THE LIVES OF EPAMINONDAS, OF PHILIP OF MACEDON, OF DIONYSIUS THE ELDER, AND OF OCTAVIUS CAESAR AUGUSTUS: COLLECTED out of good Authors.  
Also the lives of nine excellent Chieftains of war, taken out of Latin from EMYLIUS PROBUS, by S. G. S.  
By whom also are added the lives of Plutarch and of Seneca: Gathered together, disposed, and enriched as the others.  
And now translated into English by Sir THOMAS NORTH Knight.  
ANCHORA SPEI.  
Imprinted at London by Richard Field 1602.   

TO THE MOST HIGH AND MIGHTY PRINCESS ELIZABETH, BY THE GRACE OF GOD, OF ENGLAND, France, and Ireland, Queen, Defender of the Faith, etc.  
THE Princely bounty of your blessed hand (most gracious Sovereign) comforting and supporting my poor old decaying life, of right challengeth the travels in my study, the labours of my body, and the prayers of my devotions to be wholly employed for your Highness, and altogether dedicated to your service. Wherein whilst I strive to bring in open show some small performance of my most humble duty to your sacred Majesty, mine own unworthiness amazeth me with trembling fear for my presumption, but that your highness matchless grace to so many your most admirable virtues offer my pardon. Under which I present in all humbleness into your majesties sacred hands this my second translation of the late addition of fifteen other lives, unto those former in Plutarch, published for benefit of my country, under protection of the most royal name of your most gracious Majesty. And albeit in respect of myself I offer but duty, which I wish I could in other and better sort perform: yet I am the rather emboldened herein, for that the famous memory of renowned Emperors, mighty Kings, worthy Chieftains and Generals of armies yea and of two famous Philosophers Plutarch and Seneca, being the whole subject of this second translation, is worthily published under your majesties patronage. Whose rare virtues and wonderful wisdom, neither former mighty kings, nor learned Philosophers might equal: from whose blessed fortunes many oppressed Kings, and distressed kingdoms have sought and found their succours: and whose most honourable and most happy peaceable government, is world's wonder to all posterity.  
Wherhfore most gracious and most blessed Sovereign, I beseech your Princely favour to accept with grace the simple performance of your poor unworthy servant his most humble service, whose soul with heartiest prayer according to his most bounden duty, continually calleth unto God for preservation of your most royal person, in all honour, health, and happiness, and so still to reign over us.  
Your majesties most humble and obedient servant. Thomas North.   

THE LIFE OF Epaminondas.  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  

OH only like thyself, the world always  
Admireth thy great valour, grace and wit:  
And thinking to have all good parts in it,  
By having thee, triumpheth in thy praise.   
WRiters of histories report that Cadmus the son of Agenor having taken sea out of PHENICIA into EUROPE, by commandment of an Oracle he left the country of THRACIA where he had dwelled, and came into BOEOTIA, where he had great doings against a certain neighbor-people called SPARTANS: of whom having overcome part of them by subtleties, he made alliance with the chief of those that were left alive, and grew into such favour with them, that he drew them and their people unto THEBES, where these great men which were of noble house took them wives, and so had a great number of worthy men of noble race descended from them. Of which some of them were very rich men, and attained to the type of royal dignity: as Creon and jocastus. Now because they were divided into two principal houses, it is hard to judge out of which of the two families of the Chronians or Echionides, Polymnis the father of Epaminondas was descended. Some are of opinion that he came out of the house of another chief man of the SPARTANS', called Vdaeus, from whom descended the divine Tiresias. But howsoever it was, he descended from one of the most noble and ancient houses of the THEBANS, of whom they report this notable thing: that the most part of this noble lineage carried upon their body even for a natural birth-marke from their mother's womb, a Snake: and so did they bear it in their arms in the device of their Scutcheons. Touching this matter, I hold the saying of the Poet Euripides to be true: that the honour of noble houses falleth to decay, if once their goods fail them. For the poverty whereof some of Epaminondas ancestors made virtue and profession, seemed to be the cause that they were made small account of. Otherwise I cannot allow that the said Poet spoke of, that a noble and virtuous man is no body, if he be poor. For one Epaminondas only thoroughly confuteth this opinion, who notwithstanding he was exceeding poor, obtained nevertheless the chiefest places of honour in the common wealth: for he was one of the best learned and most excellent Philosophers of the world, being Plato's follower and familiar, and the most renowned man of all the GREEKS', as appeareth by the discourse of his life. Now Polymnis had two sons, to wit, Caphisias, and Epaminondas, whom he was very careful to see well brought up and taught all the liberal and honest sciences, especially Epaminondas: who had the most stayedst wit, and best inclined to virtue, desirous to harken and to learn, humble, obedient, and wonderful apt and docible. And according to the discipline of the THEBANS, he learned of one Dionysius to be very skilful in song and playing upon instruments. And as for learning, and in Philosophy chief, it happened well for him that he fell into good men's hands by such a mean. When the colleges and companies of the Pythagorean Philosophers that were dispersed through the cities of ITALY, were banished by the faction of the Cyloniaus: they that kept still together, met in council at METAPONT to determine of their affairs. But some seditious persons rose against them, set fire in all parts of the house where they were, and burned them all together, saving Philolaus and Lysis, who being young and lusty, saved themselves through the fire. As for Philolaus, he recovered the country of the LUCANIANS, and kept there with his friends: but Lysis went further, and got to THEBES, where when he was arrived, Polymnis received him, and prayed him to be Epaminondas schoolmaster, who was but a young boy, but yet of good capacity, and of very great hope. This Philosopher employed his endeavour to manure this noble and quick wit of Epaminondas, and in short time made him ready and perfect in all science and virtue: so that it is hard to found a more wise, grave, and virtuous person than he was, of whom it is fit we should say somewhat more at large. When he was but fifteen years of age, he gave himself to all manner of exercises of the body, as to run, wrestle, play at the weapons, and to practise all manner of arms: and being quickly skilful in all these, he then gave himself to his book, being naturally silent, fearful to speak, but never wearied to hear, and to learn. Whereupon Spintharus the TARENTINE having been a long time with him in THEBES, said he never spoke to any man that knew so much and spoke so little as Epaminondas. If he fortuned to be in any company where there was talk of Philosophy, or of state matters: he would never from thence till he saw the matter ended that was propounded. Furthermore, he had no great liking of these dark and mystical arguments of some, that think to hide virtue in the obscurity of their words, but he gave himself wholly to the true practice thereof: though otherwise he was as pleasant a man to give a fine slent in discourse, as could be possible to be found. As the disputation betwixt him and Theanor, touching poverty and riches doth witness, which worthily deserveth to be mentioned here, as in his proper place.  
Lysis after he had lived a long time in THEBES, died, and was honourably interred by his disciple Epaminondas, who had honoured and entertained him whilst he lived, & at his death omitted no ceremonies requisite at his funeral. Arcesus, one of the chief of the Pythagorean Philosophers that stayed in SICILIA, understanding that Lysis was at THEBES, through age not able to go to him: appointed by his will and testament that they should bring Lysis alive again into ITALY if it were possible, or at leastwise the rest of his bones, if it so happened he were dead. The wars that fell out in the interim were a hindrance that that could not be done so speedily. But when the ways were open and free, the Pythagorians sent Theanor of their sect to THEBES, where he found Lysis dead and buried, and so coming to Epaminondas, after salutations and preambles, told him before Polymnis and Caphisias that his companions which were very rich, willed him to give Polymnis and his children a good sum of money, in recompense of their courteous entertainment which they had given to Lysis. Whereupon after pleasant excuses made, Epaminondas concluded, that none could be received: and added further, that jasona Captain of the THESSALIANS thought I had given him a rude and uncivil answer, when he having earnestly entreated me to take a good sum of gold which he gave me, I sent him word that he did me wrong, and began to make war with me: for that he aspiring to make himself a Lord, would corrupt me with money, a plain citizen of a free town, and living under the law. But for thee, Theanor, I commend thy good will, because it is honest and virtuous, and I love it with all my heart: but I tell thee, thou bringest physic to men that be not sick. Admit then that thou hearing we had been in wars, hadst brought us arms to defend us, and then in the same place thou hadst found us quiet, and in good peace and amity with our neighbours, thou wouldst not have thought it good to have bestowed these arms, and left them with those that had no need of them. Even so thou art come to relieve our poverty, as if it were a grief unto us: whereas to the contrary it is an easy and pleasant thing for us to carry, and we are glad we have it in our house amongst us: and therefore we need no arms nor money against that that doth us no hurt at all. But thou shalt tell thy brethren there, that they do use their goods very honestly: and also that they have friends here which use their poverty well. And as for Lysis entertainment & burial, he himself hath fully recompensed us: having taught us amongst many other goodly things, not to be afraid of poverty, nor to be grieved to see it amongst us. After Theanor had made some reply touching the good or evil of riches: as that if poverty were not evil of itself, neither was riches to be had in contempt, and despised. Not truly said Epaminondas, yet considering with myself that we have a world of covetous desires of many things, some natural as they call them, and borne with us, bred in our flesh for the lusts pertaining to it: others strange unto us grounded upon vain opinions, which taking a settling and habit in us by tract of time, and long use through evil education, ofentimes do pluck us down, and withdraw our souls with more force and violence, than those that be natural unto us. For reason, by daily exercise of virtue and practise thereof, is a mean to take many of those things away from us that are borne and bred within us: yet this notwithstanding, we must use continual force and exercise against our concupiscences that are strangers unto us, to quench them in us, and by all possible means to repress and subdue them. Now having made sufficient proof of that, there is also, said he, an exercise of justice against greedy covetousness of getting, which is not, not to go rob and rifle his neighbours houses in the night, nor not to rob men on the high way side, nor if any man betray not his friends nor his country for money: such one doth not exercise himself against covetousness, for law possible, or fear, bridleth his covetous desire to offend any man. But that man that oftentimes willingly abstaineth from just gains, which he may lawfully take: he it is that by continual exercise keepeth himself far off from unjust and unlawful taking of money. For it is unpossible that in great pleasures, yea wicked and dangerous, the soul should contain itself from coveting of them, unless before being oftentimes at his choice to use them, he had not contemned them. And it is not easy to overcome them, nor to refuse great riches evil gotten being offered, unless he had long before killed in him this covetous desire of getting, the which besides many other habitudes and actions is still greedily bend shamefully to gain, pleasing himself in the pursuit of injustice, hardly sparing to wrong another, so he in any thing profit himself. But to a man that disdaineth to receive liberality and gifts of his friends, and refuseth to take presents offered him by kings, and that hath rejected the benefits of fortune, putting by all covetous desire of glistering treasure laid before him: he shall never be assailed to attempt him to do that is unjust, nor his mind shall never be troubled, but will content himself quietly to do any thing that is honest, carrying an unright heart, finding nothing in it but that that is good and commendable.  
But his life is far more excellent than his discourse: and as touching that, I will yet speak somewhat of it. Diomedon DYZICENIAN, at Artaxerxes request, promised to win Epaminondas to take the PERSIANS' part. To bring this to pass, he came to THEBES, and brought a great mass of gold with him, and bestowing three thousand crowns, he bribed a young man called Mycithus, whom Epaminondas loved dearly. This young man went to Epaminondas, and acquainted him with the occasion of the other man's coming to THEBES. But Epaminondas strait answered him, Diomedon being present: I have no need of money: if the king wish well to the THEBANS, I am at his commandment without taking one penny: if he have any other meaning, he hath not gold nor silver enough for me: for I will not cell the love I bear to my country for all the gold in the world. As for thee that hast now attempted me, not knowing me, haply thinking me to be like thyself, I pardon thee: but get thee away quickly out of the city, jest thou seduce some other, having failed to corrupt me. And for thee Micythus, deliver him his crowns again: and if thou dost it not presently, I will sand thee before a justice. Thereupon Diomedon besought him he would let him go away with safety, and carry that with him he brought thither. Yes marry, said Epaminondas, but it shall not be for thy sake, but for mine honour: being afraid that if thy gold and silver should be taken from thee, some man would accuse me that I had a share in that which I refused to take openly. Than he asked him: Wither wouldst thou I should 'cause thee to be conveyed? Diomedon said, TO ATHENS: which was done, and he had a very good convoy with him: and because he should not be troubled by the way betwixt the gates of THEBES, and the haven where he should embark himself, Epaminondas gave Chabrias the ATHENIAN charge of this man, that he should see him safe at his ways end, and so he strait returned back again.  
Now though he was very poor, yet he would never take any thing of his city or friends, he was so well acquainted with poverty, which he bore more patiently through his study of Philosophy. For on a time he having the leading of an army of the THEBANS into the country of PELOPONNESUS, he borrowed about five crowns of a citizen for his expenses in his journey. Pelopidas being a man of great wealth, and his exceeding good friend, could not possibly ever make him take any part of his goods, but rather Pelopidas learned of him to love poverty. For Epaminondas taught him to think it an honour to him to go plainly appareled, to eat moderately, to take pains willingly, and to make war lustily. But to relieve others, he would make bold to use his friends goods, and in such a case their goods were common to him. If any of his citizens were taken prisoner with the enemy, or any friend of his had a daughter to be married, and was not able to bestow her: he called his friends together, and sessed every man of them at a certain sum, and afterwards brought him before them that should have this money, and told him how much every man had bestowed upon him, that he might thank them all. But on a time he went far beyond this: for he sent a poor friend of his to a rich citizen of THEBES, to ask of him six hundred crowns, and to tell him that Epaminondas willed him to let him have them. The citizen being amazed at this demand, went unto Epaminondas to know what he meant to charge him so deeply, to make him disburse these six hundred crowns unto him. It is, saith he, because this man being an honest man, is poor: and thou that hast rob the commonwealth of much, art rich. He lived so soberly, and was such an enemy unto all superfluity and excess, that being on a time invited to supper to one of his neighbours, when he saw great preparation of fine meats, baked meats, made dishes and perfumes: he said unto him: I thought thou hadst made a sacrifice, not an excess of superfluity, and even so went his way. Even the like he spoke of his own table, saying, that such an ordinary never received treason. On a time being at a feast with his peers and companions, he drank vinegar. And when they asked him what reason he had to do so, and if it were good for his health? I cannot tell, saith he, but well I wot it is good to put me in remembrance how I live at home. Now it was not for that his nature misliked sweet meats, that he lived thus strictly, and did love and embrace poverty, for he was marvelous high and nobly minded: but by his strait and unreprovable life he led, he thought to bridle many insolences and disorders then reigning amongst the THEBANS, and to reduce them to the former temperance of their ancestors. As upon a time a cook giving up an account to him and his fellows of their ordinary expenses for certain days, he could found fault with nothing, but with the quantity of oil that was spent. His companions marveling at it: Tush, saith he, it is not the expense that offendeth me, but because they have powered in so much oil into their bodies. The city of THEBES made an open feast, and they were all of them in their banquets, feasts, and great assemblies one with the other: but Epaminondas to the contrary, he went dry up and down the town very sad, without being anointed with any oil of perfume▪ or decked with brave apparel. Some of his familiar friends met him in this estate, and wondering at him, asked him why he walked so alone, & ill appareled through the city? Because, said he, you might in the mean time safely give yourselves to drink drunk, and make merry, taking thought for nothing. Thus have we spoken enough touching his temperance: and as for his other virtues they are most famous in arms, the which he with great good fortune and happiness managed for the good of his country.  
Now his modesty would in no wise suffer him to seek his advancement, but contrariwise he withdrew himself from government, only to give himself quietly to the study of Philosophy. Howbeit it happened that the LACEDÆMONIANS on a time prayed aid of the THEBANS, at that time being in league with them, who sent them certain foot-bands. Epaminondas being about five and thirty years of age, armed himself, and went with the rest. Than it was that that friendship began betwixt Pelopidas and him, which constantly continued even to the end. For they both being in battle ray the one by the other, against the ARCADIANS, whom they had in front against them in the plain of MANTINAEA, it chanced that one of the points of the battle of the LACEDÆMONIANS in the which they were, retired, and many of them left their ranks: but they being resolute, determining rather to die then to fly, stood to it like men, until that Pelopidas being hurt in seven places, fell down upon an heap of dead bodies: then Epaminondas, though he took him to be but a dead man, stepped manfully before him to defend his body and arms, and he alone fought against many, resolved to die in the place, rather than to leave Pelopidas among the dead men, until that himself being thrust into the breast with a pike, and wounded in the arm with a blow of a sword, (ready to give over) by good fortune and in a happy time, king Agesipolis came on with the other point of the battle, and saved them both. Afterwards the LACEDÆMONIANS finely wan the castle of THEBES called CADMEA, put in a strong garrison there, and gave the government of the city unto Archias, Philippus, and Leontidas, authors of all the mischief. Whereupon to avoid their violence, Pelopidas and many others with speed fled and saved themselves, and were banished by sound of trumpet. And as for Epaminondas they said nothing to him, but let him alone in the city: for he was contemned as a man of no reckoning, because he was so given to his book: and if he should have had any will to have stirred against them, he could have done them no hurt for his poverty. Now whilst Pelopidas and his companions being at ATHENS, had laid a plot to free THEBES, Epaminondas making no show of any thing, had long before devised another practice, which was: to lift up the hearts and courage of the young men of THEBES. For when they went out to play and exercise their bodies, he always found a way to make them wrestle with the LACEDÆMONIANS. Afterwards when he saw the LACEDÆMONIANS fiercely throw them, and give them shrewd falls they being the stronger, he rebuked the THEBANS, and told them, it was a shame for them for want of courage, to suffer the LACEDÆMONIANS to set their feet upon their throats, that were not half so strong, rough, and boisterous as they were. All this while Pelopidas and his followers went on with their complot, and they had so good success in their purpose, that one night they got privily into the city of THEBES, and met at Charon's house, where they were to the number of eight and forty. Epaminondas knew all well enough, and some towards night taking him aside, went about to persuade him to join with them in this enterprise, and to take arms with them to set upon these tyrants: marveling much, that he would be so backward, the liberty of his country standing upon it. He answered, that he had taken order with his friends and Gorgidas, that they should put themselves in readiness upon any occasion, howbeit that he would put none of his citizens to death, unless they were condemned by law: yet if you will make an attempt for delivery of the city, so it be without murder, and shedding the blood of the citizens, I will help you (said he) with all my heart. If you will not believe me, but persever in your determination, I pray you let me alone, pure and undefiled with the blood of my citizens, and so blameless to attend occasion, whereby I may justly take hold of that which may turn to the good of the commonwealth: for the murder that will be committed, cannot possibly be contained within reasonable bounds. I do certainly believe that Pherecides and Pelopidas peradventure will specially set upon the authors of the tyranny: but Eumolpidas and Samiadas, both choleric and fierce men, taking the liberty of the night, they will never lay down their arms, nor put their swords up into their sheaths, before they have filled all the city with murders, and slain divers of the chief personages. Moreover, it is very convenient for the people of THEBES, that some be left free, and blameless of this murder, and guiltless of all that shall be done in this fury of action: for so the people shall least suspect that we give any encouragement to their rising, although to good end. Notwithstanding all this the enterprise was executed, and the tyrants put to death, the city restored to her ancient liberty, and the castle of CADMEA rendered up by composition, and Lysandridas the LACEDAEMONIAN and other commanders within, suffered to departed, with safety of their goods and the soldiers.  
These were the beginnings of the long wars of the LACEDÆMONIANS against the THEBANS, with whom the ATHENIANS joined in league. For Epaminondas, he quietly gave himself to his book: notwithstanding he was put forward by Pammenes, a principal man of THEBES, and he began to follow the wars very hotly, and in divers encounters made great proof of his wisdom, hardiness and valour: insomuch that by degrees he attained at the length to the highest charges of government in the commonwealth. And his citizens having made no further reckoning of him, being a man of forty years old: after that they came to know him, and had trusted him with their army, he saved the city of THEBES that was like to have been undone, and freed all GRECE from the servitude and bondage of the LACEDÆMONIANS: making virtue as in a clear light shine with glory, showing her effects when time serveth. Furthermore, Agesilaus being entered into BOEOTIA with an army of twenty thousand footmen, and 5. thousand horse, preyed and spoiled all the plain country, and presented the THEBANS in open field that which they would not accept, finding themselves the weaker: howbeit they defended themselves so well, through the aid of the ATHENIANS, and of the wise conduction of Epaminondas and Pelopidas, that Agesilaus returned home with his army. But after he was go, the THEBANS went with their troops before the city of THESPIES, where they surprised and put to the sword two hundred men of the garrison, and afterwards gave divers assaults one upon another unto the wall, and seeing their labour lost, they returned with their army back again to THEBES. Howbeit Phoebidas the LACEDAEMONIAN, he that had taken the castle of CADMEA by treason, (whereupon rose all this war that followed) and was then governor of THESPIES, made a sally out of the town, and rashly went to give a charge upon the THEBANS in their retreat, where he lost five hundred of his men, and himself was slain in the field. Not long after, the LACEDÆMONIANS with the self same power returned again to make war with the THEBANS, who having won certain straits and places of advantage, so blocked up the way, as they could not overrun the country, and spoil it as they had done before. Nevertheless, Agesilaus had so harried and troubled them, that by little and little they came to a main battle, which held very long and cruel. Now though Agesilaus at the first had the better, yet the THEBANS charged him so hotly, that at the length he himself was hurt, and constrained to retire, being well paid for teaching the THEBANS military discipline. And this was the first time that the THEBANS knew themselves to be as strong and lusty as the LACEDÆMONIANS: whereupon they triumphed in sign of victory, and from that time forwards, they waxed more courageous to make head against the enemy, and to present them battle. But the only thing that did most encourage them, was the presence of Epaminondas, who counseled, commanded, and executed very wisely, valiantly, and most fortunately. A certain time after that, they went with a great number of good chosen men before ORCHOMENE, where they prevailed not, because there was a strong garrison of the LACEDÆMONIANS, that sallied out upon them to give them battle, which was very sharp between them. And yet, albeit the LACEDÆMONIANS were many against one, the THEBANS gave them the overthrow, which never happened to them before: but what nation soever they had been, they thought they had done a great feat, if with a greater number by many, they had overcome a small number of the LACEDÆMONIANS. But this victory, and the encountering of TEGYRE, where the THEBANS obtained another victory under the conduct of Pelopidas, lift up their hearts on high, and made their valour more famous than before.  
