THE RESOLVED Gentleman.  
Translated out of Spanish into english, by Lewes Lewkenor Esquire.  Nell piu bell vedere, Cieco. 
Imprinted at London, by Richard Watkins. 1594.  OMNE ◆ BONU ◆ SUPERNE   

Maur. Kyffin to the Reader.  

SEe, here, laid open to thy sight and sense,  
Th' Error, and Terror, of this wretched Life:  
Thy many Foes, the means for thy Defence;  
The glorious End, succeeding all this strife.   

Learn to redeem the precious Time here lent thee:  
Shun false allurements, and Courts subtility:  
Resolve herein: Of thine amiss repent thee;  
So mayst thou vanquish Chance and debility.   

This Allegory, shaped first in French,  
And thence transferred into Castilian verse,  
Containing Rules our follies to retrench,  
Lewknor, by Metaphrase, doth here rehearse.  
Him virtue, Arms, and Languages adorn;  
Hateful reproovers he may justly scorn.   Le Temps s'en va.  

Enforced cause unfeigned Love, prove both constaints in me,  
To raise my Muse (Oh worthless Muse) to sing the worth of thee:  
But what I sing, is that I see, what I assured ever,  
Hopes of your friends are springing still, sweet Lewes do still persever.  
And though nor Arms (oh loss of Arm) nor Muses now are minded,  
Despair not friend, men worthy know, that now the time is blinded.  
And as this perfect subject shows, the subject of thy mind:  
So this pretends, unto thy friends, more resteth yet behind.  
Thou leav'st the Wars (so wills thy friends) leave not the Muse's name.  
All is not lost, though now liked least, what left is unto fame.  
And rest not here, but still run on, we longing are for more.  
Great are thy gifts, yet give us still, thou lesnests not thy store.  
Rob. Dillington.   

TO THE MOST HONOURABLE AND VIRTUOUS LADY, THE LADY ANNE, COUNTESS OF WARWYCKE.  
GReat Alexander (excellent Lady) in nothing more delighted, then in the reading of warlike discourses, especially and above the rest, with greatest affection he embraced the Iliads of Homer, beholding therein, as in a clear looking glass, lively set forth and deciphred in the person of Achilles, the excellent virtues of his own invincible mind.  
trajan likewise found nothing that so much pleased him, as the moral precepts, and philosophical discourses of Pliny.  
Neither is this affection peculiar only to Princes, but in a manner to the most part of men, chief to delight in those discourses, that to the quality of their humours are best agreeing.  
In which regard, considering the sympathy between the noble virtues of your worthy mind, and the most pure intentions of the Author, expressed in this Treatise, I thought I could not to any more worthily offer the patronage of this my poor translation, entreating of a mind virtuously resolved, then to your Ladyship, whose piety, zeal, religion, and virtue, have placed you in that high seat of the worlds opinion, that there is nothing among all degrees, sorts, and sexes, more honoured, nothing more admired, nothing more applauded.  
Accept therefore, good Madam, with your wont favour this poor Translation, the greatest part of whose best substance is your own, as lively, though under the shadow of other names, representing the innated virtues of your own noble mind.  
I own you many other duties, aswell in regard of your many honourable favours, and continual readiness to do me good in Court, since my first coming to her majesties service, as also of the infinite obligations, which not only I, but also my Father, and sundry of my friends, do own unto the memory of your noble deceased Husband, and his most worthy and ever memorable Brother, which I will rather endeavour always to witness, with an ever dutiful and obsequious remembrance, then to endear with any vain circumstances of enforcing words.  
And thus, good Madam, wishing you happiness and honour, to the full measure of your virtues: and me (to my will) occasion and ableness to do you service, I take in all humbleness my leave.  
Your Ladyships ever most faithfully at commandment, Lewes Lewkenor.   

To the Reader.  
THis Treatise was first written in French by an ancient Knight of Burgundy, 
Philip de Comines, in the first chapter of his commentaries, maketh mention of Oliver de La March, to have been a great cause of the wars between king Lewes the xi and the Count of Charoloys, afterwards called Charles the hardy, which showeth that he was a man of no small honour and dignity.  called Oliver de La March, a man, that both in matter of war and peace, bare great sway with Philip Duke of Burgundy, and after him likewise with Duke Charles, his son, whom in all his wars he never abandoned, and was lastly with him at the unfortunate battle of Nancy in the year. 1476. where, by the Duke of Lorraine and the Swyssers, he was overthrown and slain. After this, he had great charge and authority under his daughter, the Lady Mary, sole inheritrix of all the Duke's great estates and Provinces, who married Maximilian Archduke of Austria, afterwards elected Emperor: to whom, leaving two children, a son and a daughter, she died shortly after, some say of the fall from a Horse: But this Author, who bestought to know the truth, saith, that it was through the inward conceit of an excessive sorrow: But once, such was the grief that he conceived of her death, and of the two other before named Princes, under whom he had been brought up, that he retired himself from administration of great matters, to a quiet life: and in his solitariness composed this Treatise. It hath been since translated into sundry Languages, and among the rest, by Don Hernando de Acunia into spanish verse, and dedicated unto the Emperor Charles the fifth: whose translation I do here follow, because I could never yet light on any of the French originals.  
It seemeth that the spaniard in some places much altered the Author's meaning, adding & taking away, according to his own fancy, and fitness of the time in which he translated it, as both by the sequel of this discourse appeareth, as also by his Epistle to the Emperor, which I have here prefixed.  
Some perchance may blame me, of having done the Author whom I follow wrong, by translating into an uneloquent barren Prose, his excellent conceit, expressed in such heroical Verse, and beautified with so many fair Tables & purtraictes, marvelously delighting with the variety of the one, and the sweetness of the other, both the ear and the eye of the reader. To this I answer, with the confession of my fault, that it is true, and withal, that this matter being for the most part allegorical, had in deed been far better to have been handled in verse. Nevertheless, I doubt not, but those that do more esteem substance then shadows, will like never the worse of the matter, for being delivered in a plain speech: Neither had mine Author, if he were alive, any great cause to be angry with me, seeing I have bestowed an English habit upon him, such as it is, though it be no way comparable to the beauty of that, wherewith he was in his own country language attired.  
As for new fangled & fickle conceited heads, that whensoever they read any thing, never go farther than the rind, misliking of every thing, how virtuous matter soever it contain, that thundereth not into their ears with a lofty tempest of words, I would earnestly request them, and that more in regard of their own reputation, then in defence of this poor Treatise (whose harmless innocency shallbe a sufficient shield against whatsoever calumniation) to forbear to censure amiss thereof: for though perchance the baseness of the style, & the shallowness of the invention, yield no harmony to delight their delicate ears, yet it would be moderately judged of, in regard that it containeth nothing but most effectual and moving examples of great piety, laying open to our eyes the vain and deceitful instability of this most wretched and miserable world: and finally teacheth nothing more, than how to live virtuously, and die blessedly. Besides, it maketh honourable mention of sundry excellent Princes: some of which, though long agone deceased, yet such was their nobleness, and piety, that their names are still entertained of the world in all honour and reverence. Others yet living, who through the inestimable blessing, wherewith God and nature hath adorned them, are of all the world most worthily honoured with admirable applause. As for me (like a well mounted Coward in a skirmish, that relieth more upon the goodness of his Horse, than his own valour: So) I hope the worthiness of my Author, and the zealous integrity of his discourse, shall, how faint soever I find mine own desert, be able to free me from the reprehension of those that are wise and well judging, whom I chief desire to please, and to whose censure I willingly submit myself, and this poor Pamphlet.  
L. Lewk.   

To the sacred, Catholic, and Imperial Majesty of great Caesar.  
I know not whether be greater the hardiness of the Resolved Gentleman (of whom this book entreats) in his combats, or my presumption, in dedicating it unto your Majesty, for so small a service, carrieth with it so great a disproportion, that I fear, my good intention shallbe accounted rashness, in presenting so mean a travail, to so high a greatness.  
But two things did chief encourage me to publish it under the glorious name of your Majesty: The one, in respect of the conformity of the discourse unto your majesties virtues, in whom above all the Princes of your time, the profession and practice of true Christian and military discipline chief flourisheth: The other, of communicating unto those of my nation these my poor pains, in translation of this Treatise, which though it be little, yet if they do attentively read and mark it, they shall therein find an excellent hidden treasure, showing in deed the very mark, whereto the perfection of all virtue tendeth.  
It was first written in French by a Gentleman of great worthiness, noble aswell in letters, as in arms: His intention was, to discourse of the dangerous wars made unto us by our Senses, touching divers passages of age, thorough which we run, or rather to speak more properly, are by disorders violently carried. And so under the figure of bodily combats, he layeth the spiritual so lively before our eyes, as cannot but draw the well-iudging Reader, to great consideration of our frail estate. The translation hath not been altogether without some hardness, for that as the tongues are divers, so is their style and manner of phrase exceedingly different. I have left out some things expressed by the Author, as being histories peculiarly concerning himself and his Country, utterly unknown, and unnecessary to us: and in their place, have inserted others of more moment, and more famously known, not only to our own nation, but to all the world beside, which I have not done only by mine own authority, but jointly by advise of men of good judgement, and great skilfulness in either tongue. But my intention being rather to praise the Book, then to endear the translation: I say, that it is such, that both in mine, and other men's judgements, it deserveth your Majesty's protection. And so with all humbleness. I kiss your Imperial hands.  
Your majesties humble servant and subject, Don Hernando de Acun̄a.   

THE RESOLVED GENTLEMAN.  
IN the declining season both of the year and of my age, travailing far from my native home & country, solitary & sorrowful all alone, my thoughtfulnes did of a sudden waken & revive my slumbering memory, by renewing unto her the time and history of my passed youth, and, quickening my senses with a fresh and unusual vigour, forcibly recalling my mind to the consideration of my present state, by suggesting thereunto, infinite and confused discourses of my many variable and dangerous forepast fortunes, did begin at length to argue with me in this sort,  
First, quoth she, Whosoever is forgetful, or careless of himself and his estate, 
Nothing so miserable as the man that liveth careless of his estate.  flieth not the pitch of true honour, neither shall at any time see himself beautified with the glorious brightness of her perfection: in which miserable lethargy if he persevere, then is his case most lamentable, and utterly desperate, as not only deprived of this worlds honour, but also of that everlasting glory and eternal health, to which, blessed minds with the wings of a virtuous industry do aspire. Seest thou not, quoth she, how miserable a face of things, the now passed and gone sweet Summer season hath left unto us? The earth is now despoiled of all her beautiful raiments, and glittering ornaments, her green and fruitful flourishing herbs, her so fairly coloured flowers, and sweet odoriferous smells are gone: Both plains and mountains are now deprived of all their passed pleasures, having nothing left them to delight the beholder's eyes, but a bare and naked barrenness. The high stately Trees, that lately so aloft flourished (all vigour and pleasing greenness being lost) have now neither fruit nor shadow, having yielded all their glory to the nipping rigour of the cold, that hath bereaved them of their fragrant humour: Such as this of theirs, is thy estate, who having now overgon the sundry degrees and seasons, as the Spring, summer, and Autumn of thy age, rest assured, that thy Winter is at hand: only this is the difference, that thou canst not be again renewed in this world, as are these vegetative creatures: for so is it by the eternal wisdom enacted, that there is no going back from that degree of age, whereunto a man is once arrived.  
It behoveth thee therefore well and wisely to ponderate with thyself, that thou now drawest on toward the exceeding dangerous horror of an inevitable passage, kept by an ever victorious enemy, called DEATH, 
The passage of death kept by two Champions, Accident, and debility.  who entertaineth in his daily wages, two mighty and puissant Champions, the one called Accident, the other debility: the combat with one of which, thou canst not by any means avoid. These two unvanquished Champions do keep the great forest of Atropos, against all adventurers: the passage of which, as it is most dangerous, so is it full of horror and amazement. For such is the nature of their challenges, that they never desist fight, till they see him whom they have undertaken conquered and dead, themselves being free from death, and careless of repose. The elder of them, and most terrible, is Accident, who with variable and uncertain kinds of fight, bereaveth, for the most part, the lives of brave and lusty youths, in the prime & strength of their unmellowed years: yea, and sometimes he sporteth himself in the death of old men, women, and children. But hideous debility, with invisible blows, killeth only those that are weak, and languishing. They are so nuzzled in blood, that their daily exercise and practise, is nothing but to murder and destroy mankind, neither is their puissance by any policy to be deluded, nor by any agility, or stratagem to be avoided.  
This being so, judge then with thyself, in how great degree, these mighty foes are to be feared. Thou hast been long agone summoned to this battle, by Excess, their herald at Arms, and therefore the fight being so full of peril, and the matter of such importance, I cannot but much marvel at this thy careless unreadiness, especially seeing at thy very birthday thou wert waged thereunto. Thou dost not exceed Samson in invincible strength, Hercules in valorous courage, Solomon in profound wisdom, Tully in powerful persuading eloquence, Diomedes in vigorous understanding, nor Absalon in delicious beauty: yet no one of these was able to resist these death-bringing Champions, that even now attend thee in the lists. The farther that the uncertain race of thy miserable life lyngreth on, the nearer approacheth the hour of thy inevitable conflict, to which attend no other trumpet, than the doleful knowlling of a deadly Bell. Therefore with all instance I advise thee, to look well about, and to call well all thy wits tegeather, that thou mayst be the better prepared, against the hard brunt of so terrible a reckoning.  
Herewith my thoughtfulness ending, 
Author.  I awaked, as it were out of a drowsy trance or dream, thanking her in the highest degree for these her careful admonitions, and withal told her, that for mine own part, I was ready to perform as much as to a true resolved Gentleman did appertain: and therewithal, presently without delay put on my armour, and like a Knight adventurous, passed forth onward on my way. My horse's name was Desire, my harness tempered in the water of Puissance, my shield, of Hope, my lance, of Adventure, and my sword, of Courage.  
In this equipage, I entered into the quest of my so much renowned adversaries; at the end of two days travail, in which I had not found any adventure worthy the writing, I came into a very green and flourishing Meadow, the name whereof was Worldly pleasure: 
The fair fields of worldly pleasure.  The outward show whereof presented unto my senses such pleasure and delight, that ravished with contentment, forgetful of my journey and undertaken enterprise, I even determined to remain there: But suddenly I might espy a gallant Ruffler, that came fiercely coursing along the Meadow, bidding me defend myself, for without farther delay, he meant to just with me. I was much moved with the roughness of his speech and gesture, as also that he had interrupted me in the sweetness of those delights wherein my senses were lulled a sleep. I asked him if he were a Gentleman? and withal, of what name and Country? My name, quoth he (in an ill tuned harsh and queasy voice) is Ill Diet: 
Ill Diet, his property and parentage.  My office is to put all out of order where I come. My lineage is noble: for Gluttony is my mother, and I am her eldest son: I am maintained with riches, nourished in delices, and highly esteemed in the court of Princes.  
Are you then, quoth I, either of these warriors that do with such unvanquished puissance, keep the forest of unmerciful Atropos? Neither of them, quoth he, but yet their great familiar friend, and live by the same chase which they do: which is, by persecuting of life. And therewithal, 
Ill diet encountereth the author in the plain of worldly pleasure.  he gave me such a blow with his lance of little wit, upon the boss of my guylded target, that I do yet full well feel the weight of his encounter: nevertheless, pulling my spirits unto me, with an eager desire of revenge, with a full carrere, I broke my Lance on his bosom: and forthwith we both laid hands on our sword, 
The manner of their fight.  with which, being tempered in folly, we gave one an other mighty blows of banquets, bathe, quaffings, watchings, wantonness, and such like: wherein Time, the treasure of life is consumed, and nothing hoardward up, but grief and repentance. When he had almost wearied me with these kinds of blows, than he let drive at me a fresh with many disorderly strokes, of dancing, running, leaping, playing at tennis, immoderate exercise, sweating, sudden cold taking, and other such like, so deadly and dangerous greetings, that without all doubt he had then made an end of my days, had not a Lady, 
The author is foiled by Ill diet, and succoured by Reliquia Iwentutis.  called Reliquia iwentutis, comen to my succour, who though in a manner tired with often helping me in such like combats, yet did in defence of my health, put forth the uttermost of her force and virtue, requesting my adversary to leave the fight, and to give me respite, to see yet somewhat farther on in the world. I am contented, quoth he, for the farther he runneth on in the world, and the more trust he putteth in his own forces, the more certain is his destruction: yet before he depart, because he hath behaved himself so stoutly with me, I will bestow a Cap upon him, 
Ill diet presenteth him with a cap.  died in my colours, of such operation and virtue, that it shall distill a fountain of rheums and humours, into his eyes, legs, thighs, arms, and joints, so that in one part or other of his body, while he lives, go where he will, he shall have cause to remember my acquaintance. In giving me which present, he departed with exceeding haste, leaving me extremely turmoiled, and sore in my bones with the weariness of this combat. But my greatest grief was, that whereas in this last conflict, I had been relieved through the help of that little youth that was remaining in me, 
Reliquia iwentutis doth abandon him.  the same also being my chiefest comfort, did now of a sudden abandon me, bidding me hereafter govern myself well, for of her I neither could nor should receive any farther assistance.  
Being thus forsaken, I followed on my way, desolate and comfortless, not knowing whither: Only my thoughtfulness still suggested virtue and valour unto my mind, animating me to persevere on in this important voyage.  
But as my mind doubtfully wavered in sundry and divers thoughts amid this uncertain way, the night drawing on, I might espy an aged fatherly Hermit, 
The author amidds his wandering, lighteth upon the mansion of understanding.  not far off, standing before the door of his Cell, whose grave and courteous aspect, encouraged me to acquaint him with my wandering uncertain voyage, and in friendly sort to entreat him of harbour for that night. The good Hermit bade me from his heart welcome, and by his countenance & word assured me, that I should find him a most friendly and comfortable Host. He himself disarmed me, and bringing me into the inward part of his lodging, did cast a warm mantle about my shoulders.  
Me thought I did never behold a man of more pleasing behaviour, nor one whose conversation did more delight me. After that he had called for water to refresh me, he led me into a little Chapel, exceedingly full of beauty, and even with the very sight moving to devotion; in which, kneeling down at my prayers, I saw sundry works of piety and repentance, curiously wrought and garnished round about with sundry examples of Reformed life, all set forth in so comely a sort, and in so lively colours, that I was even in a manner ravished with the sight thereof, if the good Hermit, considering my passed travail, and the lateness of the night, had not by calling me to supper, withdrawn my mind from the infiniteness of contemplation, whereunto the rare virtue of these glorious sights had moved it.  
As we sat at the table, I could not withdraw mine eyes from beholding his face. His age was not loathsome, but flourishing in virtue, and himself wise, though not according to our common worldly conceit, yet in the depth of that wisdom, that leadeth the soul to salvation. I could not refrain from ask his name, and withal the cause that did move him, being so notable a man, to live retired in so solitary a place.  
To satisfy your demand, quoth he, You shall understand, that I do well know both you and your estate, which did the more move me to give you entertainment. As for me, I am called, Understanding, a name in the world well worthy of honour, though it be of the most part wrested, turned, and misdeemed. I have retired myself unto this place, to the end, that by God's grace and goodness, I might leave the wide way of the world, that leadeth to everlasting perdition. The bread I feed upon is seasoned with sobriety, and the wine I drink is watered with the pure liquor of sincere living: That which sufficeth; 
Reason, the seat or mansion of understanding.  sustaineth me. No passion, envy, or dissension, hath entrance into this house of mine, which is called Reason. Here I hope to lead the rest of my life, and to end my days, 
The end of true wisdom and understanding whereto directed.  in flying the allurements of the flesh and the world, and seeking with my soul, him that did with his blood redeem it.  
Only the thought of sin, is bitter and grievous unto me, from occasion of the which, as I do now live sequestered, so I beseech the guider of the heavens to increase in me perseverance in this life, which I have undertaken. As for your estate, lineage, name, and condition, I am thereof well informed: likewise of the adventurous inquest, which in this dangerous voyage of yours, you have undertaken. Neither am I ignorant of your native country, the marches of Burgundy, in the miserable affliction of which, with war, desolation, and bloodshed, unweeried fortune seemeth to take such pleasure. As for yourself, seeing, like a valiant Martyr, you have determined to bestow your life upon these two tyrannising Champions, whose cruel hands never any of your foregoers that contended with them (how famous or warlike soever) could escape, without bodily death and dissolution, I will give you the best and most expedient advice I can.  
