes of Pewter & a mattress for to sleep on, too gowns, one for summer, another for winter, one gelding in the stable, one varlet, one chamberer to do him service: As much happy is a gentleman and as much honoured with his little company in his house in the village, as is a rich lord in the court with his great pride, and ruffling train. The viii Chapter ¶ That in princes courts the custom and use is to speak of God and live after the world. IN the Court, even as there is no rigorous justice, no father that chastiseth his son, no friend that correcteth one the other, none that loveth his neighbour, no bishop nor curate that governeth well his sheep nor teacheth them after the gospel: So he that is by nature good, hath great liberty to be nought. In the court if one willbe an adulterer, he shall have fellows. It he willbe a quarreler, he shall have help, & that with such as will draw their sword. If he be disposed to banqueting, every where he shall find gluttons, If he will manifestly & shamefully lie, he shall find companions ready that will approve his lies: If he will steal, he shall find them that will instruct him many ways thereto: If he will play, there is so many cards and so many dise, that it is shame to see it: If one will be falsely forsworn, he shall find them that will give money for forswearing: Finally, if he will utterly give himself to do evil, in the court he shall see perfect examples. To the court resorteth men of divers nations, some for business, some to plede or to serve or to show themselves, which people to bring themselves acquainted are forced to follow the servants of such as be in authority, to flatter them, & speak fair to them: and to follow the companies & fellowship of the taberers, the pipers, the musicians, the flatterers and merry jesters, and at the end become God knows poor and needy gentlemen, in such wise that by very necessity they be compelled to demand rewards, Newyear's gifts and new apparel. And yet to this evil fellows, they which give unto them any good thing, give it rather to get themselves a name to be called full of magnificence then for any charity at all. In the Court, fortune is inconstant, in that she promises, and yet more in that which she giveth, for at one instant, where one riseth, another falls, one is born, another dieth: he is advanced that is unknown, & the faithful servant forgotten, he that will abide is not reccived, but he that will run away is taken in: fools are believed and wisemen belied, opinions be followed and reason let pass. With these things and other semblable things that we assay and see in courts of princes, every man may be assured that fortune will knock at his door, though for the most part the Courtiers found sooner their grave then any good fortune, & specially such that under colour to be descended of a good house, go to the court to brag, and yet nevertheless are so foolish and ignorant, that it may be said they are more meet for the cart then for the spear, so that they serve in conclusion to be a dalliance to the mockers & jesters. And one great mischief is in the court, that there is ever hatred amongs the princes, envy among familiars, contention among officers and with their fellows. And among these there never lacketh meddlers & busy bodies, which profit more thereby, than some doctor of divinity doth by preaching. In the court all is suffered, all is dissembled withal, all is inconstant, and all sorts desire there to live: and forasmuch as all such desire there to live, it is impossible but there must be liars, players, slanderers, and a great number of naughty people. In the court the evil followeth the evil: The brauler findeth one to brawl withal: The adulterer one that he may sin withal: The thief a companion & receiver: The sophister a babbler: & all reckoned together, one ready to deceive another. In the court every man praiseth & commends himself of holy purposes and noble thoughts. One sayeth he will withdraw himself from the court. And another sayeth he will forget his suits. Another sayeth he will quench enmity. And when they have all said, all is but words, for the heart thinketh of nothing else but of the world. None knoweth there the one the other: The men of arms go without harness: The prelate's without their rotchettes: The priest without his porteaus: The daughter without her mother: The wife without her husband: The clerk without his books: The thief without a spy: The glutton from table to table. The vacabonde from place to place, and the bawd from door to door, and from harlot to harlot. In the court there be bishops to confirm curates, to baptize & change names: For he that is glorious gay, they name him honourable, he that spends all, full of magnificence, the coward wise, the valiant overhardye, the fool joyous, the wise an hypocrite, the malicious subtle, the scoffer eloquent, the adulterer Amorous, the covetous mesurable, and he that talketh little, a fool and an ignorant person. The ix Chapter. ¶ In the court few amend, but many wax worse. IN the court it profits little, men to be wise, unless they be fortunate, forasmuch as good service is soon forgotten: friends soon faileth and enemies augment, the nobility doth forget itself, science is forgotten, humility despised, truth cloaked & hide, and good counsel refused. The best mine and the richest Alcumet that the Courtier may have, is to have wind at will to sail with, that is, to be in favorwith them that be favoured, till fortune laugh upon him: for the conditions and fashions of entretainment changeth daily and hourly. To prove this true, Plato needs not to speak, nor Cicero to swear, forasmuch as afore our eyes we see the fool become wise, the meek, become proud, the sober a glutton, the patient a brauler, and the devout an evil christian man. In the court it is a great business and travail for to find virtue, and greater daungier & peril to keep it. Is not humility lost among them that be in honour, or patience among wrong doers, or abstinence among gluttons, or chastity amongs women, or rest amongs business, or charity amongs evil willers, or peace amongs seditious, or silence amongst babblers, or good wit where is so much folly? In the court no man is content, every man complaineth either because the king giveth him naught, or because the prince healpeth him not, or that one or other is ever betwixt him and home: He complains of the porter he will not let him in: of the treasurer that he payeth him not: of his crediture which taketh away his goods: or of one or other that that doth him wrong in the court. If one rede a letter of pleasure, he shall read an hundredth of displeasure. The wife shall writ to her husband and pray him for to come home, that he may marry his daughters being of age, or that his children be disobedient, that his friends hath forsaken him, and that by ingratitude they tender evil for good, and weariness doth assail her on all sides, that her tenants call her to the law, that his goods be spent? surely he shall hear such news, so that for two groats that he giveth to the bearer of the letters, he would gladly have given more to have hard no such news In the court a man doth many things by necessity, that to die for it he would not do in his house: he dines and sups with his enemies, he speaks with him that he never knew nor pleaseth him not, defends him that helps him not, followeth him that honoureth not him, lends to him that payeth him not, dissembles with him that doth him injury, and trusts to him that beguiles him. O unhappy & sorrowful courtier if by chance he grow to be a poor man, no man will secure him, and if he fall sick no man visits him, and if he die he is incontinent forgotten: if he be virtuous no man commends him, and if he be out of credit no man regards him. In the court there is nothing more rare nor more dear to recover then virtue, nor more easy to find then the abundance of three manner of people. That is of tale bringers, of flatterers and of liars. The liars deceiveth the princes. The flatterers the rich men. The tale bringers, those that be in favour. The women, deceiveth the men. The covetousness, the old men. The pomp the prelate's. The avaricious, the priests. The liberty the religious, ambition, the presumptuous, the wise confidence in men, & all they joined together be deceived by fortune. In the court men employ the time so evil that from the time the courtier doth arise, till he go to bed, he occupieth himself about nothing but in asking of news, jetting about the streets, writ letters, speak of the wars, entertain them that be in favour, counsel with bawds, make as he were in love and lose always the time. In the court more than in any other place the things are slow. For one rises late, and worst of all amendss his life late. All things there is variable and changeable and inconstaunt. The estates change, The little assende, the great fall. The widows there be marred: The married be defamed: The maidens be shamed: The good spirits be dulled: The valiant becomes cowards: The prelate's wax worse & worse: The sciences are forgotten: The young lose their time: The old undone: This is the courtiers life. He is not worthy to be a courtier unless he be in debt and oweth to the draper for cloth, to the Merser for silk, to the tailor for the making of his apparel, to the goldsmith for jewels for my lord the courtiers lady, to the judges for the disputing of processes, to the servants for wages, to their hosts for their expense. There is to much evil counsel even such as is more than the half way leading to damnation. The ten Chapter. ¶ That a man cannot live in the court, without to trouble himself or some other. A Courtier doth many things, more for to say, I do as other men do, then for any need he hath so to do. He banquets with every man because he will not be called an hypocrite, Plays because he would not be named a niggard, & companies with many, because he will not be named a solitaryman and gives to rascal & naughty people because he would not be evil said of them. A man in the court is full of pensiveness and passions: For it is truth that it is appropried to them of nature that follows the court, to be incessantly tormented. He must praise his fellows, dispraise strangers, & look unto therein that do well, and blame them that do evil, and spend at large with his fellows, and against the enemeys spare not his own proper life: And all this must he do because he will not be dispraised. In the court commonly one professeth to wait of one master, but for all that he must serve at the tail of divers others lords. O broken heart of the poor courtier that must needs serve such