The next year following, Artaxerxes king of PERSIA, meaning to make war in EGYPT, and therefore to retain diverse strangers, determined to appease the wars against the GREEKS' in hope that they being at peace, would more easily be contented that soldiers should be levied in their country: and thereupon sent his Ambassadors to all the towns of GRECE, to persuade and entreat them to be at peace together. The GREEKS' were very willing to harken unto it, being wearied of all sides with so long a war, and were easily drawn to treat of peace: whereby it was especially agreed and concluded, that all the cities of GRECE should be free, and use their own laws; and commissioners were sent all about to withdraw the garrisons in every place where any was kept. Unto this the THEBANS only refused to agreed, that every town should by itself severally capitulate in this treaty, requesting that the towns in the country of BOEOTIA should be comprehended under the city of THEBES. Thereunto the ATHENIANS mightily opposed themselves, and there was one of their Orators called Callistratus, that touching this matter made a notable oration before the assembly of the states of GRECE. And Epaminondas on the other side also, made a wonderful and vehement oration in defence of the right of the THEBANS: insomuch as this controversy was left undecided, and the treaty of peace was universally agreed and concluded amongst all the other GREEKS', the THEBANS only excepted, who were not comprised within the treaty. So through the motion of Epaminondas, they were bold to withstand the decrees of all the rest of GRECE. For the ATHENIANS and LACEDÆMONIANS that many years before had contended for the principality of GRECE, made then division together: so that the one should command by sea, and the other by land. Thus they could not like in no wise, that the THEBANS should aspire to be chief, and therefore they sought to dismember the other towns of BOEOTIA, from the city of THEBES. And the rather for that the THEBANS being strong and lusty of body, and encouraged for that of late they had oftentimes beaten the LACEDÆMONIANS, would strive with them for the superiority of GRECE by land, but specially they had a wonderful confidence in the wisdom and prowess of their Captains, but especially of Epaminondas. Matters resting thus doubtful, the citizens of PLATAEES, a town of BOEOTIA, desirous to be at league with the ATHENIANS, they sent to request some soldiers of them, promising to put the town into their hands. The governors of the country of BOEOTIA having intelligence of it, desirous to prevent the garrison of the ATHENIANS, brought a troop of soldiers against them, and they all came before PLATAEES, before the towns men had any knowledge of their coming: insomuch that part of them were surprised in the fields by the horsemen, and the other fled into the town. But having no body to aid them, they were compelled to receive and accept such composition as it pleased the THEBANS to grant them: which was, to leave their town, and to go safely with bag and baggage, and never to return again into the country of BOEOTIA. After this, the THEBANS razed the city of PLATAEES to the ground, and had the sack of the town of THESPIES enemy unto them. All the GREEKS' solicited again by the Ambassadors of PERSIA, thought it good to make a general peace, and so assembled the commissioners of all the towns at SPARTA. Epaminondas that was yet scant known, because he loved not to show himself, and in all his exploits of war had ever preferred the advancement of his great friend and companion in arms Pelopidas, before himself: yet famous among the GREEKS' for his great knowledge and experience, was sent thither by the THEBANS. Epaminondas finding that the other commissioners did lean to Agesilaus, began to speak boldly and plainly, and made an oration, not only in the THEBANS behalf, but for all GRECE also: making them plainly see, that war did still increase the greatness of the city of SPARTA only, and keep all the rest of the towns of GRECE under. Therefore he gave counsel to all to establish a firm peace indifferently betwixt them, that thereby it might have the longer continuance, when all comprised within the contract should be equals. Agesilaus perceiving all the GREEKS assistant at this assembly to give very attentive ear unto him, and to be tickled, hearing him speak so freely of peace: he asked him aloud if he thought it just and reasonable, that all BOEOTIA should be set at liberty. Epaminondas on the other side, did presently and boldly ask him again, if he thought not also that it was just and reasonable that all LACONIA should be set at liberty. Thereupon Agesilaus in anger stood up on his feet, and commanded him to answer plainly, if they should not restore all the province of BOEOTIA to her liberty. Epaminondas returned the self same speech again unto him: if they should not also put that of LACONIA in her liberty. This did so anger Agesilaus, besides that it did him good to have this colour for an old grudge he bore unto the THEBANS, that forthwith he put the name of the THEBANS out of the list of those that should be comprised within the peace, and immediately proclaimed open war against them. But this being done had evil success afterwards, and by reason of the sudden and rash enterprise of the LACEDÆMONIANS, it turned to their utter overthrow. For the THEBANS, there was no remedy but they must bear the whole brunt alone: for there was not a town that durst sand them any aid, because they were all agreed and sworn to this peace, insomuch as every one thought them utterly cast away and undone. Many pitied their estate, and they that loved them not rejoiced: they made so full account, that the LACEDÆMONIANS should found nothing that could stand before them.  
So the LACEDÆMONIANS made king Cleombrotus march with his army towards THEBES: and being come near to CHAERONEA with ten thousand footmen, and a thousand horse, he pitched his camp there to stay for the rest of his allies. The THEBANS having intelligence of the approach of the enemy, chose Epaminondas to be captain general, giving him the charge of this war, with six other counsellors, whom they call Beotarches, as who would say, Governors of BOEOTIA, to be of his counsel, and to assist him. Now there came Oracles to the THEBANS from all parts: some promising victory, others threatening overthrow. He commanded them to set those on the right hand of the chair for Orations that promised victory: and those that threatened overthrow on the left hand. They being thus disposed of, he got up to the chair for Orations, and said to the THEBANS: If you will be obedient to your Captains, and courageous of heart to encounter your enemies, these here, (showing the good Oracles on the right hand) are yours: but if for faint hearts you refuse danger, those there (showing the bad on the left hand) shall be for you. Thereupon enrolling all the THEBANS names that were of age to bear arms, and of some parts of BOEOTIA those that he thought fittest for wars: word was brought him that a very honest and valiant man of his person died in his bed. OH Hercules, said he, what, had this man leisure to die in all these troubles? His presence rejoiced and made all his army lively: also all the time he was Captain of the THEBANS, they never saw any of these terrors happen in his camp without manifest cause, which they call sudden fears. He was wont to say, that there was no death more honest, then to dye in the wars: and that the body of a soldier should not only be kept in exercise like the champions that fight for mastery, but rather more hardened to endure any labour or pains meet for a good soldier. And therefore he could not abide very fat men, but cassered a whole band of them for that cause only: saying that scarce three or four targets could cover so great a belly, as did keep him that he could not see his own privities. So he drew his army out of THEBES, having in all but six thousand fight men. Even as they were marching away out of THEBES, divers of the soldiers thought they had had many unlucky signs. For as they were going out of the gates, Epaminondas met on his way a Herald, that following an ancient ceremony and custom of theirs, brought an old blind man as if he had been run away: and the Herald crying out aloud, Bring him not out of THEBES, nor put him not to death, but carry him back again, and save his life. The old men took this meeting and cry for an evil sign: but the young men kept silence, and spoke never a word, for fear it should be thought that their hearts failing them, they would seek to dissuade Epaminondas from going the journey he had undertaken. And he himself, unto some that were bold to tell him, that it were well done before he went any further, to consider first what success the flying of the birds did promise' unto him, answered this verse of Homer: 
It is a happy sign, to fight for his country.  Such a present and frank resolution stopped the mouths of all those that were not very constant. But there happened yet another sign worse than the first. For there went a Secretary before him carrying a javelin, unto the which was tied a scroll to make the soldiers know that they should do what the General commanded them. The wind rose and blew off this scroll and carried it away, folding it upon a square pillar that stood upon a tomb of certain LACEDÆMONIANS, and PELOPONNESIANS, that had been slain in that place when Agesilaus brought his army thither. Also there came again certain old men unto him to speak with him, persuading and protesting that he aught not to go any further with his army, since the gods were so manifestly against it. All this notwithstanding he never ceased to march with his camp, thinking that the conscience and resolution to fight in a good cause, aught to be much stronger and of more force to put him in good hope, than these evil signs that appeared to make him mistrust the worst. And as in marching to meet with the LACEDÆMONIANS they heard it thunder: they that were near unto him, asked him, what that thunder meant? That, faith he, betokeneth that the enemy's brains are troubled and astonished: seeing they having hard by them so commodious places to campein, they now lie encamped where they are. Indeed they halted, staying for divers of their allies that came not: all of them having at better leisure considered of the discourse Epaminondas made in SPARTA in open assembly of all the commissioners of every town, against the ambition of the LACEDÆMONIANS. For him therefore applying to good purpose at that time all the goodly discourse he had learned by the study of Philosophy, for the present time the common people blamed him much: but after the fortunate success of his intention, every man then judged him to be a man ripely understanding the duty of a wise and valiant chieftain of war. For making his army march with speed, he wan the straits hard by the city of CORONEA, and camped there. Cleombrotus on the other side, understanding that the THEBANS had gained that passage, despairing he could not pass that way: made his army go a great compass about by the country of PHOCIDE, and marching alongst the sea side in a very troublous and dangerous way, at the last he pierced into the country of BOEOTIA without any danger. And as he went also he took in little towns, and certain galleys that lay alongst that coast, and in the end arrived at LEUCTRES: and there set down to refresh his men a little, overwearied with travel in their journey. The BOEOTIANS marched presently that way to meet with them, and so passing over some little mountains, they discovered them in the plain of LEUCTRES, which did amaze them, seeing so great an army.  
The Boeotarches thereupon came together to consult whether they should go forward, and to fight one against many: or else retire, and found out some better place of advantage. In this counsel their opinions fell out to be equal: for three of them thought it good to retire: the other three with Epaminondas, said, they must tarry and fight. So the conclusion of this counsel being doubtful, and the Boeotarches disagreeing, Pelopidas captain of the holy band came to them, who was of the second opinion: so that they all agreed together to put it to the hazard of battle. But Epaminondas seeing their soldiers afraid through the superstition of these signs, devising by some like remedy to put this mistrust out of their heads: to bring this to pass, some being newly come from THEBES, he willed them to say and give it out every where, that no man could tell at THEBES what was become of the arms that hung up in Hercules' temple: but that the voice was all the town over, that the ancient demi-gods their ancestors had come and taken them away, for the aid of their descendants at this present time. He suborned another also, that gave it out he was newly come from Trophonius trunk or hole, and that the god which giveth the Oracles in the same, commanded him to tell the BOEOTIANS that after they had overcome their enemies in the plain of LEUCTRES, they should celebrated yearly plays in the honour of jupiter. And thereof it came that the BOEOTIANS long time after that did yearly celebrated a feast, which is made in LEBADIA. Now to end the painting of this artificial devise, Leandrias a SPARTAN, being a banished man out of his country, and fight at that time for the BOEOTIANS, being brought before the soldiers, whom they encouraged to fight like men the day of the battle: he did swear unto them that the LACEDÆMONIANS had an ancient Oracle, that said they should loose their principality, when they should be overcome by the THEBANS in a pitched field, in the plain of LEUCTRES. It is true indeed that the LACEDÆMONIANS had had many oracles and forewarnings to bid them beware of the anger of LEUCTRES: but the common people understood not what this warning meant, but were deceived by the equivocation of the word: for that there were three LEUCTRES: to wit, in LACONIA, ARCADIA, and BOEOTIA. Howbeit, the vision of Pelopidas, whereof is made large mention in his life, and the sacrifice he made of the young Filly that came into his camp, confirmed all the former inventions, and made them bold that were most discouraged. Adding withal, that Epaminondas having assembled all his army, began to encourage them with these strong and lively reasons to show their valour: insomuch, that being freed from this superstitious fear, they longed for nothing more than to come to blows. Epaminondas ever concluded all his orations in this manner: OH worthy men, embrace sacred death, advancing yourselves to the most honourable and famous fight for your country, for the tombs of your ancestors, and for the holy things. Even at the same time came to the THEBANS an aid of five hundred horse, and fifteen hundred footmen THESSALIANS, conducted by jason: who practised with both sides to make a peace for certain days, telling them he was not wise that feared not the events. Some judge it was not at that time that jason traveled between them both, but rather that it was after the journey of LEUCTRES. Howbeit, I have followed that which Diodorus the SICILIAN writeth, as a thing most likely. Now as Cleombrotus retired with his army out of BOEOTIA, he met with a great supply of natural LACEDÆMONIANS, and of some of their allies, brought to him by Archidamus, Agesilaus son. The LACEDÆMONIANS seeing the THEBANS so resolute, and fearing their desperate boldness: sent these two troops the easilier to daunt the courage of their enemies. These two being joined together they were ashamed to be afraid of the BOEOTIANS, and whether it was that the truce taken was near expired, or that they forced not of it, they returned on the sudden again into the plain of LEUCTRES fully bend to fight. The BOEOTIANS also for their part shrunk not an inch back, and so on both sides they set their men in order of battle. For Epaminondas, he set his battle after a new fashion, never before showed by any other Captain. For having chosen out of his army the best men and valiantest soldiers he had, he placed them together in one of the points of his battle, where he should be himself & fight in person, seconded with Pelopidas, with his three hundred chosen men, called the holy band: and in the other corner he placed his weaker men, commanding them expressly not to abide the charge of the enemies that should come to assail them in front, but fair and softly to retire when they saw them come near them. So the matter fell out as he wished: and he hoped to determine the battle by the virtue and prowess of that point where he had placed all the flower and choice of his army.  
Now the sign to fight being given, the LACEDÆMONIANS marched of even hand with the two horns of their battle, ordered in form of a Crescent. On the contrary part, one of the wings of the battle of the BOEOTIANS began to give back, and the other with great fury ran to charge the enemy in the flank: strait they were both come to the sword together. And at the first, because either side fought very desperately, the victory was doubtful for a certain time: but at the length Epaminondas troops broke in amongst the LACEDÆMONIANS, and killed the most part of them that were about king Cleombrotus. So long as the king was alive, he kept back the THEBANS from victory, because he was accompanied with all the most valiant men of his army, valiantly fight about him. But after he fell down dead on the ground, having received an infinite number of wounds, and stricken down many of his enemies: then they thronged together on all sides, and there was a cruel fight about his body, where were heaps of men's bodies slain one upon another. And although Epaminondas did sharply follow his point, yet the LACEDÆMONIANS made such resistance at the last, that they did a little repulse the BOEOTIANS and cleared the body of the king out of the press and multitude: but that held not long. For Epaminondas through his persuasions did so lift up the hearts and courage of his men, that they gave a second and so fierce a charge upon them, that they wholly overthrew the LACEDÆMONIANS, & made them fly for life. Than Epaminondas fiercely pursuing the flying enemies, made great slaughter, and won one of the most gloriousest victories that ever Captain did: having in a pitched field overcome the most noble and warlike nation of all GRECE, with a far smaller number of men than his enemies had. Also he took more glory of that above all his other exploits, & especially because it happened unto him in his father Polymnis' life time. And oftentimes he had these words up in his mouth: that of all the honest and happy fortunes that ever chanced unto him, nothing joyed his heart more, then that he had vanquished the LACEDÆMONIANS at the battle of LEUCTRES, his father and mother that begat him being both alive. And to say truly, he that day preserved the life of his father and mother, and of his whole country beside: for the LACEDÆMONIANS were fully resolved utterly to destroy the THEBANS. Now he using at all other times to show himself amongst them, fine and neat, with a pleasant countenance: the next day after the battle at LEUCTRES he came out openly very sad, heavy, and pensive. Whereupon his friends asked him presently if he had heard any evil news, or some misfortune had happened to him. None, said he, but I perceived by myself yesterday, that overjoyed with the victory I obtained, I lift up myself more than become me: and therefore to day I correct this joy, which yesterday was too exceeding in me. He knowing that it was the manner of the SPARTANS' to hide and cover (as well as they could possible) all such misfortunes, desirous openly to suppress and show the greatness of the loss they had sustained: he would not suffer them to carry away their dead bodies by great all together, but every city one after another: and so by this means it appeared that there were above a thousand LACEDÆMONIANS. Some make the number of the dead to be greater, and say they were four thousand natural LACEDÆMONIANS, but that must be understood of them and their allies: and of the BOEOTIANS, there were not above three hundred or thereabouts found dead. This battle of LEUCTRES was stricken at the beginning of the 2. year of the hundred and second olympiad.  
The LACEDÆMONIANS having at that battle lost the greatest part of their honour and greatness, which men had seen before in their estate, lost not their courage for all this: but to keep their youth still in heart, and to take away all fear which had possessed them that had escaped from this overthrow: Agesilaus entered ARCADIA with an army, and was contented to take a small town of the MANTINEEANS, and to prey and spoil the country, which done he returned home again. Some think that this was the cause that brought Epaminondas into LACONIA. Othersome report it otherwise, and say that Agesilaus would not suffer the MANTINEANS to re-edify their city. And there be that are of another opinion, which is: that Lycomedes Captain of the ARCADIANS having made a road hard to ORCHOMENE, he slew upon an encounter Polytropus Captain of the LACEDÆMONIANS, and 2. hundred SPARTANS' with him, his purpose being to win ORCHOMENE: and that thereupon they finding themselves too weak to stand against the LACEDÆMONIANS, they sought the alliance and aid of the THEBANS. How soever it was, the LACEDÆMONIANS and ARCADIANS being enemies, by reason of their chief city of MANTINAEA: that was the cause the THEBANS joined with the ARCADIANS, and being followed with their allies, led by Epaminondas, they entered into LACONIA with an army of forty thousand men of war, and with thirty thousand others that followed the camp. The ATHENIANS sent Iphicrates Captain with twelve thousand men to aid the SPARTANS': but before his coming Epaminondas entered into LACONIA in divers places, and sacked all the whole country, which had not been laid waist by any enemy in six hundred years space before, when the DORIANS came to inhabit there. The SPARTANS' seeing their country wasted and destroyed before their eyes, were desirous to go out with all the force they could make: but Agesilaus would not suffer them, telling them how dangerous it was to leave the city, to set upon such a mighty enemy. So they were quiet, and Epaminondas in the mean space descended the mountain Taugete with his army, towards the river of Eurotas, the which at that time was risen very high by reason of the winter. He sought what he could to draw Agesilaus to fight, who beholding Epaminondas a great while, marching in battle ray alongst the rivers side at the head of his troops: he wondered at his boldness and valour, but would by no means come out of his fort. Insomuch as after this army had preyed and foraged all LACONIA, Epaminondas led them back again laden with booty. And though Agesilaus had won himself great honour for his wisdom, in looking to the safety of his city: yet Epaminondas had made his country so poor, with the former losses sustained, especially at the overthrow at LEUCTRES: that SPARTA could never afterwards recover that loss again, nor grow into that reputation and power it had before. Furthermore, notwithstanding all the aid of the ATHENIANS, and the experience of Iphicrates, Epaminondas returned with his whole army as he came. And the more to keep the LACEDÆMONIANS still under their feet, and to heap new troubles upon them: he gave counsel to the ARCADIANS and other their allies, to re-edify and replenish the city of MESSINA with new inhabitants again, which the LACEDÆMONIANS had long before that destroyed. All the whole council giving their consents unto it, he made diligent inquiry forthwith to seek out all those that till that time had been ancient inhabitants in MESSINA: and in the space of fourscore and five days having re-edified the ruined houses, he set a foot again one of the noblest and most ancient cities of GRECE, and left there a strong garrison: for the which he was as much esteemed and rather more, then for any other service he had ever done.  
The LACEDÆMONIANS being lightened of a marvelous great fear, made an agreement with the ATHENIANS, and left them the chief command by sea, reserving to themselves that by land. Afterwards through the aid of the ATHENIANS, and the supply that was sent unto them out of SICILIA, they won their towns again by little and little. The ARCADIANS to stop their course, assaulted the city of PALLENE in LACONIA, put all the garrison there to the sword, razed the town, and preyed all the country thereabout: and doubting that the LACEDÆMONIANS would be revenged, they prayed aid of the THEBANS, who sent Epaminondas thither with the other Boeotarches, six thousand footmen, and five hundred horse. The ATHENIANS having intelligence thereof, sent their army before under the leading of Chabrias, who marched directly to CORINTH, and there had supply of soldiers, of the MEGARIANS, PALLENIANS, and CORINTHIANS: so that he had made up a regiment of ten thousand men. And afterwards the army of the LACEDÆMONIANS and of their allies, being arrived at the very place of CORINTH, they made all together the number of twenty thousand fight men. So they determined to repair and fortify all the passages and entrances into the country of PELOPONNESUS, to stop the passage of the BOEOTIANS. And beginniug from the city of CENCHREES unto the haven of LECHEUM, they shut and blocked up all the ways from the one sea to the other, with mighty great pieces of timber a cross, and with a marvelous deep ditch. And this great piece of work was followed with such speed, both by means of the great multitude of people, as also through the goodwills of those that laboured it hard: that they had finished and done all before the BOEOTIANS could arrive there. Epaminondas at his coming having diligently viewed and considered this fortification, perceived that the easiest way to be forced, was that which the LACEDÆMONIANS themselves kept. So he sent to give them defiance, though they were thrice as many men in number as his own. For all this that they had the defiance, they durst not come out, but kept them close under this fortification, which receiving certain assaults, they were repulsed. Now all of them doing their best endeavour, being occupied, some assailing, other defending, Epaminondas chose out the best men in all his army, and lustily charging the guard of the LACEDÆMONIANS enforced them to give him way, and in despite of them he entered into PELOPONNESUS, which was a wonderful and memorable exploit of all others. Fron thence he marched towards the cities of EPIDAURE and TROEZEN, and so foraged all the country: howbeit he could take none of the towns, because they were defended with strong garrisons. Nevertheless he put SICYONE, PHEUNTE, and some other towns in such fear, that they yielded themselves unto him. That being done, he went to CORINTH, and there overcame the CORINTHIANS in a set battle, and bet them home fight even to the walls of their city. There were some of his men so rash, and presuming of their valour, that they entered hand over head with those that fled, even within the gates of their city, which put the CORINTHIANS in such a terrible fear, that they ran with all speed possible to get their houses over their heads. Chabrias beaten them out again, and killed some of them. Whereupon he caused a token of triumph to be set up, as if it had been an overthrow. Epaminondas laughing him to scorn for it, said he should not call it a Trophy, or token of triumph, but rather Hecatesie, as one would say, a statue of Proserpina: because in times past they commonly set this image of Proserpina at the first gallows they found before the gate of any city. The BOEOTIANS therefore came on with their battle as near unto CORINTH as they could, and Chabrias with his troops camped without in a very strong place of advantage for him: so there were many skirmishes between them, in the which Chabrias showed such valour, that he won great fame and reputation, even of Epaminondas himself. Who being asked on a time whom he thought the greatest captain, himself, Chabrias, or Iphicrates: It is hard to judge, said he, whilst we are all alive. Another brought him word that the ATHENIANS had sent an army again into PELOPONNESUS, furnished with new armours. Well, answered he, doth Antigenidas weep when he knoweth that Tellin hath new flutes? This Tellin was a very bad player of the flute, and Antigenidas excellent good & skilful. Touching the supply of this army, they were ten thousand SPANIARDS and GAULES, whom Dionysius the tyrant sent out of SICILIA to aid the LACEDÆMONIANS, having paid them for five months. They had served reasonably well in this war, and so in the end of summer returned home again.  