First you must know, that Accident is always, 
Accident, always ready to entrap and bereave life.  and at all hours ready mounted and armed, attended upon with all sorts of mischief, and pernicious engines, to bereave mortal men of their lives. debility helpeth him, as need requireth: so that between them, they suffer none to escape. But notwithstanding all this, the greatness of your enemies puissance, and your danger, yet such is the condition of mankind, and such the course and point whereunto you are now arrived, that fly back or retire, by any means you may not. Therefore proceed on a God's name with a resolved courage: for as the danger is great, so great willbe your glory, if you do but withstand Accident alone: yea so much, that you may advance your arms, and set forth your trophies equally with the most famous conqueror that ever was.  
And insomuch therefore that heedfulness, and wary circumspection, is the chiefest mean to the accomplishment of great things, I will bestow upon you a Lance, so surely steeled with a head of good government, 
Good government a sure defence against all casualties.  that if you use it rightly, and make therewith resistance at any time when Accident shall distress you, he shallbe able to do you but little grievance. But the surest preservative I can give you, is, every day in the morning when you rise, to commend yourself devoutly and zealously unto almighty God, 
The surest preservative against the violence of Accident.  desiring him to be a steadfast guide to your uncertain steps, in the transitory course of this your wandering mortality: and forget not to be thankful unto him, for the many benefits, which for his part so plenteously, without any desert of yours, he hath bestowed upon you.  
With these, & such like speech, we brought supper to an end, where, after having given thanks unto God, he brought me to my chamber: the bed he appointed me was of Quiet security, even such, as I myself would have desired, wherein I was no sooner laid, but that I fell into a sound sweetness of sleep, 
The sleeps of true understanding are secure.  and so continued till the next morning, being awaked with the sound of a little bell, that roung unto divine service: hearing of which I arose quickly, and coming down, did find the Altar called Perfection, covered with the Ornaments of Truth, and a chaplain whose name was Humility, revested in a Pure surplice of perfect charity, beginning the holy service, which after he had ended, and my Host finished his orisons, he saluted me, and demanded what rest I had taken? to which I answered, as I had cause, that I never in my life had received the like contentment & quiet repose. With that, he seeming well appaide that I had so well liked of my lodging, opened a back door, which to my seeming was of Remorse, the lock a clear Looking glass, and the key Desire of knowledge: within the same was a cloister or gallery full of strange emblems, pictures, and engines: to mark & understand the particularity and meaning of whose divers manners & forms, I was with great wonder very heedful and attentive: which the gentle Hermit perceiving, did of himself offer to explain them unto me, 
Understanding doth here represent unto the author, the infinite ways and weapons, wherewith Accident assaileth mankind, and to make him have the more apprehension thereof, doth lay before him the calamitous ends of sundry worthy personages, perishing in divers sorts, & showeth him the weapons wherewith Accident bereaved them of their lives. Cain the first manslayer. Samson, Deianeira & Hercules.  to the end that he might make me the better acquainted with the several kinds of death-bringing instruments, that my adversary Accident doth accustomably use.  
First quoth he, see here this coulter of a plough: with this did envious Cain, guided by Accident, murder his innocent brother Abel. He was the first that did till and delve the ground: likewise the first that in the world did commit the cruel deed of mans-slaughter.  
See here the stately Marble pillars, which mighty Samson pulled down, and therewith the foundation of the Philistian palace, dying himself contented, because with his ruin did also perish those his malicious enemies that had before so insolently triumphed at his miserable calamity. This did he through a noble indignation, and Accident was the only contriver of so great a mischief.  
See here the burning shirt, the deadly gift of a traitorous Centaur, with which Deianeira, poor deceived Lady, thinking to procure wholly unto herself the love of Hercules her famous husband, was occasion both to him and herself of direful and violent deaths, and Accident hereof the only executioner.  
See here the cruel poniards, wherewith in the height of his greatness, 
julius Caesar stabbed with daggers.  most glorious Caesar, having vanquished all public enemies, was by a private conspiracy of his dissembled friends, stabbed & murdered in the senate house, Accident did strangely bring him to this tragical end, as most plainly the Roman histories do make manifest.  
See here the fatal Box, wherein faithless Antipater kept the virulent poison, 
Alexander the great poisoned by Antipater.  wherewith he murdered admirable Alexander king of Macedon, and conqueror of the world.  
See here the great and mighty trunchon of that deathful spear, wherewith fierce Achilles slew magnanimous Hector, 
Hector slain with a spear by Achilles.  bulwark of Troy and terror of the Grecians.  
This was again the fatal bow and steady directed arrow, 
Achilles' slain by Par is with an arrow.  wherewith effeminate Paris, the firebrand of his country, unmanfullie revenging the death of his noble brother, traitorously to death wounded the glory of the Grecian army, when full of rageful love, he nothing less than death suspected.  
This was the unhappy sword, 
Pompey beheaded by the commandment of young Ptolomee.  wherewith the honourable head of great Pompey was cut off, by the unjust commandment of the perjured Egyptian traitor, staining therewith his own glory, and overthrowing the pillar whereupon Rome's greatness was propped.  
See here the envenomed ring, 
Hannibal poisoned out of a ring.  out of which fearless Hannibal took his last draft of deadly poison: the greatness of his invincible mind, choosing by his own hands rather to die, then to yield to any the least thought of captivity, cursing, as he died, the head and kingdom of the disloyal Bithinian Prince, for having violated the laws of hospitality.  
See here the bloody javeline wherewith great king Agamemnon, 
Agamemnon murdered by Aegistus by his wives consent.  by the wicked consent of his detestable wife, was treacherously slain by Aegistus. Ten years had he warred in Asia, commanding all the united forces of the Greekish princes, and lastly having burnt and razed Troy, returning victoriously home, in steed of glorious reposefull happiness, with hope of which he flattered himself, was thus by Accident requited.  
See here the well sharpened Cimitarre, 
Holofernes slain by judith with a Cimitarre.  which guided by the delicate hand of fair judith, did divide the bristled head of sleeping Holofernes from his huge giantlie carcase. Great was the joy of this deed unto the Israelites, and great was herein the success of Accident.  
This is the Hammer, 
Syzara slain by jabel with a nail.  and therewith jointly the Nail, wherewith virtuous jabel ended the unworthy life of wicked Syzara, giving therewith joy to the people, and glory to the greatness of Accident.  
These were the fatal Lances of the two young Theban Princes, 
Etheocles and Polynices slain with mutual wounds of either's Lance.  Polynices and Etheocles; either of which, through ambitious desire to reign, did bereave the other both of life and reign; whose bodies, as while they lived did harbour divided and disagreeing souls, so did their flames after death, when with pompous solemnity they were to be burned, refuse to join.  
This was the sharp piercing dagger, wherewith dissembling joab mortally to death wounded credulous Abner, 
Abner stabbed by joab.  while he held him in his arms, embraced with a cheerful disguised show of gladness.  
This was the well directed Stone, and this the far reaching Sling, 
Golyas slain by David with a sling and a stone.  out of which the feeble hand of young David guided it, to the fall and death of great and puissant Golyas, who alone was a terror to the whole Israelites.  
This was the well employed Halter, wherein proud Aman was strangled, 
Aman strangled with a halter.  for endeavouring with damnable intent to murder and destroy the chosen and beloved people of God, whereby the virtuous Queen Hester procured great honour to Mardocheus, and executed in Aman the mighty power of Accident.  
We had not visited the fourth part of this place, so many, so strange, and so diverse, were the instruments that Accident used to surprise men's lives withal, when the good Hermit withdrew me from thence, willing me not to forget, but mindfully to consider of those his relics which I had seen.  
Being thence departed, when I began with perfect judgement to consider of the things which I had viewed, though the strangeness and variety of them were somewhat delightful: yet could I not but feel a great tenderness and perplexity in my mind, to consider that so many great and excellent men, had been by Accident so cruelly murdered and made away; some, even at such instantes, as the vain frailty of this deceiving world did promise unto them a stable and firm estate in all glory, happiness, and contentment: withal it was a grief unto me, that I had not seen the rest which remained, the which in appearance was ten thousand millions of times more, then that which I had seen.  
But withal I wondered much, that among so many remarkable trophies of Accidents victories, I had not seen any of his companion debility: which my friendly Host perceiving, told me, that if I did at my return repair unto him, he would likewise satisfy me therein, and make me acquainted with the wondrous puissance of debility: As for now, he chiefly desired to prepare me against the violence of Accident, as being of the two the more cruel and sudden; and then he discoursed unto me of many great and mighty Princes, that he had at unawares surprised and murdered, some tasting of delicious meats, some riding and managing of proud horses, some giving audience to suitors, 
Sundry princes bereaved of their lives, even in the midst of their sweetest pleasures.  some riding in triumph to the capitol, some by sea, some by land, some by fire, some by fall of houses, some by thunder, some by earthquakes, some in dancing, some in singing, yea and some fast embraced in the arms of their beloved mistress, even in the pleasing action of their love.  
Herewith the aged Father, being loath to retain me any longer from my intended voyage, with tearful eyes embracing me, recommended me unto God, willing me not to be unmindful of his counsels, and withal requested me at my return, if I did escape with life, to come visit him: which promising him to do, I presently put on my armour, and taking the Lance of Good government which he had given me, I leapt a horseback, and went forth on my journey.  
I had not long travailed, when I entered into a valley, that did directly lead me to a plain, which in appearance seemed to be above measure great and spacious.  
This plain I speak of, 
The plain of tyme.  is called Time, which though it be large & far extended, yet scarcely doth the passenger come unto it, when he is already beyond it; and the nature thereof is such, 
The nature thereof.  that pleasure & contentment do pass through it so unconstantly, and with such swiftness, that they leave in celerity the winds behind them.  
I was no sooner come thither, but my Horse, 
Desire hardly restrained.  whose name (as before I told you) was Desire, took so strongly the head, that do what I could, I was not able to stay him, till he had brought me far beyond the middle of the plain: where, striving to restrain his course, I might espy before me a fierce Champion, that seemed in guise of skilful warrior to bid me battle.  
His armour was of Travail, the courser that he bestradde was called pain, his shield resembled the Sun, in which were figured exercise and sloth, drowsy slumber, and watchful diligence. His coatarmour was of Constant suffering; and by his outward show, it seemed that he had been in many broils, and newly escaped out of a great battle. He thought I could have stayed a great while to behold him and his demeanour; but that the sharpness of his salutation gave me no such leisure: 
Hear the Author encountereth age, and striveth mightily to keep him off, but nevertheless in the end he is constrained to yield quietly unto him.  for without delay, putting spurs to his enraged Courser, he furiously made towards me with his Lance enrested: on the other side, I was not behind hand to requite his kindness, but putting my Horse to the utmost of his carrere, met him with so rude an encounter, that though he overthrew me to the ground, yet I made him totter in his saddle: at which, growing impatient, he laid hand on his sword, and let drive at me with all his force, wherewith he had then without doubt given me a mortal wound, had not I kept him off, 
Age striketh him with his sword of many years.  and defended myself with my Lance of Good government. Nevertheless he ceased not to encroach still nearer and nearer in upon me, lending me so many sturdy strokes, with his sword of Many years, that I waxed (in a manner) unable to help myself any farther, against the heavy never-ceassing blows of his unresistible arm; and at length, to make my misery the greater, my lance of Good government flew in pieces: wherewith, and thorough the thumps which he had given me, my head began to be giddy, my legs to faint, and my eyes to dazzle; wherewith, upon my entreaty (he likewise, being in a manner breathless) we agreed to take a little pause.  
After I had a while refreshed myself, and recovered breath, casting mine eye upon my adversary, and in my secret judgement, much commending the gravity of his look, and the braveness of his behaviour, I requested him in kindness, to tell me his name and condition. To which answering me in very courteous language, like a man of good judgement and settled sense: My descent and lineage, quoth he, is of great antiquity; my proper name is, Age, true register of every man's time, in which I do never deceive any, neither do I give my consent to falseness. None can pass through the plain of Time, without coming under my hands; and whosoever otherwise doth think, is far deceived, and in error. For under this condition were borne all those that ever enjoyed the fair light of this world, or ever at any time shall: of which, if any escape my hands, then can he not wander far in this field of Time, but must of necessity die in the unfortunate unripeness of his youth: and to this necessity are subject, as well Princes, as private men, the fair, rich, noble, and fortunate, as those of contrary condition. Therefore, seeing you are now so far travailed in this plain, that you are come within the compass of my power, either without farther resistance, yield yourself quietly unto me, or you shall too late repent, with many a groaning sigh, that ever you strived with me.  
But I, not being yet so thoroughly quailed as to yield unto his persuasion, settled myself to resistance: so that defying me a fresh, he let drive at me a new with as great fierceness as ever he had done before, laying with his sword, which as I told you was of Many years, so heavy load upon me, that all my limbs began to shake with a faint and trembling numbness: My trusty Lance of Government was broken before, & now also coming to the close, he forcibly pulled from me my shield of Hope: finding myself in which miserable estate, my weapons taken a way, my forces declining, and my body weak and decayed, like a man forlorn, I began to faint in my resistance, which my adversary perceiving, with a noble magnanimity also slacked his fight: so that at length, 
He yieldeth unwillingly to Age.  finding no other remedy, though much against my will, I was content to render myself unto him, giving him my faith and promise to remain his true prisoner, and to pay him any reasonable ransom that he should demand: who, as a great Lord doth his humbled servant, so received he me with signs of love, taking from me my right gauntlet, in token of his conquest, telling me how behoveful and honourable a thing it was for a prisoner to maintain inviolably his word and faith, especially being a gentleman: as for his part, he would use me well, and grant me my liberty: but it behoved me, on pain of perjury and dotage, 
Age enjoineth the author to the accomplishment of some things upon pain of perjury and dotage.  to promise him the accomplishment of some such things, as for mine own honour and good he would enjoin me to. To which, when I had with all willingness agreed, First, quoth he, you shall fly from the territory of Love, whose Lord is an abusing flatterer, whose pleasure is a secret bait, containing under it nothing but gall and bitterness, and finally, whose sequel is nothing but sorrow and repentance, 
love.  having nothing in it that is true, but deceit only: so that it becometh not a man of honour, being once received into my acqueintance, to apply himself to any such follies, of which he cannot expect any other fruit, than grief of time misspent, burden of conscience, vain expense, and derision of the world; besides a thousand other inconveniences.  
Besides, 
Marriage.  there is a valley called Marriage, which take heed by any means you enter not into, for there are perils and troubles without number: with which I would not have him, whom I have taken in protection, not so much as in thought encumbered.  
I would have you also leave on the left hand, 
Amorous dssportes.  seeing they are things to us impertinent and ill beseeming, all wanton conversations, dancings, sing, and such like other amorous disports, as the school of idleness bringeth forth.  
But above all I admonish you, that you keep yourself sequestered and free from the courts of great Princes, 
Courtly life.  where the uncertain good and honour ambitiously pursued, though obtained (which unless you have a better spokesman than Virtue, seldom happeneth) yet never lightly countervaileth the certain losses and assured dangers, that follow the fickleness of that subjecteth life.  
Thither repair many gallant flourishing youths, pursuing Love and Honour, with sumptuous attire, high looks, proud words, and disdainful thoughts: but in the end, foiled and overthrown with Ouer-riotous expense, reap nothing in their fall and poverty, but laughter, mockery, and contempt, unless it be, that perchance against their will, they learn to be humble.  
But many there are of my acquaintance, who having overgon, and spent the posting years of unmistrustfull youth, either in the universities at home, or in travails, or the wars abroad, and by long and painful diligence obtained such virtues and qualities as to the service of their Prince & Country are fitting, do come at length to make show of themselves, in this most fair and magnificent market of the world, the Court, flattering themselves with great hope of reward, honour, and advancement: and that the rather, because they see there jetting up and down, a number of unprofitable peacocks, that have no worthy thing else in the world to vaunt on, then only the colour of their plumes. But great is herein their error, and as rare their preferment, as the sight of a black Swan. I do not deny, but sometimes such a miracle may happen: yet for the most part, Princes are not carried away with a sudden show of virtue, neither is it requisite they should: neither do they always dispense their favours and disgraces, according to the worth and worthlessness of each one, but accordingly, as they are by great personages that possess near places about them informed, who either through foretaken conceit, or by envious Sycophants wrongly persuaded, or some other occasion, do often speak the worst, or else being by many experiences warned and taught, in such cases to be wary & circumspect, lest the following behaviour of the party commended, may be such, as shall give no credit to his commender, willbe altogether silent, so that the chiefest labour must be, to win the steadfast favour of one of these great men: which who so undertaketh, good God, with what a sea of miseries shall he find himself environed. For though he miss the almost inevitable danger of factions and partialities, wherein many have made shipwreck of their estate, in being by the one sharply persecuted, & by the other but weakly defended: yet such is the number of malicious parasites, that wait upon the fortune of great Lords; such the multitude of flatterers, deceivers, supplanters, underminers, espials, and such like vermin, that attend upon their court and table, all covering their villainous pretences, under the mask of virtue, fidelity, and officious duty: that being often betrayed, and abused, howsoever their outward show be honourable and courteous, they will, and can not in wisdom otherwise choose, but beware whom they admit into such degree of favour; as, that they will for his preferment adventure their credit: So that the newcome Courtier, yea, though he incline to such humours, as a mind well framed can hardly endure to embrace, shall either as worthless be rejected, or else so faintly favoured, that he shall not at the years end be the better two chips for it, but perchance much the worse.  
If in the mean time he Court it out among the Gallants in brave apparel, 
The miserable estate of him that pursueth in court.  gaming, and liberal expense, he shallbe condemned as ambititious, of light behaviour, and unstaid: if otherwise, disgraced with all the titles of baseness, as unsuted to the royalties of a Prince's court. If he speak, talk, or write; yea, or but study matter of estate, he looks into the state, and is dangerous: if he do neither, he is argued to be ignorant, and of no experience. If he have travailed strange Countries, seen the courts of foreign Princes, lived in their Palaces, or served in their wars, thereby the better to learn and observe their manner, custom, discipline, and language, suspicion shall attend upon all his actions, the offer of his service suspected, and his show of zealous fidelity misconstrued. If he have none of these ornaments to set forth himself withal, then shall he be (and not unworthily) deemed uncapable of employment in his Prince's service. So miserable is his estate, who pursueth in Court, that his imperfections are hated, his virtues suspected, and either of both a like able to bar him from preferment. 
Nothing more rife in the court of Princes, then virtuous men, honourless and unregarded.   
And thus much assure yourself, if my experience (which what it is, my name declareth) be any whit to be eredited, that I have not marked any thing more rife in the courts of Princes (yea though themselves exceedingly virtuous) then virtuous men honourless and unreregarded, which happeneth not always thorough their default, being by envy & information of others misled, but rather by a malignity of fortune, which still striveth to depress Virtue, or rather of a direct antipathy between them.  
Sundry excellent Princes have, by divers their ingenious conceits, made manifest, that the complaint of old decayed Courtiers against their ingratitude, is often times unjust, and not they, but the unthriving Courtiers fortune to be blamed.  
Besides we see, that the great and all-ruling King of the universal palace of this fair world, doth not, in the distribution of his temporal rewards and punishments, always respect the good or ill deserts of him, whom he honoureth with the one, or afflicteth with the other.  
Seeing therefore the favour and firm affection of great men so hard to be obtained, and hopes of courtly advancement so uncertain, and depending upon such long merits, that the small remainder of your life shall be tired out and ended, before you shall by long painful service be able to procure in your prince's mind a full persuasion of your virtue, loyalty, and faith: If you will follow my counsel, leave off the Court to men of great happiness, and bend your mind wholly to the obtaining of that celestial honour and preferment, which never faileth them that do unfeignedly seek it.  