as knoweth him not, and make reverence to them that deserve not to have it, and must say to my master the officer an hundredth times a day, sir and if it please you. And he shall answer when I am at leyser? tarry a while at the door. And yet we must call him master that deserves it no more than the hung man that strangles a man with a halter. O what pity is it to see a poor suitor in his needy business follow the king from town to town evil nourished & worse lodged? The king hath business, the counseler is deaf, the Almoner hath no hand, & he that thou knowest hath no eyes: And without money and extreme pain, the five wits of nature be lain. In the court, albeit that one hath no enemies which is seldom seen, yet is it truth that many times his own friends put him out of quiet, forasmuch as if the courtier will take rest in his lodging, they grunt at him because he will not go see his friends and provoke him to go follow the princes in the court, saying, that the rascal and the varlets mock at him, that he goeth not thither and show himself free and liberal: and when he is arrived at the court, which is a natural enemy to rest, and a desire of novels, then must he change, as doth the Egipcian, which every day seeketh a new country, a new lodging, new apparel and conversations, business and fashions of men. Lo my friend and the reader of this: This is the life of the courtier as it is here described: and also of him that liveth in the village the which said life of the peysauntes shall be much praised of many, and choose of a few, because that every man readeth books enough & the more he readeth the less he changeth of his evil customs. And to call to reason why it is so, it followeth that the court of princes is good but for two manner of men, for them that be in favour, & for the young which be yet of a weak judgement. And those that be in favour, & doth wait daily, see themselves so rich, so feared, and so well accompanied that they feel not the pain of the court. And the pleasure they get thereby makes them for conclusion forget themselves, yet notwithstanding for all this, it is impossible but that their brains must be troubled, because they be to much occupied, for their houses are to full of people, their ears full of lies, their tongues to much troubled with answering of every man, their hearts to much pressed to aid and help them that they would help, & other. And finally the greater in authority & credit they be, you shall see them the more pensive & the more astonied, and for the most part sooner complain then rejoice: but command who command will, have credit who will, the truth is, none can take pleasure of his goods, without honest rest Beside this those which be said to be in favour, are ever in fear to be put down from their authority: And by that means are in continual dread and torment, the which is an enemy mortal to quiet and rest. And the young in like case (as I have said) that be without judgement & blinded in vices, do not know nor see the incommodities of the court, nor care, neither for favour nor honour, but bound & drowned in volupteousnes and vices, pass the better part of their days in the school that is nothing worth, under the master of perdition. The xi Chapter. ¶ That in the court those that be grave are praised and well esteemed, and the other that doth the contrary not regarded. THe courtier should not acquaint himself with vain and idle people, that he be not reputed to be such as he companieth withal. For it had not been enough for him to say he must needs do there asother do and dissemble as other dissembles. Neither behoveth it him not to cloak his naughty doing, in going secretly to such as be nought, for why? the wits of the courtiers are so fine, that they know not only what one sayeth but what he thinketh. There is neither little nor great but men spy him whether he goeth, from whence he cometh, & where he abideth, with whom he talketh, in whom he trusteth, and what he will do, so well, that the curtains may hide a person, but to hide the vices of the courtiers is impossible. The courtier also aught not to brag and crack that things shallbe as he would, he may not presume to speak to the king and require audience as he himself lust: for he that followeth the court must be as one that hath no mouth to speak, nor hands to be avenged withal, being well assured that there is no more love in the court, then are clotheses upon a bore horse. For he that is in the court, and is not armed with patience, it had been much better for him not to have come out of his country, for being a quarreler & seditious fellow, in the court he shallbe hated, and peradventure banished from thence, & then his returning shallbe to his utter shame. Malice & displeasures take often an end in the village, but in the court is always an overplus of them. What is the cause? Fortune I say of her, which hath the rule over them who counteth for a goddess, which is more feared of a foolish opinion, then for any power she hath over men. The courtier also aught not to condescend to that which his sensuality requireth, but to that which reason doth persuade him unto, forasmuch as the one demands more than needs, & the other contents him with less than he hath. Forasmuch then as in the court, there is so many tables to glutton on, so many new found plays to play at, so many quarrels to fight for, so many matters to plead, there is no cause to marvel if the sage be cherished, and the dissolute person blamed. The good man within the court, is as a nut within the shalt, & marry within the bone, & a pearl within the cokle, and a rose among the thorns. I do not say reder, for the quality and quantity of the malice of the court, that all be vicious that be there: God forbidden that it so should be, but when I call to remembrance we be all mortal men, I think it in manner impossible to arrive safe into the port, among so many Sulla's and Caribdes. You will say that the wily and the subtle person there waxeth rich, and that the great sums of money be there: I confess it, & I would say your saying should be good if they that were of the best knowledge & the most virtuous number were advanced for their prudence, as the other be by hazard and chance or by theft, for the reward of virtue, is not like to the reward of fortune. Item the courtier aught not to give presents, nor lightly take, for why? for to give him that deserves it not, there lacks wisdom. And to receive of him that one aught not, is a thing but vile. Who that will exercise liberality, aught to considre what he giveth, and to whom he giveth: for it should be but folly to give that which one may not, & that which he himself needs. And one aught to considre the time and the end and the season, and wherefore he giveth. And if the courtier give something over liberality & without just cause of recompense of him which is out of credit and in the time that he beginneth to decline. Is not then the gift evil employed? is it not to be lamented that one gives sooner to the flatterer to tell some feigned or lying tales, or to a jester to make them laugh, or to a common liar to make them talk, or to a pleasant fellow to invent a lie, rather than to a trusty servant that hath all the days of his life deserved to have thank for his good service? Yet for all this, mine intention is not to persuade great men that they should not give to all men: but I say the true servants aught to be preferred, because it is more meeter that their service should be rewarded, than the presents of strangers considered. When a man giveth to strangers, the servants seeing the same draw back: you may be assured that they not only murmur at that which is given, but also accuse him of his ungentle deed, and become a mortal enemy to him that the thing is given unto. The gifts makes a man much subject that receiveth them, for assoon as any man doth take of another an horse or a gown, or often sit with him at his table, he binds himself thereby to bear him favour, to defend his quarrel, to keep him company, to take his part, and to love that that he loveth. And reason will, that sithence one feeleth profit of another that he be not unkind, howbeit let a man beware to bind himself so much under the will of other men, that he thereby forgetteth his own honesty. Many young children descended of an honest house go to the court & take with them a good part of their goods and consume the same plaiing, eating, and drinking, and using bawdry & adultery under colour of learning their behaviour: and resort to the great men's houses, to no other intent, but to be much made of of them where they take a great repast, and afterward so play the young wanton fools, that they spend rend, honour and all. And when the purse is flat, their office is to go all the day in the streets to the churches and to the palace to ask news & tidings, only to pipe out lies and fables at the lords boards, & all for to go scot fire. And there is a sort of young men in the court, yea I may say to you, of those that have beards, that neither have master nor entertainers, that as soon as a stranger cometh to the court, strait ways they board him, saying that they will show him the fashions & manners of the court, the pleasures of the palaices, the manner how to keep him from deceitful fellows, and to entertain young gentlewomen. And thus the newecome courtier that is yet a fool, in the mean season shallbe handled in such wise that now goeth a gown, now a coat, another time a horse, & sometime purse and all. And there is another sort of men in the court that busieth themselves with so great authority & with so little wit, that after they have used the company of some great lord, they will sand him a letter by their page, saying they be poor gentlemen, kinsfolk to some great men, and that they be there suing for some office, and that they have a payment in hand, wherefore they require him to lend him a certain sum of money: And yet are they in no such necessity, but only to get somewhat, either to buy a gay coat, or a horse, or to keep a whore. There is another sort of false & beggarly courtiers, the which after they be once used to the court, they go from church to church to ask for God's sake, saying they be poor suitors & that they love better to beg then to rob, commending themselves to the priests to beg for them on the poor parisheners when they preach, & so take against reason the good that poor men should have. There is another sort of haunters in the court, that go from one house to another of the great estates and lords, counterfeiting to be diligent servants, flattering the steward, the butler, and the cook, & live of that