Now it fortuned in these last encounters, that Epaminondas having forced the LACEDÆMONIANS that stood to the defence of the fortification above mentioned, and having them in his power to have slaughtered a great number of them at his will: he contented himself only with this glory, that in despite of them he had entered into PELOPONNESUS, and sought to do them no more hurt: which gave those occasion that did envy his glory to blame him, and to accuse him of treason, as having willingly spared the enemies, because they should particularly thank him only. But now that we have begun to speak of this matter, we must see how he behaved himself among his citizens, and the wisdom he used in defence of his integrity. Among all those that could not endure the glory of his virtues, was Meneclides the Orator, an eloquent man, but withal most wicked and malicious. He finding that Epaminondas won such honour by wars, never left persuading the THEBANS to embrace peace, and to prefer it before war: because they should not live always under the obedience and command of one man. Epaminondas told him one day in open council: Thou wilt deceive the THEBANS, going about to counsel them toleave wars: and highly commending ease, thou goest about to put iron bolts upon their feet. For war begetteth peace, the which cannot hold long but among those that know how to seek and keep it with the edge of the sword. Than speaking to the citizens: If ye will have the principality and command of all GRECE, before all others: you must shroud yourselves in your tents and pavilions in the open field, and not follow games and wrestle here at home. Also he knew well enough that the BOEOTIANS spoiled and undid themselves by ease and idleness: which was the cause that he constantly bore this mind to keep them continually in wars. Whereupon when time came that they fell to choosing of Captains, and that they went about to choose him Boeotarche: he said to the citizens: My masters, I pray you consider of it now you are at leisure, before you choose me: for I tell you plainly, if I be chosen your captain, you must to the wars. He called the country of BOEOTIA, which is all plain champion, the scaffold of war: saying it was unpossible to keep it, unless the inhabitants had their targets on their arms, and their swords in their hands. This was not because he did not love peace, and solitariness to study Philosophy, and that he was not more fearful of them he had in his charge then for himself, using always to watch and forbear his meat, when the THEBANS were at their banquets and feasts giving themselves to all pleasures: but he knew them well enough, and he was never more careful of any thing, then to keep his army from idleness. For on a time the ARCADIANS entreating that his troops might enter into one of their towns, to lie dry there in covert all the winter, he would by no means yield to it. For now (said he to his soldiers) that they see you exercise yourselves in arms, they wonder at you as brave and valiant soldiers: but if they should see you at the fire side parching of beans, they would esteem no better of you then of themselves. Not more could he endure covetousness: for if sometime he gave his men leave to go a booting, his meaning was, that whatsoever they got should be bestowed in furnishing of arms. For if any man went about to fill his purse with money, he thought him unworthy to be a soldier. As on a time when he perceived that his Target-bearer had received a great sum of money for the ransom of a prisoner, he said unto him: Give me my target, and go thou thy ways, and buy thee a Tavern to lead the rest of thy life there: for I perceive thou wilt no more like an honest man put thyself in danger in the wars, as before thou hast done, because thou art now rich and wealth. Now Epaminondas being such a one as you have heard, Meneclides notwithstanding would never cease controlling of him: and one day he went so far as to reproach him that he had no children, that he was not married, and that he magnified himself more than ever king Agamemnon had done. Epaminondas answered him, thou hast nothing to do to counsel me to marry: for in that respect there is never a man here in all this council whom I would less use than thou. And this he spoke, because the other was suspected to be an adulterer. And where thou thinkest that I do envy the glory and fame of Agamemnon, thou art foul deceived: yet I tell thee he was not a little troubled to win a town in ten years: where I to the contrary putting the LACEDÆMONIANS to flight in one day, have delivered our city and all GRECE from them. But thanks be to you, my Lord THEBANS, (speaking to all the whole assembly:) through you I did it, and overthrew and ruined the power and government of our enemies. Nevertheless, Pelopidas and he were very evil recompensed for this good service of theirs: for at their return from LACONIA, they with some other of the Boeotarches were accused, for that after the time of their charge and government was expired, they had kept it four months beyond the time the law had appointed them. With much ado Pelopidas was absolved: but Epaminondas willed his companions to lay all the fault upon him, as being forced unto it by his authority: and that for his part his words could be no better than his deeds. So upon this he being called before the judges, and after he had justified that he had passed the time limited of his authority: in stead of excusing himself, he went and told bravely his worthy exploits he had done in this journey at that time, adding withal, that he was willing and ready to die, so they caused his condemnation to be written upon the pillar of his tomb, to the end the GREEKS should understand that they had put Epaminondas to death, because he had compelled the THEBANS against their wills to burn the country of LACONIA, the which in five hundred years before had never once been spoiled: that he had restored the city of MESSINA with inhabitants again, two hundred and thirty years after the LACEDÆMONIANS had laid it waste: that he had brought all the people and towns of ARCADIA to be as one body in league together, and had set all the GREEKS' at liberty: and all these things, said he, we did in our journey. The judges understanding this worthy and true defence, they all rose from their seats and laughed a good, and would never take their balls to ballot against him.  
But as for this second accusation, that he had showed favour unto the LACEDÆMONIANS for his own particular honour, he would make no answer before the people of THEBES to this false imputation, but he rose out of the Theatre, and passing through the assembly walked into the park of exercises. The people being in uproar against him, made no choice of him again as they were wont to do, although there was great need: but created other Boeotarches to go into THESSALY. And the more (as they thought) to despite Epaminondas, they commanded him to go that voyage as a private soldier: the which he refused not, but went very willingly, and upon this occasion. Pelopidas being sent the second time into THESSALY, to make accord betwixt the people and Alexander the tyrant of PHERES, was by this tyrant (not respecting the dignity of an Ambassador, nor of his country) made prisoner with Ismenias. Whereupon the THEBANS being justly offended, sent thither an army of eight thousand footmen, and five hundred horse, howbeit under the leading of unskilful Captains, who wanting judgement to use the time, thought it good to return home again without doing any thing. But as they went their way, Alexander being stronger in horsemen than they, followed them, and gave charge upon the rear, killed some, and grievously wounded others. So they knowing neither how to go forward nor backward, were in great distress, and the rather because their victualsfell shorter every day than other. But being now almost out of all hope to retire home with safety, Epaminondas being then amongst the foot, was earnestly entreated by the soldiers and Captains to help to redress this disorder. Thereupon he chose certain footmen light armed, and all the horsemen, and so falling himself amongst them in the rearward of the army, he so lustily repulsed the enemies, that the rest of the army afterwards marched in great safety: and did so well, fight at times, making head as occasion served, and keeping his troops in so good order, that he brought them all away safe. This act crowned him with a new glory, confounded his enemies, and wan him great honour every where, besides the love and good will of his citizens: who set great sins upon their Captains, because they had hehaved themselves so evil in this journey. Again, the people seeing that by so many worthy deeds Epaminondas razed out all the slanders and accusations which his evil willers had vomited out against him: they chose him a new their Captain general, to return into THESSALY with another army. At whose coming all the country strait rejoiced for the reputation of so great and famous a Captain, and there wanted little even to break this tyrant's neck▪ altogether, his friends and Captains stood in such fear, and his subjects in good mind to rebel, and very joyful for the hope they had shortly to see the tyrant at one blow well recompensed for all his cursed and wicked deeds he had done long before. Nevertheless Epaminondas▪ setting aside the consideration of his honour and glory, in respect of the deliverance and safety of his friend Pelopidas, and being afraid that Alexander, when he should see his estate in danger to be overthrown, would take revenge in his madness upon Pelopidas: he purposely drew this war in length, wheeling about in every place, refraining to set on him in earnest, dissembling to make his preparations, and still delaying, because he would prepare and soften the heart of this tyrant by this device, not to leave him too much to his bold unbridled will, neither to stir up (to the danger of Pelopidas) the sharp and inhuman anger of this bloodsucker. Who being a monster, compounded of cruelty and cowardice, was so afraid only of the name and reputation of Epaminondas, and hanging the wing as they say: that he presently sent men unto him to excuse and justify him. But Epaminondas would not that the THEBANS through his slackness should make peace and alliance with so wicked a man, but only he was contented to take a truce with him for thirty days, taking Pelopidas and Ismenias out of his hands. So with them he returned back again to THEBES, and always continued faithful friendship with Pelopidas, refusing ever to have any part of his goods, but did still persevere in his wont simplicity and discipline. Now speaking of this friendship, they report that Epaminondas having committed a man of base condition for some light fault to prison, Pelopidas prayed him to set the poor man at liberty, but he denied him: and yet afterwards being entreated by a woman he kept, he did it at her request, saying that harlots were to be granted such requests, not Captains.  
This boldness he showed in all places, and to all men, yet mingled with a great sweetness, and with a good lively grace: whereof we will bring many examples, besides that he spoke at SPARTA against the LACEDÆMONIANS and Agesilaus, in the presence of all the commissioners of GRECE. The ARGIANS having made league with the THEBANS, the ATHENIANS sent their Ambassadors into ARCADIA, to see if they could gain the ARCADIANS to be their friends. So these Ambassadors began roundly and hotly to charge and accuse both the one and the other: insomuch as Callistratus speaking for them, reproved the other two cities, ORESTES and OEDIPUS. Epaminondas being present at that assembly of counsel, stood up, and said: My Lords, we confess that in times past we had a man that killed his father in our city, and in ARGOS one that killed his mother: but for us, we have driven out of our country, and banished all such wicked murderers, and the ATHENIANS have received them both. And to the SPARTANS' that had laid many great and grievous imputations upon the THEBANS: If they have done nothing else, my Lords of SPARTA, answered Epaminondas, yet at the lest they have made you forget to speak little. The ATHENIANS had made league with Alexander the tyrant of PHERES, mortal enemy of the THEBANS, who promised the THEBANS that he would let them have a pound of flesh for an half penny. Epaminondas hearing of it, Well said he, and we will found them wood that shall cost them nothing to seethe this flesh withal: for we will go fell and cut down all the trees they have in their country, if they go about to make any alteration other then good. So when he went into THESSALY, and brought back Pelopidas again, the ATHENIANS made no great stir against him: and the tyrant that promised flesh so good cheap, had much ado at that time to keep his skin whole. But afterwards he had his payment, as you may read in the latter end of Pelopidas life. But that which did excel in Epaminondas, and did cut the throat of envy itself, was his moderation and temperance, knowing how to use any state or condition offered him, & never to rage's against himself nor others, always bearing this mind, that howsoever they took him, and in what place soever they set him, he was well contented, and all for the good of his country: for proof whereof I will show you this example. His evil willers on a time thinking to bring him in disgrace, as they say, for spite they made him superintendant and overseer of all the customs, whilst others his inferiors, unworthy to be compared to him, were placed in the most honourable offices. This notwithstanding he despised not this office, but did discharge it very faithfully: for, said he, office or authority showeth not only what the man is, but also the man what the office is.  
But now further: shortly after Epaminondas return out of THESSALY, the ARCADIANS were overcome by Archidamus and the LACEDÆMONIANS, and they lost not a man: and therefore this days journey was called for them, the tearless battle. Epaminondas foreseeing that the ARCADIANS should yet have a storm, gave them counsel to fortify themselves: whose counsel they following, they built the town which afterwards was called MEGALIPOLIS, situated in a very convenient place. Whilst they made war with the ELIANS their neighbours, Epaminondas heart never fainted, but his mind was always given to high enterprises for the good of his country: where being respected and honoured above all others, he made an oration unto his citizens, persuading them to make themselves strong by sea, and to attend the conquest of the principality, making themselves Lords of it. This oration of his had been long thought of before, being full of lively reasons, which did show and prove unto them that the enterprise was both honourable and profitable, aswell by other arguments he alleged, as also for that he told them it was an easy thing for them that were now the stronger by land, to make themselves also the strongest by sea: and the rather for that the ATHENIANS in the war against Xerxes, notwithstanding that they had armed and set forth two hundred galleys well appointed with men, they nevertheless willingly submitted themselves unto the LACEDÆMONIANS. So alleging many other reasons to this purpose, he prevailed so much, that the THEBANS inclined to undertake the enterprise by sea. Thereupon the people gave present order they should build a hundred galleys, and withal an arsenal with so many rooms to lay them under covert in the dock: and that they should sand to them of RHODES, of CHIO, and of BYZANCE, to pray them to further them in this enterprise. And for this purpose Epaminondas was sent with an army unto these cities. So in his course he met with Laches, a Captain of the ATHENIANS, and a good number of ships in his fleet, sent of purpose to hinder the intention of the THEBANS. Notwithstanding, Epaminondas made him so afraid, that he drove him back again: and he holding on his voyage, brought the cities before named to make league with the THEBANS, who on the other side were at war with the city of ORCHOMENE, which had done great hurt and mischief in their estate. So they having won it by assault, they slew every man that was able to bear arms, and moreover made all the women and children slaves.  
Some time after Pelopidas death, certain private men of MANTINAEA, fearing to be called to accounted for their bad behaviours and robberies they had done, if the ARCADIANS and ELIANS fell to agreement: they practised so, that they raised up a new quarrel within the country divided into two factions, of the which the MANTINEANS were chief of the one side, and the TEGEATES on the other part. This quarrel went so far, that the parties would try it by arms. The TEGEATES, they sent to demand aid of the THEBANS, who chose Epaminondas their Captain general, and sent him with a good number of men of war to aid the TEGEATES. The MANTINEANS astonished at this aid coming out of BOEOTIA to their enemies, and at the reputation of this Captain: they immediately sent unto the ATHENIANS and LACEDÆMONIANS, the greatest enemies of the BOEOTIANS for aid, which both the cities granted. Whereupon there fell out often and many great skirmishes in diverse parts of PELOPONNESUS. Epaminondas being not far off MANTINAEA, understood by the same country men, that Agesilaus and the LACEDÆMONIANS were come into the field, and that they wasted all the territory of the TEGEATES. Whereupon imagining strait that there were few men left in the city of SPARTA to defend it, he went about a great exploit, and a wonderful stratagem of a man of war: and had brought it to pass, if the marvelous great good fortune of SPARTA had not hindered it. So he departed from TEGEA by night, the MANTINEANS knowing nothing of it, and taking another way than Agesilaus, he had taken SPARTA without one stroke stricken, but for a post of CANDIA that with speed brought Agesilaus word of it: who forthwith sent out a horseman to give them intelligence that were left at SPARTA, that they should beware they were not surprised upon the sudden: and he himself came speedily after, and arrived there a little before the THEBANS coming thither: who being very near the city by break of day, gave assault to them that were within to defend the town. Than Agesilaus bestirred him thoroughly, beyond the power of an old man. But his son Archidamus, and Isadas the son of Phoebidas, fought valiantly of all parts. Epaminondas seeing the SPARTANS' in order of battle, began then to mistrust that his enterprise was discovered. This notwithstanding, he left not off to force them all he could, albeit he fought with great disadvantage for the inconvenience of the places he occupied: and continued always courageously doing and receiving hurt, until the army of the LACEDÆMONIANS came on, and the night also: whereupon he made them sound the retreat. Now he being advertised that the MANTINEANS came on also with their forces, he drew his troops somewhat further of the town, and there camped. After that he caused his men to refresh themselves with victuals, and having left certain horsemen in the camp, he commanded them to make fires in the morning, and he himself went in the mean space, to surprise those that remained at MANTINAEA before any man witted he was go. Nevertheless he failed of his purpose, albeit he had forethought him of all misfortunes that any man possible could have considered in so weighty a cause. But the prosperity of the THEBANS was come to his height, and the course of Epaminondas life drawing near to an end, would very shortly deprive GRECE of this noble and famous person, from whom was taken a most notable victory, and that twice, by a most strange accident. For at this second time, when he was near unto MANTINAEA, left without guard and defence; on the other side of the town there arrived six thousand ATHENIANS, led by their Captain Hegelecus: who having put sufficient force into the town, he ordered all the rest in battle without the town walls, as though he meant to have fought a field: and immediately after them came also the LACEDÆMONIANS and MANTINEANS together, who prepared themselves to put all to the hazard of a battle, and therefore sent for their allies out of all parts. They were in all five and twenty thousand footmen, and two thousand horse. The ARCADIANS, BOEOTIANS, and their partakers, made the number of thirty thousand footmen and above, and three thousand horse. First, the horsemen charged with so great fury as was possible, insomuch as the horsemen of the ATHENIANS finding the THEBANS in front, were the weaker: not because they were less valiant and hardy than the other, but because they had not so good leaders, and had few archers among their troops. The THEBANS on the other side they were well appointed, and specially of THESSALIANS amongst others, men very skilful in their bows, who so plied the ATHENIANS, that they broke them, and put them all to rout. Yet they did not fly amongst their footmen, which made them somewhat recover their honour they had lost by running away, and all because they had not broken the ranks of their allies. On the contrary part, as they fled they met with certain troops of soldiers of NEGROPONT, whom the ARCADIANS sent to take in certain hills hard by the plain where the battle was fought, and they put them all to the sword. The men at arms of the THEBANS seeing them turn their backs, did not pursue them at all, but gave charge upon a great battalion of footmen, forcing them all they could to break and run through them: so the fight was very cruel and sharp, but in the end the ATHENIANS left the place. This notwithstanding, the Colonel of the horsemen of the ELIANS being appointed for the safety of the rearguard, defended them, and coming to the encounter of the BOEOTIANS he resisted them, and made them speedily give back: and this reform the fault again of the left point of their army. But in the right point, after the horsemen had charged one upon the other, the fight was soon tried. For, by reason of the great number of the men at arms of the THEBANS and THESSALIANS, the partakers of the MANTINEANS were presently put to rout, and after they had lost a great number of their men, they succoured themselves about the battalion of their footmen. And this was the success of the fight of the horsemen. As touching the battalions of the footmen, after they came once to the sword, it was a marvelous bloody and most cruel fight: for never before that time was there so great a number of GREEKS' in battle one against the other, nor so great Captains, nor of better fight and more valiant men. The two nations that at that time bore the name to be the bravest soldiers for footmen of all the world, to wit, the THEBANS, and LACEDÆMONIANS, they were set in front in the battle one directly against the other. So the first began to charge, neither sparing life nor limb. The first charge they gave was with their pikes, which being broken by force of the great blows they gave to each other, than they fought with their swords, and laying about them body to body, there was no kind of slashing and wounding but they both gave and received: and neither part shrunk nor gave over, but stuck to it manfully. And so continuing this dangerous fight a long time, by reason of the valiantness of either side: the victory stood doubtful a great while, and could hardly be judged which side were like to have the upper hand. For every one that fought had this resolution in his heart, not to fear death what soever happened: but rather desiring to make proof of the valour of his person, worthily gave his life in prey, to win honour in exchange. By reason whereof, though the fight was most sharp and violent, the event of it remained a long space betwixt two irons, not to be discerned of whether side the victory should fall. Until such time as Epaminondas seeing that there was no remedy, but that the resolution of this doubtful fight depended upon his own virtue and valour: he resolved with himself to venture his life upon it. So he presently gathered about him all the best and choice men of his army, and of them having made a company of resolute men, he ran with great fury into the greatest press of all the enemies, marching himself the formest man before his troop, with a spear in his hand, with the which at the first blow he gave, he slew the Captain of the LACEDÆMONIANS, strait way the other began to assail their enemies. But Epaminondas killed so many in the place with his own hands, and did so terrify the others, that at the last he opened the battle of his enemies, and laid on them so lustily, that they not able any longer to defend themselves against the valorous force of himself and his followers, were enforced to give back, and to leave the place to the BOEOTIANS: who were strait at their heels, beating and following them so eagerly, that in a short space all the field was covered with dead bodies, lying on heaps one upon another. But in the end, the LACEDÆMONIANS seeing they could by no means save themselves, because Epaminondas followed them so near (given over too much to his passionate courage) they gathered a troop together, and running all on heaps they set upon him, throwing infinite number of darts at him, of the which he put by some, and received others upon his target, but yet there were many that stuck in his body, which he pulled out himself, and with the self same weapons fought with them that had thrown them at him. At the last, when he had fought more than a man, and beyond all the force a man could use to give his country the victory: a LACONIAN called Anticrates thrust him into the breast with a dart with such a force, that the wood broke, and the iron with the truncheon remained in his body. Having received this great wound, he suddenly fell down to the ground: but then was there a more cruel fight about him then before, with great slaughter of both sides: until that the THEBANS, which had much stronger bodies than the LACEDÆMONIANS, made them fly for life, and after they had followed them a little way, they returned again to the camp where the battle was fought, to the end they might have the dead bodies in their power, and so the whole victory. Thereupon they sounded the retreat, and thus the battle ceased, for the which both of them set up tokens of triumph, either side pretending they had the better. For the ATHENIANS having overthrown those of NEGROPONT and their adherents which were sent to take the hills of that plain: they kept the bodies in their power. The THEBANS on the other side having overcome the SPARTANS', had the bodies of those that were dead in that battle in their power, being the far greater number also: wherefore they said that they were victors. So standing in these terms, it was a good while before they sent trompeter or herald the one to the other, to bury their dead: until that the LACEDÆMONIANS sent first of all, and then they all took their dead bodies and buried them. And furthermore, he that had killed Epaminondas was so well thought of, & highly esteemed for this valiant act of his, for the great fear all the SPARTANS' had had of Epaminondas in time past: that they gave him many great presents and honours, and beside, made those that came after him free from all public charges and contributions in the common wealth. And Plutarch also said, that in his time one Callicrates, a nephew of Anticrates above named, did then enjoy that freedom. Touching Epaminondas, he was brought yet alive into his tent: howbeit the physicians and surgeons being called together to dress him, they all agreed, that so soon as ever they pulled out the head and splent of the dart out of his body, he must needs dye. So he made a most worthy and noble end of his life: for first he called for his target-bearer, who was always at his hand in battle, and asked him, Is my target safe? He brought it strait to show it him. Than he asked who had the victory? The BOEOTIANS, said the target-bearer. Than he commanded they should bring him Diophantus and jolidas: but being told they were both dead, he willed his citizens to make peace with their enemies, for that now they had no more Captains of skill to lead them to the wars. Adding further to that above spoken, It is now time I die, and so commanded them to pluck this spell of the dart out of his body. At that word all his friends about him fetched grievous sighs and cried out: and one of them weeping, said unto him: Alas Epaminondas, thou diest now, and leavest no children behind thee. Not that I do not, said he: but I leave two fair daughters behind me, whereof the one is the victory of LEUCTRES, and the other that of MANTINAEA. Immediately they pulled out the spell of the dart, and at that instant he gave up the ghost, without showing any sign or token that he was troubled in his mind. And thus did he embrace that blessed death: that fortuning unto him which he often had in his mouth: that war is the bed of honour, and also that it is a sweet death to dye for his country. Now may we well see, that he excelled all the Captains that ever were before him, did accompany, or follow him. For whosoever would compare all their virtues, with the deeds and glory of Epaminondas, he shall see that the virtue of him was more noble and excellent, than any of theirs. For in them will appear at the first sight some special thing more eminent than all the rest, which hath made their fame great and glorious: but in this man only were joined together all the virtues and good parts that could be wished for in a grave, politic, and a great Captain, to make him perfect and complete in all things. For in the liberal sciences, in experience, ripe understanding, force of eloquence, strength of body, disposition of his person, in height and greatness of courage, in temperance, wisdom, watching, sweetness and courtesy: and moreover in hardiness, prowess, good judgement, and sufficiency in military discipline: I know not where there is to be found so complete a man. For my opinion, I compare Epaminondas to himself. Also in his time he won to his country by force of arms, the principality of GRECE: but after his death his citizens lost it immediately, and fell daily to decay: that at the last Alexander the great utterly overcame them, made them that were alive slaves, and destroyed their city to the very ground. To conclude, before, and after Epaminondas, THEBES was under foot, and yet commanded all others whiles he stood on his feet. And so we must conclude, that THEBES was utterly overthrown in the battle of MANTINAEA, and that Epaminondas at that time won an immortal glory. And as in his life time he had carried himself modestly, and always detested covetousness: so after his decease the THEBANS brought him to his grave at the common charge of the town, because they found no money in his house to defray the lest charges of his funeral.  
The end of Epaminondas life.   

THE LIFE OF Philip of Macedon.  
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Philip: that wisdom booteth not at all,  
Which scorning justice, hopes to climb on high.  
Let Princes that behold thy sudden fall,  
Love right and meekness, lest like thee they die.   
AMyntas, the second of that name, and seventeenth King of MACEDON, of the race of Temenides or Caranides, descended from Hercules, and that reigned four hundred and ninety eight years, reckoning from Caranus unto Antipater, in whom began another race: he had three sons by his first wife called Eurydice, borne in ILLYRIA: to wit, Alexander, Perdiccas, and Philip. Alexander having succeeded his father, reigned but one year, during which time he made war with his base brother Ptolomaeus Alorites. But to appease the strife betwixt them, they sent for Pelopidas, who was at that time in THESSALY. He took up all their quarrels, restored those that were banished unto their houses, and (because this peace should be more surely kept) he took of them for hostages, Philip, and thirty other of the noblest men's sons in MACEDON, and brought them all away with him to THEBES. Now during the time that Perdiccas reigned, which was the space of five years, Philip kept at Pammenes house, with whom Epaminondas was very great: & hereof it came, that some thought Philip was a hearer of Lysis Epaminondas schoolmaster, and that they conferred together in Philosophy. Howbeit Epaminondas was then much older than he, & surely it can hardly be that they were scholars together: except they will say that Epaminondas continuing all his life time to profit by the study of wisdom, made Philip desirous to hear him sometime, and to follow him also. And it may be well enough also that he had learned of Epaminondas to be so quick and sudden of execution in the wars, as he was: which was but one of the lest parts of Epaminondas virtues. But as for his continency, justice, magnanimity, and clemency, which were the parts that in truth made him great: Philip, neither bv nature, nor by education, nor by study, ever attained unto it: for all this, he wanted not great gifts of body & mind, as shall appear in the discourse of his life: and as Theophrastus testifieth, he was greater than any other of the kings of MACEDON, not only in prosperity of fortune, but also in wisdom, bounty, and moderation of manners. So it came to pass that Alexander, notwithstanding the accord Pelopidas had made, was traitorously killed by Ptolemy surnamed Alorites, who usurped the kingdom, and was slain himself by Perdiccas: who after he had been overcome in a great battle by the SLAVONS, in the which he was slain: Philip which was the last of the three brethren, stealing away from the place where he was in hostage, fled into MACEDON, and came to succeed in the kingdom, the which he found in great trouble. For there were slain at the last battle above four thousand MACEDONIANS, and those that escaped were so beaten and astonished with blows, that they thought of nothing less than to take arms against the SLAVONS. On the other side the HUNGARIANS made inroads into MACEDON, and the SLAVONS mustered again to return thither. There was one Pausanias also that aspired to the kingdom, by the support of the king of THRACIA. And the ATHENIANS also, they would establish one called Argaeus, and to this end sent a great fleet by sea, and three thousand footmen well armed by land, led by Mantias. Philip taking heart to him in these rude beginnings, began to embolden the MACEDONIANS by wise persuasions: he re-established military discipline, furnished his soldiers very well, making them arm themselves, and gave order they should be continually trained and exercised. It was he that amongst other things devised how to close his footmen, and that framed the square battle, which ever since was called the MACEDONIAN Phalange. He was very gracious in his words, and by his promises and gifts he won the hearts and goodwill of his subjects.  