Let this then suffice as touching the Courtly life, whose philosophy being a point beyond either moral or natural: as the joys thereof are exceeding cheerful & gladsome, 
The virtuous man desireth advancement, only thereby to be able to do his prince and country service.  to those that are beautified with the rays and sunshine of their prince's favour, so great must needs be the grief and discomfort to those, whose virtues and industries are depressed, and they for lack of due favour and encouragement, made unable to do their Prince and Country service; especially, having wholly dedicated thereunto themselves, and the fruits of their experience.  
But having herein been somewhat long, I will briefly conclude with the rest of such precepts, as in respect of your honour and welfare I charge you to observe.  
Seek not to find Feast or Pleasure in the wilderness of lost Time, for never did any yet in the highest degree possess it, that did not in th'end, with many losses, and grievous pains, repent it. Apart yourself therefore from thence, and while you have leisure, use virtuously the precious, but not long to be enjoyed, jewel of Time.  
Iustes, tourneys, triumphs, wearing of Lady's liveries, and other the like, entertained by green and flourishing years, take heed that by any means you embrace not.  
Take the better way, reserving your bodily strength, to the combat of those valorous Champions that attend you and your soul to your God and maker.  
These my counsels, I do advise you to observe, not so much in respect of my commandment; as of the hurt and damage that may ensue unto you in transgressing them. To which I constantly made answer, that I would assuredly perform as much as I had promised, and he enjoined, especially seeing the not performance of them would turn to the greatest harm of myself.  
Well, said he, I leave it to your own choice and liberty, to do as best you liketh: but for the present, because it waxeth late, I would have you directly to take your journey towards the barren desert of Old Age, so plain and discovered a way by the course of Nature, that you cannot miss it; and there you shall assuredly find, and perchance sooner than you expect, the adventure you seek: As for your Horse and armour, I do frankly return them unto you again, with free liberty to departed; and withal, in token of my acquaintance, I will bestow upon you this present (delivering me therewith a fair silver Gorget of Mail) the property of which is such, 
Age presents the author with a silver Gorget of mail.  that the longer you live, the more shall it conform the colour of your hear and beard in suitableness to the same. Which gift of his, when I had received, he took his leave, putting his Courser to so swift a pace, that I did scarcely hear or see the motion of his feet. And as for me, I departed on my way, strait as a line, towards the desert of Old Age: in which sort, travailing upon the utmost confines of Time, I came to a high Mountain, whose descent was a steep and speedy Downfall, so that I was in much shorter space at the foot, than I had been in climbing to the height thereof. From thence, I galloped apace towards the desert to which I was directed. But I had not long travailed, when of a sudden I was in a cross way wanderingly lost, my memory distracted, and my mind utterly forgetful of all those good advices lately delivered me by Age, 
He entrethinto the path of deceit.  in so much, that I entered into a wrong path, called, Deceit, whose issue is never other then loss and repentance, though the going in, being a little glazed over with a fair dissembled show of True pleasure, do beguile the eye of our judgement.  
Within it, was great verdure and freshness, and though the season of the year were faded and passed, yet was the ground diversified and enameled with an infinite variety of sweet smelling flowers, so that it represented unto my soone-yeelding senses, an extremity of pleasure and delight: For Deceit, who in exterior show suggesteth a world of pleasures, did now represent unto me all the delices, comforts, and well savouring joys, that ever in my youth I had tasted.  
Then again began I to acquaint myself with Careless vanity, oblivious altogether of my former yielding, and of my vowed promise and acquaintance with Age: I respected nothing but the present pleasure of my senses, finding myself, by a strange metamorphosis, freshly inveigled with that error, which I thought I had long ago lost and left behind me.  
My passed pleasures of hawking, hunting, arms, love, and Ladies, all returned with the very self same sweetness, and pleasing delightfulness, as when they first possessed my gay, youthful, and flourishing years. Withal, in came Vain Conceit, building towers in the air, suggesting unto me False courage, to undertake things unpossible, and Credulous lightness, to believe things utterly improbable, without reason or foundation.  
My Horse went on amain with a full carrere, fearing neither bridle nor bit, Plains & Mountains were to him alike: as for me, he saw me such a stranger to myself, that he neither knew me, nor obeyed me.  
And all this confused perturbation of my senses, was so cunningly contrived by Well coloured Deceit, that quite forgetful of my way, without finding any error at all in my steps, I was led to the most sense-pleasing and delightful place, that I could possibly have imagined.  
Within the same stood a gorgeous & stately royal palace, whose exterior pompous and delectable show, made me verily persuade myself, that never death, or any of his champions, could be able to approach unto a place so beautiful and delicious. The walls seemed to be of clear refined silver, the windows of bright transparent crystal, the pinnacles of pure well burnished gold, that glisteren like the Sunbeams, and the coverings and roofs of radiant Amber, whose goodly fairness and splendour was such, that with amazement it dazzled the beholder's eyes. Many beautiful Ladies were at the windows, richly adorned with pompous habits, strange attires, rare devices, and most alluring sweet behaviours. Many brave youthful Gallants were among them, entertaining them with courtly gestures, and amorous well uttered speeches. There was beside, a most delicious music of many well consorted Instruments; to which, some were listening, some dancing, some discoursing: in fine, all was amorous, and moving unto love.  
Deceit was now become so quiet, and absolute a lord and ruler of my fancy, that I adjudged myself most fortunate and happy, in being arrived at such a Paradise, so void of grief, and so replete with all sorts of pleasures, as this seemed to be: Whereupon, going to the Porter, whose name was Abusion, I friendly entreated him, 
Abusion the porter of loves palace.  to tell me what might be the name of this sumptuous edifice, wherein was assembled such a noble company of Gentlemen and Ladies, with such magnificent variety of pleasures and delights: who briefly answered me, 
The palace of love.  that he was called the Palace of Louc. At which very name of Love, I started back, as at a thing altogether disproportionable to my years and profession. When Desire, suggesting again unto my senses a world of delights and pleasures, the more I withdrew my mind, the more did inflame it forward. But strait, Remembrance stepped in, recording unto me the history of things passed, and crying out aloud, that I committed perjury, and withal did for ever purchase mine own ruin and perdition, showing me therewith a clear crystal glass, wherein, besides many of my passed matters, I saw Ancient Age noting up all my steps, as one that meant to call me in question for transgressing his counsels. And likewise I might therein perceive my beard to be all mingled with silver hairs, and my head to be overcast with snow: The sight of which, did work in me a marvelous amazement. Desire nevertheless, with many sweet allurements, employed his greatest force to bring me under loves subjection. But Remembrance did so lively show unto me the ill agreeing deformity thereof; persuading me, to let that pass, which was already passed, rather than of new to harbour any such troublesome tyrannical guest, within the weakened mansion of my aged senses: That howsoever vehemently swayed by desires temptations, yet when I had recalled my mind to full consideration thereof, I thought good to apart me from his counsel, as being both dangerous and dishonourable, fully resolving, not to be at any time so overtaken again: so that all Desires endeavours proving vain, Remembrance taking me by the hand, guided me from that counterfeit path of Deceit, into the true way of Good aduice, with right direction where my journey lay: And there I took my farewell of Love, and withal of her, for whose sake (while I was Loves enthralled subject) the pains and torments I endured, seemed to be but pleasures and comforts. Who so is desirous to know her, let him content himself with this much, that she is one, whom Nature hath more richly beautified with grace, comeliness, and perfection, than my worthless and uneloquent pen can any way express. But the everliving righteousness, whose wisdom is infinite, and whose judgement impenetrable, knowing the end of my pretences, was pleased to assist me with his gracious goodness, so that I went on the right way, to accomplish my faith and promise, which I had given unto Age: and such was the haste I made to be at my journeys end, that I found myself arrived in the Country of Feeble old Age, 
The desert of old Age.  before I myself knew how. There the earth trembled▪ and every thing seemed to be a quagmire. The air was dark and misty, the smells noisome, the ground barren, yielding miseries in steed of fruit, and the rents that there were gathered, was grief and anguish.  
There groweth not any tree, that beareth either fruit or flower; all is full of barren briars, and withered thorns. There is not any meat of good taste, nor herb yielding juice: in fine, it is a destroyed part, dry, fruitless, and consumed: in the which, there is not any nurture, or very little, and that, mingled with care and sorrow. The fountains there are of sufferance, & the broke of bitterness. The moons brightness, and the suns glister, is there obscured with darkness and fogs. The sweetest songs accustomably used in this barren desert, are sorrowful complaints of time misspent, and for good things passed, that can not be recovered. The longer a man lingereth there, the less repose he findeth: every thing yieldeth grief, and Infirmity is there enthronized as princess, and regent of the whole territory. Health hath no entry, but is thence perpetually banished: comfortable mirth appeareth not, being suppressed by fretting Melancholy, one of the chiefest Lords of this desert.  
A small journey from thence, 
The Island of Decrepitude.  lieth an Island of diseased infirmity, whose proper name is Decrepitude, where health died, making grief and sorrow his executors, bequeathing unto them all his rights and possessions. I have not as yet been there, but I am comen so near, that the very air thereof maketh all the joints and members of my body to shake and tremble: judge then what effect it will work in him, that shallbe therein landed and arrived?  
Thence, being once entered, there is no departing, till the soul do free itself from out the encumbered bodies prison, aspiring to a better habitation.  
But which of all is strangest, such is the miraculous working and vigour thereof, that from the extremity of Old Age, it constraineth men again to return unto the very extremities of Childhood; then the which, what wonder can be greater. Feebleness is there so strong, that it taketh from Strength, absolutely his being.  
The eyes brightness, being of man's life the chiefest comfort, is there in such sort turned to obscurity and dimness, that it scarcely seethe any thing at all: and yet that little is in such imperfect dazzling manner, that all the things discerned, seem to be but images of death.  
No benefit is so great that it can yield soundness of health or comfort, and every little evil is so efficient, that it easily becometh mortal: each little grief offendeth deadly without resistance, as in a rendered overthrown Country, where life hath nothing, but only the name and appearance.  
I know this Decrepit estate to be a thing fearful unto flesh: yet surely it is a great benefit of God, by whose goodness the virtuous and patiented bearing thereof, may be a great mean to our salvation, which of his endless mercy, I beseech him, that we may all obtain.  
But to come back to my discourse, being once in this unpleasant desert of Old Age, I could not find any path, gate, way, or issue, to get out, unless I would enter into that of Decrepitude, and therefore I entertained myself, the best that I could, in that health less province: in which, after I had a little rome up and down, I espied sundry people both men and women, 
Sundry abusers of Age, & deceivers of themselves.  that did busy themselves in the practice of strange and cozening sleights: some to hide and dissemble their years, filled up the wrinkled furrows of their face with paintings, some died their heads and beards with waters of their own mingling, some pulled quite out the grey hears that appeared in them, thinking so to rid themselves of those hateful messengers of decaying life. But Old Age, would not consent unto such falseness, protesting against them, that they laboured in vain, for there is no possibility of turning back one jot from that degree of his acquaintance, and subjection whereto they are once arrived. Being once withered and decayed with Age, to flourish and wax green again, is not granted to any mortal creature. The end of such devices and endeavours, tendeth in fine to nothing, but to filling of the Churchyards.  
But leaving this discourse, because it breedeth melancholy. Old Age, as I tell you, had so entangled me, that though I would feign have gotten out of his jurisdiction, yet could I not by any means find any way or passage, which at the first moved me to be very heavy and sorrowful, and that the rather, because I saw my youth unrecoverable, and my grief remediless. But even as the poor silly bird, newly enclosed within the prison of his Cage, doth for a time at the first, sullenly lament the loss of his abridged liberty, till at last, seeing the bootelesnesse of his sorrow, he beginneth to comfort himself, with thinking of his sweet for passed pleasures, as of the delightful trees, and sweetly smelling briars, wherein he had harboured the pleasant chirping of his little lovely companions with whom he had conversed, and such his other recreations and pastimes, whilst he enjoyed the freedom of the fields, and even with those thoughts of comfort, forgetteth his melancholy, and falleth sweetly a singing: so fareth it with me, who, though my present estate moved me to heaviness and sorrow, yet considering the necessity thereof, and with all my many passed youthful pleasures, I framed my mind to a contentment, and so began to travail and search each part and coast of the country through, to see if I could find any part or corner thereof, exempted from the general barrenness of the rest, to th'end, I might there pass away my time with less grief.  
Having travailed awhile, I happened of a sudden to espy therein a place, so full of goodliness and riches, that I could not refrain from wonder in beholding it. Within the same was a lodging of inestimable worth called Good adventure. 
Good Adventure.   
Then first began I to perceive the falseness of the worlds common opinion, which is, that there is not in Old age any pleasure: whereas surely there is a thing called Study, in whose virtuous exercise a vicelesse Youth passed over, doth manifest the contrary.  
But you must understand, 
I take it, that by this study he meaneth Contemplation.  that I mean not the fond study of vain worldly trifles, but rather that which teacheth us to scorn and contemn the brickle (and howsoever fair guilded) yet soon defaced allurements of this world, and so to live and die, that our soul once freed from the mortal bands of our heere-soone perishing body, may through the merits of our Saviour, attain to everlasting blessedness and rest.  
This I speak of, consisteth in fruitfully reading the sacred volume of the holy Scriptures, & the precious works of those godly Doctors & Fathers, whose blessed pens have divinely prescribed unto us, the way of perfect repentance, and virtuous perfection, teaching us nothing but that, which still we ought to contemplate with the eyes of our mind; that is, to live and die well. For there is not any thing under heaven so hapless, heavy, and miserable, as for a soul sleeping carelessly in sin, to approach the dolorous passage of Death. Of this desirable place I speak off, the walls were all round about trimmed with Delight. 
The Palace of contemplation.  The Portal at which you entered, figured forth nothing but Pleasure. The ditches were secure, deep, and well trenched, curiously wrought in great conformity by Good exercise. The Chapel was of Zeal, the Windows of Charitable Love, the Gate, wherein was the entrance and going forth, of heedfulness, and the Bridge of Industrious Travail. The Vanes and Streamers of the house were of Pleasure, which glistering aloft, showed all the passers by, that there was the school and practise of Virtue and Learning. No Idleness dared to approach this blessed Mansion: for Diligence was the Porter. Only Emulation is suffered to enter, who there serveth as a spur to Virtuous operation.  
In fine, the time there bestowed, is in the only learning and exercise of that heavenly philosophy, whereto whosoever arriveth, may well be accounted happy and blessed.  
That I was desirous to enter into this blissful place, no man needeth to doubt: but in the end, seeing the gates did not of themselves open unto me, I was bold to go unto the porter, with earnest entreaty, that I might, by his favour & means, be suffered to enter. To which he answered: this house, said he, which is the very Perfection of study and enemy of ignorance, is not to be dallied withal, or to be entered with sportfulness and scorn. For within it is enclosed the Treasure of life, and the Riches of the worlds wisdom: it is kept and governed by a beautiful Princess, whom it hath pleased the highest to bless with a Happy ever-during youth: she never changeth estate, living free from death's subjection: her proper name is Memory, 
Memory Lady of the palace, of Contemplation  of all the world highly honoured and esteemed. From her are derived all the chief pleasures wherewith Old age is honoured, whom through wisdom and experience she ennobleth with regard and worship.  
Where she is entertained, she never breedeth weariness, making him blessed with whom she pleaseth to harbour. Some there are, whom she flieth, though they labour never so earnestly to be acquainted with her: for in her operations, is so great & strange a secret of nature, that neither Socrates, nor Plato, noral the deep piercing wits of the passed Philosophers, have been able to define whence, or how this corruptible body of ours, is beautified with so pure and excellent an ornament, as this of Memory. But for my part, I do verily believe, without any doubt or question, that this being so singular a good, proceedeth only from the miraculous working of God, and not from any settled habit or engrafted gift of nature: for as the soul hath by God her habitation & domicile appointed her in the body, so hath Memory she in the soul itself, whence she springeth, 
Memory, is a thing celestial and divine, derived only from God, without having any relation to nature.  using her qualities and operations. And seeing the soul is an invisible peculiar frame and workmanship of God, as a spark of his divinity: It followeth then also, that my Lady and Mistress, must needs be a severed work of God alone, without having any relation to Nature. 〈…〉 Her excellence, nobility, and birth, considered, and withal, the notable comforts, and sweet savouring virtues that she in herself containeth, she hath ever been of all wise men honoured in high degree, as one of the chiefest beauties and ornaments of life.  
Since I first came acquainted with her service, I have been in stead of her servant, as it were her guardian: 
Diligence the porter of Memory.  My name is Diligence, and I continually accompany her, in respect of the vehement love I bear unto virtuous study, whose true perfection without her help is not to be obtained. The only way to see her perfectly, is through Virtuous industry, first by exercising our minds to learn and know, and then fastly to retain that which we have once learned and known.  
But because I see you are arrived to this uncomfortable soil of Old Age, taking compassion of your weakened forces, I will accomplish your desire, hoping somewhat therewith to refresh and comfort the languishing of your spirits.  
Whereupon being by this industrious Porter brought to the presence of Memory, I was of her saluted with a most pleasing and gentle behaviour.  
Her attire was sumptuous and rich, 
The attire of Memory.  embroidered in marvelous art by Cogitation round about, strangely presenting unto my view, a large course and history of Time, both past and present. And withal, the more to subtilize my remembrance, she made me smell to a Garland of Knowledge, which she ware, whose excellent and delicious odour, did so refresh the vigour of my senses, that me thought I was not half so earthly as before.  
After some few conferences, I requested her to favour me with the sight of her library, which I imagined could not be but rare & magnificent. But she briefly answered me, that whosoever determined to study there, may not use any other books or lessons, than such as Remembrance yieldeth him: for it were labour lost, and mere vanity, for old men to begin first then to study. Their exercise ought rather to be in well keeping and retaining that, which before time they had seen and learned, and therewith in showing the fruits of their wisdom to recreate themselves, and to counsel others.  
But now tell me, said she, what is the thing that you do demand of me, & you shall find me ready to yield you satisfaction?  
Being comforted with her courteous and gentle language, I did without delay acquaint her with the circumstances of my adventurous inquest, telling her, how that my thoughtfulnesse had instantly moved me to visit the forest of Atropos: which voyage I had now resolved, and withal, to enter in single combat with either of the two famous Champions, debility or Accident, to whose guard the place is committed, beseeching her earnestly to tell me, if she had heard, read, or found, in any ancient books, writings, or records, hidden figures, or long remembrance of times, that any of these Champions had been put to the foil, by any of those worthy men that at sundry ages have lived so puissant and conquering in their times: For if any one had at any time, or in any age vanquished them, I would not doubt, but by God's assistance, to go as far, as he that had gone farthest. But in fine, howsoever the matter should go, I told her, that I was resolved to win either glory with my sword, or with my body death.  
Memory, having with attention heard my speeches: I will not, said she smilingly, entertain you with long discourses, but giving you the best advise I may, let you with your eyes behold the certain event of this most dangerous enterprise, in which you are engaged. And opening therewith a Postern gate, she placed me in a great immense and spacious plain, called the Universal Sepulchre of mankind, 
The universal sepulchre of mankind,  open and discovered on every side, without either Rock or Mountain, so that there was no limit nor restraint to the eye, but that it might boldly and frankly throw his view so far, as the sharpness thereof could pierce or discern: and as the plain was infinite, so was the number of Graves & Monuments: upon most of the which of those of the right side, were Epitaphs, and famous Figures of the name and being of human creatures, whom Death had swallowed and devoured.  
Mark now there, said she, if you can, and note up the number of those interred bodies, who sometimes flourished with such applause of the world in great pomp & honourable estate. But if your wits be not able to comprehend them, nor no wisdom, learning, or retentive, able to register them, then rest assured, that the force of your adversaries are mighty, and to be feared: for they are all the spoils of debility and Accident. 
The Churchyard of Memory.  See there the Churchyard of Memory, wherein you shall find buried all those whose names are in the sacred history of the Bible mentioned (Enoch and Elyas only excepted, of whom it pleased the heavenly wisdom otherwise to dispose.) There shall you find all those, whose names Homer's heroical verse, or Liuies majestical prose, hath made glorious to the world. Those that Valerius and Orosius spoke off, lie here all in a reckoning. Old, young, rich, poor, fair and foul, lie here altogether encoffined. The great warriors of Babylon, the learned Philosophers of Athens, the vanquishing Grecians, and the overcome Trojans, the Amazonian Viragos, and the Roman Matrons, being summoned by DEATH, have all accomplished her commandment, & here their carcases do rest.  