which is left of the divers, and go their ways with their pockettes and their sleeves full of meat for so sup with all. And there is another manner of sort that go two and two & three and three together in a morning to spy and see if there be any thing evil kept, and with that to look and to pry if a sword or a Spanish cloak, or a purse be fallen aside, if there be, they sing in a merry note this is pro nobis. Other there be that for to conduct & defend a whore when the court removes (as one may say more than ruffians) they live of the gain of that miserable woman. Another hath falsdise, false marked cards for to deceive the innocentes, win their money, & lccse their own souls. And there lacks not in the court old women & wrinkled trots that after their harvest is past, cloak the sins of other, and beguile those that be chaste and undermine such as be married, hurt their neighbours, cell maidens to whoredom for lucre, and do nourish them therefore, whereof follows that these old whores sometime cell wenches better cheap than fishers do lamperyes. O behold the company of the court, the holiness, the religion, the brotherhed, and finally the foul disorder of the same. And I say for my part, go to the conrt who will and there abide, and triumph who will: as for myself I do remember I am a christian man, and that I must account for the time I have lost, & therefore I had much rather to labour and dig & delve out of the court and be saved, then to be nigh the king, my conscience not clean nor pure. The xii Chapter. ¶ That in the court of princes all say we will do it, but none do it. BY as the great Philosopher of great renown amongs the Grecians, said upon a time to the great Alexander Quiliber in suo negotio, hebetior est quam in alieno, meaning, that commonly every man is more blinded in his own affairs then in another man's. And he so said by very good reason, for that there be men, which for to give a wise deliberate and sage counsel for to remedy a sudden mischief, have excellent wits, so that it be in another man's matter. But in their own affairs they have neither wit to govern their own houses, nor stable mind to cover their own misery. Cayus julius Caesar, Octauus Augustus, Marcus Antonius, Septimius Severus, Marcus Aurelius, and other in great number, that were esteemed in their privy business, that is to say, in the ruling of the common wealth, wonders witty: but we read that they were so negligent in governing their own households, their wives & their family, that it is much to their shame and reproach: therefore such be seen often to be good to rule the common wealth, that be nothing worth to govern their own, and had need (if it might be honestly said) to have a ruler to rule them. Plutarch reporteth that the noble & valiant captain Niseas never lost battle, but only in trusting to much to his own wit & judgement. And if we believe Hiarcas the Philosopher, it is more hurtful to a man to stand in his own conceit, then to fancy a woman: for in loving a woman, a man hurteth but himself: but in sticking to much to his own phantasy, it may redound to the hurt of a whole common weal. All this that is said, shallbe to admonish them that tarry in the court, to be conversant with the grave and sage people, & with such as be learned, and such as have good experience: For the grave, learns virtue: silence is a certain guide to a man: & experience, is the consummation of all. For although the courtier being young, be never so sage, grave, rich or in favour, he shall need a father to counsel him, a brother to persuade him, a guide to teach him the way, and a master to instruct him, and a corrector to punish him: because the mischiefs, crafts, & wickedness doth so abound in the court that it is impossible that a man alone may defend him from all, and utterly resist them. For in the court there is none so high away to destruction as for a man to be governed only by himself, & have his own swinge. The court is a perpetual dream, a botomelesse whorlepole, an enchanted phantasy, and a maze: when he is in, he cannot get out till he be morfounded. One of the best remedies that the courtier may get against so many evils, is to have a faithful friend that flatters him nothing, but that rather will correct and rebuke him if he go home late, if he walk by night, if he be a false player or whorehunter. But where shall we find such a friend? For we see the friendship in the court is commonly used among young courtiers in this sort, that so soon as two. or iii are met together, straight fall they to quarreling, fighting, rioting, so that there is rather occasion given to do evil, then good counsel to refrain. Therefore he that haunteth the court, it were meet that he had some friend to whom without fear he might common of his business, & that the multitude be also to him common friends, but above all one perfit friend. I would also he should keep himself from the conversation of seditious people, from collericke people & vacabondes, for the rascal sort will slander and say, the king payeth nought that those be in favour have all the swinging, that the officers are proud, that man's service is evil recompensed, & the good unknown: With these words & such other like the poor courtiers forgettes to serve & begin to murmur. Also the good christian man aught not to cease to amend his life, for that he hopeth to live long: although those that be old there occupy themselves rather in new pastance, then to correct their old sins. You shall find them that promise' every day for to amend themselves in their age, & yet nevertheless die there worse than devils: the cause is that they all say we will do and yet never do. There be some old doting fools, which shall brag of the kings & princes which they have served, of the changing of offices that they have seen, and of the wars passed, and of the great mutability & change of fortune. And yet notwithstanding all that they have seen and endured, they be as greedy of gain, and delight in young and foolish pastimes as though they were new to begin to live. Alas miserable men that in perpetual travail, and continual sorrow, and infinite trouble have passed their lives, even from their first time of knowledge (which is, xv. years) to the time of manhood, and then from that time to their doting age, & all to have gained riches and increase in renown: not in all this time once remember that in the stead of a true and perfit rest, they prepare for themselves a hell both for body and soul. The courtier also aught not lightly to complain of adversities which many times come to him, thinking that oftentimes (though it be our own fault) we do complain of things which should complain of us, if they had a tongue. What time a man seethe himself base and is little esteemed, or poor & forgotten of the rich, and deceived of that he looked surely to have, incontinent he curses his fortune and laments his evil: In the mean while it is not fortune that hath thus served him, but himself that hath searched it and found it. Such a man thinks to be quickly rich, honoured & esteemed, that shortly after seethe himself poor, overthrown, despised, and blamed of all men, and cannot revenge himself, but only say, he is unfortunate & unhappy to the world, & that it is mishap: which is not so, but his own folly that makes him to leave the surety of his house and prepareth himself to the hazard of fortune, and therefore hath no cause to complain but of himself which chose the way to it. The best is, after that a man purposeth himself to continued in the court, that then patiently he await and tarry the time of advancement or advantage that he looketh for: or else if he cannot patiently dissemble with the time, let him not remain there, for contentation consists not in the place, but in the ambitious heart, & troubled mind. And take this for a truth, you that be courtiers that if ii or iii things succeed to your purpose prosperoussy, there shall come a hundredth overthwart the shynnes, either to you or to your friends. For notwithstanding that the courtier's doings & desires come to good pass, there shallbe things for his friend or fellow that goeth all awry, whereby often times he lamtenes the hurt of his friend, & that which is denied him more than the pleasure he hath of his own hap: wherefore there is always lack or fault of contentation. Will you any more? the being in court or out of the court, you shall here no nother matter, then, what news at the court? what doth the king? where is he? where is the counsel? and where lieth the officers of the household? and this is most true, that they which desire to here such news, are as desirous to see news: And by this means the poor ween to make themselves rich, the rich the more to command, and the lords the more to rule. O what a pleasure is it for them to be in the court hoping that the king may know them, that those that be favour may die, or that fortune may change, and that they come forward? And it followeth, that in tarrying the time, the time deceiveth them, & then death taketh them unware. The xiii Chapter. ¶ That there is a small number of them that be good in the Court and a great number of good in the common wealth. PLutarch in the book entitled De exilio telleth of the great King Ptolemy that having on a day at supper with him seven Ambassadors of divers provinces, moved a question to them, which of all their common wealths gonerned themselves with best laws and customs? The said ambassadors, were Romayns, Carthaginiens, Ciciliens, Rhodiens, Athenians, Lacedemoniens, & Cicioniens: among whom the question was effectually debated afore the king, forasmuch as every one of them being affeccionate to his country aleged the wisest reason that he could. The good king desirous to know the truth & the resolution of the question commanded that every one of the Ambassadors should tell of the best laws or customs that were in their common wealth three points, and that thereby it might esely be seen which was better ruled and deserved more praise. Then the ambassador of the Romans began and said, In Rome the temples be honoured, the governors obeyed and the evil chastised. The ambassador of Carthage said in Carthage the noble men never cease to prepare to the war, the poor people to traveil, and the Philosophers to teach. The ambassador of the Ciciliens said, In Cicill is true justice executed, troth is beloved, and equality praised. The Ambassador of the Rhodiens said, In Rhodes the old men are honest, the young men shamefast, and the women meek and gentle. The Ambassador of the Athenians said, the Athenieus do not consent that the rich should be partial, nor the