Now finding himself strong, although he was yet but young of years, he resolved to make head against all his enemies, yet not by open force, but where there was need: being always of this mind, to buy time and men as much as he could possible. So perceiving that the ATHENIANS did their uttermost endeavour to win the city of AMPHIPOLIS again, and that by this means they sought to bring the kingdom of MACEDON into the hands of Argaeus: he made them leave it, and thrust out their garrisons. As for the PANNONIANS (others read PAEONIANS) or HUNGARIANS having sent ambassadors to them, he corrupted some with money, and won others by fair promises: insomuch that they were all contented to live in peace with him. And by the same means he broke the hope of Pausanias, having by presents gained the king of THRACIA that aided him. And for the regard of Mantias captain of the ATHENIANS, he marched with his army unto the city of METHONA: but he remained there, and sent Argaeus with the soldiers strangers whom they had brought with them, unto the city of AEGES. Argaeus approaching near the town with his troop, sent to feel the inhabitants, if they would receive him, and be the first that should be cause of his entry into the possession of the kingdom of MACEDON. But perceiving they cared not for him, he returned again. Philip that followed him hard at his heels gave him battle, killed the most part of his men, and drove the rest unto a little mountain, where he did besiege them so straightly, that they were forced to deliver him all the banished men of MACEDON amongst them: whereupon he let them go their lives and goods saved. This first victory of Philip put the MACEDONIANS again in heart, and made them bold to enterprise any thing afterwards. Hereupon he made peace with the ATHENIANS, and understanding that the king of HUNGARY was dead, he entered into their country with a main army, overcame them in battle, and made them subject unto him. Of all his enemies there were left none but the SLAVONIANS, whom he went to assail with ten thousand footmen, and six hundred horse. But since they could not agreed together, Bardyllis their king trusting in the victories he had gotten before time of the MACEDONIANS, and in the valiantness of his SLAVONS, he came into the field, and presented battle. The which having been fought a long time, Philip behaved himself so valiantly with his men of arms the MACEDONIANS, that he overthrew the SLAVONS, leaving seven thousand of them dead on the ground: and the rest escaped by flying away. Shortly after they were agreed together, and restored to Philip all the places they held pertaining unto MACEDON. Now the AMPHIPOLITANS had of long time borne Philip evil will, and whilst he was occupied in other places, they did him many inuries: wherefore he determined to make a sharp war upon them. He having besieged them with a puissant army, and having brought his engines of war hard to their walls, he beaten them with such fury, that he made a sufficient breach, and entered the town by force: out of the which he drove those afterwards that were his enemies, and very courteously used and entreated the rest. This town being seated in a very commodious place, upon the frontiers of THRACIA, and of the countries near adjoining thereto: stood him afterwards in great stead for the furtherance and increase of his greatness. For by means of that he presently had the city of PYDNE, and made league with the OLYNTHIANS, of great power at that time: by reason whereof he and the ATHENIANS, envying one the other, they both practised to win them. But Philip having won POTIDEA, drove out the garrison of the ATHENIANS and used them very honestly: for the sent them home to their houses their lives and goods saved, not because he loved the people of ATHENS, but for that he feared the power of their city. After he had taken in the city of PYDNE, he gave it to the OLYNTHIANS, with all the territory belonging unto it. Than he returned to CRENIDES, the which he having augmented with a great number of inhabitants, he changed the first name of it, and called it by his own name, PHILIPPIS. Within that territory he had mines of gold, the which he opened and digged so diligently, that he drew out yearly new made, about the sum of six hundred thousand crowns. By this means in a short time he gathered together a great treasure, and daily the kingdom of MACEDON grew great, because it had one of the chiefest sinews and props of war. So he coined a number of pieces of gold called Philippus, wherewith he waged a great number of men, and bribed many private GREEKS': who afterwards sold him for ready money the towns of their country, as we shall see hereafter. In all this business, Alexander the tyrant of PHERES in THESSALY, having been slain by his wife Thebes, and by her brethren called Lycophron, and Tisiphonus, at the first they were honoured as men that had delivered their country of a cruel tyranny: but very shortly after, these two men changing their minds, by money won the soldiers whom Alexander kept for the guard of his person, and put themselves in his place whom they had killed, putting many citizens to death that withstood their enterprise: and having gathered together a great number of soldiers, they made themselves Lords of PHERES. The ALLEVADES, men of authority and greatly followed in the country for the ancient nobility of their house, would have opposed themselves against this new tyranny. But finding themselves to be too weak, they made means to Philip: who entering into THESSALY with his army, overcame the two tyrants, and setting the towns at liberty which these tyrants held in subjection, he showed great love and favour to the THESSALIANS. By which occasion, in all his conquests he obtained afterwards, he found the THESSALIANS always ready to do him service, and to aid him in all his affairs, and not himself alone, but also his son Alexander. But the greatness of Philip grieved his neighbours, insomuch as the kings of THRACIA, HUNGARIA, and SLAVONIA, not being strong enough of themselves, they joined forces together to make war upon him, and to be revenged. Whilst they were preparing to join their forces, Philip went before, and compelled them to do what he would.  
About this time, to wit, in the last year of the hundred and fifth olympiad, fifteen years after the battle of MANTINAEA, the holy war began amongst the GREEKS', which continued ten years space: and this was the occasion. The THEBANS not being contented with the victory they obtained at the battle of LEUCTRES, framed a complaint against the LACEDÆMONIANS in the assembly of the Estates of GRECE, which they call the council of the Amphictyons: and followed the matter so hard, that the LACEDÆMONIANS were condemned in a great sum of money, because they had in time of peace surprised the castle of CADMEA. The PHOCIANS also, they having ploughed up a great deal of a certain land sacred to the gods, called the land of CIRRHE, were condemned by the Amphictyons in a great sum of money: and because they would not pay it, the council pronounced, without longer delay and refusal, all their towns and lands to be confiscated to the gods: & that all other which were condemned (of which number were the LACEDÆMONIANS) should be compelled to pay their fines, and if they refused, they should be taken for excommunicate, and the other GREEKS' should make war with them as against accursed and execrable men. Philomelus, a man of great authority among the PHOCIANS, did so much, that he persuaded them not to pay it, but contrariwise to defend their country with arms, and to win DELPHES. Whereunto they giving their consents, he gathered together a great army, and in despite of all hindrances made himself master of DELPHES: cut asunder with shears the decrees made by the Amphictyons engraven upon marble pillars: possessed all the gold and silver that was in the temple: and afterwards rendered a reason of his fact, and prepared himself to make war against the THEBANS, THESSALIANS, and LOCRIANS, and wan three great battles of them. But being overcome at the fourth battle, he threw himself down of a high rock. In the mean space, Cersobleptes, the son of Clotis king of THRACIA, having rendered up to the ATHENIANS the towns of CHERRONESUS, partly for the good will he bore the ATHENIANS, and partly for the hatred he had to Philip: the people of ATHENS sent inhabitants thither to keep and defend the towns. Philip perceiving that those of METHONE lent out their town to all them that would make war against him, went and laid siege before it. They that were besieged, did valiantly defend it for a time: but in the end finding themselves too weak to make resistance, they yielded upon condition, that the inhabitants should go out every man with one only gown. Assoon as ever Philip had the town in his hands, he razed it even to the hard ground, & gave the country all about unto the MACEDONIANS. At this siege he was wounded with an arrow, that put out one of his eyes. Afterwards he led his army also at the instance of the THESSALIANS, into the country against Lycophron, that began again to tyrannize those of PHERES: who having demanded aid of the PHOCIANS, they sent thither Phayllus with 7000. fight men, whom Philip overcame, and drove them out of THESSALY. Than Onomarchus that succeeded Philomelus in the charge of general, hoping to have won THESSALY, made great speed thither with all his army, under colour to bringaide unto Lycophron. Philip went against him with the THESSALIANS, but because Onomarchus had the greater number of men, he overthrew him, and killed many of the MACEDONIANS, insomuch that Philip himself was in great danger. For his men also were so afraid, that they would have forsaken him, & he had much trouble to keep them together▪ and in the end was constrained to retire home into his kingdom. Onomarchus departing from thence, entered into the country of BOEOTIA, overcame the BOEOTIANS in battle, and took the city of CORONEA. But Philip returned immediately with a great force into THESSALY, to drive out Lycophron: who having called in the PHOCIANS, Onomarchus returned thither, followed with 20. thousand footmen, and five hundred horse. Hereupon Philip persuaded the commons of THESSALY, that they must all together undertake this war. And he could so well solicit them, that he assembled in one camp twenty thousand footmen, and three thousand horse. Than was there fought a most cruel battle, whereof the victory fell to Philip through the valiantness of his THESSALIAN men of arms. For Onomarchus and his men, they fled on foot towards the sea, where was by chance Chares the ATHENIAN Captain sailing all alongst the coast with certain galleys. There was great slaughter of the PHOCIANS there followed by the victors. Others to fly with more speed, threw down their arms, and leapt into the sea, by swimming to get to the galleys of the ATHENIANS. There were slain in battle and flight as well of natural PHOCIANS, as of strangers that came for pay, above 6000. men, & there were taken prisoners to the number of 3000. Onomarchus that was one of them, was hanged, and all the other drowned as sacrilegers, by the commandment of Philip: unto whom Lycophron yielded the town of PHERES, & so retired out of THESSALY, which by this means was set at liberty.  
As for Philip, he marched with his army towards the way of THERMOPYLES, to make war with the PHOCIANS, within PHOCIDE itself: but the ATHENIANS stopped his passage. Wherefore he was constrained to return back into MACEDON, where he stayed not long at rest, but determined to bring the towns of CHALCIDE in subjection to him. So he took by assault a fort called Gyre, the which he razed. But this was such a terror to the other small towns, that they put themselves under his obedience. Passing from thence into THESSALY, he drove away Pytholaus that had made himself master of PHERES. And intending to bring the towns of HELLESPONT under his subjection, he took in without pain or danger (rather by treason) the towns of MICYBERNE, and of TORONE. Afterwards he went with a great army against the city of OLYNTHE, the greatest & of most power that was in that marches: where first he overcame the OLYNTHIANS in two great fights, so that he made them leave the field, & shut them in within their own town, unto the which he gave many assaults, and lost a great number of his men there. But having with great sums of money corrupted Euthicrates & Lasthenes governors of the town, at the length he had it by treason: and having sacked it, he sold the townsmen for slaves by the drum. The taking of this town brought him a great quantity of silver to help to defray the charges of his war, and did also make the other towns afraid, which had taken arms to resist him. Now after he had bestowed many rich presents upon his captains and soldiers, that had done him good service in this war, he gave also all about great sums of money to the heads of the towns, and found merchants also among them that sold him their own country and fellow citizens. Insomuch that he himself confessed he had enlarged his kingdom more through gold and silver, than he did by force of arms: according to an answer that was made him, when he began first to put himself forward: for being desirous to know how he should carry himself, the oracle answered: 
With silver spears begin and end thy war,  
So shalt thou topsie turuy turn all things what ere they are.  Now the ATHENIANS being jealous of his greatness, did ever help them whom he would hurt, and sent Ambassadors to all the cities to persuade them to maintain and preserve their liberty, and to put their townsmen to death whom they found willing to betray the Commonwealth: promising them to aid them all, and declared themselves open enemies unto Philip. He that set them most against him, was Demosthenes: the most eloquent man of all GRECE at that time, and that did more trouble and hurt Philip with the blows of his tongue, and his continual motions then all the Captains of GRECE did him beside. All this notwithstanding, with all the diligence and labour ATHENS could use, they could never bridle the wicked disposition of some private persons, but they still sought to cell their country: for he that bought, sowed silver without any spare, and there were a great number of traitors at that time through all GRECE. And touching this purpose, they say, that he being desirous to win a very strong hold, he sent some men before to view it: who returning, reported that it was unpossible almost to approach it, and did by description set it down in all points impregnable. Than he asked them if the place were so hard to come to, that a poor Ass laden with gold could not come near it: for he had oftentimes with silver very easily won that which otherwise was not to be had by force of arms. And this was the cause that he practised to have traitors in every town by gifts and pensions, calling them that received him his hosts and friends, corrupting men's manners beside by unworthy and dishonest means. As after that he had won OLYNTHE, he made sumptuous and magnificent sacrifices to his gods, to thank them for the victory they had given him: and so having set down a day of triumph for tilting and tourneying, and common sports: thither repaired a great number of strangers that came to see the feast. So keeping open court, he invited many of these strangers to come to his sumptuous feasts he made, and in them he showed all the familiarity and courtesy that might be to entertain them. For he drank to some, and then gave them the cups wherein he drank to them: to others he gave great presents, and unto all generally he gave good words, and large promises▪ insomuch that many sought how to obtain his love and favour. So it is reported, that one day at a banquet he espied Satyrus, an excellent Comedian and player, that he was very sad: and that he asked him why he did not crave some thing of him, that he might show his liberality unto him. Satyrus answered him again, that he would be glad to obtain a suit at his hands, but he durst not ask it him, being afraid he should be denied. Philip liked his answer well, and bade him ask boldly. Than he told him, that a friend of his had two daughters among others prisoners, both of them marriageable, and besought him that he would bestow them upon him: not for any other pleasure or profit he should have of them, but because he would marry them both at his own charge, before they should be forced to their dishonour. Philip thanked him for his honest petition, and presently caused these two maids to be delivered unto him. Thus he bestowed many such courtesies every where, whereof he made his profit afterwards with great usury. For a number being drawn by the scent and odour of so many good turns, studied with themselves, envying one another, which of them might do him best service, and found out most means to deliver towns and countries into his hands.  
But now to return again to that we had begun to speak of the holy war. The PHOCIANS that had three very strong holds in BOEOTIA, to wit, ORCHOMENE, CORONEE, and CORSIES, did ordinarily from thence make incursions into the country of the BOEOTIANS with great number of soldiers strangers whom they kept in pay, and did burn and lay waste all the territory thereabouts, and ever had the upper hand in all their inroads and skirmishes they had with the countrymen. Upon this occasion the BOEOTIANS being weak of men, and wanting money, sent in the end to demand aid of Philip: who was not a little glad to see them brought so low, for he desired their pride might be pulled down, which had lift them up so high since the battle of LEUCTRES. So he sent them a good number of soldiers, not for any desire he had to aid them, but to make them think that he made great account of the temple of DELPHES, which the PHOCIANS had spoiled. After divers exploits of war, the one side and the other seeing themselves weary and bore, the BOEOTIANS prayed Philip to come and aid them: which he granted them, and taking a supply of THESSALIANS with him, he came to LOCRIDE with a good army, and put himself in order to end this war at one battle. But Phallecus General of the PHOCIANS, finding himself not strong enough to fight with him, sent unto him to treat a peace: so he was suffered to go safely with his men whither he would. Whereupon under the assurance of this peace, he retired with eight thousand men into PELOPONNESUS. The PHOCIANS then left without all hope, yielded themselves to Philip's discretion. Thus having ended this holy war without stroke stricken, beyond all men's opinion, he called a council of the BOEOTIANS and THESSALIANS: in the which it was determined that there should be an assembly of parliament of the Amphictyons, unto whom they would wholly refer themselves for deciding of this matter. Whereupon the Commissioners for the parliament of the Amphictyons were assembled, and there among other acts it was ordained, that from thenceforth it should be lawful for Philip and all of his race to sit in this council of the Amphictyons, and that they should have the two voices which the PHOCIANS (by him lately conquered) had before. Also, that he and his thenceforth should have the government and superintendancie of the sports PYTHIANS, with the BOEOTIANS and THESSALIANS. Because the CORINTHIANS had been partakers with the sacrilege of the PHOCIANS. The rest of their decrees concerned those of PHOCIDE, the safety of the temple of DELPHES, and the union of the GREEKS'. Philip having broken up the armouries of the PHOCIANS and of the strangers that had fought in their pay, he defaced their towns, and made them cell their horses. After he had received of the Amphictyons the greatest honour and thanks they could devise, he returned into his realm of MACEDON, having won him the name of a devout and valiant Prince, and laid the foundations of the greatness unto the which his son Alexander came afterwards. For he singularly desired to be chosen Captain general of all GRECE, with full power and authority to make war with the king of PERSIA, as he did. Furthermore, the hereditary quarrels he had against the SLAVONS, being as irreconcilable, he entered with his army into SLAVONIA, where having spoiled a great part of that country, and taken many towns, he returned back into MACEDON laden with booty. After that he went into THESSALY, and drove out the tyrants there, which held the towns in subjection. By this means he wan the hearts of the THESSALIANS, whom indeed he had great care to use well, hoping that if the THESSALIANS remained his faithful friends, he should easily gain the other GREEKS' to desire his friendship, and so it happened: for the people neighbours to THESSALY, did presently enter into league with him. Soon after that, he led his army into THRACIA to repress Cersobleptes, who troubled all the towns of HELLESPONT next adjoining to his realm. When he had beaten the THRACIANS in divers encounters, he compelled the vanquished to pay yearly unto the MACEDONIANS, the tenth part of their revenues, and fortifying a few good towns in the best parts of the country, he bridled the boldness of these barbarous people: whereupon the towns within those marches being delivered from wars, they very willingly entered into league and alliance with Philip.  
Thus waxing greater every day than other, he led his army before the city of PERINTH, because that stood against him, and took part with the ATHENIANS. So he laid siege unto it, and brought his engines of battery before it, among the which there were rams of 80. foot long, and built up towers of wood higher than the highest towers of stone that were within the town: upon the top whereof he marvelously annoyed the besieged: and battering the walls with these rams, he made them fall down in divers places. The PERINTHIANS on the other side very lustily defended themselves, and reared up other walls within, in place of them that were fallen down. He plied them continually with wonderful assaults, the assailants and assailed showing all their possible force and endeavour. Now Philip had great Crossbows and other engines of all sorts to kill far off, great arrows long and sharp at the end, which did wound those that came to the cranewes of the walls, and those that were besieged lost many of their men every day. But at the length, they were supplied with arms and men whom the BYZANTINES sent unto them: whereupon equalling their enemies, they began to be courageous again, and resolutely offered themselves unto any danger for defence of their country. For all this, the battery begun discontinued not, and Philip dividing his men into divers troops gave them many assaults, continued by turns one in the neck of another night and day. Which he might easily do, considering he had thirty thousand fight men in his camp, with an inestimable number of missile weapons, with engines to bestow great shot a far off, and of all sorts of engines to beat down towns, with the which he wonderfully plagued and hurt the besieged. Nevertheless, the siege drew on in length, and many of the towns men died, besides those that were hurt and wounded: and because that victuals also waxed scant amongst them: so that they hourly looked for no other thing, but to take PERINTH. But it fell out clean contrary: for the fame of Philip's greatness being blown abroad throughout all ASIA, the king of PERSIA being afraid of such a power, writ unto his Lieutenants upon the sea coasts, that they should aid the PERINTHIANS all they could possible. Thereupon his Satrapes having consulted of this matter together, sent unto the besieged a great supply of men of war, store of gold and silver, plenty of corn, of arms, and of all other necessary provisions for the wars. The BYZANTINES on the other side sent them the best experienced Captains and soldiers they had. By this means the two forces of the besiegers and the besieged being equal of new again, the war began to be hotter than before. For Philip beating at the walls without cease with his rams, made very great breaches, and with his engines to shoot far off, kept them that none durst stay at the cranewes of the walls: and at one instant made his men to give an assault at the breaches of the walls thrown down, and caused others to scale the walls that were yet standing whole, and so fight with their swords, many were slain in the place, and others sore wounded, both valiantly fight for the reward and honour of victory. The MACEDONIANS hoped to have the sack of a rich and wealthy city, and more than that, to have goodly presents of the king. They that were besieged on the other side, setting before them all the calamities and miseries of the taking of a city, did lustily endure any pains and danger to prevent so great a mischief. Besides that, the situation of the town was a great help unto them, not only to hope well, but also that in the end they should be masters. For the town of PERINTH stood all upon the sea side, upon a haven of half an Island that stood of a great height, and this haven was about half a quarter of a league long. The houses there were very narrow and high, and because they stood high upon the hanging of the coast, all the town being underneath it on the ground, they were built much higher than those that stood beneath: so to see them above, they showed like the degrees of seats in a Theatre. And although that they without did still beat down some part of the wall: that vantaged them nothing for all that. For those within did nothing else but mure up the entrance into the streets which were narrow, and they always defended themselves making rampers before the low houses, as if they had been the best walls in the world.  