I saw there, of Queens and Princesses, Ladies and Gentlewomen, of high degree, such a number, that it passed imagination: of which, though some had been glorified with regal diadems, some shined with admirable beauty, some adorned with infinite wisdom and incomparable virtue, yet had no one of them all been able to defend herself against the Nevermissing Dart of Lives enemy.  
There were Popes and parish Clerks, Cardinals and Carters, 
All degrees alike to death.  Bishops and Beggars, patriarchs and peddlers, though before time in degree unequal, 
Mors sceptra ligonibus aequat.  yet now to the worms alike, who found no difference in their flesh. Their bones, being confusedly put together, of such likeness, that one was not to be known from another. Emperors and slaves, Kings and Ploughman, Lords and vagabonds, lawgivers & Louts, were there all under Death's clapnet. None of them escaped, nor ever shall thence bring news to the world, of the good or evil entertainment he there received. Retired Virgins, new professed Nuns, and aged Abbesses, virtuous Matrons, and wanton Curtizanes, all had there yielded up their lives to Death's commandment.  
In fine, such was the infiniteness of the number, that my eyes were wearied with viewing, and my spirits dulled with meditating upon them.  
Of all those whose carcases I there beheld, I would gladliest, if I knew which way, entreat of those of this present age of ours. But though it should please God to grant unto me the life of Mathusalaem, and I should in all that time do nothing else but writ, yet should I want space to reckon up the number of the dead inhabitants, that this plain possessed. Cruel Accident woundeth, debility overthroweth, and Atropos in her forest giveth them free camp, and there all human creatures do end their lives. For so victorious is the violent hand of Consuming Death, that whatsoever Nature buildeth and maketh, he breaketh and dissolveth; and from this lot, no mortal creature is free.  
Herewith Memory seeing me at these tragical sights oppressed with exceeding sadness, with a cheerful countenance bade me not be dismayed: For, Fear, quoth she, befitteth not a noble mind: but if you will follow my advise, 
Fear befitteth not a noble mind.  take with you a magnanimous resolution, to die constantly, and with patience, and so to order your soul, that it may not be subject to a second death, but rather be received into that everlasting joy, where it shall live eternally in glorious rest. And therewith leading me into an inner mansion, and entertaining me still with good and virtuous counsel, I told her, that though my cause of Fear were greater than any hope of Comfort, yet in fine, come what would, I was resolved to prove the unavoidable adventure, let life or death ensue, as unto the divine Almightiness should be most pleasing. Of which my so resolved courage, she did conceive such liking, that she offered herself to be my guide; which I thankfully accepted, and without delay, she took her palfrey, and bade me follow her.  
Such was the speed we made, that of a sudden, before I was well aware, we were arrived near the fatal place, where the cruel dreadful combat, to which I hasted, was to be ended and determined.  
At our very arrival, I heard a great noise and clattering of men and armour, as though it had been of some well fought Turney, or warlike justing: but the sound thereof seemed rather plaintfull and uncomfortable, then signifying any pleasant triumph.  
Approaching nearer, I might see certain great letters of Gold, 
Letters of gold engraven in affair table at the entry of the forest of Atropos.  engraved in a fair register or table of Stone, containing these following words. Hear all vain worldly devices, and the life of all human Creatures maketh an end. This is the dolorous passage, where the strength, beauty, wisdom, puissance, and valour of mankind is vanquished and overthrown. Atropos is Lady of this place, who maintaineth here in garrizons two mighty Champions, whose incomparable valour hath bereaved of life all those that ever lived in the world heretofore, and shall do the like with those that live at this present. Accident commonly beginneth the fight, against whose sundry stratagems, and strange kinds of fight, no worldly strength prevaileth: but if at any time he chance to miss, then cometh the Prince of sorrow, called debility, whose heavy comfortless blow, no Armour of proof withstandeth: So that here in fine all human flesh endeth, leaving to the world their possessions, vanities, pursuits, and fond desires, wherein while they lived they did set such pleasure, flattering themselves with a foolish conceit of longer enjoying them.  
But hearing a great rumour & noise within the Steccada, I stayed no longer here, but got me to the lists, where I found a great number of people assembled to behold a strange & dreadful combat, that was there to be tried, so that there was a great whispering and confused noise of voices.  
Atropos beholding all, 
The manner and attire of Atropos.  sit aloft in a stately scaffold, quaintly clothed with a garment embroidered round about with putrefied earth and Worms. Her gesture full of Ire and threatening, and in her hand a Death-bringing Dart, with which she first defieth them that lest think of it: Cruelty is the marshal of her field. Her K. at arms, Wilfulness: his coat armour of Vnrespect: her chancellor, Instability: and his divine, Let no man trust.  
The lists are of Sorrows, enclosed with Heaviness: her pavilion of Clamours, her banners and streamers there waving, all of Plaints and Wail, her nearest attendants, are Bitterness, Despite, and Villainy.  
On the defendants side was his pavilion, embroidered round about with Heroical bounty & High valour, and beautified with infinite streaming banerolls and flags of Honour: his King at arms was Well-beloved: the painting of his bawdricke and coat armour, was all garnished with Virtuous prowess, & crowned with True Nobility. Wilfulness in his Lady's name proclaimed Silence, commanding upon pain of great penalties, that none should with any good or evil sign, or with any other means, assist either of the combatters, And after proclamation, seeing general silence, commanded the champions to begin the fight, and to show their force. 
debility entereth the lists  debility first entered, bringing with him two mighty & sharply steeled weapons, the one of Persecution, the other of a Remediless consumption. His upper garment or coat-armour had figured in it the Carcase of a dead Man, miserably pined away, bare, and without flesh, hanging only together by the bones, yielding a sight full of ghastfulnesse and horror: On the other side came forth a most honourable Defendant, beautified with the glorious arms of Burgundy: Honour both waited upon him and was his guide. This was the most excellent Prince of great and famous memory, so highly for his virtues honoured and loved. 
Philip, surnamed the good: Duke of Burgundy.  Philip of Burgundy, of all our Western world the greatest Duke: his right hand was armed with a Lance of Stayed advice. The fair enamelled boss of his guylded Target, represented the Great praise, the many Friends, and powerful dominions, that he possessed. Nothing was about him, but witnessed Truth, Bounty, Constancy, and Courage: And finally, his Mace was of Firmness against all adversities.  
debility was never at any time fuller of fear, than now, at the constant behaviour of this gallant enemy, and therefore threw at him a far off a dart, headed with so Many troubles, that it had been able to have daunted and overthrown the greatest courage living. But the gentle Duke opposed himself with so Quiet & Unblemished a mind, that it made in him no breach at all; rather did he with his Lance, of whose temper I told you before, give his enemy so virtuous an encounter, that he made him to stagger.  
Each of them showed the uttermost of his valour, striving in this hard and cruel combat whether of them should be superior.  
debility let fly at the Duke with his Pole-axe of Persecution: the Duke betook himself to his Mace of Firmness, and so avoided the blow. So that as the fight was fierce and vehement, so was it in a manner doubtful between them. Memory seemed to hope, that the Duke should escape victorious: But the Destinies were against it, and the Eternal ordinance of the Almighty: For in the end, debility thrust the noble Duke into the Lungs with a deadly Consumption, assailing him beside with many a fierce blow of other infirmities, so that though he were himself exceedingly wearied and foiled, yet far greater was the Defendants extremity: of whom, to make a final end, gathering together all his force, he struck with so violent a Catarrh, that down fell the magnanimous Duke breathless, and with him the glory of our age.  
Atropos in so heavy a case (all the hearts of the beholders else throbbing, and their eyes weeping) made no other reckoning, then as it were a may-game, full of laughter and scorn, no whit at all respecting his great honour, estate, and alliance, nor the worlds general sorrow for the loss of so excellent a Prince.  
The Heralds at arms laid over the dead body a rich embroidered Hearse, garnished round about with works of Glory, and thence conveyed the same unto the noble Mansion of Memory: where, with sacred Obits, and sumptuous Funerals, it was most solemnly interred: as for his blessed soul, I trust in God's mercy, that it is now glorified with celestial joys, free from having hence forth any more to do either with debility, or Accident.  
Scarce were these mournful Obsequies ended, 
Accident presenteth himself armed.  when we might hear a new rumour and noise of two freshly arrived Champions. The first was Accident, who in terrible gesture presented himself armed and fierce on horseback in the field. His Horse was caparasoned with Arrogance never tempered, his Lance of Unhappiness, his Harness of Ire, his Sword, with which he hath overthrown millions of men, of Overweening boldness, and his Mace, with which he usually overturns those that are in best liking with themselves, of Fortune.  
Out comes against him, like Mars or Hercules enraged, 
Charles Duke of Burgundy surnamed the hardy.  great Charles of Burgundy, the most feared, & adventurous Prince that lived in his age, who always made Reason attend upon his Will, (which yet never was unvirtuously, though to himself some times damageable.) His Courser was fierceness, every piece of his Armour tempered in True courage, his Lance of High endeavour, his Sword of Minds greatness, and his Dagger of Incredible munificense; And surely, if we will rightly judge of this worthy Prince, there was not any virtue that he had not in perfection, neither was there any vice, with which the nobility of his mind was spotted, unless self-will, and over-greatnesse of courage, be to be called vice.  
Where this field was fought, was neither tent nor pavilion, but only shrubs & brushes. The encounter began with great clashing and noise of armour. Great was the fury of either Champion, and great the fierceness of their first onset, either of them deadly and despitefully desiring the destruction of the other.  
Accident like a tempest or whirlwind, 
The Duke three times overthrown by the D. of Lorraine and Swyssers, and lastly slain at the battle of Naneie in the year. 1476.  with such unresistible puissance so encountered the Duke three times, that he overthrew him to the ground, and yet undid him not; for still in his greatest disgrace, undismayed, he made head again, with greater and more revengeful resolution then before. Yet such was the hurt of these unfortunate encounters, that not only the Duke, but his whole house, estate, & country, was thereby greatly weakoned.  
But now was the fight grown to that heat of fury between them, 
Campobache an Italian Count, chief leader of the D. horse, and of especial credit about him, had agreed with the D. of Lorraine to betray his master, which most judas-like he performed at this battle before Nancie.  that it amazed the beholders. The Duke being full of magnanimous wrath, & resolved to die, or to be victorious, spared no means or ways he might to grieve his adversary, who struck him a mighty blow with his Pole-axe of Conspiracy, given him by Fortune, therewith to end the life of him, whom manly and equal virtue never could have vanquished: Yet still the fearless Duke maintained valiantly the place, though Fortune, and all the world else, had forsaken him, till at last, Accident with unworthy hands, doubling a downright blow upon him, bore him, for whom the earth while he lived was too little, slain and senseless to the earth: who as all his life time he had been great and incomparable, so was his valorous ending, even to his hatefullest enemies, admirable. God I hope of his infinite goodness, will there grant rest and quietness to his soul, which here his body so much abhorred.  
If war be to be praised as an honourable exercise, then great ought your sorrow to be, ò soldiers, for the loss of such a prince, whose like in that profession never lived any: yet notwithstanding all this incomparable loss, it doth not a little comfort me, in that it is to the whole world notorious, that he was not overcome by any that were worthy of such a conquest, but only through the divine power & permission, by which fortune holdeth in her hands, and handleth at her pleasure, all human works.  
For the sentence, permission, decree, and secret judgement of the heavens, far exceedeth our science, deceiveth our knowledge, and maketh vain our wisdom.  
If a man live in this world fortunately, 
The vain instability of the worlds iudgemne.  and possess what so his heart desireth, than the common opinion is, that he is an happy man, & was borne in a good hour: but if by adverse fortune he afterwards chance to become poor, and afflicted with adversities, miseries, or loss of honour, than every one crieth out, that he is unhappy, & that it is pity that ever he was borne.  
To avoid therefore these inconveniences, and uncertainties of the world, 
The surest anchor is to trust only in God.  let every mortal creature turn himself with a pure and penitent mind unto the eternal creator of all things, to whom both heaven and earth are obedient, and then shall he be assured, that there shallbe no error in his course; neither, being anchored upon so sure a rock, shall he need to depend on the vain fleeting blasts of worldly so soon deceived opinions.  
In fine, though Accident victoriously triumphed over this famous Prince, yet never in any age shall the glory and valorous endeavours of great Charles be forgotten, whose uncomparable valour and magnanimity, all nations and histories have beautified with the surname of hardy.  
But now, though with tearful eyes, yet shall my pen proceed and leave the woeful story of this worthy Duke unto some happier writer, whose muse may be glorified with so great a subject. Accident presently thirsting after a new pray, put on his armour of deepe-pirceing Despair, and with a sharp grounded javelin of Misfortune, leapt out into the high way, putting to his side a Sword of Sudden grief, which only hath shortened the life of many worldly creatures: but to make the matter more speedy, his Dagger was of Secret melancholy, which being joined to Sickness, were able to consume a marble.  
With this there began a music so well accorded, so variable, sweet, and delicious, that it ravished with delight the hearers. Towards the which, as the people joyfully flocked, to know whence, or from what cause the same did proceed, they might behold a Litter that approached, supported by two milk-white Unicorns, of which the one was Perfect bounty, and the other Sweet demeanour. The riches, ornament, and sumptuousness of this Litter, was such, that it exceeded all estimation. The Unicorns were guided by four Princes: the first, good Fame, the second, Flower of Youth, the third, Nobleness of heart, and the fourth, Disdain against villainy, and all four linked together by Reason.  
Strait followed a great troop of cavalry, and withal a company of so choice, fair, and beautiful Ladies, as though each one had been selected and chosen out of the greatest Courts of the world.  
But now it is time to say somewhat of that royal parsonage that came within this sumptuous Litter, though to touch rightly her perfections, be far beyond the compass of mine, or any mortal pen.  
It was a glorious young Princess, armed at all pieces, and resolved there in that passage, to show her power where she had received her grief. In her seeming one would have deemed her to be a very Penthesilea, that came to revenge the death of Trojan Hector. But cruel and unhappy Destiny, had conspired her overthrow.  
Her Harness was of Contentment, her head was armed with Virtuous Thought, therewith the better to defend herself in this dangerous conflict. Her Sword was Desire to do well, sharp and well pointed, wherewith she came determined to revenge the wrongs that had been offered her: Her Dart was of Debonairnesse, and her Shield of Faithful unspotted Love, never to be altered. 
Marry, only daughter and heir to Charles D. of burgundy, and wise to the Archduke Maximilian who was afterwards Emperor.  Her upper garment was wrought, and round about adorned with thousands of virtues, who finding her pure soul free from all evils, had therein made their quiet and blessed mansion.  
This excellent Lady, as Loyalty her Herald at arms in loud speeches proclaimed, was Marie, the great and puissant Archduchesse of Austria, worthy of the worlds government. Accident stood all this while trembling, to see so incomparable a beauty, joined with so virtuous a courage, wondering that those many excellent rare parts and virtues, should be all so vively united in a young Princess of three and twenty years, whereas they are rare and scarce to be found in the many settled years of longer ages. But Fury, his trusty counsellor, seeing his amazement, bade him be of good courage, for the victory should assuredly be his, if so be he would follow his counsel: which was, that he should not assay her with any other weapon or stroke, then only of a deep Hart-Sorow, which the gentle temper of her well framed mind not enduring, he was assured, would soon overthrow her.  
Accident followed his advise, and ashamed of his former faintness, with a cruel Unkindness, gave her so deep a Sorowes-wounde, and thereupon a fervent Ague, that the gentle Princess losing by degrees the perfection of her beauties, though she opposed her virtues in resistance, was finally vanquished and taken out of this unworthy world, in prime of her years and beauty; leaving behind to us, nothing but grief, heaviness, and compassion, though God wots, bootless sorrow, and weeping tears, be of small effect and moment, to equal so great an occasion.  
Thus now hath cruel Accident taken from us our rarest jewel, that precious Palladium, which while Burgundy enjoyed, it reigned in all prosperity and happiness: But now alas, the name of that noble house is finished, and Death hath taken away this excellent Lady, whose glory shall yet live here eternally, and her soul there I hope in endless bliss.  
This was she that refreshed our languishing spirits, and comforted our former distressful calamities, as Troilus did, who with virtue and courage bore upon his shoulders the burden of besieged Troy, when Hector failed. And if heaven would have granted us so much happiness, as to have left us only her alive, we should have been able to have suffered and endured whatsoever else could have happened. But what I might think, and what grief might be mine, let the compasionate Reader judge, seeing in so short a space, three Princes dead, whom I served, and had such cause to love and honour. I was brought up young, and nourished in their court. They were always my shelters against all tempests, storms, and adversities: But alas, there is none now left to shelter me from sorrow.  
But returning to my discourse, at the end of the combat, when I had seen the death of these three my so dearly honoured sovereigns, my eyes being drowned with tears, and my soul with sorrow, unwilling to overlive so great a desastre, I pulled down my beaver, and dreadless and careless what might happen, nor looking nor fearing who came against me, I rushed into the lists, defying my adversaries, to come both, or one, or how they listed, or dared. Memory seeing me thus altered, feared lest I had been troubled with some passion of Despair, 
The Author offereth combat to the champion of Atropos.  and therefore willed me to recommend myself unto God; which I did, and constantly attended the coming of my adversaries. But by and by came unto me a fellow like a Herald, of little stature, with a blazon of prolongation, his name was, Summons. Great Atropos, saith he, 
The messenger or poursuivant of Atropos called Summons.  that here governeth, hath commanded me to tell thee, that thy hour is not yet come, and therefore willeth thee to stay, till thou be called; which shall not be long first. In the mean time rest contented, for there are now many other combats to be determined of greater worth, and among the rest, especially of five famous adventurers: 
The combats of five famous adventurers.  whose names and particularities, I desiring him to recount unto me, though, said he, some of these be things to come, and the secrets of the destinies are not to be revealed, yet for this once I will satisfy thy request.  
Know then, that these five dismal conflicts I speak off here to be tried, are such, that the only thinking of them breedeth an astonishing terror both to Atropos and her Champions; who hearing of the victorious conquests that are, and shallbe, by these excellent adventurers achieved, are fore-possessed with an incredible fear and amazement. I will therefore tell thee first, what each of the adventurers is, and then how prepared and armed they will come to this the last combat that ever they shall make. And do not think that I do fable with thee, in telling thee of things to come: for I do certainly assure thee, that the event shallbe as I do tell thee: for Atropos is well acquainted with the Destinies, who have discovered the whole unto her. But because it grieveth me exceedingly to see thee so sorrowful and sad, I would yield willingly some comfort to thy perplexed mind. And this assure thyself, the heavens do never deny consolation to the comfortless and distressed. As for the three ended princes, whose untimely deaths have brought thee to such excessive and immoderate sorrow, and these other, with the particularity of whose combats I have promised to acquaint thee, they shall leave behind them such and so noble a succession, that their loss shallbe to the whole world restored. But especially the great English Monarch, 
Summons doth reveal unto the Author the Secrets of the Destinies, wonderfully among the rest foretelling the greatness of Queen Elizabeth's glory  who among the rest of his royal issue, shall leave one so excellent a daughter, & so highly of the heavens blessed, that besides the glorifying of the frozen poles, and the fiery equinoctials with the trophies of her invincible arms, such shallbe the worlds wonder, and admiration of her virtue, that the greatest kings, princes, and estates of the world, shall think it the greatest happiness that may befall them, to be shrouded under the fair spreading wings of her Imperious government, some of them falling down at her sacred feet, and flying into her realm for refuge, as to an unblemished Azyle and inviolable sanctuary.  
But now to entertain thee no longer with circumstances, 
The Lady Isabella sister to Henry the 4. of Castille, and wife to Ferdinand of Arragon, grandmother to Charles the fifth.  know that the first which in these lists is by Atropos so fearfully expected, is the great and mighty prince's Donna Isabel Queen and enheritrix of Castille: Her am I ere long time overpass to summon to the adventure of this passage, to which as every mortal creature is subject, so shall she not be disobedient, but presently come into the field armed and accompanied as followeth.  