mean people idle, nor the governors without learning. The ambassador of the Lacedemoniens said, in Lacedemony envy rains not because all are equal nor covetousness because all is common, nor idleness because all men travail. The Ambassador of Cicioniens said, in Cition they receive no strangers inventors of news, nor Phisious that kyl the whole, nor advocates that makes the processes' immortal. When king Ptolemy and his company had herded these so good and holy observances, he praised greatly the institution of every of them, saying, that he could not judge which was the best. This history is well worthy to be noted, and better to be followed: And I believe if in our days so many ambassadors should meet, disputing as these did of their common wealths, they should find more things to blame & speak evil of (and that without comparison) then to praise & commend. In times passed the kings houses were so well reform, the kings themselves so wise, and the governors so moderate, that little offences were chastised, and once to think of great offences forbidden: to the intent that the chastisement should be terror to the evil, & the prohibition a plain advice unto the good: It is not so in our common wealths, where is done so much evil, and committed so many bitter offences & unhappynes, that those which the ancients did chastise for deadly sins by death, we dissemble them to be but venial: the truans and wantoness be so entertained as though we lacked them: and not as meet to be chased and driven away. My lady the widow or my masires that is married, if they fall to lewd and wanton living, you shall not find one that will say madam or masters you do naught: but rather six hundredth that shall procure her dishonour. This is in our time, such is our fashion and manners which causeth evil: so that he is more to be praised which may be called good in our common wealth, than any of the Consuls of Rome, because that in the old time it was almost a monstrous thing to find one evil among a hundredth, & now it is a great chance to find one good amongst a hundredth. The holy scripture praiseth Abraham that was just in Called, Loath that was just in Sodom Danyel in Babylon, Toby in Niniveh, and Neemyas in Damascus. And likewise may we among this Cathalog of holy men number the good courtiers if there be any, but it cannot be forasmuch as none goeth about to move the courtiers to virtue, but that counsel them to perdition. There is in the court so many vacabondes, so many players, blasphemers, & deceivers that we may be abashed to see such a multitude: but it were a novelty to hear of the contrary, for why? the world hath nothing in hisrosiers but thorns, and for fruits of trees, but leaves, for wines but briars, & in their garnerdes but straw, and in their treasures, but Alcumyn. O golden world, O world desired, O world passed: the difference betwixt you and us is, that afore you little and little the world passeth, but afore us it is quite passed. In the O world every man undertaketh to invent, to do, to begin and to make an end of that he will: and that which is worst of all, liveth as he will: but the end is right doubtful. There is little to be trusted in the O world. And contrary wise little to defend, little to enjoy, & very little to keep. There is many things to be desired, many things to be amended, & many things to be lamented. Our aunceters had the Iron world, but our world may well be called the dirty world, because it keepeth us continually in a filthy mire, and always we be there in defiled and rayed. The xiiii Chapter Of many offaires in the court, and that there be better husbandmen, then commonly is of courtiers. THe Poet Homer hath written of the travels of Vlixes one of the princes of the Greeks: Quintus Curtius of Alexander and Darius: Moses of joseph, And of them of Egypt: Samuel of David & of Saul: Titus Livius, of the Romans: Thucydides of jason, with the Minotaur: and Sallust of jugurth & Cathelyne. I then willing to follow these good authors, have undertaken to writ the unkind travails of the court that the courtiers of our time have which have patience enough for to suffer them, and no wisdom to avoid them: than it is not without a cause if I do call the travails of the court unkind, for they be accustomed unto it as the old horses are to the packesadle and to the plough, sith that the courtiers themselves do suffer them so much and have no profit thereof. Some men will say that I am evil advised because I writ the courtiers have not their ease, seeing that he that may attain to be in the court is accounted to be fortunate. But he abuseth himself, if he think that all such as are out of the court be beasts & ignorant people, and he only wise: they rude & he delicate: he honoured and they vile, they stamme ring and he eloquent. If it were so that God would that the most perfit men should be in the court, it should be to us more than a fault, not incontinently to be a courtier: knowing that there can be no better time employed, then that which is bestowed in hearing the wise & sage men: but when all is said the places doth not better the men, but the men the places. God knows (for example) how many gentle and good honest minds labour in the villages, and how many fools & lubbers brag it in palaices. God knoweth how many well ordered wits and judgements is hide in the villages, and how many rude wits and weak brains face and brace in the court. How many be there in the court the which although they have offices, dignities, estates & pre-eminences, yet in the village (after a manner of speaking) with great pain they are not able to rule ten men. How many come out of the court correctors of other, that themselves in the villages should be corrected? O how many things is said amongs the poor labourers worthy to be noted? And contrary, spoken afore princes worthy to be mocked? O how many is in the court that make themselves highly to be esteemed, not for to be honest & diligent, but to come in authority? And how many is there in the village forgotten and not set by, more for lack of favour then for either lack of wit or diligence: The princes give the offices: Those that be in favour have the entry: nature the good blood: The parents the patrimony: and the deserving, honour: but to be wise and sage cometh only of God, and men have not the power to take it away. And if it were so that princes might give good wit to whom they would, they should keep it for themselves, seeing they never lose, but for lack of knowledge. I take it for an evil point of such as newly cometh from the court to the village, & being there, rather use mocking then taste the benefit thereof. But in the mean time, thou seest their manner of life, that is, to go to bed at midnight and rise at x. of the clock, & in making ready till noon, trimming their bush, or beard, and setting the cap a wry. And all the day after, to talk of his darling that he hath in the court, or of the battle of Granado where he did marvels. And some there be of them that will lie and brag that they were at the journey of Pavay with the captain Antony Deleva: at Tunes with the Emperor: or at Turron with Andrew Doria. And for all his brabbling he was no better than a ruffian or a zacar of Tholydo, or a knave of Cordova. We have rehearsed these things before written, to 'cause our minion friskers to leave mocking of the poor inhabitants of the village, esteeming them to be but fools & lurdens. For I believe, if my master the Emperor would banish all the company of fools, I fear me he were like to dwell alone in the court. Let us say then, that very late they of the court know themselves and the order of their life & profession, I mean the profession of that religion which they keep straightly, the which consists in this: their promise to please the devil, and to content the court, and to follow the world: They promise' to be ever pensive, sad and full of suspicion: They promise' always to be chopping and changing, full of business, to buy, to sell, to weep, to sin, and never to reform themselves: They promise also to be jagged and raggged, an hungered, indebted and despised: They promise' to suffer rebukes of Lords, theft of their neighbours, injuries of collerike men, mockeries of the people, reproach of their parents: and finally, missing & lacking of friends. Lo this is the profession and rule of the observants of the court: which I will not name a rule, but a confusion, not a order but a disorder, not a monastery, but a hell, and a religion not of brethren, but of dissolute people: not poor hermits but covetous worldly men. O pity, O lack of good judgement. The Oracle of Apollo being asked by the Ambassadors of the Romans where lay the point for one to govern himself well, The answer was, for a man to know well his own estate & degree that thereby one may rule his desires, & bridle his affections. The courtier desiring all, & percevering in nothing, shall think in his mind, that if he get not in one year some fee or office, that it is not for lack of knowledge: but as a person ignorant & foolish blameth his fortune, and curseth the hour that ever he came thither, without calling to mind that the court is as the Palm tree whose rote is a feadome under the ground, before that he show two fingers breed of leaves above the ground. In like manner, a man must be long in service before he be promoted: yet so much rests that the persevering & abiding by it, causeth a man to hope: For to say the truth, it is seen, if there be three which deserve more than they have, there be three hundredth that have more than they deserve. O how seldom times doth fortune that she aught for to do? And how many times fortunes hazard & chasice doth better than the assurance of virtue? because she measures her merits by the evil length of opinion, and not by reason: she makes the water burn without fire, the knife to cut with out steel, the Candle to light without flame, the mill to go without water, & the cause is only her inconstancy. If she laugh in the court of any, it is but with her ears, If she weep, it had been better never for a man to have come out of his house: If she lift any up aloft, it is to throw him down again lower than he was: If sometime she dissemble, it is to take one in a trap. Let no man then trust of fortune, for she is so variable, that she never holdeth her promise of that she giveth, neither by word nor yet by writing that she maketh. The xu Chapter ¶ That among courtiers is neither kept amity nor faith fullness: And how much the Court is full of travail, of envy & rancour. ONe of the most excessive travails among the courtiers is, that none is resident there