So Philip having gotten the outward walls of thetowne, with all the troubles and dangers possible: he found other walls ready built stronger than the other, as if they had been done of purpose, besides that the BYZANTINES did always furnish them with any thing they wanted. Philip considering this, divided his army into two, and left the half of them to continued the siege, under the charge of the best captains he had: and taking with him the other half, he went to besiege BYZANCE itself, and gave it a most brave assault: whereat the BYZANTINES were amazed, because their soldiers, their arms, and all other their necessary provisions for war were in the city of PERINTH. But the ATHENIANS sent them immediately an army by sea to aid them, as also those did of CHIO, of RHODES, and out of other places. Chares went thither sent by the ATHENIANS, but he did nothing of worth, nor worthy of the fleet he brought thither: because he was suspected of his friends, and despised of his enemies. So that they sent Photion thither, who before that time had fought bravely with Philip in the I'll of EUBOEA, (which he thought to have won by means of traitors) had overcome the MACEDONIANS in battle, and had done many other notable exploits. Howbeit after his departure, Philip being the stronger, departing from thence came to besiege PERINTH, and after that BYZANCE, into the which Photion entered with his troops: who did so valiantly in all fights and assaults, that Philip (who before that time was thought so terrible in arms that none could resist him, neither durst any man present himself in battle against him) rose from besieging of PERINTH, and retired from BYZANCE and out of HELLESPONT, and did nothing but lost much of his reputation. For, besides the men that were killed at these two sieges, he lost some of his ships, and many strong holds, out of the which his garrisons were thrown, and his friends foraged by the ATHENIANS. This was the cause why he offered articles of peace, fearing the forces of the ATHENIANS, desirous to forward his affairs some other way, or rather to meddle no more with them. Photion counseled the ATHENIANS to harken unto it, and to accept the conditions unto the which Philip submitted himself. But the Counsellors (especially Demosthenes) that bore the sway at that time, moved the ATHENIANS to a new league, the which Demosthenes prepared against Philip: who bethinking himself, determined to employ all his means to subdue the cities all at once, to the end that he might afterwards pass further. So he levied an army with great speed, and having overcome certain troops of the towns in league together near unto AMPHISE, he marched into the country of ELATIA, and afterwards wan PHOCIDE, and being lift up with such prosperous beginnings, he resolved to go to ATHENS. Whereof the ATHENIANS having intelligence, they were strait in arms every where, the people being so amazed, that none durst be so bold as to speak, and they knew not what to do. They rejected the wise counsel of Photion, of which Demosthenes was the cause. Wherhfore to repair his fault, he stepped out and counseled the ATHENIANS to seek the friendship of the THEBANS. So thereupon they sent him to put it in practice, and happily he obtained it, notwithstanding all Philip's oppositions to the contrary: who being astonished more than before with these crosses, which the eloquence of one man did against him: he sent again to offer the GREEKS' peace. But they kept themselves close, and made strange of it, expecting the event of all this great tempest: not being disposed at that time to harken to pacification. But as if the time of their bondage had been at the gate, they refused all conditions, yea contemned the very oracles of DELPHES, and Demosthenes had it often in his mouth, that the Prophetess did Philippizate, to wit, favoured Philip's affairs. These oracles threatened both the one and the other, and especially the GREEKS'. Now Philip, though he saw he was deceived of the friendship of the BOEOTIANS, yet he resolved to fight with the one and the other. Therefore keeping his camp certain days, looking for the forces of his friends that were not yet come unto him: he entered into BOEOTIA, with thirty thousand footmen, and about two thousand horse. So both camps being ready to give charge upon each other, they both had like courage and resolution to do well. But as touching the number of men, and skilfulness of Captains, Philip did pass them far: for having done in many places so many worthy exploits of arms, he was become very expert in military discipline. To the contrary, on the ATHENIANS side, their best captains, as Iphicrates Chabrias, and Timotheus, were dead. Photion also, he never thought well of this war: and the factious, they had hindered the best they could that he should have no charge. Than was there but Chares and Lysicles, that were too weak to take such a great charge upon them, and were much inferior to many of the Captains Philip had then with him.  
The day being broken, and both armies set in battle the one against the other in the plain of CHAERONEA: Philip placed his son Alexander, coming but newly out of his infancy, in one of the points of his army, attended upon by the best captains he had: and he placed himself in the other point, with the valiantest men in his army, giving order and direction in all things according to time and place. The ATHENIANS, having taken one of the points of their battle, left the other unto the BOEOTIANS. So the fight began very sharply, & many were slain on both sides, and it could not be discerned yet whether side had best occasion to hope of victory: until that Alexander at the length, desirous to make his father see some proof of his valour, and many other valiant men seeing the courage of this young Prince following him, they with him broke into the battle of the enemies, and there was a marvelous cruel slaughter. Philip on his side also giving charge upon the greatest press and multitude of his enemies, not enduring that any should take the honour from him, not not his own son: set upon them so fiercely that withstood him, that he put them out of order, and made them fly for life. There died in this battle above a thousand ATHNIANS, and there were taken prisoners to the number of two thousand. And of the BOEOTIANS in like manner there were many killed in the field, and a great number taken. After this battle, Philip caused a token of triumph to be set up, and suffered the enemies to take away the bodies of their dead, and to bury them. He made sumptuous sacrifices unto his gods, to give them thanks for his victory: and honoured them that had done good service in this battle, every one according to his degree and desert. Howbeit he committed certain insolences: for after he had drunk well with his friends, he went to the place where he dead bodies lay, and there he fell a singing in mockery, the beginning of the decree which Demosthenes had propounded, whose counsel they following, the ATHENIANS concluded to war against him, lifting up his voice, and keeping measure with his foot, Demosthenes, the son of Demosthenes PAEANIAN set out this. But afterwards when he began a little to come to himself again out of his drunkenness, and that he had thought a little of the danger he had been in: then his hair began to stand upright on his head, when he entered into the consideration of the force and vehemency of such an Orator, that had brought him in a piece of a day, to put his whole estate and his life to the hazard of a battle. And when the ATHENIANS sent unto him to treat of peace, he presently set his countenance, rubbed his eyebrows, and laying aside all madness and wantonness, made them a very sober and advised answer. Others say, that he drank too much at the feast of his sacrifice, and that after supper he danced and made a mommery with his minions: passed by the prisoners, and gave them sharp taunts in mockery, touching the misfortune of their overthrow: and that Demades then being one of the number, was so bold frankly to speak a word to him which was of such efficacy, as it made him refrain from his insolency. OH king, said he, being now thy fortune to play Agamemnon's part, thou art not ashamed to show the deeds of Thersites. Philip finding himself touched to the quick with this word so well set, he presently changed his apparel and countenance, cast down to the ground his garland of flowers he wore on his head, caused all the other signs of mockery which were carried after him to be broken, and from thenceforth began greatly to esteem of Demades, and would have him about him. Demades, being passing eloquent above others of his time, did so well entertain Philip, that he caused him to deliver all the other prisoners of the ATHENIANS, without paying of any ransom. And further yet, humbling the conquerors fierceness, he made peace with the ATHENIANS, but put a garrison within THEBES, and moreover granted peace unto the BOEOTIANS.  
But that which principally brought him to incline unto it, was the desire he had to be chosen Captain general of GRECE. And to this end he caused them to give out abroad, that he would undertake to make war for the GREEKS' against the PERSIANS', and to be revenged of them for the outrages and sacrileges which they had committed against the temples of the gods in GRECE: and sought to gain the good will and friendship of all the GREEKS' by all kind of courtesies he could possibly devise or think of, as well openly as secretly. So he made a motive, that he desired to speak with the towns openly, and to communicate somethings unto them which concerned the good of all their common wealth in general. And for this purpose there was appointed a general assembly of the states in GRECE in the city of CORINTH, in the which he propounded this, to undertake the war against the PERSIANS', and putting them in great hope of happy success, he persuaded the commissioners of every town, which were present in this assembly of counsel, boldly to conclude this enterprise. He solicited this matter in such sort, that the GREEKS' with general consent chose him their Captain general with sovereign authority. Than he began to make great preparation for this war, and having made a description and sesse of all the contributions, as also the number of men of war which every city should furnish for this enterprise: he returned into MACEDON, and sent from thence two of his chief Captains before into ASIA, Attalus and Parmenio, with a part of his army, commanding them to deliver the GREEKS' cities of ASIA out of bondage. But his death broke the voyage, so that they went not very far. Now hitherto we have seen Philip's natural disposition in the midst of his deeds, and what is commendable and reproachful in so great a Prince. But before we go further in the rest of his life, it may peradventure not be much impertinent, to insert in this place, some of his sentences and memorable actions, whereby he may be the better discerned, to compare him afterwards with the others. For men's words and fashions amongst their familiars, be the very lively tables of the affections and passions of the soul: being unpossible for any man always to sergeant so, but that they may oftentimes see his heart at his tongue's end.  
So then, news being brought him in one self day of three great prosperities: the first, that he had won the prize at the courses of coaches with four horse in the solemnity of the Olympian games: The second, that his Lieutenant Parmenio had overcome the DARDANIANS in battle: The third, that his wife olympiad had brought him a goodly son: he lift up his hands to heaven, and said: OH fortune, I beseech thee sand me in exchange of this, some reasonable adversitic, against such and so great happiness. Lasthenes an OLYNTHIAN, that for a great sum of money had sold him the town of OLYNTH, complained to him one day that some of his minions called him traitor. He answered him again, that the MACEDONIANS were rude plain men, that called all things by their name. He seemed to repute the ATHENIANS happy men, for that they found yearly ten Captains in their town to be chosen: and that he to the contrary in many years could found but one, and that was Parmenio. After he had overcome the GREEKS', many advised him to put good and great garrisons in the towns, that they might with more safety be kept under. But he answered them, I had rather be called a long time courteous, than a short time Lord And when his familiars gave him counsel, to banish a malicious person, that did nothing but speak evil: he answered them he would not, fearing lest he should every where else speak evil of him. There was an ACHAEAN called Arcadion, that made profession to speak evil of him every where, and warned every man to fly so far from Philip, as none could tell there what man he was. Arcadion being by chance met in MACEDON, the courtiers would have had Philip to have punished him, and not to let him escape out of his hands. Philip to the contrary spoke him fair, and sent him presents to his lodging. Shortly after, he commanded they should make inquiry what talk Arcadion had of him among the GREEKS'. Every man brought him word, that he did wonderfully commend and praise him wheresoever he came. Than said Philip unto them, I am a better physician for evil speech than you are. Another time in the assembly of the Olympian games, as the GREEKS' spoke evil of him, his friends said, that such ill speakers would be sevearely punished, to speak so much evil of him that had done them so much good. Nay, but what would they do then, answered he, if we did hurt them? Smicythus did often accuse Nicanor unto him, telling him that he did nothing else but speak evil of Philip: so that his best familiars thought it good he should be sent for, and be punished according to his deserts. Yea but (replied he) Nicanor is one of the honestest men of MACEDON: were it not better therefore to inquire whether the fault be in us, or not? And forthwith having made diligent search whence this discontentment of Nicanor came, he found that he was a man oppressed with extreme poverty, and that no man would relieve him in his necessity: whereupon he sent him immediately a good present. Afterwards Smicythus brought word, that Nicanor every where spoke great praises of Philip. See then, said he, how it dependeth upon ourselves to be well spoken of. He was wont also to say, that he was much beholding unto the connsellors of ATHENS, for that they speaking evil of him, were cause to make him an honest man of word and deed. For, said he, I do daily enforce myself both in my deeds and words to make them liars. He sent home (as hath been spoken before) all the ATHENIANS prisoners at the battle of CHAERONEA, without paying any ransom, and yet moreover they asked for their beds, their apparel, and all their baggage, and complained of the MACEDONIANS, because they did not deliver it unto them. When Philip heard of this, he fell a laughing, and said to them that were near about him: How say you, do not you think these ATHENIANS suppose they were overcome by us at the play at bones? He said also that they which gave him counsel to deal sharply with the ATHENIANS, were men of an ill judgement, to counsel a Prince that did and suffered all things for glory, to destroy the Theatre of glory, which was the city of ATHENS, by reason of learning. There was a great number of prisoners taken at a battle, and he was present to see them sold by the drum, sitting in his chair, his gown being turned up a little higher than was decent. Than there was one of the prisoners that was a selling, that cried out a loud unto him, I beseech thee, o king, to pardon me that I be not sold: for I am thy friend from father to the son. Philip asked him, how and from whence this friendship should come between us? I will tell thee in thy ear, answered the prisoner. Philip commanded they should bring him to him. Than the prisoner coming near to him, told him softly: OH king, let thy gown fall down before a little: for as thou sittest, thou showest that that is unfit to be seen. Than spoke Philip aloud to his men, Deliver him, and let him go: for he is indeed one of my friends and well-willers, but I had forgotten it. Such was his behaviour to his enemies, and those that spoke evil of him.  
Let us now speak somewhat of his justice, and of diverse other affections worthy to be noted in him: the which do appear something in his words, and by the effects that followed. And they do show more & more that this prince had learned very much with Epaminondas, but above all, to be nobly minded, patiented, and desirous of honour without shame: qualities that had been much more excellent in him, if he had not made such merchandise with wicked men, as he did that sold their country, besides that they saw in him an ardent ambition: as also in that he coveted to be Captain general of all the GREEKS', and the triumphs preceding his death, and all his life do show. And to this purpose, he counseled his son Alexander to speak graciously unto the MACEDONIANS, to win their good wills, whilst he had leisure now to be courteous unto them, another reigning in the kingdom: as if he would have said, that when he came to be king, he should carry the gravity of a master and of a Lord, and that he should do justice. He gave him counsel also to seek to get the love of those that bore credit and authority in good towns, as well of the wicked as of the good, that he might afterwards use the good, and abuse the evil. But now to return to his justice again: Being a judge between two bad men, he ordained that the one should fly out of MACEDON, and the other should run after him. It is reported of him, that he had gotten together a number of the wickedest and most disorderedst men that were in his time, whom he lodged all together in a town which he had caused to be built, and called it PONEROPOLIS, the town of knaves. He had on a time bestowed the office of a judge upon one recommended unto him by Antipater: but understanding afterwards that he used to paint his hairs and beard, he took it from him, saying, that he that used deceit in his hair, would hardly deal truly in a good cause. Machetas pleaded a cause on a time before him whilst he slept, so that not conceiving nor understanding well the matter, he wrongfully condemned him. Whereupon Machetas began to cry out, that he did appeal. Philip being angered at that word, asked him presently unto whom he did appeal from him? Before thyself, o king answered he, when thou art awake, and wilt give good ear to conceive of my fact. These words touched Philip to the quick, whereupon he rose up on his feet, and calling himself better to mind, knew that he had wronged Machetas in his sentence, and yet nevertheless he would not revoke his judgement: howbeit he himself with his own money discharged the matter, whereupon the suit was brought before him. Harpalus had a kinsman and friend of his called Crates, attainted and convicted of great crimes. He besought Philip that paying the fine, sentence should not be pronounced against this Crates, that he might avoid the shame and disgrace. But Philip answered him again, It is better he should bear his own blame and discredit, than I for him. A soldier of his, a valiant man of his hands, having by false report obtained of him the gift and forfeiture of the goods of a MACEDONIAN: it fortuned that the MACEDONIAN ill willing to put up such an outrage, bewrayed unto Philip the unthankfulness of the soldier whose life he had saved. Philip was so offended with the villainy of this soldier, that after he had revoked his gift, he made him quail in such sort, that his wickedness was known of every one, and the MACEDONIAN restored again to all his goods. A poor old woman being in suit of law, besought him to give judgement, and pressed him continually: but he excused himself, and told her he was not at leisure to hear it. The old woman cried out aloud: Leave then to be king. He being astonished and lively pricked with this word, did hear her, and all others in order. As for his friends, Philo a Gentleman of THEBES had done him many pleasures at the time when he remained in hostage in the city of THEBES: for he was lodged in his house, and after that he would never receive any gifts or presents of him. Whereupon Philip said unto him: Take not from me the title and honour of invincible, being overcome by thee of courtesy and liberality. Word being brought him of the death of Hipparchus, borne in the I'll of EUBOEA, he was very sorry: and as one that stood by told him, he was ripe, and ready to dye forage: Yea, said he again, for himself, but not for me, to whom he is dead too soon: for he is dead before he received any recompense of me, worthy the friendship he bore me. As touching household matters, he fell out on a time with his wife Olympias, and his son Alexander: in which time of his anger, Demaratus a Gentleman of CORINTH went to visit him. Philip then asked him, how, and after what manner the GREEKS' lived one with another. Truly, answered Demaratus, thou carest much for the peace and union of the GREEKS', since the persons that touch thee so nearly, and those whom thou oughtest to make most account of, are so separated from thee. This word made him consider so well of it, that afterwards he appeased his anger: the cause thereof is showed in the beginning of Alexander's life, and so reconciled himself unto them. Being told him that his son Alexander misliked it, and complained that he begot bastards of other women: he told him, Since thou seest now that thou shalt have many competitors with thee for the kingdom after my death: endeavour thyself to be an honest man, that thou mayest come to the crown not so much through me, being mine heir, as through thyself, for that thou art worthy. He persuaded him much, diligently to study Philosophy under Aristotle, to the end, said he, thou do not many things that I have done, whereof now I heartily repent me. Being on a time fallen backward, lying all alongst the place where they exercise wrestling: and wallowing up and down, as if he had seen the figure and print of his body in the dust: OH Hercules, said he, how little quantity of ground will serve us by nature, and yet we covet to inhabit all the world. He would on a time lodge his camp in a fair ground: but being told that there was no forage for the beasts, he was constrained to dislodge from thence, saying, What is our life, since we must take care even to place Asses? There was an host of his that on a time bade him to supper with him. So, as he was going, he met diverse by the way, whom he carried thither with him. Whereupon perceiving his host was much troubled, because he had not meat enough to feed so many mouths: Philip seeing it, sent secretly to tell every one in their ears whom he brought with him, that they should keep a place in their stomach for the tart. The other believing that he spoke in earnest, did forbear to eat, whereby there was meat enough for them all. That which is already said, is sufficient to make us know the natural disposition of this great Prince: whose end we are now about to describe unto you. He undertaking to pass into ASIA, to make war with the PERSIANS', in the state of Captain general of the GREEKS': being desirous his voyage should be favoured of the gods he asked of the prophetess of DELPHES, whether he should overcome the king of PERSIA? She answered him: 
The ox is crowned when his end is near at hand,  
To offer him in sacrifice, a man doth ready stand.  This oracle being doubtful and obscure, Philip took it for his advantage: as if Apollo had told him, that the king of PERSIA should be slain by him, as an oblation of sacrifice. But clean contrary, the oracle threatened him with death in a day of a solemn feast: and that he should be slain as a bull, whom they crown with garlands and hats of flowers, when they go about to sacrifice him. Notwithstanding supposing that the gods did favour his enterprise, he was very pleasant, persuading himself that ASIA should shortly be tributary to MACEDON. So he prepared sumptuous and magnificent sacrifices in honour of the gods, and made preparation for the marriage of his daughter Cleopatra. Now he being desirous to draw to this feast as many GREEKS' as he could possible, to that end made proclamation every where, that there should be games of prize for learning, and music, and sent to summon all his hosts and friends, in what part of GRECE soever they were, to come to this marriage: and commanded the Lords of his Court that they should do the like for their part. For he desired to show the GREEKS all signs of friendship, and to make them the best cheer that could be possible, in recompense of the honour they had done him, to choose him their Captain general. There was a wonderful assembly of people from all parts at this feast, and the marriage was solemnized betwixt Alexander king of EPIRUS and Cleopatra, and the games also at AEGES acitie of MACEDON. Where not only Philip's private friends, and the most notable men of the GREEKS', but also the principal and chiefest towns of GRECE (and among others ATHENS) gave him presents of many rich crowns of gold. The decree of the people presenting a crown of gold, and openly proclaimed by a herald, the effect of it was: that if it happened any man having conspired or attempted aught against the person of king Ppilip, should fly to ATHENS in hope of privilege there: that he should be delivered into the hands of the king. In the midst of this great feast at the marriage, there was an excellent player of tragedies, called Neoptolemus, that rehearsed verses touching the enterprise of Philip: and as if he had meant to have reproved the pride of the king of PERSIA, he lively touched that of his master Philip, and before he was ware, foretold his death in covert terms, and which might be applied (as also Philip did, blinded and astonished with his prosperity) unto the estate, and unto the king of PERSIA. Among other verses the beginning of it was very near to this effect:  

Above the skies exalt thy pride,  
Surmount all haughtiness that is  
Within this earthly vale so wide:  
Promise' thyself a worldly bliss,  
And prosperous life for ever sure,  
Yet canst thou now no longer dure.  
For some already have begun  
Thy ruin, which thou canst not shun.  
And death near to that breast of thine  
Shall shortly break off thy design.   
The day after this royal marriage the games began to be played, and the people ran from all parts to the Theatre to see them, even until it was dark night. And in the morning at the break of day there was a procession, in the which among many other sumptuous and magnificent shows, they carried the images of twelve principal gods of GRECE, wonderful cunningly wrought with great art: and then after them was borne the image of Philip for the thirteenth, as if he would have placed himself in rank with his gods. When the Theatre was full set with people, Philip himself came in the end, appareled all in white, having commanded all his guard to follow him a far off: desirous to show the GREEKS', that because of the great confidence he had of their faithful friendship, he thought he needed no guard for his body. But at that time he was put to death after a strange sort: and that we may know by what occasion, we will take the matter further off.  
There was in his court a MADEDONIAN gentleman, called Pausanias, borne in the country of ORESTIDE, one of the gentlemen pensioners of Philip's guard, that sometime was beloved for his beauty. He perceiving that the king loved another, whose name was as himself, Pausanias: began to gall him with injurious words, calling him Androgyne (as much to say, as womanish man) and reproved him that he abandoned his body to any that would. This second Pausanias, very impatiently bore these words in his heart, yet made no reply to them, but only imparted unto his friend called Attalus what he meant to do, and within few days after lost his life after a notable manner. Philip fought a battle with the SLAVONS, in the which this young man behaved himself very valiantly, right before the person of Philip, and received upon his body all the blows they struck at him, so that he died in the field. This valiantness of his being blown abroad through the army, Attalus, that then was in great favour with the king, entreated the first Pausanias to come and sup with him, and having made him drunk, he left his body to all the horse-keepers and moyletters to be carnally abused. His drunkenness having left him, he was so grieved at his heart for the outrage Attalus had done him, that he went and complained to the king himself. Philip was marvelously offended withal, because of the villainy that was offered him. But because of the love he bore to Attalus, and also for that he stood in need of his service, and for that he was uncle of Cleopatra, the last and well beloved wife of Philip, and appointed his Lieutenant for the war of ASIA, he made as though he knew it not. But to appease Pausanias, he gave him great presents, and placed him amongst the number of them of the guard about his person. Pausanias' having made his complaint to Olympias, unto Alexander, and to some other, had sundry answers, but no justice at that time. Wherhfore keeping this despite in his heart, he resolved not only to be revenged of him which had done him this injury, but also of Philip that would do him no justice. But to further him in this devilish purpose, amongst others a rhetorician called Hermecrates did set him on, whom Pausanias frequented to learn of him. Discoursing one day together, he asked him how a man might in a short time make himself famous, to be spoken of of every body? Hermocrates answered, in kill one that had done many great things. For, said he, it is of necessity that remembering his facts, the name of him that killed him must also be comprised. Pausanias' applying that to the purpose of his anger, having no patience to prolong time, his heart being so full of choler and grief: determined with himself to execute his enterprise the same day the plays should be: the which he did, as followeth. He laid horses ready at the gate of the Theatre, and went about it, having a sword under his down after the fashion of the GAULES as they wear it. When the time was come that Philip would himself go to the Theatre, all the Noblemen and Gentlemen that attended upon him, went into the Theatre before him, who had commanded all the Gentlemen of his guard to come a good way behind him. Than Pausanias seeing Philip going all alone, ran to him, and gave him such a blow with his sword overthwart his flanks, that he ran him through and through, so that he fell down stark dead. The blow being given, he ran away strait unto his horse, and some of the guard ran to Philip, others swiftly followed the murderer, among which was Leonidas, Perdiccas, and Attalus. Howbeit Pausanias that had gotten the start before, had easily mounted on horseback before the others could have come near him to overtake him, had it not been that in the way as he fled, he stumbled at the root of a vine, which overthrew him. Than Perdiccas and the rest lighted on him as he rose, and thrusting at him, killed him in the place. Behold how Philip, that was the greatest king in his time of EUROPE, and for the greatness of his power, placed himself among the gods: was brought low even to rank with the weakest of the world, and died being but six and forty years old, having reigned 24 years. That therefore whereof he gloried most, was in his skill of wars, and in the actions which he managed bravely: preferring that far above all his exploits of war. For, said he, in victory all that fight in the battle have their part: but in those things that I have achieved unto, having wisely directed them, none is partaker of the honour but myself only. He had five wives, the first was Olympias the daughter of Neoptolemus, king of the MOLOSSIANS, of the line of Aeacus, of whom were borne, Alexander surnamed the Great, and Cleopatra. Alexander succeeded his father: and for Cleopatra, she was married to her uncle Alexander, king of EPIRUS, and brother of Olympias. The second wife of Philip was Audate, a Lady of SLAVONIA, of whom he had a daughter called Cyne, married unto Amyntas his cousin germane: who being slain, she was betrothed unto Lagarus, king of the AGRIANIANS, who died before consummation of marriage. After the death of Alexander the Great, she being of a manly courage, and opposing herself against those that would deprive the children of Alexander of the crown of MADEDON: was slain by Perdiccas' commandment. The third was Phila: and the fourth was called Mede, the daughter of the king of THRACIA. These two had neither of them any children. And lastly being too old to marry, he married Cleopatra, the daughter of Hippostratus and Attalus niece: at the marriage of whom he would have killed his son Alexander, for throwing a cup at Attalus head: after the which followed great trouble, and foul stir betwixt Philip, Olympias, and Alexander: but Demaratus the CORINTHIAN salved all that again. Of this last wife, he first had a daughter called Europe, and then a son called Caranus, whom Olympias put to a cruel death. For his concubines, the one called Arsinoe, being gotten with child by Philip, she fell into Lagus hands, unto whom she gave Ptolemy afterwards king of EGYPT. The second was a girl of LARYSSENE, called Philinna, of whom he begat Aridaeus: who first of all was poisoned, and in the end cruelly murdered by Olympias: being the last king of the race of Temenides in MACEDON. For the issue of Alexander, they were rejected by Cassander. The third was Nicasipolis, a woman of THESSALY, and jasons sister, tyrant of PHERES: of whom he had a daughter called Thessalonica, whom Cassander married, and was afterwards slain by Antipater. The end of Alexander, of his mother, and of his children and successors, was lamentable in diverse sorts. And thus we see in Philip and in his race, how many ways the high judge of the world hath in his power and hand to overthrow the greatest, when they are drunk with their prosperity.  