She shallbe mounted upon a triumphal, Chariot, accompanied with innumerable virtues, contending between themselves, 
In what sort she shall come to combat with death.  which of them should have the chief possession and presidence within the royal harbour of her thoughts. They shall attend on each side of her Chariot, singing in her honour immortal praises. faith and pure Zeal shallbe her Chariots guide. Four Horses, exceeding the snow in whiteness (therein denoting her purity) shall draw the same, their names, Wisdom, Religion, Hope, and Charity, all being blessings, and especial graces of the highest: her armour shallbe of Magnanimity, her Helmet of good Counsel, assisting her in government. The Sword she shallbe girt withal, shallbe of an accustomed virtue of hers called Natural Pity, the which she shall employ & put in ure against Cruelty: Her Spear shallbe of good Desert, steeled with a head of hating Error, all her works and cogitations being thereunto incessantly bend and directed: her Shield of Honesty, and her Coat-armour of Authority, before which, vain Pleasure, and worldly Vanity, never dare appear. Upon her arrival, her King at arms, called Government, shall proclaim all the particularities of her estate, name, condition, and cause of coming. Presently will weerilesse Accident come forth, armed with a new and fryghtfull Harness of Amazement, his Shield of Despair, therewith to bereave the defendant of all hope to escape, his Dart of Crueliie, his battle Axe of Impossibility, whose blow no soundness of health, nor vigorousness of force shallbe able to withstand: his Sword shallbe of Passion, & his Dagger of Sorrow. And thus furnished, shall he begin the combat, half dismayed at the virtue, fame, and estate, of so great an enemy, only encouraged by the persuasion of Fury, that still incenseth him forward.  
The gentle Princess seeing him come, shall presently dismount off her Chariot, and with a well resolved constancy attend him, opposing against his fierceness her Spear of good Desert. But inexorable Accident, no whit at all thereof esteeming, shall in such sort vex and pursue this noble Lady, that notwithstanding all the defence of her infinite virtues, he shall in the end deprive her of life, and the world of his chief ornament. So that here shall be seen the end of the mighty and puissant Queen, the very thought whereof forepossesseth my mind with grief. But so firm and unvanquished shall her virtue be, that it shall perpetually retain her name and memory in life, in despite of Atropos that gave her death. Fame and Glory shall give her Sepulture: and though her body be by death vanquished, yet with a far more worthy conquest, shall her joyful freed soul, by the grace of God's goodness, win eternal rest in the heavens.  
At the end of this woeful conflict, 
Philip son to Maximilian the Emperor and father to Charles the fifth.  shall a noble and heroical adventurer present himself in the lists, by name great Philip, heir to Austria & Burgundy: to which by marriage with Donna johanna, daughter to Ferdinand, and the late remembered Q. Isabelle, he shall adjoin the rich and mighty kingdom of Spain, Sicily, Arragon, and Naples.  
Accident understanding the arrival of this matchless Prince, shall presently mount upon a fresh Courser, called Outrage, his Armour shallbe of cruel Chance, of a hard and unpenetrable temper, hammered and forged by Vnpitifulnesse, against which no bounty or valour is able to prevail. His Shield shallbe of Grief, his Mace of Discomfort, his Sword of Fury, and his Lance of the greatest Sorrow that ever might happen to the world: in this terrible furniture shall he come to encounter the fearless youthful Defendant.  
The virtuous Austrian Prince shall come royally accompanied unto this dolorous passage, though greatly out of season, in the very flourishing spring of his age and honour. And surely though I must needs accomplish the commandment of Atropos my Lady and Mistress, in citing and summoning unto this feared passage all human creatures, yet can I not dispossess my thoughts of an infiniteness of sorrow, in that I must be constrained to be a mean of so soon shortening the life of this excellent Prince, depriving his people and subjects of such a treasure, as they shall never be able to recover.  
He shall enter the lists armed only with his own excellent gifts, which over the world shall make him so renowned and glorious. But disdainful Fortune, envying the worlds happiness, shall take him away in the sweetest time of his life, showing us thereby a fair example of the unsecure estate, fickleness, and instabiltie, of all vain worldly prosperity.  
His horse shallbe Frankness, 
His virtues.  his corselet Sovereign bounty, his Lance True fortitude, his helmet Assabilitie, his sword Mercy, yet tempered in meet proportion of justice, his target of High cogitation, substantially by Reason forged & perfected. His herald at arms, called Beloved of all, shall with loud proclamation bid give place unto this notable prince, whose like for loveliness was never in the world, no not Titus Vespasian, though he were called the Delices' of mankind. Fierce shallbe the first encounter of these two puissant warriors. But Accident fearing the danger of Delay, considering the undaunted valour of his adversary, shall employ even at one instant the very uttermost of his force, and therewith shall so mortally wound him, with the fervent blow of a Continual burning fever, that not able to resist so great a violence, this incomparable prince, shall yield the spoil of a glorious youth, to the cruelty of victorious Death, whose days did worthily deserve to be without number, so shall the world with the shining of his rare virtues be adorned. But merciless Atropos, thereby to increase the terror of her name, shall cut a sunder his thread, when it was not a quarter woven, filling the world with such a sorrow, as it never before had tasted.  
But now Accident, toiled with the greatness of these his former conquests, shall quit for this time the place, and ordain debility in his steed to maintain the field, telling him of a mighty arriving King, with whom he must encounter, willing him by any means to look well to himself, and to the sureness of his armour, in respect that the enemy, with whom he shall have to do, shallbe second to none of the world in glory of war & peace. With these admonishments shall debility presently come forth, mounted on a horse, named Helpless, giving thereby to understand, that all hope of succour is vain: his armour shallbe of Grief, and his mace, which usually he accustometh to bear, of languishing Weakness, wherewith he hath subdued many millions of people: his Lance shallbe continual Ill-rest, his Sword of painful Disease, his Target obscurely enamelled with sundry infirmities and grievous pains, and many other sorrowful signs of increasing Sickness and decaying health: his Coat-armour shallbe all over embroidered with Crowns of Kings that he hath slain, as likewise he shall do to him that now cometh. Dreadless of force or policy he shall stand braving at the entry of the passage, 
Ferdinand K. of Spain, Arragon, Naples, and Sicily.  when strait shall appear great Ferdinand the king Catholic of Spain: with whom shall come a thousand memories of his great and glorius victories obscuring & darkening those that in ancient histories were before accounted famous. His Horse shallbe great Valour, his Vamplate Felicity, either of both being able to keep Adversity at the bay: his Lance shallbe of great Government, firm and constant in every change either of time or occasion: his helmet of Discretion, making the effects of all his actions prosperous: his sword Magnanimous conquest, winning him throughout the world both fear and honour: his shield of great Power, such as fortune with all her exorbitant excess shall not be able to diminish: his Coat-armour of Prosperous event, and his K. at arms, Invincible, who shall upon his entry within the lists, proclaim his titles, kingdoms, estate, and name, ennobled with so many triumphs & victories. But at the very first meeting, debility shall with his Lance give him such an encounter of Il-rest, that the K. shall presently find an alteration in his health and quiet; which advantage debility perceiving, shall so double upon him fierce blows of Increasing sickness and languishing feintnesse, that in fine, notwithstanding his most constant, godly, and virtuous resolution in that dismal combat, he shallbe deprived of life, and his enemy honoured with the victory of one that never in this world before was vanquished. But Fame shall wait upon his funerals, and with his golden Trumpet blow about the world his Innumerable victories and virtues.  
debility swelling in the pride of so great an achieved conquest, lifting up his sight, shall presently espy an other excellent prince, roally accompanied, directing his steps towards this passage of Terror, 
Maximilian of Austria Emperor of the Romans.  by name Maximilian of Austria, Emperor of the Occident, who shall come with a secure countenance, and princely resolved gesture to the field, mounted and armed as the other forenamed princes, with infinite gifts of his own natural virtues, honoured beside with many warlike Ensigns and Standards, taken from the powerful Venetians, fierce Bohemians, and warlike Frenchmen. But pitiless debility, armed with rageful Cruelty, shall soon with a dispiteous blow of remediless Sickness, dim the worlds light, by taking away this honourable Prince, whose zeal, justice, and magnanimity, made him inferior to none of the passed Emperors in greatness of true glory, never in any perpetuity of time to be razed out of the registers of memory.  
The funerals of this great Emperor (who while he lived, 
Great Henry king of England cometh to encounter the Champions of Atropos.  as he did surmount all the rest of the world in degree, so did he equal the best in virtue) shallbe no sooner solemnized, when of a sudden the air shallbe broken with so terrible and martial a noise of Drums, Trumpets, and mischiefs, that the whole forest of Atropos shall seem therewith to tremble and shake, and debility that standeth glorifying himself in the fortunate events of these his late conflicts, shallbe suddenly astonished with a cold and chyllish fear, forecasting I know not what ensuing dangers in his mind. But when the heroical wars music shall approach near, and the waving Streamers of banerolles appear glittering aloft richly guylded and embroidered with Lions and Flourdelices' of gold, then shall he first begin to be so fully possessed with an unacquainted amazement and fear, that presently quitting the place, he shall with haste repair unto the Pavilion of Atropos, laying before her, with a wild and affrighted gesture, the great danger of herself and her estate, if presently she did not take better order for the resistance of this puissant arriving enemy. As for me, shall he say, I am not able to bear the stroke of so unresistible a force: for how can I alone but fear him, whom so many mighty Kings united, and the most warlike nations of the world, did so dreadfully redoubt. This is he of whom the Destinies have so often told you, that with such an overgreatnesse should command the world.  
Great Maximilian Emperor of the Roman Monarchy should serve him in his wars, and to do him both honour and homage, should with the English Rose, adorn his Imperial diadem.  
james, the most puissant & valorous King of warlike scotlan, should with the overthrow of his royal assembled Army, the slaughter of his innumerable Subjects, the death of his greatest Peers, the loss of all his honourable ensigns, Artillery, and Munitions, and finally, with his own lives loss, yielding him at Floddon a most famous and memorable victory, satisfy his royal indignation, 
Paulus Giovius.  so justly conceived, at the disloyalty of so near a beloved kinsman & friend.  
The invading French, should with the fearful noise of his only approaching name, drown themselves in the Southern Seas.  
Great Francis, whom French historiographers, and not unworthily, should call their Achilles, should so fear the fortune of this invincible Prince, that he should suffer him to range with his Army over his Country unfought withal, to put sundry of his Towns to the sack, and lastly to return victoriously uncontrolled.  
Charles the fifth (than whom since Charlemagne there never lived a more worthy and heroical Emperor) though highly offended with him for his aunt's divorsment, yet should be so far from daring to revenge it, notwithstanding the greatness of his Empire and many Kingdoms, that he should at length instantly desire his friendship, yea and sue for it with mighty presents, and great pensions, to such great Lords as should in those days bear sway about him.  
Charles of Bourbon should receive his wages, by whose means the French King should be taken at Pavia, 
Martin de Bellay in his commentaries writeth, that K. Henry the eight gave the French K. towards his ransom. 500000. crowns, which the Emperor did owe him, for not marrying the Lady Marie accorning to covenants between them, and withal a Fleuredelice of gold: upon which, Henry the .7. had lent to Philip father to Charles the .5. 50000. crowns at his being in England. Moreover, whereas he had lent Charles. 400000. crowns, for which he should have had the towns of Air & S. Homer in gage, he gave unto the French K. all those writings: for it was one article of his fidelity, that he should pay all these sums unto K. Henry the. 8.  and afterwards again by the means and unspeakable liberality of this redoubted Monarch, moved with a royal compassion should be set at liberty, and restored to his regal Crown and dignity.  
Pope Clement, being prisoner to the Imperiallistes (though afterwards unthankfully requiting so great a benefit) should be by his means set at liberty, and once again enthronized.  
But what should I stand repeating these things unto you, which you yourself so well remember were long agone by the Destinies in manner of prophecy to you unfolded; you see yourself what he hath accomplished: what now remaineth for him, having by admirable Virtues, and invincible Arms, drawn the worlds love unto him, but aspiring to immortality to conquer death, and to make himself Lord of this Forest. As for myself, I know mine own power, and find the same far too weak to resist so great a puissance. Therefore I pray you, if you be not utterly careless of my safety, and your own service, let Accident be commanded to join with me, and withal, the uttermost of your other forces to be assembled to secure us, if need require.  
Atropos hereupon shall call for Accident, encharging him to assist debility, comforting them both with this assurance, that though this were the greatest and most redoubted enemy that ever they encountered, yet they should not fear: for, being mortal, the high never-failing decree of Heaven, had ordained him to death: nevertheless she shall advise them to arm themselves with all possible heedfulness, and to be circumspect in their manner of fight.  
Herewith being somewhat encouraged, they shall arm themselves at all pieces with the surest tempered armours, and the sharpest deadly weapons, that the shorehouse or armory of Atropos can yield them, and so march into the lists, though terrified in themselves, yet terrible to all the world else, save only to the dreadless Prince that shall encounter them.  
And now, even like the roaring Ocean against a tempest, so shall the cloud-breaking noise of his warlike instruments approach with an unspeakable terror, when presently, like the Sun out of a cloud, so gloriously from out the loving press of his environing subjects, shall appear the excellent heir of the two long divided houses Lancaster and York, great Henry the eight of England, with an unmoved Majesty, and sure resolved look, though he see all death's forces bend unto his ruin.  
His Courser shallbe invincible Courage, sure footed, and never once stumbling in this dangerous career, but bearing him smoothly through, without ever starting, fearing, or blemishing, at the furious encounter of his forcible enemy. His corselet shallbe of Fortitude, gorgeously glistering in the pure brightness of true Nobility, as being of excellent proof against all outward violence, so of singular virtue in defending his royal mind from all thoughts of dishonour. His Lance, well judging Foresight, surely fastened to his rest of great Experience, never therewith unskilfully failing or unknightly breaking a cross, but with a fair encounter, still striking the honourable mark, whereunto it is by his worthy mind directed. His Sword of clear unspotted justice, firmly hilted in Wisdom, and ensheathed in a fair scabbard of Mercy, out of which he shall never draw it, but when he shallbe by forcible necessity thereto constrained: His Target of Trust only in God, upon which he shall bear the blows of all earthly violence: His fiery crested Headpiece of high Cogitation, lined with prosperous Effect, and adorned with a fair beautiful penache of immortal Fame: His Coat-armour of such and so great Renown, as never more could happen to any mortal creature: His Herald at arms shallbe unspeakable Liberality, which shall set such a grace upon his other virtues, and that in so loud a voice, that all the world shall hear him. Thus honoured, thus armed, thus adorned, shall this great King enter within the compass of the fatal lists, Virtue leading him, and Glory following him. The eyes and hearts of all the world being fixed, and attentively bend, upon the sequel of this admirable combat.  
In fine, the Heralds having commanded silence, & the Trumpets sounded the cruel notes of war, Accident not daring approach the rays of so great a brightness, shall begin the fight a far off, thinking to terrify him with foreign Leagues and Invasions; But the King betaking himself to his trusty fore-remembered Lance, shall with a thundering carrere, so repress the violence thereof, that the blow in steed of harming him, shall erect new Trophies to his honour. Then shall he throw at the fearless Prince his darts of Treason and secret Conspiracies: but he vnsheathing his excellent Sword, shall turn the danger thereof aside, and make frustrate the force thereof, so that the smart and peril shall return to his enemies.  
But then twice wounded Accident enraged, and between fear and fury desperate, shall strike the triumphant King so cruel a blow with his Sword of Distemperature, that though still remaining in courage invincible, yet shall he in his health and strength, find himself greatly impaired: Nevertheless, drawing the weakness of his body up to the worthiness of his mind, he shall enforce himself still to maintain the fight, till traitor debility, merciless like a prevailing coward, shall while the King contendeth with Accident, power down upon him with all his violence so unreliveable a blow of remediless Sickness, that the never-before yielding Prince, shall now, seeing such he knoweth to be the divine pleasure (with a quiet, yet magnanimous resolution, covering himself with his Target) every the earth with the noble burden of his falling body, and the heavens with his freed soul, impoverishing only the world; whose grief for his loss shallbe such, as though, the greatest pillar thereof being gone, it could not but attend a speedy ensuing downefal and ruin.  
But herewith as Summons would have proceeded in his woeful history, I feeling my very soul overburdened with an insupportable greatness of sorrow, entreated him to spare my already enough miserable ears, and not to afflict them with hearing of further tragedies, but if ever he would do me pleasure, then to shorten the time of my prolonged combat.  
For alas, what should I, miserable wretch that I am, desire to live, or wherein should life be sweet unto me, seeing the glorious lights of the world so soon extinguished: no virtue, no wisdom, no love, no honour, no beauty, no conquest, no nobility, no goodliness, no sceptre, no force, no prayer, being able to stay the striking hand of unmerciful DEATH.  
Whereunto Summons replying, I had thought said he, to have revealed unto you two future Combats more, of two great and Princely adventurers: The one, of the most valorous and towardly young Prince of the world, 
King Edward the. 6.  eldest son and successor to this great English King: The beams of whose fair rising Sun, shall no sooner begin to glimmer in our Orison, but they shall warm the whole world with his love. 
Queen Marie.  The other of his eldest daughter, likewise succeeding him in the royal Diadem, who whereby Accident both soon deprived of their lives, and dispossessed of their thrones. But seeing thee already of apprehensive of forow, and afflicted with such extremity of passion, I will forbear to perplex thy ears with any farther grief: yet would not I have thee to repine at the divine ordinance. For though the Almighty in his secret judgement shall think good to deprive the world of these most excellent Princes: yet shall he not leave it altogether desconsolate and abandoned: For he shall bless the perished Princes with successors of such worthiness, that like true heirs, as well of the Virtues, as Crowns of their predecessors, they shall afresh brighten the worlds obscured face, and with the goodly shining of their well deserved glory, return the estate thereof into the former blissfulness. But above all the rest, so shall he ennoble the memory of the late English Monarch, with so excellent and glorious a DAUGHTER, that in her alone shallbe seen united all the severally dispersed Virtues that made so glorious the forenamed Princes, in so much that all the world with one agreeing consent, shall proclaim her to be the most admirable Princess that ever lived. And, 
The prophesy of the Destinies concerning Elizabeth the Queen of England.  which is a thing not of the lightest consideration, but perchance one of the greatest wonders that ever any age hath seen, In her only shall not Fortune contend with Virtue, but, contrary to her nature, like a submiss and willing Handmaid, attend upon her noble desires, constantly effecting them, yea, sometimes in things most rare and marvelous. Likewise, there shallbe so sweet a consent, & so fit a proportion between the great richesses of her mind, and the fair ornaments of her body; that as the one shall attain to the height and perfection of fortitude, wisdom, temperance, justice, and all other divine virtues wherewith a royal mind should be garnished, so shall the other in goodly lyneamentes, and beautiful features, so without all degree of comparison surmount the rest of her sex, that the worlds eye shall never more behold a sweeter and more lovely object, as being in deed Delitiae humani Generis, singular in herself, and excellent beyond all comparison.  
And to make up the full point of her happiness, as she shall both in rules of government, and virtue of governing, serve to all Christian Princes as an excellent Pattern and example, preserving her Subjects in a quiet estate, full of reposefull blessedness, when round about her, some through the tyrannous exactions of their Prince, and some through the unskilful government of their Prince, and some through his negligent and contemptible looseness, shall murder themselves with mutual wounds, and be torn within themselves to pieces: As she, I say, shall by her princely care, and prudent foresight, maintain her Subjects in this calm security of untroubled peace; so shall they again, with so quiet and unmurmuring a course of faithful obedience, 
Never Prince more blessed in her subjects. Never subjects more blessed in their Prince.  love and honour her, that she, if ever any Prince, shallbe blessed in her Subjects, and they, if ever any Subjects, blessed in their Prince.  
But which is strangest, coming to the royal Diadem, in the fair youthful spring of her virgin's years, she shall find the estate of her Realm divided in faction, differing in religion, and through the troubles of the late preceding government, exceedingly discontented: All which inconveniences, being by the unfortunate success of the former government (wherein the Sword was more employed than the Sceptre) stirred up, and in appearance tending to some fearful and dangerous issue, she shall with the sweet breathing gale of her well tempered Mildness, so pacify, allay, and utterly extinguish, that she shall reduce her Subjects from the deepest degree of constrained fear, to the highest pitch of faithful love, and dutiful obedience, that ever Prince was honoured withal.  