without he be hated or at the jest that he hate: that is not pursued or else doteh pursue, that doth not mock or else is mocked. And one unhappy thing is in the court, many there be that will do of their bonnet to you, that gladly would see your heads of by the shoulders: And such there be that makes reverence unto you that would have his leg broken to see you dead and carried to your grave: Is it not a great pity to be conversant all day together, to laugh & make merry one with another, and yet have mortal hate? Is not this more than a dissimulation, to honour him whom they would be glad to see led to the gallows? One thing for all, it is ambition & to much hope of sharp and bitter fortune, & lack of knowledge, of this, that amity well observed, is much worth to moderate a man. What life, what fortune, what taste may he take that seethe himself daily present in the court, where is so much theft, bribry, murders, poisoners, felons, & traitors ready to betray and cell a man, and he himself betrayed and sold? And contrariwise what felicity is it to be in the company of those, with whom a man may faithfully recreate himself fearing noman? In the court, there be gentlemen so rooted in vengeance & hatred that by no mean, request, nor gentleness a man may direct them from their evil intents, in such manner that they be glad to make war with their own houses, to chase peace from them selves to the houses of their enemies? Whereby one may well presuppose as is aforesaid, that uneath one may hope to have friends in the court, and less trust: and the greater men in authority, the more afraid they be to fall. What then causes a man there to tarry in such travail? I have wonder that any can suffer it or have a heart to dissemble it. O how fortunate is he that leadeth his life in the village, with the mean business of his little possession, in comparison of the courtier whose estate is ever unhappy & of all parts miserable, that never ceases to hope of things vain, in procuring unjust things & such things that never can be determined. And if thoughts were wind, & his desires waters, it should be greater danger to sail in his heart then in the main sea. In the court is one thing I wot not what, & one thing I know not how, and one thing I understand not, which causeth there incessantly complaints, and continual chopping and changing, and evermore despite & envy: and that worst is there is no liberty to departed thence. The yoke of the court is hard, the bonds fast tied and the plough so tedious that those that ween to be the first to triumph, are the first that labour & draw the weighty burdens. And such as are poor & ignorant men suffer these intolerable travails, because they would not be as subjects in their own countries, and to have a greater liberty to do evil. But God knows what such liberty costeth them, that for a short and vain pleasure purchase to themselves, continual travail and perpetual bondage. The property of this vicious liberty, or better to call it, this mischievous subjection, is, that at the beginning it seemeth somewhat pleasant: but in the end all converts to a bitterness, sorrow, and lamentation, chief when a man hath experience by little & little of the vice that this life containeth. For if he accompany with women, he must flatter them, serve them, & entreat them: And if money lack, then must there be some devilish shift made. devilish need. For why, when one cometh new to the court, my lady dame gorgeous, ledes him a train, she entertains him, she makes much on him, she colles him: but when she spieth him to lack, she sends him to pasture in the bore fields. And if the time of eating come, the courtier must often times feed with them, whom he would see eaten without sauce▪ Now, if his turn be to play, therein is little profit: if he win, he must liberally depart with the gain to those that stand by: & if he lose, they restore to him never a penny. And if the courtiers turn be to jest, and to be merry, therein he finds no fruit for the courtier's play beginneth in fair words, & ends with brawling, chiding, & fighting. And forasmuch as it is the worst life of all other lives: Let us conclude that there is nothing worse than a vain courtier, & an idle husbandman. The xvi Chapter. By how much the common wealths and the courts of the time passed were more perfit than the courts of the time present, THe king Anchyses did lament the destruction of the proud Troy, done by the princes of Greece: The Queen Rosaine bewailed her husband Darius, when he was overcome by the great Alexander. jeremy the prophet complained the estate of Babylon, when it was held captive. King David lamented his son Absalon when joab killed him. The lady Cleopatra thought no nother but to die for sorrow when her dear & well-beloved Marcus Antonius was vanquished by the Emperor Augustus. The Consul Marcus Marcellus lamented the city of Syracuse when he saw it on a fire. Sallust, Rome, evil governed. The patriarch jacob his son joseph: The king Demetrius his good father Antigonus when he found him dead at the battle of Marathone. It shallbe also convenient that amongs these well renowned princes we should lament the miseries of our time, in the which we see things so marvelous, that the curious auctors of the time passed never written things semblable unto them: Nor the men in those days never saw the like. Truth it is that the Chroniclers in those days written what they would, In our time scant any man dare speak. The Philosopher Ariminius hath written of the abundance of Egypt: Demophon of the fartilitie of Arabia: Thucydides of the treasures of Tyrus: Asclepius of the mines of Europe: Dodrillus in the commendation and praisings of Grece: Leonides of the triumphs of Thebes: Eumenides of the government of Athens: Thesiphontes of the order that is kept in the court, and of the princely houses of the Sicioniens: Pytheas of the profit that came by the little speaking of the disciples of Socrates: Apollinus of the continency and abstinence that was kept in schools of the divine Plato: Myronides of the great exercise, and of the little rest that was in the house of Hyarcas: Aulus Gelyus' of the temperance and little eating, and of the moderate sleeping of the disciples of master Favorimus: Plutarch of the wise women of Greece, & of the chaste wives of Rome: Dyodorus, how those that were inhabitants in the Isles of Balyares cast their treasure into the sea for fear jest the strangers for covetousness of their riches should make them wars, and to the intent also that no partiality should grow among themselves. Hearing then all this that that I have said, I demand of the reader his advise what my pen should writ of our time? If we should writ of bounty and verity, we should falsely lie: If of riches, men be so greedy that all be disposed to desire and hunger covetously. How shall we then praise the men of our time? Shall we say they be hardy and puissant & learned, and we see that they employ their minds to nothing else but to rob and beguile each one the other? How shall we praise them of prosperity and health, seeing that the pestilence and the French pocks more than common is among them? How shall we commend their continency & abstinence, seeing that scant in fifty years you shall not find one that will bridle his lust and desire? Shall we praise them of little rest and of much exercise, when we see that there is a greater number that give themselves to idleness and thefery, then to honest travels & pains? How shall we praise them of temperate eating, when we see in our days the belly is men's God? How shall we commend them for having chaste women and obedient, seeing that there is nothing more common among them then adultery? Shall we say, they be not covetous, seeing that not only men search gold and silver in deep mines, but men travail to seek it as far as the Indiens, of a vineyard so froson, of a tree so dry, of fruit so unripe, of a water so troubled, of bread so evil baken, of so much false gold, of a world so suspicious, what shall we hope any other thereof but evil & confusion? Let us read that is written of the courts of the princes of Syria, of Percia of Macedonia, of Grecia, and finally of the Romans: And let us confer these to our courts, and you shall see such evils and vicious customs in our common wealths, that the ancients did never attain to the knowledge how to commit such abominations, nor yet (I say) to invent such evils. In those most happy times & golden worlds an evil conditioned man scant dared to have showed himself in any honest company: but now alas (a thing to be lamented) the world is so replenished with dissolute & corrupt living, that it is counted but a small fault to be evil, except he be such a one as is past all shame & grace. The courtiers will not deny me but that while they give attendance for the uprising of their masters, they tell each one the other what pastime they have had the night before, how they have played, sworn and stared at their game, of their laughings, and the companies they have had with the gentle dames: which of them was fairest and best appareled? and sometime in secret of those that they have committed adultery withal. And thus, as the world is new, the inventions are new, the plays new, the garments new, new speaking, new manners, & new every year, every month you and every day, & every hour: we see vices so largely delated, and virtue so diminished, that I am ashamed to writ it: And the true cause is, that in the court virtue hath many controllers and enemies, and vice innumerable upholders and maynteiners. For if there be brought into the court one laudable custom, it is no sooner come, but forthwith it is chased away: And on the other part, vice can not so soon appear, but it is as soon embraced & entertained. The sage lawyer Lygurgus did defend expressly by a law that the strangers should not know the secrets of his common wealth nor that his citizens should meddle much abroad, for that purpose as is said, that in meddling with them, they should not learn their vices nor their barbarous conditions. In the time when Marcus Portius was Consul, there came an excellent Musician out of Grece into Rome, which for because that he put one string more on his harp then was accustomed to be played withal, he was by the consent of the people banished from Rome & his harp burnt: Howbeit in this our time, we could well agreed with Music, and would not pass how many stings the harp had: so that men might agreed and stay themselves. Plutarch saith that he see once at Rome a priest of Grece stoned to death in the great place of Campus Marcus, because that he did sacrifice to the Goddess