The end of Philip of Macedons life.   

THE LIFE OF Dionysius.  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  

Base Tyranny is wrongs unhappy mother,  
Witness this wretch, in show both grave and wise:  
Yet he himself beguiling, and each other,  
show'd that his heart was fierce, and full of vice.   
IN the second year of the second Olympiad, Archias a CORINTHIAN, not daring to return again into his city for a foul fact committed by him in the person of an honest youth called Acteon: he took the sea, and sailed into SICILIA with certain CORINTHIANS and DORIANS, and there built the city of SYRACUSE, the which by process of time become so great, that it had within it as it were four towns, of the which the one was called the Isle, the second Acradine, the third Tychè, and the last Neapolis: the one near unto the other, with a fort called Hexapyle, which commanded all the other, and it was in the top of a high place which they called Epipoles, as much to say, as over all the other towns. It was governed at the first, by the command and power of Archias only: but he being killed by Telephus, whom he had abused in his infancy, the SYRACUSANS gathered together of diverse parts, brought their estate to Aristocratia, which flourished for a time. But being come to pass that Tyndaris one of the Lords of the town carried himself after such a manner, that he made many jealous that his driftand policy was to make himself chief Lord: the other Lords made a law called Petalisme, to meet with this practice: howbeit it was that that increased his enterprise. 
Petalisme banishment for five years.  The effect of this law was, that the name of him that aspired to make himself absolute Lord of the city, should be written in an olive leaf, the which being put into the hand of this Lord, without further ceremony it was to tell him that he was banished the city for five years, much after the fashion that is reported of the Ostracism of the ATHENIANS. By means of this Petalisme, the Lords banished one another, so that in the end, the people become Lord But hereupon a dangerous sedition happening amongst them, Gelo, Lord of the city of GELE, did so wisely look into the troubles of the SYRACUSANS: that they chose him king in the second year of the three score and twelfth olympiad. After him succeeded Hieron, who at the beginning carried himself very evil: but afterwards falling into acquaintance with the Poets Simonides, Pindarus, and Bacchylides, which taught him many good things, he reigned very prudently. So, he having reigned about twelve years, left his brother Thrasybulus his successor: who for his cruelties and insolences was driven out of SYRACUSE by force, and went to LOCRES, and there ended the rest of his days. Than the SYRACUSANS established the government of Lords, which continued sixty years: in which time they make war with the AGRIGENTINES, and compelled them to sue for peace: they destroy the TRINACRIANS and their town: they set upon the LEONTINES, which are aided by the ATHENIANS under the conduct of Laches and Carceadas, who behaved themselves so evil, that at their return home they were banished. Shortly after the new troubles betwixt the SYRACUSANS and the LEONTINES, the ATHENIANS sent Phaax into SICILIA to kindle the fire a little, and to mutiny the one against the other. Howbeit it had no good success, but rather raised a cruel war betwixt the SYRACUSANS and ATHENIANS, in the which at the last Nicias and Demosthenes were overcome by sea and land both, and afterwards put to death, and the soldiers of ATHENS that were prisoners most cruelly used. The SYRACUSANS lift up with this victory, did put down their Lordly government, and brought it to a popular state again. Than thinking to be revenged of the CARTHAGINIANS that were come to the aid of the SEGESTANS' against the SELINONTINES, which were their friends: they sent Diocles with four thousand good men against Hannibal the son of Gisco, who lay in camp at that time before HIMERA, the which he won after he had overcome Diocles, and slain the most part of his troops. The SYRACUSANS casting their anger for this loss upon Hermocrates one of their chiefest citizens, they banished him with the Petalisme, and drove him out of the town. He helping himself with the means he had in his hand, made up and armed five galleys, and afterwards with certain banished men of HIMERA, attempted to put in again into SURACUSA. But seeing he could not prevail, he landed and possessed the ruined town of SELINONTE, he repaired it, called home again all the inhabitants dispersed through SICILIA, fortified himself there, and in few days got together a troop of six thousand men. With these forces he set upon them of PALERME, and of MOTYE, in league with the CARTHAGINIANS, overcame them in a pitched field, maintained his friends, and followed his victory. The SYRACUSANS hearing good report of Hermocrates valour, began to repent them that they had so dishonourably used him. He on the other side being advertised by his friends of the good affection of the citizens unto him: to win their good favour again, he was very careful to gather together the bones of those that were killed by HYMERA under the leading of Diocles, and sent them to SYRACUSE, in carts very richly set out. For all this they sent not for him home, the SYRACUSANS being afraid of him, for that he was a man of such courage and wisdom, jest he should make himself Lord of the town. He seeing himself thus refused, went back to SELINONTE, and shortly after being solicited by his friends, he found means by night to come into SYRACUSE, and possessed the Acradine. The SYRACUSANS took arms immediately, fought with Hermocrates, killed him in the great market place with part of his train, and banished those that favoured him. His friends saved some of them from the violence of the citizens, and amongst others Dionysius the son of Hermocrates, a plain citizen of SYSACUSA, whose life we presently writ of.  
Now it is reported, that his mother being with child of him, dreamt that she was brought to bed of a Satire, and that the Soothsayerss being asked their opinion, answered, she should have a son that should be famous above all the GREEKS. Furthermore, a young gentlewoman of SYRACUSE called Himera, some time before Dionysius made himself Lord of the city, dreamt that she was taken up to heaven, by a guide that having carried her too and fro, in the end brought her before jupiter, at whose feet she saw a young man with a yellow hair, bound with iron chains: and ask her guide what he was: It is, said the other, the cruel scourge of SICILIA and ITALY, the which shall spoil a great country, assoon as his bolts be off his feet. Within few years after, Dionysius having already seized upon the estate, as he came to make his entry into SYRACUSE, and that the citizens went out to meet him to do him honour: Himera being there by chance, knew him, and strait cried out: This was the young man that she sawin heaven. This being reported to Dionysius, he caused them to kill this young damosel. Another time his horse falling in the mire that he could not get out, Dionysius left him fast there: but the poor beast with struggling got himself out, and ran after his master: bringing in his main a swarm of bees. This did hearten him, especially through the counsel of his soothsayerss, to follow his purpose to subdue his country: the which he obtained by this means. The CARTHAGINIANS desirous to make themselves great in SICILIA, sent thither their Captain Himilco with a great army: against whom the SYRACUSANS made head, wan a battle, and killed six thousand of his men. Notwithstanding this, he went and besieged AGRIGENTE, and having upon surprise overthrown the army of the SYRACUSANS by sea, he enforced them that were besieged to save themselves as they could, entered into this great rich city abandoned, and took the spoil of it. The AGRIGENTINES that escaped gave the alarm through all SICILIA, & retiring themselves to SYRACUSE their friend town, began in full assembly of the city to accuse the Captains of SYRACUSE, saying, that by their treason the country was sold unto their enemies. Dionysius, the son of Hermocrates, a young man of a stout heart, and that did embrace great matters in his mind, being in this assembly, took hold of the occasion offered: and seeing the people out of countenance, he stepped forth, charged the Captains very much, & gave counsel that they should do justice: whereupon the magistrates did set a fine on their heads. And having found Philistus inclined that way, and gotten money of him (who was very rich) to pay this fine, with promise to furnish others if they were condemned: he followed his purpose in other assemblies, having speech at will, & a comely manner withal, so that almost for little or nothing, he won the hearts of the people, who moved by his orations, did casseere the old Captains, and chose new, & among others Dionysius, who was a good soldier, & had made proof of his valiantness in diverse encounters against the CARTHAGINIANS. But after they had chosen him Captain, he never came to counsel with his other companions, nor would not be acquainted with them: but under hand, made a foul report run abroad that they practised with the enemies. This made men of good judgement to presume that he himself went about to make some alteration: and they could not forbear to blame him for it. Nevertheless the people not looking so inwardly into it, they esteemed him very much. hereupon many assemblies were made to think of their affairs in wars, in one of the which Dionysius perceiving the SYRACUSANS astonished, gave advice that they should call home their banished men, saying: that it was a great mockery to run into GRECE and ITALY for aid, since they had hard at their doors such as had been citizens, who had rather die like vagabonds, then serve the enemy. And that the favour they should show them, would spur them forward to do their country good service. The wisest men durst not gainsay this advice, perceiving that the people did incline unto it: that if they hindered that, it was to get as many enemies as there were banished: and that they being called home, should thank none but Dionysius, at whose commandment they would ever be afterwards. No man speaking a word, the decree of repeal was authorized by the people, and the banished men returned to SYRACUSE. In the midst of all this business, letters were brought from GELE, which demanded aid. Dionysius offered himself strait, & was sent thither with 2000 footmen, and 400 horse. Being arrived at GELE, & finding the city in trouble, he took the people's part, accused the principals, made them be put to death, & their goods forfeited. With which forfeiture he paid the ordinary garrison of GELE, and promised double pay to them that followed him from SYRACUSE: unto the which he returned immediately, having the favour of his soldiers. So all the people ran about him in multitudes, ask him where the enemies were, and what they did? You do not consider, said he, that your enemies indeed are in your town. They that govern in your estate are more to be feared, than the CARTHAGINIANS: for whilst you are busy about your plays and feasts, they divide the common treasure among themselves, and pay not the soldiers. In the mean space Himilco prepareth himself to come & besiege you, whereof your governors make no reckoning, neither do they give any order for it. I knew this well enough before, but now I am most assured of it: for Himilco sent a trumpet unto me, under colour of certain prisoners, and secretly bade him tell me, that he would give me more than any other of my companions, so that I would not search him too narrowly: and if so be that I would not help him, at the lest yet that I would not hinder him. And therefore think with yourselves to found another captain in my place, for it is no reason whilst others cell the town to the enemies, that I should go hazard myself with my fellow citizens, & in danger in the end that they should think of me I should be partaker with the wicked practices of others. Those that heard what he spoke, being marvelously offended, carried these words immediately all about the town. But for the present time every one went home to their house, sad, and troubled in their minds. The morrow after, as those that should speak before the people did draw by lot of letters, that they might know in order how they should speak, and that the letter F. came to his lot: some slander by told him, this F. signifieth 
* A jester or s●●●●d Foole.  Fool, Dionysius, because thou wilt tell us great follies. Not, replied he quickly: that I shall be a Monarch. Presently the people being assembled, and his turn being come to speak, he accused his other companions with great vehemency, was heard very attentively, and with great praise of all the people, whom the day before he had angered very much: so that in the end there was some of the assembly cried out, that necessity required that Dionysius should be chosen alone Captain general, with all authority and sovereign power, and that it was no tarrying till the enemies be under our walls, and that he was a fit man to take care of this business: and as for the traitors, that they should think of them at better leisure. Hereupon the people chose Dionysius their Captain general, giving him full authority, and power of the affairs of the commonwealth, and praying him to consider of all that should be expedient to resist the enemies.  
He seeing his enterprise so well grounded, propoundeth a decree to the people, that the soldiers pay should be doubled over that it was before: for that would make them more courageous and willing to do good service. And as for money, that the SYRACUSANS should take no thought for that, for he knew a way how to come by it well enough. This so sudden advancement, and his bold promises joined with the disposition of this young man, made many suspect him that had any understanding and judgement: in so much that some began to go and come to houses to confer together to found means betimes to withstand the tyranny, which had now (as they say) put the irons in the fire. But Dionysius having an eye abroad, and a number of spies that slily fell into companies, being afraid they would do him some hurt, determined to provide for it by a far fetch to sight, but very fit to serve his turn: which was, to obtain licence to choose a guard for his person, unto the which he came, as followeth. He proclaimed in the town that those that were able to bear arms should follow him, and to make their rendezvous with their arms at a day set down at the town of the LEONTINES, and bring victuals with them for one month. There was then in that town a garrison of the SYRACUSANS: the banished, & all sorts of men withdrew themselves, whom Dionysius hoped would have taken his part, for that they were men which desired nothing more than change and alteration, and persuaded himself that few of the SYRACUSANS would follow him. Hereupon he went himself into the field, and being encamped near the town, one caused his friends to give the alarm, and to cry help, as if the enemies had environed him to kill him in his tent: and making as though he had been marvelously afraid, he fled, and saved himself by swiftness within the castle of the town, where he passed all the rest of the night, made fires all about, and sent for his soldiers in whom he put most trust, as a man that is afraid, seeing his enemies lie in wait for him. The next morning some of the people of SYRACUSE being gathered together in this town of the LEONTINES, in open assembly he made a long discourse of that that had passed, to make them believe that his evil willers would have surprised him, and could speak so well, that the people appointed him six hundred soldiers to guard his person, such as he himself would choose out. Immediately he chose young men to the number of a thousand which had nothing to lose, hardy and desperate to put any thing in execution that they were commanded. These he furnished with all things necessary, and made them great promises: so that he wan their hearts, and got unto him the soldiers strangers that were in the SYRACUSANS pay. Howbeit he changed the Captains from their companies, and put in their places some other made to his hand. And afterwards he sent Dexipus, a wise and valiant Captain LACEDAEMONIAN, back again into his country, of whom he stood in fear, and perceived he would be a bar in his way to hinder that he went about. Over and above that he sent for the soldiers of the garrison of GELE, and gathered together all them that were banished, all thieves and rogues that would come and serve him, judging them to be fit men to serve the turn he purposed. When he had gotten a great troop of such rakehells, he strait returned to SYRACUSE, and lodged his forces in the Arsenal, and then showed himself openly Lord, and tyrant, without any longer dissimulation. This amazed and grieved the SYRACUSANS most extremely: nevertheless they were enforced to bear this yoke which they could not help, because the town was full of soldiers strangers, and for that also they were afraid of the CARTHAGINIANS that were near unto them with a mighty army. All this happened, Dionysius being but five and twenty years old, in the third year of the ninety three olympiad, and in the three hundredth seven and fortieth year of the foundation of ROME. Thus you see how this young man of a base condition, meanly borne, made himself Lord of one of the greatest commonwealths in the world at that time, and continued this usurpation all the days of his life, which was the space of 38 years.  
This being done, he made them all rich and wealth that aided him in this enterprise, drove out all those he could found that withstood these his attempts, put to death before all the people Daphneus, and Demarchus, two of the chiefest men, and of greatest power that were at that time in SYRACUSE, and that had most crossed him of all others in the device of his purpose. Afterwards, because he would yet strengthen himself the better, he married Hermocrates daughter, a SYRACUSAN Captain, that overcame Nicias and the ATHENIANS, and married his sister unto Polyxenus, brother in law unto Hermocrates. Whilst things passed thus, the CARTHAGINIANS, being masters of AGRIGENTE, after they had spoiled, burnt & razed it, they marched away with their General Himilco, and went and besieged the city of GELE, friend to the SYRACUSANS, in manner of a like distance from SYRACUSE and AGRIGENTE, very far in land, where the other two were ports of the sea. The besieged did wonderful valiantly defend themselves, their town being weak and kept by the citizens only, accompanied with their wives and children that would not forsake them. Dionysius hearing of their necessity, brought a strong aid unto them of thirty thousand footmen, and a thousand horse, besides a great number of galleys, that lay off and on upon the I'll, to cut off victuals from Himilco, and to land also. But when they came to join, Dionysius having divided his bands into three troops to trouble his enemy the more, he could not do so well but the CARTHAGINIANS had the better, and slew many of his men. He very hardly escaping with his troop entered into the town, and there called his friends together to counsel what they were best to do. They seeing the place dangerous, and of great disadvantage to hazard a battle in, gave him counsel to retire again. He sent a trumpet overnight to Himilco, to pray him to surcease arms till the morning, that he might gather the dead bodies together to bury them. In the mean space, in the first watch of the night, he made all the people come out of the town, and dislodged himself about midnight, leaving there 2000 men lightly armed, commanding them to make great fires and noise, that the enemies might think that he and his men were still in the town: & that they at the break of day should come to their troops. Dionysius having escaped thus, came unto CAMARINE, a town halfway betwixt GELE and SYRACUSE, and commanded all the inhabitants to dislodge and come to SYRACUSE, that they might avoid the cruelties of the CARTHAGINIANS who sacked GELE. So, all the inhabitants of these two towns compelled to leave their houses and country, all the fields & highways were full of women, children, and of poor people of the country. This moved the soldiers against Dionysius, who accused him that he had done this of purpose, that he might more easily seize upon the other cities of SICILIA, which should be destroyed by the barbarous CARTHAGINIANS: and thus they complained one to another of the little aid he had given to the townsmen of GELE: how the soldiers of his guard had dealt cowardly in their service, and ran away without the loss of a man of theirs, and no body pursued after them. Upon this discontentment, the ITALIAN soldiers that came out of ITALY, took their journey to return home. And the men of arms of SICILIA at the first began to lie in wait to kill Dionysius on the way: but seeing that the soldiers of his guard were never from him, nor he from them: they departed all together, and went with speed towards SYRACUSE, and found them that were left there in garrison, lodged in the place of the Arsenal, who knew nothing what had happened before GELE. By this means being entered without resistance, they sacked the palace of Dionysius, where they met with great riches, and did so villainously abuse his wife, that for grief she killed herself. But about the time that they departed from the camp, Dionysius imagining by the way what would follow after this, he chose out certain footmen and horsemen which he thought he might best trust about his person, and went with all speed possible with them to SYRACUSE, supposing he should not overcome these men of arms, unless he did as they. And even as he thought so it came to pass: for they persuading themselves that Dionysius could not well tell what course to take, whether to follow them, or to keep with is army: thought they had won all, and walked up and down the town telling stories of the cowardliness of Dionysius: who having marched well near nineteen leagues at one journey, came about midnight to the gates of ACRADINE, with about a hundred horse, & six hundred footmen: and finding it shut, caused store of faggots, reeds, and sedge of the fens to be laid against the gate, wherewith the SYRACUSANS use to burn their lime, which they found there ready at hand. Whilst this gate was a burning, his men that could not follow him so fast arrived one after another. And so the gate being burnt he entered, & found in the market place some of these men of arms, who in haste had set themselves in order of battle: but on the sudden they were engaged, and killed with pikes and darts. Dionysius on the other side, he ran through the town putting them all to the sword he met here and there in the streets, that were running to aid their men. And not staying so, he entered into their houses whom he knew to be his enemies, killed some of them, and drove others out of the city. The rest of the men of arms fled, some here, some there, and the next morning all his forces arrived at SYRACUSE. But they of GELE, and of CAVARINE, being angry with him, went into the city of the LEONTINES.  
In the midst of all these stirs and doings, the plague being hot in the camp of the CARTHAGINIANS, enforced Himilco to sand a herald unto SYRACUSE to demand peace. Dionysius accepted it very willingly. So peace was concluded, that the CARTHAGINIANS should have the SICANIANS, besides all the towns which they had before the war in their power: That they of SELINONTE, of AGRIGENTE, of HIMERA, of GELE, and of CAMARINE, might return home to their houses, devil in their country, & in their towns without walls, paying a certain yearly tribute unto the CARTHAGINIANS: That the LEONTINES, those of MESSINA & all other the SICILIANS should be free, and enjoy their liberties and privileges: That the SYRACUSANS should remain under the government of Dionysius: That the prisoners and galleys taken in this war should be restored again on either side. By means of this peace Dionysius got the CARTHAGINIANS out of SICILIA, established his principality surer than ever, and married again two other wives together: the one a stranger of the city of LOCRES, called Doris: the other of SYRACUSE called Aristomache, the daughter of Hipparinus the chief man of all the citizens. He had asked a wife of them of RHEGE, but they refused him, and scorned his tyranny: of whom he was cruelly revenged, as we will tell you hereafter. It is reported that he married them both in one day, and it was never known which of them he knew first: for the rest, that ever afterwards he showed them both a like favour. They did ordinarily eat together with him, and both of them by turns lay with him. They of SYRACUSE were desirous that his wife of SYRACUSE should be preferred before the stranger. But Doris had this good hap, to bring forth Dionysius eldest son: which served his turn well to defend himself that she was a foreigner. Aristomache to the contrary was married a long time to Dionysius and had no children: though he was very desirous to have one by her. Insomuch that he put Doris mother to death, charging her that she had by charms and sorceries kept back Aristomache from conceiving. But afterwards she had children, to wit, two sons, Nisaeus, and Hipparinus: and two daughters, Arete, and Sophrosyne. Dionysius the younger, married his sister Sophrosyne: and Arete was married unto Thearides, brother to Dionysius the elder: and her second husband was Dion, the brother of Aristomache. Furthermore, considering that the SYRACUSANS being delivered from the war of the CARTHAGINIANS should have leisure to think to recover their liberty again: and perceiving that the quarter they called the Isle was stronger of situation, and easier to keep then any other of the three: he enclosed it in with a strong wall from the rest, & built there many great and high towers, palaces to keep his courts, hals for his Counsel and public assemblies, goodly galleries, and spacious gate-houses to contain a great number of people. And to retire himself unto upon any sudden emotion of the common people, he built a marvelous strong castle, within the compass whereof he enclosed the Arsenal, where mighty in dock threescore galleys: and there was a gate also to shut too, into the which could enter but one galley at a time. Than choosing out the goodliest and best place of all the territory of SYRACUSE, he divided it among his friends, and gave it unto them that had charge of men of war under him. That which remained, he distributed by equal portions unto other inhabitants of the town, aswell natural borne citizens, as strangers, come from other parts to devil at SYRACUSE, concluding under the name of citizens the bondmen enfranchised, who he called the new burgesses: and distributed to the people also the houses of SYRACUSE, those reserved of the quarter of the I'll, which he gave unto his friends and soldiers.  