Neither shall her invincible arms in justly undertaken Wars abroad, be less glorious unto her, than this her admirable Peace and justice in civil government at home. Neither shall be most warlike nations of Europe only, as Spain, Portugal, France, scotlan, and Ireland, but even the remotest regions, and concealed parts of either Tropic, the frozen Poles, and the middle burning Zone, be constrained to bow unto the victorious English ensigns: nothing being more rife in the mouths of men, yea as well of the farthest Indians, and savage people, as of the proud neighbouring nations, than the name of great ELIZABETH, written in the blood of those that resist, and the pardoned lives of those that yield, of all victories the fairest register, and best enduring monument.  
To recount unto you the several egregious victories that she shall give, both by sea and land, to the most fierce and warlike nations that then shall possess the world, were fit for the large relation of a Chronicle, than this my short discourse: But this I assure you, they shallbe such, as I know not whether any antiquity can bring forth the like.  
In fine, her Kingdom shallbe the secure Haven of Afflicted Princes, her Purse the royal maintenance of Distressed Kings, and her powerful Arms, the yoking bridle of Ambitious Tyrants.  
As for the Princely magnificence of her Court, her well expressed judgement in the election of grave and honourable Counseylors, her well employed rewards on those that shallbe Virtuous and of merit, her bountiful liberality, and gracious entertainment of Strangers, her learning, languages, and skilfulness in royal knowledge of such arts and secrets as to her estate are fitting, so unable is my feeble speech to aspire unto the height of their worthiness, that forbearing to speak of things so far above my reach, I know no better way then to cover them under the vail of silence, leaving the large camp of her praises, to the excellent writers of that age wherein she shall flourish, her rareness being such, that she shall with the highness of her virtue, draweup (as the heat of the Sun doth vapours from the earth) the excellent wits of her time to so high a pitch, that the following ages among millions of other noble works penned in her praise, shall as much admire the writer, but far more the subject of the fairy Queen, as ever former ages did Homer and his Achilles, or Virgil and his Aeneas, such worthy, rare, and excellent matter, shall her matchless and incomparable virtue yield them to ennoble their pens, & to immortalize their fames.  
As for me, having now made you acquainted with the former Combats, of which I made you promise, though I have in their recital perchance seemed somewhat prolix, yet if you will consider the particularity of the mentioned Princes, I fear you shall rather have occasion to blame my brevity. Having now, as I say, satisfied your desire, and that truly without abusion or deceit, I will now take my leave of you, because Atropos standeth in need of my service. As for your Combat, never trouble yourself with urging it farther, for I will, doubt you not, summon you thereunto in time, and therefore I would wish you even now to make yourself ready, seeing the hour thereof cannot be but at hand. At the end of these speeches, he took his leave of me, and departed, leaving me in a strange confusion, between sorrow of that which was past, & wonder of that which was to come, my only comfort being to think of that fortunate and golden age, wherein the branches of these deceased Princes shall live, especially that excellent & matchless Empress of the Ocean.  
Herewith Memory, that had all this while attentively listened unto these passed tragical discourses, seeing me still persever in my pensiveness, used her best endeavours to comfort me, and requested me, seeing I had such prolongation and respite of time granted me, to return, and to take my lodging with her, whither she would cause the old hermit Understanding to be sent for, of whom I might take good and firm counsel against the doubtful issue of this dangerous Combat, which now of necessity was shortly to betide me. I willingly accepted her gentle offered entertainment, and turning my Horse, was contented to follow her.  
By the way, she perceiving my mind to be over-pressed with heavy and melancholy thoughts, endeavoured to remove me from those sorrowful apprehensions, by recording unto me many passed pleasing Histories and allegories, 
He returneth to the mansion of Memory.  moralising them all unto my good and comfort: So that passing on the way without tediousness, we were soon arrived at her mansion: whither Understanding the good Hermit was sent for; 
He is there visited by Understanding.  who ready, and dutiful at her commandment, was in my Chamber at my bedside so soon as the dawning of the next morning appeared.  
I exceedingly rejoiced at his coming, because I knew him to be a counsellor void of all fraud, and full of virtuous consolation, grave in his judgement, and sound in his advise: God be thanked for his goodness, that gave me happiness to have his acquaintance, and grace to bend my mind to follow the direction of his counsels. After many mutual congratulations between us, he began to instruct me with many lessons, all teaching the way how to live and die well: in which two only points consisteth all the height and excellence of wisdom. 
Wherein consisteth the height of wisdom.   
First quoth he, who so ever he be that is to combat either within List, Barrier, or Steccada, he ought well to consider as well the quality of his own forces, as of those of his enemy, and according thereunto to make his provision of furniture and defence.  
For rashly to enter unprovided unto so great an enterprise, as it could not be but to the body dangerous, so it would be to the soul doubtful: of which, whosoever maketh a careless account, may well be termed miserable and unhappy.  
And although that whosoever is honourably challenged to single combat, may make choice of his weapons, besides certain other privileges that he hath both of time and place: yet such is the necessity and straight limited condition of this your fight, 
Death often striketh without warning.  and Atropos your adversary so full of dishonourable advantages, that he will not give you so much as warning when, or where he meaneth to assail you, whether by water or by land, whether in desert or in plains, 
Nothing so uncertain as the hour of a man's death.  whether in your bed or upon your horse, but perchance even surprise you of a sudden, when you shallbe provided neither of weapon, nor defence able to avail you.  
Considering therefore the near approaching time of your combat, 
And therefore nothing so behoveful as to be always in a readiness.  and withal the entrapping stratagems and cautelous wily advantages of your adversary, I would wish you in time to make provision accordingly, and that with such wary and heedful circumspection, that no suddenness be able to overtake you; which if you will follow these my instructions, I doubt not, but you shall easily perform with your endless honour and welfare.  
First let all your Harness be tempered in true Repentance, 
What Arms are fit to encounter death withal.  so fastly forged, and beaten with the hammer, that no deadly sin be able to teint them, nor ugly vice have power to pierce them. Let your Vamplate be firmly steeled with a firm resolved purpose to persever in well-doing, seeking in all your actions, with a true religious zeal the service and glory of God. Let your Vambraces be of Virtuous Magnanimity, in not yielding to frail worldly pleasures: and your Gantelets of perfect Charity, showing the liveliness of your faith, in the operation of your works. Above all, let your Headpiece be of Temperance; which though it be in the world a virtue rarely found, and little set by, yet it is a jewel most precious, and will in this enterprise highly stand you in steed. Let your Cuisses be of patiented Suffering, your Poldrones of Diligence, and your Greues of labour to do Well. In this manner armed, and all the pieces of your Armour combined together in Faith, such and so sure willbe your foundation, bearing the blessed sign of the sacrament of Baptism in your forehead, that your speed cannot be but good and glorious. But now seeing you well provided of arms defensive, I think it not amiss to provide you likewise of such as may hurt, offend, and terrify your enemy.  
Ordinarily whosoever is challenged, may choose to fight a foot or a horseback, as he shall for his advantage find fittest. But so different is this your fight, from the nature of other Combats, that it is to be fought by yourself alone, and that on foot: neither, if it were otherwise, would I have you trust to your Horse, or to any other help: But even that you do, do it of yourself: I mean, in doing works of Charity, and bestowing Alms for your soul's health, 
Good works done by others after a man's death, nothing at all available  while yourself is living: for when you are dead, small avail will the good works done by your heirs yield you; neither, as the world goeth, will they be greatly careful of any such performance.  
Always provided, that for the securer passage to the place appointed, you take Baptism, whom at your birth you vowed never to deny, for your Padrine. 
Padrino in Spanish signifieth him that goeth with his friend into the field, or doth accompany him unto a just or tourney, with meaning to defend him from wrong. It signifieth also a Godfather.  He will yield you valour, courage, and contentment, and to your enemy terror, sadness, and amazement, such and so preheminent is the force of this excellent Sacrament. Let your Casting-dart be surely steeled with a head of fervent Devotion: your Spear Remembrance of his Death, that with his Blood redeemed you: your Dagger with a sharp and well piercing point, of a pure, vigorous, and true catholic Faith: and your Target of virtuous Example, witnessed by good Works.  
And seeing you want now nothing but a Sword, let the same be of justice, keen and well edged, doing unto others, as you would be done unto yourself. But especially, and above all, look as I said, that these your Harness and Weapons, be without delay, yea, without the loss of one moment, tempered by true and well grounded Repentance, who for such a conflict, is of all others an armourer most excellent.  
Stand not upon Inconveniences, nor be not pulled back with Worldly lets, nor terrified with Charges, but be diligent, and look well about you: it is no matter of mine, it concerneth yourself; neither is there any friend or kinsman in the world, how dear soever unto you, that will, or may, fight this Combat for you.  

AUTHOR.  Good father, quoth I, I heartily thank you, for these your so loving and zealous advertisements, which have already taken so deep an impression in my mind, that I hope, through God's goodness, I shallbe able in some part to execute and perform them.  
Yet because there must be a preparation; and mean while, between this & the time of my Combat, I pray you tell me how I should behave and exercise myself, to be the better able to withstand the dreadful approach of my Death-bringing enemy. Nay quoth he, whether there shallbe any mean while, or time of preparation given you, that only knoweth the Divine providence: For, you may chance to be summoned, even while you are now speaking. Therefore, I wish you not to be unresolute, or long in preparing, but to put yourself presently in readiness, seeing the thing, that by delay you do put in hazard, is no less than the eternal weal, or woe of your soul: which is, either to be glorified with blissful and ever-during joys, or else to be condemned to the rageful never-ceasing torments of hell fire. Woebe unto them, that making hereof but a scoff and jest, do hazard so great a treasure as their soul, upon so hard a jump, as to delay preparation in so important a matter, especially the time and suddenness thereof being so uncertain.  
Yet if it so fall out, that there be any space of preparation or amendment (which the goodness of the heavens grant you) I would have you to spend the same in virtuous exercise and practise of your fore-described weapons.  
adjoin unto them the often use of fervent Prayer, 
How a man should exercise himself afore he cometh to the combat.  not only with an outward wagging of your lips, but also with an inward weeping of your heart. Rise early in the morning, lest the night's darkness at unawares overtake you. Stop, as near as you can, your five sensual powers, from hearing, seeing, touching, tasting, or consenting, to any Wickedness, frail sensuality, or blasphemous impiety. Slumber not drowsily in Sin, but watchfully arise by true Contrition, and unfeigned Repentance. As your appetite, so let your tongue be temperately used.  
Besides, for the better enabling of your body against the endurance of fight, I would have you still be wrestling and skirmishing against such Champions as have the chiefest fame for strength and power: such are Pride, Envy, Gluttony, Covetousness, Sloth, Anger, and Sensuality: which doing, and keeping your body clean in breath, with the sober diet of a virtuous and harmless Life, doubt not, but cheerfully go on to the Combat; for by God's grace, howsoever if fareth with your bodily life, your better part shall triumph in glorious victory, and in despite of raging Lucifer, and all his adherents, purchase eternal salvation.  
If there be any ward, 
Who are the best masters of Fence, to instruct him that prepareth to fight this combat.  or point of defence, that you doubt off, repair unto some godly Father & reverend Priest of Christ his Church, and he will sufficiently advise you: for such are the Masters of Fence, whose counsel in these cases you must use. 
AUTHOR.   
Good Father, quoth I, I find great consolation in your speeches: but now you have told me what manner of Arms I must use, and what exercise I should entertain myself withal till the time of my Combat, I pray you tell me yet a little more, how I shall behave myself when I come to the painful point within the List or Barrier.  
You have not made this demand, 
The miserable estate of a man dying.  quoth he, without great cause and reason: for in deed, such shallbe in that perilous conflict the trouble of your senses, and terror of your enemy, conspiring all his wiliness and force to your overthrow, that it willbe hard for you to retain a constant behaviour, especially seeing yourself frustrated of all worldly help. No one of your tenderest hearted friends will excuse you, nor help to fight on your side, yea, perchance your parents, children, and nearest friends, shall not (at such disadvantage may you be taken) be present to be unto you witnesses of combat, or means of comfort.  
Therefore, reposing no trust or confidence in any other help or assistance, fly only unto GOD with a fast and fervent Faith, imploring his grace, through the precious death and blessed merits of his only Son our Saviour: with the contemplative meditation of whose holy cross and bitter passion, if you do fortify your heart and senses, be assured, that you shall therewith easily daunt and confound your enemy. Always desire of God to give you firm stableness in Faith, whose assistance, being joined with mine, I trust that in strength we shallbe able to uphold you.  
But withal, for your greater security and repose, I would have you take with you a resting seat of Satisfaction, which is, in making Restitution, and doing Right to whom so ever you have wronged, forgeeving, and desiring of all the world forgiveness.  
When you come to take your Oath, 
The virtuous Champion's oath.  swear that you received Baptism, by virtue whereof you are a Christian, in which Faith you determine to live and die, and which quarrel you do most willingly offer your present body to maintain against your adversary: who not satisfied with the dissolution of your body, will also with tempting, and frightful suggestion, seek the destruction of your soul.  
Presently will your adversary come forth, 
The oath of the adversary.  and swear, full of hopeful assurance, that you are the child of Adam, and subjecteth unto Death: Which ransom, for the remedy of original sin, it pleased Christ the son of God, by taking on him our humanity, himself to pay. And as the wary Champion, when he beginneth to fight, will, as near as he can, take his advantage of the Sun: so likewise be you circumspect, so to appear within the Lists, that you be no way offensive to the glistering of the divine goodness,  
The judge of this your Combat, 
judge of the combat.  shallbe the everliving Righteousness; and therefore look that you be unto him fearfully Obedient, firmly and constantly Believing in him with a true Worship and adoration of his sacred name: That shallbe unto you a strong Shield of defence against all whatsoever inconvenience; and with such a security any feebleness is strong and forcible  
If you find yourself overtaken with any sudden faintness, confusion, or amazement of your senses, fly presently to the blessed refuge of his infinite and endless Mercy, wherein assure yourself, you shall find all refreshing contentment, and quiet consolation of your unrestful senses: for who so, in that passage of Terror forgetteth not, but remembreth, with due honour and reverence, his maker and redeemer, can never be overthrown or vanquished: such is his own promise, witnessed in the holy Scriptures, which we must firmly and steadfastly believe: And withal note this, that the first step to true Life, is a godly Death.  
Be not rash in your fight, but move yourself with a well advised and leisurely Resolution. See that you employ well your blows, & strike not any of them vainly at the wind: and then though your breath chance to fail you, fear not: for if you observe these precepts of mine, I assure you the Glory of the day shallbe yours.  
But first, for a sure safe conduct and protection against all mischiefs, I would have you reverently to receive the blessed Sacrament of Christ his supper, 
The blessed Sacrament of Christ his supper.  and so shall you be assured to conquer your enemy, at whose sight be not terrified or amazed, but with a patiented magnanimity obey your good Angel, whom God hath appointed for your guard.  
I have now no more to say, but if you do believe, & effectually follow these my counsels, you shallbe eternally safe; if not, you will incur the danger of a double death both in body and soul.  

AUTHOR.  Thus did the reverend Hermit, with zealous instructions, teach me the way to everlasting life, when yet in my mind did arise a new doubt and question, which but for fear to have been accounted over-curious, I would have entreated him to explain unto me, which he perceiving, willed me not to be dismayed, but boldly and freely to utter my conceit.  
Whereupon, I earnestly entreated him to tell me, if there were not any certain signs or tokens to foreknow the time that Atropos should appoint for trial of this combat. debility, said he, will shortly send you warning hereof by his messengers, and Accident likewise by his: But as I told you before, 
The best is to be ever ready.  there is in this no certainty, for they perchance will take you so short, and so of a sudden, 
The first vant-currors or messengers that summon us to this combat.  that you shall have no leisure to put on your armour. The best therefore is to have a watchful eye, and to be ever ready.  
The first Vant-currors, that commonly will bring you tidings hereof, willbe your eyes, when you must be fain to supply their decayed sight with Spectacles. For nothing more evidently foreshoweth the night's approaching darkness, than the days decreasing clearness.  
Your ears likewise when they must be furred and stopped with cotton, may serve in steed of an Alarm bell or Trumpet, to summon you to present yourself unto the field.  
Your head also and your hands, like trusty servants, will by their feebleness and trembling, give you warning of your approaching danger.  
Neither will your legs, once so well proportioned, and with such delicate straightness supporting the stately burden of your so much beloved body, be behind hereof to give you advertisement, when they must crave the assistance of a staff to perform their office.  
The decaying of these limbs, senses, and members, is an assured token, that you cannot long hold out. Therefore, still I advise you, as near as you can, to seek with your soul those joys that will never fail nor corrupt; 
The end of the body is corruption.  as for the body, the end thereof is corruption, and the truest repose the grave. Besides these rehearsed messengers, there are thousands of griefs, sicknesses, wounds, mischances, and infirmities, that will serve for heralds to summon and challenge you to this deadly point and sorrowful passage you speak of.  
Herewith the aged father ending his discourse, took his leave of me, and departed, leaving me, though greatly comforted with his encouragements & instructions, yet sorrowful and heavy for his departure.  
But seeing there was no other remedy, gathering together in my memory all these passed discourses, I arose and determined to write, truly and sincerely, the passages and adventures of my life, even as I had felt and passed them: and thereupon I made this little treatise, which I hope will find gentle acceptance, (though the style be barren) especially of all those that bear virtuous minds, and are according to the title of this little book, true Resolved Gentlemen. To them I offer it in charitable love, hoping that the virtue of my honest meaning, shall ennoble the poorness of my gift.  
Heavy thoughts, and most justly conceived grief, moved me first to begin it: now it is ended, I beseech the almighty, that comfort, profit, and contentment, may betide those that shall read it. I have, and in my judgement not without some reason, adorned it with the title of the true Resolved Gentleman, whose adventures I beseech you well to note, that do vouchsafe the reading hereof: for even such willbe the course of your encounters, & such the end, as here, under the name of an other, you see represented: For in fine, all worldly pomp, Beauty, magnificence, and what else soever the world hath goodly or admirable, turneth to rottenness and corruption: and Death, enemy to nature, equalleth sceptres with mattocks, and king with beggars.  
Once again I beseech you accept this little Treatise in good part, if not for the worth thereof, yet for his sake  Qui taunt ha suffert. 
The Author always used this Posy.  Who so much hath suffered. 
La March.  This treatise was first written in French, by Sir Oliver de la March, in the year of our Lord. 1483.  

A brief explanation of some Histories but obscurely touched by the Author in this Treatise, which I thought fit to annex for the greater delight of those that shall read it, especially Gentlewomen, and those that are unacquainted with such historical discourses. There are some sacred Histories, which I do but briefly touch, referring the Reader (for the better understanding them) to the holy Bible, whence they are taken, imagining that they are, or at least ought to be, familiarly known to all.  
CAIN through envy that the offering of his brother Abel was more pleasing and acceptable unto God than his, 
Cain. Genesis. Chap. 4.  murdered him, and was the first that imbrued his hands with human blood.  
Samson being by Delilah entreated to tell him wherein the greatness of his strength consisted, 
Samson. judges. Cap. 16.  discovered it unto her, and was by her betrayed unto the Philistians, who took him and put out his eyes, brought him down to Azzah, bound him with fetters, and made him to grind in the prison house, and when they were merry in a banquet, they called him one day forth in derision, and set him between two Pillars: which, grasping in his arms, he pulled down, and together with the same the Palace, burying under the ruins thereof, himself, and an innumerable number of the Philistians.  