Berecinthe in other manner than they were accustomed to be sacrificed unto. Suetonius affirmeth that in four C.lxiiii. years which was the time that the temple Vierges Vastales endured, there was never found but iiii. evil living people, which were Domicia, Rhea, Albina & Cornelia, the which for their offences were openly buried quick. If at this day one would register the names of such like, to be so punished, I leave it to your judgement whether there should lack hangmen to do execution. Trebelius Publius said that the Emperor Aurilianus Quintus took a great friend of his from the office of Dictator, which was named Rogerius, only because he had daunsed at the wedding of Posteria Auia his nigh neighbour saying, that the good judge should not leave his gravity & use such wild and common plays. But so it is, whatsoever this Emperor said, In our time we will give licence to judges to remove their feet as fast as they will, so that they hold their hands still. It shall make no matter to the poor pleader whether his judge sing or dance, so that he ministre justice with expedition, that the the poor man come not often times and give to much attendance. In this case it were very good to raise the Emperor Domitian, which as Suetonius writeth made a law, that whosoever prolonged the process of his cliant more than one year, that he should for ever be banished Rome. If this holy law had dured to this day, there should have been more banished in Rome and else where, then there are now citizens. The xvii Chapter. Of divers noble and valiant men, that left the court & the great cities and drew them to their proper houses, more by will, then by necessity. MArcus Crassus a captain of the Romans, was greatly commended and praised for that he was valiant in the war, and wise in the business of his household: This is that Crassus that followed the partiality of the Consul Silla against Marius and julius Caesar after Dictator. It chanced on a time that by the fortune of the sea, the said Caesar was prisoner to certain pirates and robbers of the sea, and he said boldly to two. or. iii of the best of them that kept him fast bound, It doth (said he) grieve me much, not for that I am taken prisoner, forasmuch as that is but hazard of the war, but of the pleasure that mine enemy Crassus will take when he doth hear of the news. This Crassus was Master to a Philosopher named Alexandrius, that governed him as a father, counseled him as a friend, and taught him as a master: And this did he by the space of xviii years, which passed, than he demanded licence to return to his country: And going his way, said these words unto Alexander: I ask of the none other reward for my pain, nor for my labours in teaching of thee, then to grant that I shall never return to the court again: & when I am go that thou will't never writ unto me of thine affairs, for that I am so weary of being a courtier, that I will not only leave the court, but also forgettt all that ever I saw or herded in it. Denis of Siracuse, albeit that he was a cruel tyrant, yet notwithstanding he was a great friend to the Philosophers, and a honourer of wise men. And he said that he took much pleasure to hear of the wise and sage men of Grece, but he believed them not, because their teachings were words without deeds. Seven of the most sagest and best learned of Grece came to Siracuse a city where the said Denys was resident: that is to say, Plato, Chylo, Demophon, Diogenes, Myrtho, Pylades and Surranus the which meddled more of the affairs of Denis than he did of their doctrine. Dyogenes dwelled a xi. ycre with him, and after returned to his country, where he being & washing of herbs for his dinner, another Philosopher said to him: If thou hadst not left the service of Denis thou needest not now to have taken the pain to wash thine own herbs and make them ready for thy dyner. To whom Dyogines answered: If thou couldst have been content to have washed & eaten herbs: thou needest not at this time to have been in the court of Dionysius. Cato the Censor of whom the names of Cato first began, was esteemed for one of the wisest of the Romans: And he was never seen in lxviii years (for so long he lived) not once to laugh nor to do any thing repugnant to his sage gravity. Plutarch sayeth that he was in speaking prudent, gentle in conversation, in correcting sharp & severe, in presents liberal, in eating sober, and in that that he promised, sure and certain, & in executing justice irreprehensible. After the age of lu years he left the court of Rome, & with drew himself to a little village nigh to Picene, which is now at this present called Puzol: & there he passed the residue of his years in quiet and rest, accompanied only with his books, & taking for a singular recreation for to go twice or thrice a day to walk in the fair fields & the vines, & himself often to labour in them. And it fortuned on a day when he was absent from his house that one written with a coal upon his door O felix Cato, tu solus scis vivere, which is to say, O happy Cato, thou only knowest how to live. Lucullus Consul and captain, a Roman, right valiant, brought to an end the war against the Parthes which had continued by the space of xvi years, whereby he got great honour of the citizens of Rome, & immortal renown for himself and great riches for his family. And it is said of him, that he only of all the Romans did enjoy peaceably in his age, the riches that he had won in his youth in the wars. And after when he came from Asia & see that the common wealth was in division betwixt Marius & Silla, he determined to leave Rome & make a house in the country nigh to Naples upon the sea side (now at this present time called the Castel of Lobo) which he edified and lived there xviii. years in great tranquillity. His house was haunted with many people, specially with great captains that went into Asia, and with Ambassadors that came from Rome, which he received very gently & benignly. One night when his servants had made ready his supper with a less diet than he was accustomed to have, they excusing themselves that they ordained the less because he had no strangers: He said unto them, although said he, that there be no strangers with me, know not you that Lucullus must sup with Lucullus. Plutarch speaking of this valiant man's exercise that he did after he was retired to the place aforesaid, sayeth that he delighted much in hunting and hawking, but above all pleasures he most delighted in his Library, there reading and disputing incessantly. Helius Spertianus saith that Dioclesian, after that he had governed the Empire xviii. years, forsook it, and went to take his pleasure in the fields, there in quiet to end the residue of his life, saying: that it was time for him to leave the dangerous estate of the court & get him to a peaceable life in the village. Two years after he was thence retired, the Romans' sent unto him a solemn Ambassade to invite and desire him effectuously that he would take pity of the common wealth, and return, promising him that so long as they lived there should none have the name of Emperor but he. Now when the Ambassadors arrived at his house, they found him in a little garden where he was setting of Lettys and Onions: And hearing what they said unto him, he answered in this wise: Do you not think my friends, that it is much better for him that can sow his Lettys, and afterward pleasantly and merely to eat the same, so still to exercise himself, then to return & enter into the gulf of troubles in a common wealth? I have assayed both, I know what it is to command in the court, and what it is to live & labour in the village, wherefore I pray you suffer me here to abide in patience, for I desire rather here to live with the labour of my hands, then in the sorrow and cares of an Empire. Note by this example that the life of the laborer is more to be desired, than the life of a prince. Cleo and Pericles succeeded in the ruling of the common wealth after Solon, a man excellently learned and well esteemed, and taken among the Grecians for half a God, by the reason of the wise laws he made among the Athenians: These two noble governors were much be loved, because that (as Plutarch telleth) Pericles which xxx years had the administration of the business and affairs of the city, was never seen to come into any man's house but his own, nor yet to sit in any open place among the common people, such a gravity was in him. About the years of his age which was lx he went from Athens to a little village, where he ended the rest of his days, studiing and passing the time in husbandry: He had a little small gate or wicket in the entering of his house, over which was written inveni portum, spes, & fortuna valet. That is to say, forasmuch as now (and before I have knowledge of vanity) I have found the port of rest, fie of hope, and fortune farewell. By this example, no courtier can say that he leadeth a sure life, but only that courtier which doth as this wise captain did, withdraw himself. Lucius Seneca, was as who should say, a right leder to good manners, & a instructor to good letters to Nero the sixt Emperor of Rome, with whom he tarried xxiiii years, & had great doings of things pertaining to the common wealth, as well of private causes as otherwise, because he was sage and of great experience. And at the last, coming to great age and wearied with the continual conflicts & business of the court, left the court and went and dwelled in a little mansion he had nigh to Nole Campana, where he lived after, a long time as witnesseth his books De officiis, de Ira, de bono viro, de adversa fortuna and other books which were to long to rehearse. At last (fortune and man's malice did their office) Nero commanded him to be slain, not for that he had committed any crime worthy to die, or done any thing otherwise then an honest man aught to do: but only because the lecherous Domicia hated him: Note well reader this example, that sometime fortune pursueth him that forsaketh the court, aswell as the courtier. Scipio the African was so esteemed among the Romans, that in xxii years, while that he was in the wars he never lost battle: And yet made he war in Asia, Europe, and Africa, and to this, never committed act worthy of reproach: And yet he won Africa and put to sack Carthage, brought in bondage Numance, overcame Hannibal, and restored Rome weakened and near destroyed by the loss they had at the battle of Camnes. And yet for all this, being of the years of. lii. he withdrew him from the court of Rome to a little village betwixt Puzoll and Capua, where he lived a solitary life, and so content withal, that while he tarried