So, having as he thought well assured his estate, he began to make war upon the free cities of SICILIA, under colour that they had favoured the CARTHAGINIANS. HERBESSE, a city in firm land near unto the mountains, in the heart of the country, was the first he attempted, and went and besieged it. But the SYRACUSANS that were a great number in this army, and well appointed, began to have secret meetings, and to blame themselves, for that they joined not with the men of arms to drive out this tyrant. He whom Dionysius had given them for their captain called Doricus, was ware of their conferences, and threatened one that spoke louder than the others: who replied so fiercely again, that the captain came to him in choler to strike him. But his companions took the quarrel, and did so contest against him, that they killed the captain in the place. Than stirring up their fellow citizens to recover their liberty, they sent for the men of arms of the SYRACUSANS, who were retired into the fort of AETNE. Dionysius amazed with this change, presently raised his siege, and with all expedition took his way towards SYRACUSE, that he might be there first. After he was go, those that had mutined chose them for their leaders that had killed captain Doricus, went and encamped themselves with the men of arms before SYRACUSE, in a place called Epipoles to make war with the tyrant, having stopped all the passages that he could not come out into the field. And forthwith they sent to them of RHEGE and MESSINA, to pray them to sand them aid: which they obtained, to wit, ninety galleys well appointed. Furthermore, they promised by open proclamation, a great sum of money to him that would kill the tyrant: and to the strangers that were in pay, to make them Burgesses as themselves, if they would take their part against him. They provided engines of battery to beat down the walls of the Isle, and every day gave new assaults unto them, and made very much of all the soldiers strangers that took their part. Whereupon Dionysius seeing himself shut out of the field, and that his men forsook him every hour, assembled his friends to consult with them what was to be done. Some counseled him to tarry, alleging that tyranny and absolute power usurped by him, was a fair tomb. Polixemus his brother was of the mind, that he should save himself on the swiftest horse he had in his stable, in the lands which the CARTHAGINIANS held in SICILIA. But Philistus, who afterwards wrote the story of his gests, said then, that Dionysius should neither fly away, nor yield up his tyranny, the which he should never forego but by force, and his feet forward. Dionysius took hold of this opinion, and resolved with himself to abide all extremity, rather than to yield up his place. Being in this case he fortuned to come to see a butcher slaughter an ox, and having observed that at one stroke he fell down stark dead: Alas, said he, were it not great shame that for fear of death which lasteth so little while, and is so soon go, I should leave so goodly and great a Signiory? But knowing what people he had to deal withal, he sent ambassadors unto them that kept him in so straightly, to beseech them to permit him with safety to come out of the town with his followers. Even at that instant he sent men to the soldiers CAMPANIANS, to promise' them all that they would have, so they would come and besiege SYRACUSE. The townsmen having suffered him to go his way with five ships, slept quietly in hope that he would be go: and cassiered a part of their soldiers, supposing they should need no longer to besiege it. So that their soldiers dispersed themselves here and there in the fields, even as if the tyranny had been put down. But the CAMPANIANS alured by Dionysius promises, came into the field, and being come to AGYRIDE, they left their carriage to be so much the sooner before SYRACUSE. They were twelve hundred horsemen, and made such speed, that they surprised the SYRACUSANS, and in despite of them road through the town unto the castle of Dionysius, in whose aid also at the very same time there arrived by sea, three hundred other soldiers: so that now he become more courageous than ever he was. The SYRACUSANS on the other side began to disarm themselves, some being of one mind some of another: which Dionysins understanding, he made a fallie out upon them that kept the quarter called NEAPOLIS, or new town, and put them all to flight: howbeit many were not killed, for Dionysius riding every where about, willed his men to kill none that fled. Thus were the SYRACUSANS driven and dispersed in the field, where there gathered about the horsemen above seven thousand. Now for Dionysius, he having caused them to be buried that were slain in this conflict, he sent ambassadors unto AETNE to them that were retired thither, to entreat them to be at peace, and to return home to their houses, promising them by oath, that he would never be revenged for any thing they had practised or done against him. Those that had wives and children at SYSACUSA, were compelled to trust to his words and promises. But when the ambassadors alleged to the others, the humanity of their master in burying the dead: they answered, that the tyrant deserved to have as much done to him, and that they prayed the gods they might quickly requited him. For all this they would not stir out of AETNE, expecting opportunity to set upon their enemy: who being escaped from so great a danger, he courteously used them that returned, to entice the others to follow. And for the rest, after he had well paid the CAMPANIANS, he put them out of the city, suspecting their inconstancy and treason. They departing from SYRACUSE, went unto the city of ATELLE, where they prevailed so much, that they were received into the town to devil there. But their wickedness burst out into such extremity, that one night they set upon the natural inhabitants, killed every man that was able to bear arms, and afterwards by force thrust out their wives: and by this means made themselves masters of the town, and of all the territory thereabout. At the same time Aristus, one of the chiefest men of LACEDAEMON was sent unto SYRACUSE, upon a rumour given out amongst the people, that it was to drive out the tyrant. But the effect showed that it was but to negotiate with him, and to bind him unto them, to serve their turns in their affairs. Aristus then having immediately after his arrival had secret conference with Dionysius, he began to mutiny the SYRACUSANS, promising them all the aid he could, for the recovery of their liberty. But afterwards he himself killed Nicoteles the CORINTHIAN, who had promised the SYRACUSANS to be the head of this enterprise: and accusing them that gave credit to his words, he made the tyrant more bold and stronger than ever. So did he also begin to show himself more than before: for he found the means to sand the SYRACUSANS into the fields to get in their corn and harvest, and in the mean space whilst they were out of the city, he went into the houses himself, and fetched out all their arms that had any. Than he environed his castle round about with another second wall, built divers ships, and assembled a great number of soldiers strangers, whom he afterwards entertained. Now he thinking himself too little a Lord, undertook to conquer some fronter towns near unto the territory of the SYRACUSANS, and before he would assail them, he brought his army before AETNE, which he won presently. From thence he came to besiege the city of the LEONTINES, the which having resisted him, after he had foraged and preyed the country about, he turned unto the towns of the natural SICILIANS, making as though he meant to set upon them, to the end that those of CATANE, & of NAXE, seeing the war in another place, should care the less for themselves. So being near unto the town of ENNE, he put into Limnestus head, a citizen of the same, that he should take upon him to make himself Lord of the town, promising to help him in it: which the other executed. Howbeit he kept the town for himself, & shut the gates against Dionysius: who being angry with this repulse, counseled the ENNIANS to drive out this new tyrant. The people being set on by him, ran one day in arms into the market place, and cried, Liberty. Dionysius understanding that, followed with some of his faithful friends, took hold of Limnestus, & delivered him to the ENNIANS, and went out of the town again immediately, to make others to trust him. From thence he went unto CATANE, and won that town through the treason of Arcesilaus captain of the same: took all the arms from the inhabitants, and left a good garrison there. Procles captain of NOXE, shortly after played even the like part that Arcesilaus had done: and was well recompensed for it, and all his kinsmen and friends were given him: but the other inhabitants were sold by the drum, their town destroyed, and their lands given unto the SICILIANS, neighbours to SYRACUSE. For those of CATANE, they were also sold unto them that would give most within SYRACUSE, and their town given to the soldiers CAMPANIANS. This made the LEONTINES hold up their hands, leave the town, and go devil at SYRACUSE. Now Dionysius fortified SYRACUSE a new, and having determined to close in the quarter called Epipoles with walls, he assembled threescore thousand labourers distributed by troops, and serving skilful masters, accompanied with Masons that had their day work. These men encouraged by his presence, by his promises and gifts, finished the wall in three weeks of a reasonable height and thickness, being little less than two leagues about. The banished men of SYRACUSE being fled to RHEGE, did what they could possible to move the inhabitants to make war against Dionysius. They laboured it so well, that in the end the RHEGIANS went into the field, and induced the Governors of MESSINA to keep them company. But a MESSENIAN called Leomedon, having discouraged the troops, every one went home again, and did nothing: and as for Dionysius, he looked no further into them, but the RHEGIANS and MESSENIANS having sent unto him to treat of peace, he judging that the friendship of these two cities would be very expedient for him, made peace with them.  
So having assured himself on that side, and considering that many GREEKS' of SICILIA fled into the towns which were subject to the CARTHAGINIANS, and that there were towns, untouched, unto the which they carried their goods: he thought that so long as he was at peace with them, divers of his subjects would be willing to do the like. Howbeit that in making war with them, those whom the CARTHAGINIANS should overcome by arms, would come to his side. Furthermore, word was brought him that CARTHAGE was wonderfully afflicted with the plague, which did the more strengthen him in his resolution. But knowing that he had to deal with mighty enemies of all the people of EUROPE, and that this war would not so soon be ended: he gathered together into SYRACUSE out of all the coasts of ITALY, of GRECE, and of SICILIA, the best workmen and artificers, unto whom he gave great wages, and great gifts unto those that were most skilful and diligent. Who labouring in envy the one of the other, they built up in a short time two hundred galleys, repaired a hundred and ten that had served a long time, forged an hundred and forty thousand bucklers or targets, so many swords and daggers, as many helmets and salads: fourteen thousand corcelets, curates, and brigandines of all sorts: engines of battery of all fashions, and of darts, an incredible and unestimable number. Touching the galleys, to arm them with pilots, mariners, and galleyslaves, the city of SYRACUSE furnished for the one half: and Dionysius for the other half paid the soldiers strangers. The furniture of these ships, arms, and harness being ready, he began to gather his army together, and would not for saving of charges put himself in readiness before. He gathered together within SURACUSA all those that were able to bear arms: he drew out of the towns subject unto him, all that were meet for war: he levied men out of LACONIA with consent of the Lords of SPARTA, and got a great number out of all parts because he paid well, and gave them very gracious entertainment that came to serve him. But above all the rest he showed himself a marvelous friend to the RHEGIANS, and MESSENIANS, that had a reasonable strong army in readiness to be employed: being afraid that so soon as they should see the CARTHAGINIANS passed into SICILIA, they would join with them: for to which side soever these two cities would incline, they would help to make a great weight in the balance, and to bring the victory to fall on their side. It was at that time that he gave a great country of extent unto the MESSENIANS, and prayed the RHEGIANS to give him a wife of their town. But they would not hear of that in any wise. Whereupon he went to the LOCRIANS, who gave him her of whom we have spoken before: and for many days together did nothing else but make banquets and feasts, aswell to his soldiers, as unto the more part of the citizens of SYRACUSE. For he had now changed his first sourness and cruelty of a tyrant into gentleness: he did use his subjects in a more civil sort, put no more of them to death, nor banished any more of them, as he did at the first beginning. Shortly after this marriage was past, he assembled the people of SYRACUSE, & did persuade them to make war with the CARTHAGINIANS, telling them that they were enemies of all the universal GREEKS, and of those especially that dwelled in SICILIA, whom they practised by all means they could to make subject unto them. And that albeit they did not now make any alteration, it was because of the plague that tormented them much: but so soon as they were free from that, they should see the effects of their malice against all the inhabitants of SICILIA, which they cast long before in their minds. And that it were better for him, since it must needs be, soon or late, to begin to make war upon them they being now weak, then to tarry till they were recovered again: and that it was a great shame to them to suffer the towns of GRECE so near unto them, to be made subject to barbarous people: that being desirous to recover their liberty, so much more willing they would be to yield themselves unto the SYRACUSANS, so soon as they should see that it were open war. These and other reasons were received and allowed by the SYRACUSANS, who were no less desirous than himself to make war with them. For they hated the CARTHAGINIANS, because that for fear of them they were constrained to put themselves under the yoke. And next, for that they hoped Dionysius would use them more gently, so long as on the one side he should be afraid of the force of the enemies, and on the other, of the rebellion of those whom by force he kept under. And especially above the rest, for that they hoped being armed, if occasion were offered, they might one day stand for the recovery of their liberty.  
War being concluded upon in this assembly, Dionysius suffered the SYRACUSANS to spoil the PHOENICIANS that trafiqued in their haven: which they executed out of hand. The other SICILIANS did as much: so that the CARTHGAINIANS were driven to run away, and those that they could catch were cruelly handled in every place, for the hatred they bore them, because of the proud parts they committed in the wars past. Dionysius having all his army in readiness, sent a Herald unto CARTHAGE with letters, containing that the SYRACUSANS had decreed in their Council to make war upon the CARTHAGINIANS, unless they departed from the towns of GRECE which they held in SICILIA, and did leave them at liberty. The Senate and people of CARTHAGE amazed at it, knew that they had to fight with Dionysius, nevertheless they resolved to take arms, and sent to levy men out of all parts. Dionysius on the other side, he took the field with an army of fourscore thousand fight men of foot, and three thousand horse: and had at the sea near two hundred galleys and ships of ower, accompanied with five hundred great ships of burden, full of all sorts of engines of battery, and of necessary munitions for such an army. All the towns almost of SICILIA yielded themselves unto him, saving MOTYE, ANCYRE, SOLES, EGESTE, PALERME, and ENTELLE. Leptines his brother and Admiral, lay before MOTYE, and besieged it: and himself spoiled all the country of the SOLENTINES, PALERMITANS, and ANCIREIANS: and besieged EGESTE, and ENTELLE, and gave them divers assaults. News being brought unto him that Himilco was at hand, he went and encamped before MOTYE, a town situated within a little Isle of SICILIA, half a league from firm land, stately built, and very rich at that time. The which he assaulted by sea and by land, drove Himilco and his forces back, and won the town by assault: but they sold their lives and town very dear, having killed a great number of the enemies, before they were forced. The SICILIANS yet angry in their hearts for the mischiefs they had endured through the insolency of the CARTHAGINIANS in the former wars: were so brewed in blood, that all those of MOTYE were put to the sword. They that saved themselves in the temples, had their lives granted them: but Dionysius made them all be sold by the drum. Whilst he was occupied there, the EGESTANS' made a sally upon the camp which he had left before the town, and set it on fire, which burned the most part of his soldiers, and the rest well warmed, saved themselves as they could. But Dionysius not much regarding this loss, set upon all the towns of the CARTHAGINIANS with his army. They for their part, gave all the authority and power unto Himilco, to prepare for this war of SICILIA. He made an army of three hundred thousand footmen, and of a great number of horsemen, and gave the rend vous to the ships of burden at PALERME: where he arrived with his fleet of galleys that followed him. The Admiral Leptines having descried his coming, set forward with his ships, and fought with them in the main sea: he killed five thousand of his men, sunk fifty ships, and two hundred carts of war: and the rest of them saved themselves by flying. But Himilco having landed his army, went and assailed MOTYE, and wan it again of the SARACUSANS.  
At that time Dionysius was before EGESTE, where word being brought him of the arrival of the CARTHAGINIANS, and of the taking again of MOTYE: he began to be afraid, and to take advice to return to SURACUSA: he commanded the SICILIANS to retire, and made their lands waste, to disadvantage their enemies by so much the more. This sudden change of Dionysius, was cause that many of his friends took part with Himilco, who seeing his affairs prospero so well, made his army march to MESSINE: took in (passing by) the I'll and town of LYPARE: and then besieged the MESSENIANS so straightly, that in the end he won the town by assault. And there having refreshed his troops, he razed the town to the very ground, the which did so much amaze the SICILIANS, that all, except the ASSARINS, turned unto the CARTHAGINIANS. Dionysius being at his wits end for so many losses, did fortify the strong holds that were in the territory of the LEONTINES, sent the CAMPANIANS to AETNE, that dwelled in the town of CATANE: and taking order for his affairs the best he could possible, he went into the field with four and thirty thousand footmen, and a thousand horse, and lodged under the mount Taur, where the banished men of SYRACUSE were placed, favoured by the CARTHAGINIANS, and had fortified it, and made it in form of a town: whilst he made his abode there, news came unto him that the army of the CARTHAGINIANS was divided into two, and that the one part of them went by land to CATANE with Himilco: and the other came towards him by sea, led by Mago. He hoping to make this fleet as nothing, commanded his brother Leptines to make out with his shipping against Mago. But Leptines was put to flight, with the loss of twenty thousand men, and well near a hundred of his ships. This loss drove Dionysius into such a fear, doubting beside jest Mago following his victory should draw towards SYRACUSE, which was easy to be won having no garrison in it: he retired into his city, and from thence sent men into ITALY and into GRECE, to pray aid against the CARTHGAINIANS. Himilco knowing his retreat, brought all his forces immediately unto SYRACUSE, besieged it by land and by sea, won the suburbs of ACRADINE, and set up his pavilion in the temple of jupiter Olympian, all the other temples of the suburbs having been rifled by the soldiers. In the mean time Polyxemus brought to the aid of the town, thirty ships of their friends under the conduct of Pharacidas, a Captain of the LACEDÆMONIANS. With this aid, and all the ships of burden, Dionysius put to the sea to go get victuals. But now whilst he was at the sea in his voyage, the SYRACUSANS being careful to look to their city, and spying out all occasions to mischief the besiegers: they descried a boat that brought corn to the camp of Himilco. Whereupon on the sudden they armed all their galleys, and fought so valiantly with the CARTHAGINIANS, that they took their Admiral with twenty others, and sunk four of them, and followed the rest that fled, unto the very place where their ships lay at anchor within the great haven, provoking them to battle. But the CARTHAGINIANS astonished with this overthrow, stirred not.  
Than the SYRACUSANS fastened the galleys prisoners unto the poops of theirs, and brought them into the city. Whereupon they being couragions again for this little advantage they had of their enemies: they began to talk among themselves, how the tyrant had been many times overcome, and that they to the contrary without him had overcome the CARTHAGINIANS. And thereupon gathering together by troops, they went speaking one to another, that they were weary with serving a tyrant, and now specially having means to put him down for ever: for before they were disarmed, but now by reason of the wars they had their arms in their hands. Notwithstanding they daily held this talk, Dionysius made the people to assemble, and praised them highly for the good service they had done, persuading them furthermore to be of good courage, for within few days he would make an end of this war. But as the assembly of the people was ready to go their way, Theodorus SYRACUSAN, judged to be one of the best men of arms within the town, stepped up, & made a long oration, in the which after he had by piece-meal laid open all the tyrannies▪ cowardliness, and wicked deeds of Dionysius, whom he called grammarian, clerk, a careless man, ignorant of the affairs of war, oppressor of all SICILIA, and favourer of all thieves and ill men of the world: he persuaded them by divers reasons to endeavour themselves to recover their liberty. And since that their allies of ITALY and GRECE were within the city, that they should bring back again the power and authority to created such captains as they should think good, into the hands of the citizens, according to the tenure of their ancient laws, or else into the hands of their ancestors and first founders, which were the CORINTHIANS: or at the lest into the LACEDÆMONIANS hands, who had then the seigniority of all GRECE. The SYRACUSANS being marvelously moved with such a speech, behold the countenance of their confederates assistants in this assembly: until such time as Pharacidas being gotten up into the pulpit for orations, made every man harken, supposing it should be he that should begin first to stir up and encourage others to the recovery of their liberty. But to the contrary, he being particularly friend to Dionysius, began to tell them, that his Lords had sent him to aid the SYRACUSANS and Dionysius against the CARTHAGINIANS: not to destroy them, nor to abolish his estate. This speech being clean contrary to that the common people expected, the soldiers strangers ran strait about him. Whereupon the SYRACUSANS stirred not, saving that to themselves they cursed the LACEDÆMONIANS, because that heretofore they had sent them Aristus, who pretending he came to aid them for to recover their liberty, was a traitor and sold them: and now that this Pharacidas had broken the hearts of their courages, being well disposed to root out this tyranny. For Dionysius, he spoke smoothly for the time, being thoroughly afraid they would have set upon him, and so dismissed the assembly, using the most gracious words unto them he could possible. To others he gave presents, he sent for others to come and eat with him at his table. In the mean time the plague strangely possessed the camp of the CARTHAGINIANS, and in a short time killed well-near 150000. of them: whereupon the most part of them were forsaken alive and dead, the contagion was so horrible. Some imputed it partly to the discommodity of the place, and excessive number of men living as it were on heaps together: partly unto the vengeance of God punishing their pride, the insolences, cruelties, and sacrileges of the CARTHAGINIANS. Dionysius understanding of this misery, would not vainly let slip such a fit occasion, but armed fourscore galleys, under the conduct of Pharacidas and Leptines, and his troops, with whom he assailed Himilco by sea and by land, took his forts, burnt and drowned the most part of his ships, broke the rest, and gave his people of SYRACUSE means to set upon the little barks, & to shut them within the city. To be short, he brought them to such extremity, that they sent secretly unto him to pray him to suffer that which was saved from the overthrow the day before, to pass the sea, and to retire home to AFRICA with safety: promising to make him a present of an hundred and fourscore thousand crowns. His answer was, that it was not possible all should be saved, yet he was contented the natural CARTHAGINIANS should pass. For he doubted much that the SYRACUSANS and their friends would never suffer him to respite those other, if they once understood it. But he did it of purpose, being unwilling that the army of CARTHAGE should be utterly destroyed, for fear that when the SYRACUSANS should see themselves free from this fear: they would remember the Oration of Theodorus, and put too all their force to recover their liberty again. The money promised him being delivered, Himilco embarked by night all the natural CARTHAGINIANS that were left into forty galleys, and made sail immediately towards AFRICA. Howbeit he was scant out of the haven, but certain CORINTHIANS perceived his stealing away, and suddenly came to tell it to Dionysius, who seeming to be very greatly busied, commanded to sound thealarme, and that the Captains should prepare themselves to follow him. The CORINTHIANS seeing he went but faintly to work, would tarry no longer, but even at the present hour embarked themselves, drew up their anchors, and rowed hard after their enemies: so that in a short space they overtook the rear of their vessels, and so rudely hurt them, that they sunk some of them. Immediately after, Dionysius drew his army into the field: but the SICILIANS, friends unto the CARTHAGINIANS, had gotten the start before crossing the country, insomuch that the more part of them got home to their houses. For this cause Dionysius having left a guard to keep the passages by the high ways, he brought his army back again to the enemy's camp. The barbarous people seeing themselves betrayed by their General, forsaken of the natural CARTHAGINIANS and SICILIANS, their hearts were killed, and began to fly, stealing away, some this way, some that way: but all of them in manner fell into the hands of the soldiers that guarded the high ways. Those that were left, came before Dionysius, and casting down their arms, besought him to take pity of them, and to save their lives: the SPANIARDS only excepted, who gathered themselves together with their arms, and sent unto him to offer their service, if it would please him to accept them: the which he did, and received them into pay among the soldiers strangers. For the rest, he took the other prisoners, and gave their baggage in prey to his soldiers. For Himilco, after he had lived ignominiously and poorly at CARTHAGE, he died distracted of his wits. Some hold opinion that immediately after he was arrived, not able to endure the shame he got in this war, he killed himself.  
Dionysius having driven the CARTHAGINIANS out of SICILIA, he built up MESSINA again which they had ruined. Than he went to besiege TAUROMENION, fortified by the SICILIANS: who lustily gave him the repulse, and made a sally upon him, and killed the most part of his men, having much ado to escape himself. On the other side, Mago chief of the AFRICANS in SICILIA, did courteously entreat his allies, and received into his protection all those whom Dionysius oppressed. By which occasion having won the hearts of the most part of them, he become so strong in a short time, that he got a great army again on foot, marched with them to MESSINA, and overran all the plain country, where having gotten a great booty, he took upon him to besiege the ABACENIANS confederates of Dionysius: who being bound to aid them, he went against the CARTHAGINIANS, beaten Mago in a conflict, and killed eight hundred of his men. So having brought his troops to SYRACUSE and refreshed them, he armed a fleet of an hundred vessels, to go and make war with those of RHEGE, and coming to their haven by night, at that instant time he did fiercely assail them, set fire on their gates, and set up scaling ladders in diverse parts: nevertheless the RHEGIANS defended themselves so courageously, that he was forced to retire. And thereupon receiving certain intelligence what great preparation they made at CARTHAGE to begin the war again: he left RHEGE, and returned again to SYRACUSE. So the CARTHAGINIANS had gotten together again fourscore thousand men, whom they sent into SICILIA under the conduct of Mago. But before they came to join with the enemies, they concluded peace with these conditions, that every one should enjoy that they had gotten: That one of them should not quarrel with the other for any thing: That Dionysius might without breach of peace make war with the TAUROMENITANS. These being thus agreed upon between them, Dionysius went and besieged TAUROMENION the second time, and did more furiously assault it then before: so that in the end, after long resistance of them that were besieged, he wan the town, drove out the SICILIANS that dwelled there, and did replenish it with strangers whom he kept in pay. Afterwards because his army should not be idle and mutinous, he chose twenty thousand footmen, and three thousand horse, and went into ITALY with them next adjoining unto SICILIA, to subdue those GREEKS' which had dwelled there of long time. News being brought unto them of Dionysius intention, they assembled all the estates of the country of CROTONE, where they all resolved to join together to repulse this common enemy: and making all the forces they could, establishing Eloris, a banished man of SYRACUSE their Chieftain, they made their army march against Dionysius, who camped before the city of CAULONE. He understanding of their coming, raised his siege suddenly to go and meet with them: and the next morning after his departure, by break of day he gave charge upon the GREEKS' with his troops well appointed, who marching disorderly, he killed their Chieftain, and the valiantest men of their army: and afterwards besieged the others that had saved themselves in a town, and compelled them to yield for that they had no water. Yet contrary to all men's expectation, he used them very courteously, and sent them home safe without ransom. After he had won this goodly victory, he led his army into the territory of the RHEGIANS, whom he hated to the death. They having no friends, and too weak of themselves to resist such a mighty enemy: were constrained to make peace with him with very hard conditions. For he made them give him threescore galleys, a hundred and fourscore thousand crowns, and for hostage and observation of other articles, a hundred of the chiefest of the town. From thence he returned to besiege CAULONE, and held them so strait, that he won it by assault, destroyed it, and gave the lands unto them of LOCRES.  