Hercules the famous Grecian, 
ovid. Seneca.  begotten by jupiter upon Alcumena wife of Amphitrion, extremely loving the beautiful virgin Deianira, daughter to Oeneus King of Calidonia, coming to her father's Court to demand her in marriage, with the terror of his presence, caused sundry youthful Princes, that pursued her love, to desist their suit: Only K. Achelaus, preferring his love to the delicious Princess before all death and danger whatsoever, 
Centaurs, were young men in the time of Ixyon K. of Thessalia, who being the first that tamed horses, did upon their backs many great exploits to the wonder of the bordering people, who judged them & their horses to have been all of one piece, & thereupon grew this fiction.  refused to yield his claim and interest to youthful Hercules, but after scornful words, upbraiding him of bastardy, came to join with him in Arms: but being wounded & overthrown, was constrained to yield, and to leave the young Lady as a reward to the victory of Hercules: who, ravished with extreamnesse of joy, returning with his beloved prey to his father's Kingdom, was retarded by the overflowing of the River Euenus: about the shores of which, as he walked to see if he could find any Ford or passage, he met with Nessus, a Centaur, who bearing from the girdle upward the shape of a Man, and thence downward of an Horse, was exceedingly inflamed with the love of Deianira, and with an humble dissembled look, offered, so Hercules could make shift to swim, or pass the river himself, that he would upon his back safely transport his Lady. Hercules thankfully accepted his offer, committing unto him his fearfully trembling Lady, and throwing off his quiver and bow to the farther side of the river, betook himself unto the stream; which having passed, and taken up again his bow and arrows, he heard his Lady in lamentable accent cry for help, with whom the traitorous Centaur ran away with all possible speed: but Hercules taking heedfully his level, pursued him in such sort with an Arrow, that he struck him in the chine of the back a mortal wound, which Nessus feeling, & in the instant of death meditating revenge, gave unto Deianeira the shirt which he ware, bestained and infected with his own blood, which issued out of his body mingled with poison, because the arrow with which he was wounded, had been by Hercules dipped in the contagious blood of the serpent Hydra, which shirt, he told her, that if she should at any time send unto her husband, when he should be in love with any other Lady, would reclaim his love from the other to her alone. The Lady received it, and with secrecy many years did keep it as a jewel of rare and singular price. It happened after, that Hercules amid his great victories, with fame of which he filled the world, chanced to behold the admirable jole, the fairest and most goodly virgin that the world in that age afforded: Her he honoured and loved, and at length obtained. The grief of which, so deeply wounded the gentle heart of Deianeira, that never poor Lady lived more abandoned over to sorrow. One day it chanced, that her husband, being to do sacrifice to jupiter upon the mountain Ceneus, sent unto her his faithful and trusty servant Licas for certain rich and sacred garments, that of purpose he kept to were at such times as he did sacrifice unto the gods. The innocent Lady sent him those superstitious ornaments which he required, and withal, bethinking herself of the dying Centaurs gift, sent him by Licas the envenomed shirt, beseeching him for her sake to wear it: which he had no sooner put on, but the venom so ragingly pierced even to his very entrails, that thinking to tear it of, he pulled therewith away great gobbets of his own flesh: and so furiously laying hands upon guiltless Licas, and tearing him to pieces, bequeathing to his dear friend Philoctetes his bow and fatal arrows, he threw himself into a fire, which he had made upon the mountain Oeta, and there sacrificed himself, which Deianeira hearing, after many detestations, and maledictions of herself, concluded with a violent and desperate death, her miserable and hated life.  
julius Caesar, having victoriously brought under the yoke of the Roman empire Germany, 
Plutarcb. Appian. Lucan.  France, England, Scotland, and Spain, and filled the whole circuit of the world with the greatness of his renown, demanded by letters the Consulship, suborning and bribing with money in that behalf sundry great personages in Rome: but so formidable grew the report of his ambitious greatness to the Roman senate, that they sent him word, that if he would leave his forces behind, and come unarmed and peaceable to the city, they would grant that or any other his lawful request: but particularly they commanded him not to pass the river of Rubicon with his army, threatening him, if he should otherwise do, to hold him as an enemy to his country: but he scornfully disdaining this commandment of theirs, and exceedingly envying the greatness of Pompey's glory, who bore the greatest sway and government at Rome, passed the River with his army, and came still conquering up into Italy: the terror of whose approach wrought such astonishment in Rome, that Pompey, with the greatest part of the Senators and nobility fled, whom Caesar, after having taken possession of Rome, pursued, and finally overthrew at the battle of Pharsalia, and thence passed conquering into Fgipt, where he subdued young Potolome the K. that rose in arms against him: he placed fair Cleopatra in the royal seat; with whom he lived a while in amorous delights, and had by her a son called Casario, who was afterwards murdered by Octavian: thence, having taken order with matters of the Orient, he returned in triumph to Rome, where he used incredible liberalities to the people, pardoning his greatest enemies, and those that had been sharpest in war against him, yea, and some of them he honoured with great dignities: as among others, Cassius and Brutus, who were both made Praetors. But so unsure is the seat of honour, especially being wrongfully usurped, that no following virtue can promise security to him that therein sitteth: for, Caesar in the height of his glory, when he knew no enemy to fear, was of a sudden overtaken by a secret conspiracy of his friends, among which were also Brutus and Cassius; the first of which he loved so well, that he had in his testament ordained him to be one of his heirs; in fine, he was by them inhumanly murdered in the senate house, directly under a pillar whereupon stood the statue of Pompey: he had received many advertisements of this conspiracy, but would not believe any, nor yet regard the pitiful tears of his wife Calphurnia; who the night before the murder, dreamt that he was slain and murdered in her arms: and therefore with all humbleness on her knees besought him to stay at home that day: which if he had done, the conspiracy had been discovered, and he delivered of danger. To those that had warned him hereof, he made answer, that he had rather once adventure all, then still to stand in fear, using this Latin sentence, Satius est subire semel, quam semper cavere.  
When his body was, according to the Roman rites, to be burned, M. Antonius made his funeral oration, which he mingled with so many passionate and pitiful speeches, and at the conclusion thereof, with weeping eyes showing his bloody shirt unto the people, did so stir their minds to so high a degree of commiseration, that filling the air with lamentable outcries, they took the flaming brands, and ran about the town, setting fire on the conspirators houses: who fearing the fury of the enraged multitude, betook themselves to flight, but few of them, or none, escaped punishment by one violent death or other.  
Much more might be said of this worthy Prince, but his story is so common, that I fear me this which is already done, will rather breed tediousness then delight.  
Antipater being by Alexander the great left in Macedon with the Queen Olympias in manner as viceroy and governor of the kingdom, 
Alexander. Quintus Curtius. Plutarch. Appianus de rebus gestis Alexandri.  behaved himself with such insolence & severity, that sundry complaints were brought to Alexander of him: of which Antipater hearing, sent his son Cassander into Asia to make his excuses, who upon his first arrival, seeing certain Persians prostrating themselves at the feet of Alexander, & adoring him as a god, fell into an extremity of laughter, being himself nourished in the strict discipline of Greece, and utterly unacquainted with the Persian ceremony in honouring their kings: at which Alexander (who now accounted his country manner uncivil and barbarous, and delighted exceedingly in the honours done him by the Persians) was kindled with so great a fury, that taking Cassander in his arms, he did beat his head against the walls, rebuking him with many bitter & taunting checks, & did not admit the excuses which he alleged in his father's behalf; and withal grew into a great diffidence and dislike both of Antipater and his two sons Yolas and this Cassander: which Antipater hearing, and therefore mortally fearing the return of Alexander, prepared a poison of such deadly violence, that it could not in any thing else be contained then in the hoof of an Ass. At length Alexander after his innumerable victories in Asia and India, having utterly overthrown the Persian Empire, upon his return, alured with the delicacies of Babylon, betook himself there to quaffing and banqueting, and to all manner of voluptuousness, giving thereby opportunity to Yolas, to present him with the deadly potion which his father had prepared: which he had no sooner received, but that he felt himself seized over his whole body with an intolerable torment: yet such was the constant greatness & virtuous courage of his mind, that he never so much as once complained or groaned, but with an incredible courage, suppressing the rage of his inward horrible pangs, died, as he had always lived, with a magnanimity, amazing the beholders in the very pride of his youth.  
Yolas was afterwards taken by Olympias the mother of Alexander, and put to death by exquisite torments.  
Young Paris, son to Priamus K. of Troy, 
Homer. Dares. ovid. Hector.  being by his father sent as Ambassador to the Grecian Princes, about the restitution of his Ant Hesione, was by the way entertained at the Court of Menelaus K. of. Sparta, where, fixing his eyes upon the marvelous beauty of Helena the new married Queen, grew so far surprised with her love, that forgetting the laws of hospitality, alluring her aboard his Ship, he hoist up sails, and carried her thence to Troy: Which indignity the Greekish Princes not enduring, joining their forces together, and making Agamemnon K. of Micene, brother to Menelaus, their general, sailed towards Troy, and among the rest young Achilles, Prince of the Myrmidons and Epirots, who by the way surprised the Towns of Tenedos, Lesbos, Chryse, and Lyrnessus, taking therein, among other Captives, two young Maidens of excellent and singular beauty; the one called Briseis, and the other Chriseida, daughter to Chriseis the Priest of Apollo: Her he delivered to Agamemnon, reserving Briseis to himself. But presently there ensued a great and miserable mortality in the Army, which, as Calcas the Prophet assured them, should never cease, till the daughter of Apollo's Priest should be restored. To which delivery of so fair and so beloved a prey, Agamemnon would not by any means consent, unless Achilles in her steed would yield Briseis up unto him. But so unpatiently did Achilles brook that unprincely and discourteous demand, that with his sword he would presently have slain Agamemnon, had not he been by the other Greekish Peers restrained: who, what with sweet persuasions, and other practices, at length so much with him prevailed, that, though extremely against his will, they made him deliver his fair and dearly beloved Briseis to the pleasure of the Greekish Emperor. But when she was once gone, then began her absence to strike and wound his heart with so excessive a sorrow, and deadly a discontentment, that full of ireful melancholy, he retired himself into his Tent, refusing to come abroad to wear Arms as he was accustomed, though every day he saw fierce Hector come murdering and chase the Grecians, even to their Tents. Many means were made by the Greekish Lords, to remove him from this settled and obstinate determination. Agamemnon offered to return Briseis untouched, with the interest of many other rich presents, but nothing prevailed: till one day, as Hector came victoriously beating down the Greekish Quadrons, his dear friend Patroclus thinking with the dissembled presence of Achilles, to terrify the Trojan troops, armed himself in the rich and gorgeous Armour of Achilles: but so cruel were his destinies, that at his first entry into the battle, he was by Hector encountered and slain. Which cruel tidings had no sooner touched the ears of sorrowful Achilles, but awaked with revenge, forgetting all other passions, he called for his Armour, and like an enraged Lion, rushed into the thickest of the Troyans' press: in which very instant, the valiant Hector, distained in blood, and bathing in sweat, was with his immoderate toil well-nigh sweltered in his Armour, so that he withdrew himself out of the battle, and by the rivers side disarmed himself, to refresh his spirits, and to take a little air: which Achilles perceiving, followed him, and at unawares, cruelly and dishonourably ran him thorough with his Lance; and not yet therewith satisfied, caused his body with thongs to be tied to a Horse tail, and so in derision to be thrice trained about the walls of Troy.  
Shortly after it fell out, that either side being weary with the daily turmoils of Wars, agreed upon certain days of truce, in which mean time, 
Achilles.  it might be lawful for the Troyans' to come into the Greekish Tents, and the Greeks' likewise to enter into Troy. Among the rest, Achilles entering the Town, chanced one day to espy young Polyxena, daughter to K. Priam: the sight of whose admirable beauty, did so astonish him, that laying all hostility apart, from thence forward meditated on nothing but love: which Priamus and Hecuba the Parents of the Virgin perceiving, entertained him with hope, to the end that they might with the more security entrap him, to which his often repair thither, drawn with the violence of love, yielded easy occasion: So that one day among the rest, Paris still watching his steps, slew him with an Arrow in the Temple of Apollo. In revenge of which treacherous and unnoble act, afterwards when Troy was taken and razed, his son young Pyrrhus slew Priamus with his own hands, and sacrificed Polyxena upon his father's Tomb.  
Great Pompey, 
Pompey the great. Plutarch. Appian. Lucan.  after the unfortunate battle of Pharsalia, wherein he was overthrown by Caesar, seeing all abandoned and lost, fled out of his Camp comfortless, and slenderly accompanied, and disguised with garments convenable to his fortune, went first to the Isle of Lesbos, to see his fair and dear Cornelia: who, seeing her L. and Husband, that was wont to be waited on when he went by Sea with. 500 Sail, arriving in a poor Bark, and that not his own, altogether sorrowful and unhonoured, could not bridle the extremity of her passion, but falling down at his feet, with most pitiful and passionate lamentations, imputing this great adversity of her noble Husband, to his unhappy marriage with her, did so intenerate the manly heart of Pompey, that requesting her not to increase his miseries with her sorrow; he could not refrain his eyes from bursting out into a river of unused tears. But seeing the speedy pursuit of his prevailing enemy gave him no leisure long to determine, he presently departed thence, with his constant and most virtuous Cornelia, and bended his course towards Egypt, no whit doubting but that young Ptolemy the K. would receive him, with all courteous entertainment and gentleness, in regard of the infinite favours which he had done unto his father. Coming near the shore, he advertised the King of his approach, who was then in Pelusium with his Army, making wars against his sister Cleopatra. The king was young, and wholly governed by one Pothinus, and Theodotus a Rhetorician, who told him, that the receipt of Pompey could not but be dangerous, and that there was not any way more expedient to win the good grace of Caesar, then by bereaving Pompey of life. To which villainous and dishonourable counsel, the youthful abused King yielded his consent, and Achillas and one Septimius that had sometime served under Pompey in the wars, were sent to put in execution this dishonourable and bloody decree.  
They came unto the galley wherein Pompey lay at ancher, and pretending the coast to be full of flats and sands, and not to have water enough for his galley, they prayed him to come into their little boat; to which Pompey agreed, though much in his mind amazed at this slender and honorles' entertainment. Descending out of the galley, he took leave of his loving Cornelia, with speech and gesture as it were presaging his ensuing disaster, who with eyes full of tears, and hands up to heaven, pursued him with her looks, till at length they were encountered with so dismal and horrible an object, that if she had not been by the Mariners restrained, she had thrown herself into the sea: for when the boat even now touched the brink of the shore, as Pompey reached out his hand to his servant Philippus to help him to rise, Septimius thrust him through the back with a sword, and then Achillas struck of his head (which now white hears had made venerable) throwing his body into the sea. Soon after, Caesar arriving in Egypt, was presented with this pitiful spectacle of Pompey's head: But merciful & magnanimous Caesar, not enduring to behold a sight of so great cruelty and horror, turned with a woeful gesture his face, watering his eyes with an infinite abundance of tears, showing that he did abhor both the unnoblenesse of the deed, and the barbarousness of the doers: Achillas and Pothinus he caused presently to be slain, Theodotus fled, but fell afterwards into the hands of M. Brutus, who caused him to be put to a most cruel death, and Ptolemy himself shortly after was overthrown in a battle, and slain by the river of Nilus.  
Hannibal of Carthage, 
Hannibal. Plutarch. Appian. Titus Livius.  the son of Amilcar, noble in birth, and great in puissance, in his infancy was by his father made swear upon an altar, whereon he was doing sacrifice, that while he lived he should be a mortal enemy to the Romans, which he failed not to perform; for after his father's death, being in Spain created Captain general of the Carthaginian army, in the xxvi. year of his age, he presently drew down his army into Italy, passing the Alps with exceeding difficulty, where he maintained wars. xvi. years with the Romans, even in the bowels of Italy, taking from them all the plain country, and chase them some times even to the gates of Rome. Besides many conflicts of less moment, he overthrew them in four famous battles, at Ticine, Trebia, Thrasimene, and Cannas, sending to Carthage, besides many other rich despoiles, three whole bushels of rings taken from the fingers of slain Senators and Roman knights (For it was not lawful for any else to wear them of gold.) But being in the end called back by the Senate of Carthage, to the defence of his own country: he that was in Italy invincible, was in Africa, fight even in the sight of his city, vanquished and overthrown by Scipio.  
Which brought him into such disgrace with his unthankful citizens (who were now constrained to bow unto the Romans yoke) that fearing farther inconvenience, he was constrained to fly unto Antiochus king of Syria: who newly entering into war with the Romans, exceedingly rejoiced at the happy arrival of this famous and renowned Captain, wholly for a while using his advise and counsel in all matters of greatest weight: till at length, abused with Roman practices, and incensedby privy whisperings of his Sirian nobility, (who grew exceedingly envious at the familiar greatness of Annibal with their king) he first began to distrust him, and then publicly to discountenance him: so that poor Annibal, having all his life time lived in the fullness of glory, was now in the extremity of his age constrained to taste of misery, and became a wanderer. Thence he fled into Bithynia to Prusias the king, who received him with gladness, promising him with oath, safe abode and security within his Realm: and by his advise and conduct, gained a famous victory by sea against Eumenes king of Persama. But shortly after Q. Flaminius was sent by the Romans to make an atonement between him and Eumenes; or at least, that cause was pretended: who seeing Annibal in his Court, requested him in the senates name to deliver him into his hands, for the hated him deadly, aswell publicly for the cause of his country, as privately for the death of his father, who was by him slain at the battle of Cannae.  
To which the K. either corrupted with gifts, or else not daring displease the Roman ambassador, dishonourably condescended, causing presently the doors of Hannibal's lodging to be environed with his guards. Which Annibal perceiving, and disdaining to honour any other than himself with the glory of Hannibal's death, after having with exceeding passion bitterly inveighed against the Roman cruelty, and with horrible execrations cursed the head of Prusias and his kingdom, he took with a fearless resolution a draft of deadly poison, which for such an extremity he had always kept in store within the hollowness of a Ring; the violence of which was such, that it straight bereaved him of life: His body was entombed hard by Libissa, in a Sepulchre of stone, with these words only engraved, Hear lieth HANNIBAL.  
Clytaemnestra Queen of Micene, 
Clytaemnestra & Agamemnon. Quid.  and wife to Agamemnon, who was Captain general, and Emperor, of the Grecian forces in the wars of Asia, hearing that her Husband lived before the walls of Troy, wholly abandoned to dalliance and love of the beautiful Briseis: whether to revenge his disloyalty, or else thereunto moved by the frailty of her own incontinent desires, she alured to her love a young Grecian Lord called Egisthus, making him partaker of her husbands bed, by abandoning unto his lustful pleasure the use of her fair and delicate body; neither cared she to cover it with any great respect: so much did the long absence of her Husband embolden her. But when Troy was taken and destroyed, Priam slain, and Agamemnon returning homeward with triumph and victory, than began she to fear least this dissoluteness of hers should not long escape unpunished, and therefore having made him a rich and costly Garment (but out of which there was no issue, neither for his head nor arms) at his return she prayed him to prove it: with which, while he was struggling, Agisthus lying in ambush behind the hangings, stepped forth and slew him with a javelin or boarspear: In revenge of which cruel part, Clytaemnestra was afterwards slain by her own son Orestes.  