there a xi. years space, he never entered into Rome nor Capua. The divine Plato was born in Liconia, and was nourished in Egypt, and learned in Athens: It is read of him, that he answered the Ambassadors of Cirene that required of him laws to govern themselves in sure peace, in this wise: Difficilimun est homines amplissima fortuna ditatos legibus continere. Which is to understand, that it is hard to bring to pass to make rich men to be subject to the rigour of the law. To conclude, Plato not willing to abide longer the clamour & cry of the court, went and dwelled in a little village two miles from Athens called Academia, where the good old man after he had tarried there. xiiii. years, teaching and writing many notable doctrines, ended there his most happy days. After the memory of him, the ancients called that village Academia, which is to say in English, a school: The conclusion is that all these honourable sage princes & wise men, left Monarchies, kingdoms, cities, & great riches, and went into the villages, there to search a poor, an honest, & a peaceable life. Not that I will say that some of these left the court, to be there poor and banished and rebuked, but of their fire will and free liberty, minding to live a quiet and honest life or they died. The. xviii. Chapter. ¶ The Author complaineth with great reason, of the years that he lost in the court. I Will demand of mine own self, mine own life, and make account of the same, to the intent that I will confer my years to my traveiles, and my travails to my years, that it may appear how long I left of to live, and began to die. My life (gentle reader) hath not been a life, but a long death: my days a play new for to begin: my years a very tedious dream: my pleasures Scorpions: my youth a transitory fantasy. My prosperity hath been no prosperity: but properly to speak, a painted castle, and a treasure of Alcumyn. I came to the court very young, where I see divers manners of offices and changes, even among the princes that I served. And I have assayed to travail by sea and by land, and my recompense was much more than I deserved: and that was this, that sometime I was in favour, and sometime out of favour. I have had experience of the somersautes of destinies: I have had in the court friends & enemies: I have had false reports: I have been even now glad and merry, and forth with sad and sorry: to day rich, to morrow poor: now mounted upward, & strait thrown downward: This hath been to me a masking, where I have lost both money and time. And now I say to the my soul, what hast thou got of this great journey? The recompense is this, that I have got there a grey head, feet full of the gout: mouth without tethe: rains full of gravel: my goods laid to pledge: my body charged with thought: and my soul little cleansed from sin. And yet is there more seeing that I must needs speak, that is, that I have returned my body so weary, my judgement dull, my time so lost, the best of my age so passed, and that is worst of all, I found no taste in any thing that is in the world: so that to conclude, I am of myself all weary of myself. What should I more tell or say of the alteration of my life, and of the changes of fortune? I came to the court innocent, and come from it malicious: I went thither true and meaning truth, & returned a liar: I went thither humble, & returned presumptuous: I went thither sober, and returned a gurmand & glutton: I went thither gentle and humane, and returned clean contrary. Finally in going thither I marred myself in all points: And I have no cause to say the faut in my masters, for the vices soon learned without a master, & cannot be forgotten without a corrector. O miserable that I am, I kept in the court an account of my goods, to know how they were wasted, and not for to distribute them to the poor: I took heed of my honour for to increase it, not for to better myself by the time: I took care of them that should pay me, to know what was owing me, and not that I might get to profit the poor withal, but to profit in riches and not in virtue. I held an account with my servants, to none other purpose, then to know how long they had been with me & served me, & not to inquire what life they led: Finally, I held a count of my life, but it was more to conserve it, then to correct it. Lo, behold, this was my account, this was my calculation, this was the Arsmetrique that I learned in the court. Let us yet go a little further and see mine exercises. I never was yet in the court but I found to whom I bore malice, or else that envied me. I was never yet in the palace but I found a window open, and a courtier murmur. I never yet spoke to princes, but I went from them not contented in my mind with some part of their answer. I never yet went to bed without complaint, nor never did rise without a sigh. If I went about to do any good thing, my great affairs hindered me. If I would study, my fellows letted me. If I went to take any honest and quiet pastime, mine affairs would not permit me. If I kept myself solitary and from company, my thoughts martyred me: Finally there was never any thing that so vexed my heart as the lack of money in my purse. And yet all this is nothing, remembering that I was ever envious to such as were mine equals: a flatterer to my superiors, and without pity to mine inferiors: & where I fancied one, I bore hate almost to all other. I found every man worthy of reproof, but against myself I could not suffer a word to be spoken. O how forgetful have I been, which should forget or a morsel of meat had been put in my mouth, and have talked aloud to myself alone, as it had been one that had been mad? O how often hath chanced me that in coming from the counsel weary, or from the palace thoughtful, I would not hear mine own servants speak, nor dispatch such as I had to do withal? O how many times have I been so drowned in business, that I could not moderate my pensiveness, although my friends did counsel me to the contrary? O alas, how many times hath my mind pressed me to leave the court and the world, and to yield myself to some solitary desert, as an Eremite? because I saw the king advance him and him, and I put back as a person half desperate. Moreover to fulfil my travails, always I went asking & searching news of the affairs of the court: always hearkening what one said of another: always spying and watching: & all this considered, I found by mine account, that I lived in heaviness, captivity, and state of damnation. Let us yet go farther: If I were rich, one or other searched some mean to devour me: If I were poor, I found none to secure me: my friends cried out upon me, and mine enemies sought my death. Overmuch babbling of the courtiers broke my brains: and much silence made me to sleep, and the solicitude caused me to be sad: And overmuch company oppressed me: much exercise wearied me, and idleness confounded me. To conclude, I so burdened and vexed myself in the court with so much travail in naughtynes, that I dared not desire death, although I had no desire to live. The xix Chapter. The author maketh account of the virtues that he lost in the court, and of the evil customs that he learned there, But now to proceed, my fortune passed, my friends died, my force decayed, and my first fashions failed: O if all my pains had been ended at the first time when I came to the court, how happy had that been for me? but now all consumed, I complain singularly of my traitorous heart, which would never cease to desire vain things, and the cursed tongue to speak slanderous things. O gentle reader, be not weary, if I tell thee in few words the difference betwixt him that I was when I went first to the court, & that I am now since I have been in the court. First and before that I did cast myself into this perilous labyrinth (which is to say a prison full of all snares) I was a good devout person, gentle and fearful: and since I have learned to be a mischievous fellow, slow in doing good, and little or nothing regarding the wealth of my soul. I went thither being very young and of good disposition, and came from thence deaf, & more than spurblind, and no more able to go then he that is full of the gout: And briefly and old grysard, full of ambition, in such wise, that I am so variable, that scant I know on what ground to set my feet. My heart was of so depraved a sort, that it desired to be discharged of all actions, and yet for all that found no nother but peril and torment. Sundry times I purposed to leave the court, and suddenly I repented. Sometime I purposed not to come out of my lodging, & straightway I was enforced to troth a troth to the court. Sometime I purposed not to come to the palace, and or I were ware I was compelled to go thither sometime or it were day. I purposed to be no more vexed, & suddenly my passions augmented, And it followed that my good purposes ceased and went from me: and I did that was lewd & naughty. Behold how I lived of wind and of fools imaginations as many a foolish courtier doth. I have phantasied with myself (in the court sometime) that I governed the king & the princes, and that I came of a noble house and ancient stock, excellent in science, great in favour and beloved of all men, sage in counsel, moderate in speaking eloquent in writing, prudent in service, and conformable to all. But when I waked out of my folly as from a dream, and looked to my feet, I knew easily that I had born false witness to myself of this golden & pleasant imagination, & saw of truth in other, the which I dreamyngly imagined of myself. I searched the way how to be esteemed of every man, holy, wise, gentle, content, & of a good zele, and a sea of sadness. Lo this fault happeneth to courtiers as it did unto me, that is, to join foolish liberty with virtuous honour, which be two things that cannot agreed, because that disordinate will is enemy to virtue and honour. But for my part good reader, I give thanks unto God, my affections be somewhat wasted and mortified, for I was wont 〈◊〉 in service, to desire daily t●at ᵉ court might remove: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 I care not though seldo●… 〈◊〉 never I come from my h●se I had a special lust to 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 for news, And now I care n●● for them at all. I see the time when I loved not to be out of company, And now I desire no thing more than to be solitary. I was wont to delight to hear, to see jugglers, dancers, liars, and daliars: And now so to do, were to me more than death. In like manner I was wont to solace myself in Fishing, Hunting, shooting in the Hackbut: And now I mind no nother but to bewail and lament the time I have lost: and call to mind the first time that the Emperor took me into his service, from thence where I was nourished from my tender years in great fear, & not knowing what the world was, but occupied only in my devotions and learnings: I often rose at midnight, I comforted the sick, I read the gospel and other good books of good doctrine. Briefly, every man did help me to be good, and chastised me from evil: If I did well, I was praised: if I did evil, I was corrected: if I were heavy, I was comforted: if I were angry, I was appeased if in any agony, my friends prayed to God for me: O what cause have I to repent out of measure, thus to have forsaken rest and godly living and to have enjoyed episcopal dignity, in which the Emperor set me: forasmuch as a virtuous life is the haven of all good, and the Episcopal dignity the sea of all daungier. Lo how I have passed my good years without emploiing my time well, & without knowledge what my fortune should be. I do therefore admonish the reder, to do better than I have done in the court, if thou be there, or else to forsake it in a better hour than I have done: for so doing thou shalt declare thyself, that thou hast determined to live sagely and well advised. The twenty Chapter. The author taketh his leave of the world with great eloquence. FArewell world, forasmuch as one can nor may trust of the nor in the. For in thy house (oh world) the passage is paste, and that which is present goeth soon away, and that which is to begin, cometh wondrous late, forasmuch as he that thinketh himself most firm, soonest doth fall, the most strongest soon doth break, and perpetuities soon decay, in such sort that those which be destinate to live an hundredth years, thou sufferest him not of all that time, to live one year in quiet. Farewell world, forasmuch as thou takest, & renderest not again, thou weariest, but comfortest not, thou robbest, but makest no restitution, & thou quarellest, but dost not pacify, & accusest before thou have cause to complain & givest sentence before thou hearest the parties, even till thou kill us, and then buriest us before we die. Farewell world forasmuch as in thee, nor by thee, there is no joy without trouble, no peace without discord, love without suspicion, rest without fear, abundance without fault, honour without spot, riches without hurt of conscience, nor high estate but he hath somewhat that he complaineth of. Farewell world, forasmuch as in thy palace promises are made & never kept, men serve and have no reward, they are invited to be deceived, they labour to be troubled, & travail to take pain, they laugh and are beaten, thou feignest to stay us, to make us fall, thou lendest. to pull away straight again, thou honourest us, to defame us, and correctest without mercy. Farewell world, thou flaunderest them that are in credit, and dost advance the infamed, thou lettest the traitors pass free, and puttest true men to their ransoms, thou persecutest the peaceable, and favourest the seditious, thou robbest the poor & givest to the rich, deliverest the malicious, and condemnest innocentes, guest licence to depart to the wise, and retainest fools: and to be short, the most part do what they list, but not what they should. Farewell world, forasmuch as in thy palace no man is called by his right name, for why? they call the rash valiant: the proud, cold hearted: the importune, diligent: the sad, peaceable: the prodigal, magnifical: the covetous a good husband: the babbler, eloquent: the ignorant, a little speaker: the wanton, amorous: the quiet man, a fool: the forbearer, a courtier: the tyrant, noble. And thus thou world, callest the counterfeat, the true substance, and the truth, the counterfeat. Farewell world, for thou deceivest all that be in thee: promising to the ambitious, honours: to the greedy, to come forward: to the brokers, offices: to the covetous, riches: to the gluttons, banquets: to the enemy's vengeance: to the thefes, secretness: to the vicious, rest: to the young, time: and to all thing that is false, assurance. Farewell world, for in thy house fidelity is never kept, nor truth maintained: and also we may see in thy house, one glad, and another afraid: some overcharged: some out of the right way: some void of comfort, desperate, sad, heavy, overburdened and charged, & more then lost, and sometime both. Farewell world, forasmuch as in thy company, he that wenes himself moste assured, is most uncertain, and he that follows thee, goeth out of the way: and he that serves thee, is evil paid: and he that loves thee, is evil entreated: & he that contents thee, contenteth an evil master: and he that haunteth thee, is abused. Farewell world, forasmuch as thou hast such mishap, that services done and presents offered to thee, profit nothing, nor the lies that is told thee, nor the banquets made to thee: nor the faithfulness we give to thee: nor the love we bear to thee. Farewell world, forasmuch as thou deceivest all, backbitest all, & slaunderest all, despisest all, threttest us all: achivest all, and in the end forgettest all. Farewell world, sithence in thy company all men complain, all cry out, all weep, & all men die living. Farewell world, sithence by thee we hate each one the other to the death: To speak till we lie: to love, till we despair: to eat, till we spew: to drink, till we be drunken: to use brokage to tobbery: & to sin, till we die. Farewell world, for being in thee, we forget our infancy, & our green age, with out experience: our youth, in vices: our middle age in turmoiling & business: our old age in lamentations, & all our time counted together in vain hopes. Farewell world, for in thy school we are led till the here be white: the eyes blered: the ears deaf: the nostrils dropping: the forehead wrinkled: the feet gouty: the reins full of gravel: the stomach full of evil humours: the head full of migrain: the body full of sorrow, & the mind full of passions. Farewell world, for none of thy lovers come to good profit, witness those that daily we see, are not false knaves marked in the face? thieves hanged? manquellers headed? robbers by the high ways, set upon wheels? heretics brent? false money makers boiled: killers of their parents, torn in pieces, & other divers punishments of such as are great in favour with thee? Farewell world, forasmuch as thy servants have no more pastime, but to troth by the streets, to mock one another? to seek out wenches? to send presents: to beguile young girls: writ amorous letters: speak to baundes: play at the dise: plede against their neighbour: tell news: invent lies, and study new vices. Farewell world, for in thy palace none will do good to other: for the Boar fights against the Lion: the Unicorn against the Cocodril: the Eagle against the Vultur: the Elephant against the Mynotaure: the Sacre 'gainst the Kite: the mastyf, against the Bull: One man against another, and all together against death. Farewell world, because thou hast nothing, but to our ruin: For often the yerth openeth afore our feet: the water drounes us: the fire burns us: the air mistempers us: the Winter doth kill us: the Summer doth chafe us, the dogs doth bite us: the Cats doth scrat us: the Serpents doth poison us: the Flies doth prick us: the Flees doth eat us: & above all, worldly business devours us: Farewell world, seeing no man can pass thy dominion in surety, for in every path we find stones to stumble at: bridges that brekes under us: snow that letteth us: Mountains that weary us: Thunders that fears us: thieves that rob us: Encounters that hurts us, & evil fortune that kills us. Farewell world, forasmuch as in thy country there is little health: for some be lippers, and some have the French pocks: some the Canker, and some the gout: and some have the foul evil, and some the Sciatica, and some the stone, and some Quotidian fevers: some wandering fevers, some tertian & quartan fevers: spasmes, paulsies, & the most part sick offaire folly. Farewell world, forasmuch as there is not a man in thy house but he is noted with some defaute in his person: For if there be any tall man, the rest is lubberlike. If he have a fair face, his eye shall be too black: If he have a good forehead, it shallbe wrinkled: If he have a welfavored mouth, he shall lack teeth: If he have fair hands, he shall lack fair here, And if he have fair here, he shall have a foul skin. Farewell world, forasmuch as the inhabitants in thee are so variable to manners and conditions, that some will follow the court, some will sail on the sea: and if one would be a merchant, the other will be a husbandman: If the one will be a hunter, the other will be a fisher: If one will govern a Monarchy, the other under pretence of that, will pill & poll the poor people. Farewell world, for asmuch as in thy house there are none that prepare themselves to live, and much less to die: And yet we see some die young, and some in middle age, some in old age, some dye by hanging, and some by drowning: some dye for hunger, & some in eating, sleeping, and resting, and some or they beware, and for the most part or they look for death. Farewell world, forasmuch as we can neither know thy disposition nor condition: For if one be wise, another is a fool: If one be fine, another is of a gross wit: If one be valiant, another is a coward: If one be given to peace, another is seditious: And if one be of a gentle spirit, another is very froward. Farewell world, seeing noman can live with thee: for if a man eat to little, he becomes weak: if to much, he waxeth sick: if a man labour, strait he is weary: if he be idle, he liveth beastly: if he give little, he is called a nigarde: if he give much, he is called prodigal: if a man visit his friends often, he is called importune: if to seldom, full of disdain: If a man suffer wrong, he is called false hearted: And if he do revenge then is he wilful: If he have friends, he is praised: If enemies, he is pursued: if one tarry to long in a place, he waxeth weary: and if he change to often, he is grudged at. Finally, I say, that such things as displease me, I am forced to follow, and that which I would, I cannot come by. O world unclean, I conjure thee thou filthy world, I pray O thou world, & protest against thee thou world, that thou never have part in me, for I demand nor desire nothing that is in thee, neither hope of any thing in thee, for I have determinined with myself that posui finem curis, spes, et fortuna valet. I have finished worldly cares, therefore hope and fortune farewell. FINIS. EXCUSUM LONDINI, IN AEDIBUS RICHARDI GRAFTONI, TYPOGRAPHI REGII. MENSE AUGUSTII. M.D.XLVIII. CUM PRIVILEGIO AD IMPRIMENDUM SOLUM.