Laius' King of Thebes, 
Eteocles and Polynices, Princes of Thebes. Sophocles. Statius.  being told by the Oracle that he should be slain by his own Son; so soon as his Queen jocasta was delivered of a Boy, he commanded a servant of his to take the same, and to murder it in the Woods: who, either through pity moved, or else through the child's destiny forced, hanging the same by the feet to the boughs of a Tree, did leave it in the Forest behind him. It happened that a Shepherd passing that way, hearing the child cry, took it down, and carrying it home, gave it to his wife to be nourished: who hearing that the Queen of Corinth, wife to Polybus, greatly lamented her barrenness and want of Children, presented her with this little Babe: which, receiving with marvelous joy, she nourished as her own: and that the rather, because the Boy, besides the beautiful and fair proportion of his limbs, in his looks and gesture discovered a great Nobility. But when young Oedipus (for so they named him) grew into years, and was certainly assured that Polybus was not his father, he departed from Corinth, with intention to seek out his Father and Kindred. Coming to Phocides, and understanding that the King of Thebes was there in arms about the appeasing of cruel Wars, joining himself to the contrary part, it was his hap to kill Laius the King his father: whence, led by the unevitable force of his miserable Destiny, he came to Thebes, and married jocasta the Queen his mother, 
The two daughters were Antigone and Ismene.  by whom he had two Sons & two Daughters. But at length, when the horror of his own misfortunes, and the mystery of this monstrous marriage was disclosed unto him, he grew into such a detestation of himself, that he tore his own eyes out of his head, condemning himself as unworthy to behold the light. But to the end he should not be but every way miserable in extremity, his two sons Eteocles and Polynices adjudged him to a perpetual Prison in a dark and obscure dungeon: which unkindly cruelty of theirs, added to the terror of his tormented conscience such grievous and unspeakable rage, that he did nothing day nor night but power down curses and execrations upon them, wishing nothing to be between them but misery, mischief, and discord. But they, to avoid this their Father's heavy malediction, to the end there should be no occasion of debate or strife between them, fell to this agreement, The one of them to absent himself, leaving the royal Sceptre and government of Thebes solely to the other for the space of one full year, which being expired, he then to deliver the Regal chair and ornaments up to his Brother, and to departed the City till his next year of government should return: And this order to be between them inviolable, while they should live jointly together. The lot of the first years government befell Eteocles, who, sweetened with the dilicious pleasures of a Crown, when the year expired, utterly excluded his brother both from his Crown and Country: Of which infidelity, Polynices crying to the Gods for vengeance, fled in desolate and distressful estate to the Court of Adrastus' King Argos, who so much regarded his valour and nobleness of behaviour, that he gave him one of his Daughters in marriage: and levying a royal Army, marched with the same in demand of his right to the walls of Thebes. In fine, this quarrel concerning none but the two princely brothers, they in their own persons agreed to decide it: which coming to perform, so cruel were unto them their destinies, that each of them died upon the others Spear. Whose bodies, when they were taken up, and with magnificent and royal pomp brought to the fire wherein they were to be burned, the fire divided itself, each Carcase casting out his flame apart.  
Holofernes, being entered into Israel with a mighty puissance, 
Holofernes. judith. Chap. 12 13.  and encamped before Bethulia, had brought the same to such famine and extremity, that the Israelites, despairing of all hope, determined to yeede the Town unto him. But judith the Widow of Manasses, decking herself in rich garments, secretly issued forth of the Town into Holofernes Tent, who alured with her beauty (for she was exceeding fair) gave himself to mirth and much drinking, so that through drunkenness falling into a deadly sleep, judith being left with him in the Tent alone, strengthened therein by the hand of God, cut of his head with his own Fawchion, returning the same to Bethulia, which thereby she delivered from servitude.  
Sisera was Captain general to jabin, 
Sisera. judges. Cap. 4.  the great king of Canaan, and twenty years together had vexed the children of Israel very sore, for he had with him 900. Charets' of Iron; at length, being overthrown by Barak the son of Abinoam, he fled into the house of Heber the Kenite; whose wife jael, taking a Nail of the Tent, and a Hammer in her hand, did smite the same into his temples and slew him.  
After the death of Saul, 
Abner. 2. Sam. cap. 3.  David was anointed King in Hebron: but Abner, that was Captain of Saules host, took Isbosheth the son of Saul, and made him king over Israel. Soon after Abner was overthrown by joab, & the servants of David, who being in his flight pursued by Asahell the brother of joab, turned back and slew him: For which occasion, when Abner came afterwards to reconcile himself with David, joab took him aside to the gate, to speak with him peaceably, and smote him unto the heart with his dagger, so that he died.  
Goliath was a Giant in the Philistian army, 
Goliath. 1. Samuel. Cap. 17.  of marvelous hugeness, and his weapons with which he was armed of unspeakable terror: in so much that there was no one in the army of the Israelits that dared answer the proud defiances and challenges that he daily made: till at length young David, coming from the keeping of his Sheep, strengthened thereunto by the mighty hand of God, encountered him with his Sling only, into which putting a Stone which he pulled out of his bag, he smote the Giant therewith full in the forehead, and overthrowing him with the blow, stepped to him, and with the Giants own sword cut of his head.  
Haman the Agagite, standing highly in the favour of great King Ahashuerus, 
Haman. Ester. Cap. 3.  because Mardocheus the jew did not reverence unto him when he passed by the King's gate, obtained of the King, that all the jews through the King's Provinces might be put to death. Which Ester the Queen understanding, made a banquet to the King, inviting Haman thereunto: in which, she pleased so the King with her behaviour and speeches, that the King sent letters throughout all his Provinces, to revoke the sentence which he had passed against the jews, and caused Haman to be hanged upon a pair of gallows which he had made for Mardocheus the jewe.  

A short discourse of the Princes of Burgundy, and some other, in honour of whom this Treatise was first written by the Author, who bewaileth their Deaths, but speaketh little of their lives.  
JOHN, first of that name K. of France, 
Chronic. de Nicol. Gallis.  who was taken prisoner at the battle of Poitiers by the Prince of Wales, in the year. 1356. had by his wife Bona, daughter to the K. of Boheme, 
Michael Eisinger.  four sons and three daughters: Charles, which was King after him, and fifth of that name, Lewes Duke of Anjou, john Duke of Berrie, and Philippe, who being carried prisoner with him into England, upon his delivery & return thence, he created Duke of Burgundy.  
This Philippe married Margaret daughter and heir to Malanus Earl of Flaunders and Arthois, by whom he had three sons, john that succeeded him, Anthony afterwards Duke of Brabant, and Philippe Earl of Nevers and Estamies; which two younger were both slain at the battle of Agincourt, by the Englishmen. Duke Philippe died in the year 1404.  
john succeeded his father, and married Margaret daughter to Albert Duke of Bauiere, and Earl of Holland and Zealand, by whom he had a son called Philippe, which was he whom this Author served. This john Duke of Burgundy, caused Lewes Duke of Orleans to be murdered in Paris, who was brother to Charles the sixth then K. of France. In revenge of which he was afterward slain disloylly by the Dolphin of France, at a solemn meeting appointed between them, 
This was that Duke Philip whom the author served, and of whom he speaketh in this Treatise. Chron. de Nicol. Gallis. Philipp de Comines. Michael Eisinger.  after oaths and assurances taken of both sides, at Montereau in the year. 1419.  
Philippe (surnamed the good) Duke of Burgundy, had three wives, the first was Michelet, daughter to Charles the sixth king of France, the second Bona, daughter to Philippe of Arthois, the third Isabelle daughter to john first king of Portugal, whom he married at Bruges in the year 1429. and had by her Charles, surnamed the Hardy. The very self same year of his marriage, he instituted the noble order of knighthood of the golden Fleece, which the king of Spain his successor maintaineth yet in great reputation & honour. At this frst coming to the Dukedom, which was about the latter end of the reign of K. Henry the fifth, he was a great favourer and maintainer of the English party in France, and did many notable services to the Crown of England. When the Duke of Bedford, Uncle to king Henry the sixth, was sent over to be Regent of France, he met him in great love at Amiens, and having with him his two sisters, he gave the one of them in marriage to the Duke of Bedford. But afterwards, at the siege of Orleans, they of the city desired him to be a mean for them, unto the Duke of Bedford, that the siege might be raised, in regard of the long imprisonment of their Lord the Duke of Orleans, to whom the counsel of England had promised in the mean time, to leave all and every part of his lands and towns undisquieted: whether it were so or no, once Duke Philip dealt earnestly with the D. of Bedforde his brother in law in that behalf: but being therein absolutely refused, he commanded by a Herald, all the Gentlemen of his Country, that were with the English men at that siege, to departed thence, & from that time forward declined by little and little in affection, and at length declared himself absolutely French. He was a virtuous Prince, and governed his Subjects in great peace and quietness; and finally, in the extremity of his age died in the year. 1466. and was with great magnificence buried at Bruges in Flaunders.  
Charles, surnamed the Hardy, son to Philip the good, 
Charles the hardy. Philip de Comines. Michael Eisinger. Nicol. Gallis.  was borne at Dyion in the year 1433. he had likewise three wives, Katherine, daughter to Charles the seventh king of France: Isabella, daughter to Charles Duke of Bourbon, by whom he had the Lady Marie that inherited his dominions: and lastly Margaret, sister to Edward the fourth, king of England. He was a Prince that hated rest, and was altogether inclined to unquietness and wars. His father yet living, he overthrew in a bloody & cruel fought field Lewes the. 11. king of France, at the battle of Montelhery in the year. 1465. with whom making afterwards peace, he warred upon those of Lyege that had chased out of the town their Prince and Bishop being his kinsman, spoiling their country, and taking their towns, and bringing them to such extremity, that they were constrained to receive their Bishop again; & withal to appease the Duke with great sums of Money. Coming thence, there fell out new occasion of wars between him and the French king; for pacification of which differentes; it was agreed, that the king▪, and he should meet at Peronne, there to expostulat their griefs in friendly sort one with another. And that he should give unto the king a letter of assurance under his hand and seal: which he did. But the conclusion hereof was, that the Duke, being advertised how the King had by his Ambassadors secretly practised with those of Lyege to rebel, took him prisoner, and led him with him to the City of Lyege: which being by straight confederation allied to the King, he caused, after all manner of rigorous cruelty executed upon the inhabitants, to be saccaged and burnt, and then upon new agreements, to his own advantage, he dismissed the King.  
In the year. 1474. the old Duke of Guilders, being villainously and unnaturally taken by his Son Adolph, and imprisoned in a dungeon, moved sundry Christian Princes to compassion: among the rest, D. Charles, who earnestly laboured to make an attonment between them: but his son arrogantly refusing to hear of pacification, was by the D. of Burgundy retained in prison: whose father shortly after dying, gave his Dukedom by Testament to Duke Charles, who took thereof under this title forcible possession, and those which are descended of him do yet enjoy it.  
Sweetened with this Duchy, and aspiring to greater matters in Germany, he went & besieged the city of Nuz, which was succoured by the Germans and Swissers under the conduct of Fredrick the Emperor, so that he was constrained to raise his siege: In despite of which assistance given by the Swissers, he entered their Country with his Army, but was by them overthrown and vanquished at a place called Granson.  
This day was the first of the Duke's misfortunes, with which even until his dying day he was perpetually pursued. Encouraged with which victory, on every side new forces came out of Germany to the Army of the Swissers, & the D. of Lorraine himself in person. Yet all this dismayed not the D. of Burgundy, who having refreshed his Army, set upon them the second time at a place called Morat, but was as before vanquished again, and was constrained to fly, with the loss of. 8000. of his men slain in the Field. Presently the Duke of Lorraine marched in all expedition to Nansie, that held for the Duke of Burgundy: which rendered unto him upon composition. Within two days after the D. Charles arrived, with an undismayed courage and full resolution to attempt Fortune again. Among the rest that had credit about him, was one Campobache, 
The horrible treason of Campobache.  an Italian Count, at home in his country poor, and of no revenue, but by the D. advanced to great commandment in his Army, and made Captain of. 400. men at arms: who seeing the cruel misfortunes befallen to his Master, began presently to enter into practice with the D. of Lorraine, about the merchandise of his masters life; the price of which he made. 20000. Crowns, and an Earldom: this he promised, and the same being accepted, he did as villainously perform it. For this battle of Nansie was no sooner began, but he with his. 400. Italian Horsemen fled to the other side: the amazement of which, did so terrify the Duke of Burgundy's Army, being twice already beaten and discouraged, that they presently fled, and the Duke himself was found in the field slain, & mangled with many wounds: for the villain Campobache had hired 14. or. 15. of his cutthroat traitors to watch the Duke at an inch, 
Marry, daughter and heir to Charles duke of Burgundy. Philip de Comines. 1578. Eisinger.  to the end that he would be sure he should not escape.  
Marry his only daughter and heir, succeeding her father in the Dukedoms of Burgundy and Brabant, and the Earldoms of Flaunders, Henault, Artois, Holland, Zealand, Frizland, etc. was by the consent of her Subjects, especially those of Gaunt, in whose hands since her father's death she had remained, married to young Maximilian Archduke of Austria, and son to Fredrick the Emperor, of that name the third; to whom having borne three children, Philippe, Margaret, & Francis, 
1482.  who in his infancy deceased, she died in the fairest springing blossom of her youth, being not above xxiij years of age, & lies buried at Bruges. Some do attribute her death to the fall of an Horse; true it is she fell, but the Author, who was of great authority about her, doth rather attribute it to some grievous impression of sorrow. Philippe de Comines likewise seemeth to doubt whether she died of that fall, or no.  
Don john, 
Isabella and Ferdenand. Chronic. de Espania. Fray Gonçalo de Yllescas. Philip de Comines.  second of that name, king of Castille, had in first marriage Mary daughter to Ferdinand K. of Arragon, by her he had a son called Henry, that succeeded him, and a daughter, that died young. His wife dying, he took in second marriage Isabella, daughter to Don john, infant of Portugal, by whom he had a son called Alonso, that died young, and a daughter called Isabella: and then dying in the year. 1454. was by his son Henry the. 4. succeeded in the royalty, who married jane daughter to Edward King of Portugal, who bore unto him a daughter likewise called jane: who, though she proved a Princess of much wisdom, great beauty, and many other excellent parts, yet through a rumour of the kings impotency in matter of generation, Isabel sister to the king was by her faction proclaimed Heir apparent to the Crown, & the young Princess declared to be a bastard, begotten upon the Queen by Don Beltran D. of Abuquerque, and by and by a marriage motioned between young Ferdinand Prince of Arragon and the Lady Isabella: which was effected privately in Duenas. These matters were grievous unto the king, but remedy it he could not. In the end he died, and Ferdinand and Isabella were without contradiction obeyed in Castille: which reproachful injury the poor Princess bearing with exceeding patience, though many great marriages were offered her, refused them all, and betook herself to a Monastery, wherein she ended peaceably her days. They began their reign in the year. 1474. and continued the same many years in great glory, both of war and peace. They expelled the Moors out of Spain, and subdued the kingdom of Naples, delivering thereof a quiet possession to their successors, which yet do enjoy it. They had between them a son, whose name was john, a Prince of exceeding towardness, or rather singular perfection. They married him to Margaret, daughter to Maximilian of Austria by the Lady Mary the before remembered Duchess of Burgundy, but soon after the marriage he died: for whom there was made such exceeding lamentation, as by report of sundry Authors, the like in the world was never heard of: for besides the doleful mourning of the Nobility & Gentlemen, so general a grief was over the whole Realm, that the very mechanical people, abandoned over to sorrow, ceased their trades for the space of forty days, filling the air with pitiful cries and lamentations. They had also four daughters, Isabel, jone, Mary, and Katherine: Isabel died young, jone was married to Philippe, brother to the foresaid Lady Margaret, and Katherine to Arthur prince of Wales, eldest son to Henry the seventh of England.  
Queen Isabel, after that by many noble and heroical deeds, she had over the whole world won unto herself a reputation to be one of the most virtuous and excellent princesses that ever lived, in the five & fiftieth year of her age ended her days at Medina del campo, the xxiiij of November, in the year. 1504 Twelve years after died Ferdinand her Husband, at a little village named Madrigalecio, 
Philip of Austria. Fray Gonçalo de Illescas. 1506.  hard by Gaudalupe: A Prince, as of singular integrity and virtue, so of a rare and wonderful felicity and happiness in whatsoever he did undertake.  
Philip, son to Maximilian and Mary, being in Flaunders, 
Chronic. de Espania. Michael Eisinger. Surìus.  hearing of the death of Isabel Queen of Castille, whose eldest daughter he had married, departed presently thence towards Spain with his wife the Lady jone, to take possession of the Crown and Royalty: which at their arrival was willingly by old Ferdinand to them resigned. Philip being now but xxiiii years of age, was with a firm constitution of body well proportioned and beautiful, and especially, above the rest, so courteous and affable in his speeches and behaviour, that what with his beauty and his virtue, he drew the eyes and loves of all men to him, in so much that the Spanish Nobility and Courtiers, forsaking Ferdinand, who thirty years had been their King, all followed the rising son of young Philip, so that the Court of Ferdinand was altogether solitary and unfrequented, no one of the Nobility keeping him company, save only the Duke of Alva (who never did abandon him:) with which inconstancy of theirs, he growing into an exceeding dislike, and with all not pleased with his Sons-in-law behaviour, which by reason of whisperers, that went between, was not so kind, loving, and reverent, as he expected, taking with him his approved servant the Duke of Alva, he went without delay to Arragon, and thence to Naples.  
But scarcely was his back turned, when young Philip, living in as great deliciousness, honour, and triumph, as either the delight of a Crown, the pleasure of that Country, or the dutiful love of his Subjects, could yield him, fell extremely sick of a violent hot burning Fever: of which, notwithstanding the lustiness and strength of his young flourishing years, he died at Burgos the xxv day of September, in the very year of his entry into Spain. 
1506.  Never Prince left behind him a nobler issue: for he had by his wife the Lady jone, two sons, and four daughters, of which the least was adorned with a royal Diadem, viz. Charles, who besides his great succession of many Kingdoms and Provinces, was elected Emperor of the Romans. 2. Ferdinand, who after his brother's death, succeeded him in the Empire, and was beside created King of Hungary. 3. Leonore, married first to Emanuel King of Portugal, and after in second marriage to Francis the French King. 4. Marry, married to Lewes King of Hungary, 
1526.  who in a battle against the Turks, died young and without issue. 5. Katherine, married to john the third King of Portugal: and lastly Isabel, married to Christerne King of Denmark.  
Maximilian, son to Frederick the Emperor, third of that name, 
Maximilian Surius. Gonçalo de Yllescas. Michael Eisinger.  and Leonore daughter to Edward king of Portugal, was in his father's time made king of the Romans, and after his decease, Emperor. He was a Prince exceedingly well learned, just in government at home, and fortunate in War abroad. He had sundry victories against Mathias Corunis King of Hungary, from whom he recovered Vienna, and many other of the Provinces of the lower Austria. Likewise he recovered from the French King the Earldom of Artoys, and many towns of Burgundy, and overthrew a great Army of his at Guignet, whereby he recovered Cambray. He overthrew hard by Regensberg, in a memorable battle, a great Army of the Bohemians, that came to make war upon his brother in law Albert Duke of Bavaria.  
He was with K. Henry the. 8. at the siege of Terowan, and received his wages: during which siege, he himself in honour of England ware the Rose, and his men the S. George's cross. He was an exceeding scourge unto the Venetians; from whom, when they were in the fullness of their glory, he took Padwa, Verona, Vincentia, and the greatest part of Foro julio; and lastly, overthrew them in a notable battle by Vincentia, where he slew of them. 5000. Taking. 24. great Cannons, and all their ensigns and Standards from them. In second marriage he took Blanca, daughter to the Duke of Milan. Finally, in the. 59 year of his age he died in Austria, some say by taking (or rather mistaking) a wrong Potion, to prevent a sickness which he feared. He lieth buried at Newstad in Austria. 8. leagues from Vienna. He left behind him. 2. children, Philip, whose history you heard before, and Margaret, who being by her first husband john prince of Castille left a widow, was afterward married to Philibert Duke of Savoy.  
It is written of Maximilian, that in his sickness he would not suffer those that were about him to honour him with any title of dignity, but to call him simply by his name Maximilian, protesting himself to be but a vile piece of Earth and Clay, made of no better metal than the poorest beggar.  
The last combat spoken of in this treatise, is of Henry the eight, 
Henry the eight.  of famous memory: Whose noble and heroical deeds, being so fresh in the remembrance of all men, I think it needless to make repetition of them, neither if I would undertake it, were the labour of so high a task in any proportion convenient to the feebleness of my slender force: Much less to speak of her Majesty, 
Queen Elizabeth.  whose Princely name is lastly therein mentioned, but will leave the glorious story of her happy reign, to those golden pens, that being dipped in the liquor of the Muses, may like Ariosto his silver Swans, with a clear flight bear up her sacred name, and in despite of Time, fasten the same to the fair pillars of Eternity, in the highest turret of the house of Fame. That which I can do, is to pray unto the everliving Righteousness, that as he hath, with admirable goodliness, made her shine in gifts both of body and mind, above all the Princes of her time, so he will preserve her unto us many, long, and flourishing years: For so long as we shall enjoy this our precious and sacred Palladium, we shall need to fear neither the force of fierce threatening Agamemnon, nor the wiles offals undermining Sinon.  
FINIS.  
I have in the margin of every History, noted the names of those Authors which herein I do chief follow.