But for as much as he could not forget the unreconcilable hatred he bore unto the RHEGIANS, he having demanded on a time one of their daughters in marriage: they report that the answer they made in an open assembly of the town unto his Ambassadors, was that they would give him none of them, unless he would marry the hangman's daughter of the town: this made him resolve that he would see the end of it. And where before he had made peace with them, it was not for any good will he bore them, nor that he desired their friendship, but because he would take their galleys from them, hoping that after he had left them bore at the sea, he should come closer to them, and have them at his discretion. Therefore whilst he was in ITALY, he sought nothing else but to take an occasion to make war with them, so that he might not be charged that contrary to his faith he had broken the edict of pacification. Having therefore led his army unto the strait, making as though he would pass into SICILIA: he sent unto the RHEGIANS to demand victuals for his army, promising to sand them so much again upon his return to SYRACUSE. Which he did, to the end that if they refused, he might excuse himself well if he did set upon them: and if they did give him any, it should then turn to the hurt of the town, which if it came to be besieged, should be constrained for famine to hold up their hands to him. The RHEGIANS that lest doubted his malice, furnished him with victuals for certain days: but perceiving he tarried there too long, now counterfeiting he was sick, then that he used other delays to prolong time, they began to see his fetches, and refused to victual him any more. Thereupon he feigning to be much offended, sent them home their hostages, and came to besiege the town: coming hard to their walls, he made daily and continual assaults, beating upon the walls with great engines which he had made expressly of an incredible greatness. They having chosen a valiant man for their Captain, called Phyton, and furnished all those that were able to bear arms in the town, they defended themselves courageously, and did many ways hurt their enemies: and specially in a sally they made, Dionysius was sore hurt with a lance in the flank, that he was like to have died. But being recovered and well again, he pursued his purpose more obstinately than ever: whereby he took all hope of aid from them, and having continued siege there eleven months all together, in the end the RHEGIANS found themselves in great want of victuals of all sorts: for a bushel of wheat was at fifty crowns. After that all kind of come failed them, first they did eat up their horses, and all kind of beasts of burden. Than when they had no more to eat, they did seethe all their hides and leather they could found within the town, and so lived awhile. And last of all, coming out of the town, they did eat and devour up such herbs and roots as they could found by their walls, even as wild beasts. Dionysius perceiving it, in stead of pitying of them (nay rather desiring they should eat one another of them) he caused the grass to be cut down, and put his beasts in the camp into it, to feed of all that was alongst the town walls and ditches, to the end they should have nothing more to eat. So that in the end the poor RHEGIANS overcome by necessity, were constrained to yield themselves and their town to the discretion of the tyrant. Who being entered into the town, found heaps of bodies dead of that plague of famine: and such as were yet alive, seemed rather ghosts then living persons. So he gathered together about six thousand prisoners, whom he sent all to SYRACUSE, suffering notwithstanding all that could ransom themselves, (paying a talon) to be redeemed: and the rest to be sold by the drum to him that would give most. Among the prisoners there was Phyton and his son. Dionysius made his son to be drowned first: and the next morning after, he made the father to be tied to the highest engine of battery he had, and sent to tell him news of the death of his son. He was happier by a day than his father, said Phyton: who was drawn all the town over, and whipped most shamefully: having a sergeant at his back that cried out aloud, that Dionysius made him be whipped thus, because he had made the RHEGIANS take arms against him. But Phyton that had like a valiant captain and worthy man showed himself in this siege, and had lived honourably all his life time, did patiently endure the pain which the tyrant made him suffer. For he remained constant, speaking out aloud that every body heard him: That he was put to death, because he would not betray his country, and deliver it into the tyrant's hands, howbeit that within few days the gods would be revenged of him for this outrage. His constancy was such, that it moved Dionysius soldiers to compassion: who began already to murmur against him. Wherefore fearing jest they should be so bold to take him out of the tormentors hands: he made them leave whipping of him, & commanded that they should drown him in the sea with all his kindred, which was done: for the rest, the city of RHEGE was razed to the ground.  
Thus have we made a large discourse of the practices and wars of Dionysius. Now let us speak something of his private government. He had wit enough, but troubled with many vices: & the more he grew in years, the more it was corrupted. The flatterers made an end of his destruction: for they called his cruelty, the hate of wicked men, and good justice, & made him believe that he was a most worthy man in all things: insomuch that he thought himself the only man of the world, and would be so reputed. Being thus carried, and seeing himself at good leisure, he entered into a course which he had somewhat discontinued during the wars, & wherewith he was strangely taken: which was, to writ verses, & to make tragedies. He fell to this study again with more diligence than before, & sent for Poets out ofal parts, whom he honoured, and gave presents unto, because they should correct his works of Poëtry. They seeking to gratify him for their profit, said nothing, but that which they thought should be most pleasing unto him: so that being puffed up with their flatteries, he gloried more in his verses, than he did in his wars. Now amongst other Poets that followed him, there was one they called Philoxenus, a learned man, and excellent to writ hymns in praise of the gods. Dionysius one day gave him a tragedy of his to peruse and correct, he crossed it all over from one end to the other: and one night being asked what he thought of certain poësies which the tyrant made, he spoke openly, that they were worth nothing. He answered so plainly, that Dionysius angrily said, it was of envy that he censured his works so, and sent him forthwith to dig in the quarry pit. The next morning his friends entreated Dionysius to pardon him, which he did: & would have him again to supper with many others of his sort. In the midst of this feast, Dionysius that desired nothing more than to have his verses heard: he rehearsed some of them, and of those especially which he thought best done. Than turning himself to Philoxenus, he asked his opinion. But he answered him never a word, but looking about him, called one of Dionysius guard and said unto him: Carry me again to the quarry pit. Dionysius smiling at it, bore this nip well: and soon after taking Philoxenus apart, persuaded him not to be so sharp. His friends also told him that he might easily forbear to speak so freely to no purpose. Than Philoxenus made him an answer all new, saying, that from thenceforth he would keep such a weight on his words, that he would speak the truth, and keep himself in Dionysius favour, as he did. For Dionysius having rehearsed certain verses full of great lamentations, to move the hearts of the hearers to pity: he prayed Philoxenus to say his mind of them: who answered him, that those verses had filled him full of pity. It was a sharp gird of mockery which Dionysius perceived not, no more than that which Melanthius spoke of a tragedy after the like sort, that he could not see it, it was so dark of speech. And so was Plato not much better used than Philoxenus. Dion his disciple, and brother in law of Dionysius, had spoken so much good to this tyrant, that being at leisure he was contented to see Plato, and to hear him. So they being together, their talk generally was all of virtue: but chief they disputed, what was true force and prowess? Where Plato proved unto him, that tyrants were nothing less than valiant men. Out of that, turning his talk to speak of justice: he showed him that the life of the just was very happy: and that to the contrary, the life of unjust men was most wicked. Insomuch that the tyrant seeing himself convinced, could no longer endure talk with him: and was sorry to see those that were present so muchto esteem of him, and to take such singular pleasure to hear him speak. So at the last his choler being up, he asked him what business had brought him into SICILIA? To seek an honest man, said Plato. And how? (replied Dionysius) by the gods (to hear thee speak) it seemeth thou hast yet found none. Dion thought his choler should go no further, and so sent Plato away in a galley, whom Polis a captain of LACEDAEMON brought back again into GRECE. But Dionysius prayed this captain secretly, that whatsoever he did he should kill Plato by the way, or at leastwise cell him: adding too this jest withal, He shall be never a whit the worse for that: for if he be a just man, he shall be as happy being a servant as otherwise. And so Plato was sold in the I'll of AEGINE for the price of 200. crowns, and afterwards bought again by Annicerius a Philosopher, and sent to ATHENS.  
Dionysius gave himself all to Poesy, and sent for the best singers he could recover in the games Olympials, to rehearse and sing his verses before the people. The singers at the beginning were heard with admiration of every body, for the goodness & fineness of their voices: but when they came to examine their songs, they were despised, mocked, and whistled at, which angered him extremely when he heard of it. So this passioned desire did so much increase in his head continually, that he become almost as a man beside himself: & said that his faithful friends did envy him, and began to be at defiance with them, as if they had been traitors unto him. To conclude, this fury of his did so possess him, that he did put many to death upon false occasions, and banished others, as Philistus, and Leptines his brother, both of them valiant men, & that had done him great service in his wars. Howbeit afterwards he sent for them again, and they were his friends as before. But since we are now to talk of his cruelties, let us say something as we pass by. One of his greatest friends called Marsyas, dreamt one night that he cut his throat. The tyrant understanding of it, put this poor dreamer to death: alleging that this dream could not have come to him at night, but that he had it settled in his mind to commit such an act in the day. Leptines being desirous one day to describe SICILIA in his presence, took a halberd from one of the soldiers of his guard, and with the but end of it drew on the ground that which he would: wherewith Dionysius was so angry, that he bitterly took up Leptines, and put the soldier to death that had given him his halberd. Dionysius one day being disposed to disport himself some way, gave his Bardasse his sword and his cloak to keep: which one of his familiars perceiving, said: And what, do you trust this young boy with your life? The youth began to smile at it: but Dionysius made him be killed, because by his smiling he seemed to allow of this word: and he also dispatched the other, because he had showed him the mean to kill him. He was determined to have put his brother in law Polyxemus to death: but he having an inkling of it, fled out of SICILIA. Dionysius sent for Tescha his sister, and chid with her because she had kept his flying away close from him. But she answered him with a bold countenance: And how thinkest thou, Dionysius, that I am a woman so cowardly and faint hearted, if I had known that my husband would have go, that I would not have taken sea with him, and have been companion of his fortune? I knew nothing before he was go, for it had been more honourable for me to have been called the wife of Polyxemus banished, than sister to thee a tyrant. Dionysius was blank at this speech, and the SYRACUSANS wondered at the virtue of this woman: insomuch that after the tyranny was destroyed, they did not leave to do her all the honour that they could have done to a Queen. And when she was dead, all the citizens by common consent went with her body to the sepulture. A question being moved one day, to wit: Which was the best copper? Antiphon answering quickly that it was that wherewith the ATHENIANS melted the statues of Armodius and Aristogiton, Dionysius made him to be strangled and die in great torments. They report of him that he spared not his own mother, but caused her to be strangled, though she was very old. And as for his brother Leptines, he suffered him to be killed by his enemies, albeit he might easily have saved and delivered him at that time. Some talked of his tyranny in a Barber's shop, and said it was well established, and also evil to be destroyed, as the Diamond to be broken. I marvel, said the Barber, smiling, how you say that of him, upon whose throat I pass my razor so often? These words being brought to Dionysius, he hanged the Barber. He had put to death at divers times ten thousand of his citizens, and though he had written in one of his tragedies, that tyranny was the mother of injustice: notwithstanding he had oftentimes this word in his mouth: That children must be deceived with plays, & men with fair promises. And he said, that the greatest pleasure and contentment he found in all his government, was: that what he would have done, was suddenly executed.  
One day he would have had money of the SYRACUSANS: they complained and lamented, beseeching him to hold them excused, telling him they had no money. He to the contrary, made them to be asked also by others: which he did twice or thrice one after another. And as he continued still urging of them yet further: it was told him they did nothing but laugh as they walked in the market place. Than he commanded his receivers to press them no more: for it is a sign, said he, that they have no more, since they make no account of us. His mother being past age to marry, would needs marry a young man. He answered her, that indeed it was in his power to break the laws of SYRACUSE, but of nature, not. He severely punishing all other malefactors, pardoned thieves that took away men's gowns and cloaks whom they met by night in the streets. To the end that for this cause the SYRACUSANS should leave to make feasts and assemblies, wherein they could not keep themselves from speaking & complotting against him. On a time a stranger promised him aloud to teach him secretly, how he should know those that did practise any thing against him. Dionysius prayed him very earnestly. So the other going to him, Give me said he, six hundred crowns, that the SURACUSANS may think thou hast learned of me the signs to discover the conspirators. He gave them him, and feigned that he had learned these means of him: greatly commending the subtle fashion to get money which this man had invented. Having heard one day a man that played upon the cithern passing well, he openly promised him the sum of six hundred crowns. The next morning he came to demand this sum: and Dionysius told him: Thou gavest me great pleasure yesterday to hear thee play: and so did I thee in making thee this promise: and so thou wert paid in the field for the pleasure thou gavest me, by that that thou receivedst. One asked him on a time, If he were not idle. God forbidden, said he, that that should ever happen to me. He being informed that two young men of the city drinking together, had spoken many evil words of him and his tyranny at the table: sent to invite them both to supper to him: and seeing that the one after he had drunk a little, said and did many odd foolish things: and that the other to the contrary was very sober, and drank but seldom: he pardoned the one, as being a drunkard and insolent of nature, and that through drunkenness had spoken evil of him: but he put the other to death, as one that bore him evil will in his heart, and being enemy unto him even of set purpose. Some of his familiars reproved him, because he had honoured and advanced a wicked man, and evil beloved of the SYRACUSANS. And he answered them, I will that there shall be some one in SYRACUSE, that shall yet be more hated than myself. Once he sent presents unto certain ambassadors of CORINTH, which came unto him. They refused them, because they had a statute in their commonwealth, that did forbidden ambassadors to take or receive any gifts or presents of Lord or Prince whatsoever. He was discontented withal, and told them that they did evil to take away that only good which is in tyrannies, that is, to have power to give: but they taught men also, that to receive any good of tyrants, is a thing one should fear and shun. Being informed that a townsman of SYRACUSE had hidden a treasure in the ground in his house, he commanded him to bring it him: the which he did, but not all for all that, for he reserved a part with the which he went and dwelled in another town, and bought some land there: which when he understood, he sent for him to come to him, and restored him all his gold and silver: Since thou knowest now, said he, how to use riches, and not to make that unprofitable which is made for the use of man.  
Now his cruelties and tyrannous behaviour made him marvelous odious to the world, by reason whereof he entered into such a mistrust of every body, that he made a trench be digged about his lodging where he lay, and because he would lie safely, he drew up a draw bridge, and shut himself in with great fear, having a great guard without round about him. His wives durst not come into his chamber before they had put off their gowns, he was so afraid jest they should bring a dagger under their gowns. Yea his brother and his own son were feign to put off their clotheses, & the guard of his chamber should come naked whatsoever he was that put his foot into it: then there was another garment cast upon him. He was afraid of his own son as much as of any other, doubting that when he felt his own courage, and frequented men of understanding, he would make some complot against him, and in the end thrust him out of his seat and signiory. He locked him up in a chamber, and would suffer no man to come and speak with him: where for lack of other occupations, this young man occupied himself to make little coaches or charets, candlesticks, saddles, stools, and tables of wood. Nevertheless, after he had some more liberty, and that his father began to let him come abroad: he strait grew to be proud and dissolute as might be. And they say, that when he had ravished a townesmans' wife by force, his father being angry with him, asked him: whether ever he had seen him do any such thing or not? the son answered him: Not more had you a father that was a tyrant. But Dionysius replied upon him again: So shalt thou never have a son at all, if thou leavest not to play these wicked parts. Another time going to see his son in his lodging, and seeing there great store of vessels of gold and silver, he told him: there is nothing in thee of a Lord or Prince, since I have given thee such a deal of gold and silver plate, and yet thou knowest not how to get a friend. It was an ordinary thing with Dionysius to tell wonders, and do little, being so exceeding timorous, but specially after the execution of his Barber, and that his daughters were now waxed great, he would not abide that any should clip his hairs with scissors: but he made an image-maker of images of earth to come to him, who with a burning coal burned his glib round about his head. Now he made himself to be known by a memorable fact he did: which was this. A certain flatterer called Damocles, praising the majesty and riches of Dionysius, and the magnificence of his palace, maintained that the Sun never saw a more happy man. Dionysius to make him partaker of this felicity, made him sit down upon a little bed very sumptuous, and enriched with wonderful precious things. Than he caused them to set up tables laden with vessels of gold and silver, and covered with wonderful dainty meats, a number of fine Pages attending on his service, perfumes passing rare and most excellent sweet for the chamber, and dainty music both with voice and instruments. To be short, all the pleasures and pastimes possible to be thought of, did compass this minion of court round about. But in the midst of all this magnificent furniture, Dionysius caused a naked sword, glistering, and sharp pointed, to be fastened to a small hair of a horse, and to be hanged right over Damocles head: who forgetting this felicity he had so much commended, besought Dionysius it might quickly be taken away. And like as he was cruel unto men, so did he show himself a despiser of his proper gods, whereof we will allege some examples. Having sacked the temple of Proserpina in the city of LOCRES, he took the sea, and having a gale of wind at pleasure: You see, said he, how the immortal gods do favour sacrileges. He took off a cloak of fine gold from jupiter Olympian, in the town of SYRACUSE, which cloak weighed fourscore and five talents, which are more worth than fifty thousand crowns, and gave him another of woollen, saying: That the cloak of gold was too cold for winter, and too heavy for summer▪ and that the woollen cloak would be more convenient in both seasons. He rounded also the statue of Apollo, which had a glibbe of gold. And finding that money went low with him, by reason of his great expenses in the wars he had against the CARTHAGINIANS, he took the sea with a fleet of threescore galleys, with pretence to set upon pirates, but indeed it was to spoil a temple of great fame, full of goodly and rich jewels that had been offered up there, the which was seated upon the edge of a quarter of a city of TUSCAN called AGYLLE. Being arrived there in the night, and having landed his men: in the morning by break of day he suddenly and without any danger executed his enterprise. For the place being guarded with some few men, he easily forced it, and afterwards at his leisure sacked the temple, where he got to the sum of 600000. crowns. Which the townsmen understanding, came out upon him strait to see if they could defend the temple: but he overcame them in battle, and having taken a great number of prisoners, he spoilt all their country, and then returned to SYRACUSE, where he sold his prisoners and his booty, for the which he had also 300000. crowns more.  
So being now well stored again, he began to set up an army: and because he saw the towns subject unto the CARTHAGINIANS willing to revolt, he did entice them, & used them very graciously that came and took his part. The CARTHGINIANS hearing that, sent unto him to demand their towns, otherwise they proclaimed war against him. So on both sides they came into the field. For the CARTHAGINIANS, they dispatched Mago into SICILIA with a great army. Dionysius being afraid of nothing, marched before with his troops, and being camped near to a place called CABALES: both the armies fiercely gave charge upon each other, & after a long fight Mago was slain in the place with 10000 of his men, and 5000. taken prisoners. The CARTHAGINIANS were not discouraged for all this, but chose them again the son of Mago for their chief Captain, a young Gentleman, wise, courageous, and valiant. So after they had stayed Dionysius by a truce for a certain time, the term being expired, they presented him battle, and fought it out so resolutely, that after they had slain his brother Leptines (whom he forsook at his need) and fourteen thousand of his men, with much ado he saved himself. But the conquerors being never a whit prouder of such a victory, they sent ambassadors unto him that concluded a peace for their advantage. For beside the towns that remained unto them, Dionysius paid them 600000. crowns to defray their charges in the wars. Also he kept not this peace long, but broke it shortly after: for understanding that the plague was hot amongst the CARTHGAINIANS, and that they were fallen out amongst themselves: he took occasion of this advantage, and to give colour to his pretence, gave it out that the soldiers AFRICANS had foraged the lands of his friends, whereupon he levied an army of 30000. footmen, and 3000. horse: with this army he began to make war again, and in the first employment of his forces he won SELINONTE and ENTELLE: & after that he marched to LILYBEE to besiege it: but seeing it well guarded, he returned back again. Hereupon news was brought him that fire had taken some of the arsenals of the CARTHAGINIANS: wherefore supposing all their ships of war had been burnt, he began to scoff at all their forces. But they having armed upon a sudden a fleet of 200. galleys, assailed unlooked for 130. of Dionysius galleys, which wintered in the haven of ERIX, some of them he sunk and brought away the others. After this loss Dionysius retired into SYRACUSE, and fell very sick. The which Dion perceiving, entered into talk of his children, and of his sister Aristomache. But the Physicians to curry favour with young Dionysius, hindered him that he could have no fit time to say any thing to him. Or as Timaeus writeth, they gave him a drink (as he had commanded them) to make him sleep, and by this means took from him his senses, joining death with sleep. Some others say, that he was killed by his guard: others, that he was poisoned. But Diodorus the SICILIAN setteth down the cause after another sort: which is this. He had caused, said he, a little before, a tragedy of his entitled, The LENEIANS, to be played at ATHENS: & having gotten the victory, one of the musicans brought him word of it by sea: which did so please him, that after he had richly rewarded the messenger, he made a great sacrifice to the gods to give them thanks for this prosperity, & sumptuous feasts, unto the which he invited all his friends, and drank so largely, that he fell into a great sickness whereof he died. Now he had in times past an oracle, that had foretold him he should dye then, when he had overcome those that should be worthier than himself. He applied this oracle to the CARTHAGINIANS, supposing it was meant by them, because they were stronger than he. This was the cause that oftentimes in the battles he had won against them, he being victor, fled, or willingly suffered himself to be overcome because of this prediction. Howbeit he could not shun his destiny: for being an ill Poet, he was judged by the sentence of corrupt judges, to have excelled all the other Poet's better than ever he was: & then came he to end his days, as the oracle had foretold him. Now though he had reigned the space of 38. years full out, and had boasted many times that he would leave his son a Principality chained with strong chains of a diamond: this young Dionysius ruled no long time, but being shortly after driven out of SYRACUSE by the inhabitants themselves, secondly by Dion, & at the last by Timoleon, who overthrew him altogether: he was sent to CORINTH, where he ended the rest of his days in misery. Afterwards the SYRACUSANS maintaining their liberty for the space of 20. years: they fell into Agathocles hands, who also committed terrible cruelties. After his death, they being full of civil dissension, demanded aid of Pyrrhus' king of EPIRUS against the CARTHAGINIANS. He having made a journey into SICILIA, was constrained to leave it, and had great war with the ROMANS. By reason whereof the SYRACUSANS willingly yielded themselves unto Hieron the second of that name, under whom (a great friend of the ROMANS) they prospered the space of fifty years. But after his death, his little son Hieronymus, a young Lord and unruly: took part with the CARTHAGINIANS: and having reigned only fifteen months, he was killed by his guard. Now for that his death brought on great confusions, and that the SYRACUSANS inclined to the CARTHAGINIANS part: the Consul Marcellus went to besiege SYRACUSE, and took it in the second year of the 142. olympiad. So that afterwards it was governed by Praetors, and according to the ROMAN law, even to the declination of their Empire.  
The end of Dionysius life.   

THE LIFE OF Octavius Caesar Augustus.  
DIWS AUGUSTUS PATER.  

Thy youth Augustus, and thy tongues good gift,  
Thy valour, wisdom, and thy worthy feats,  
Thy country's love, thy laws, and statutes, lift  
Thy throne above all other princely seats.   
ACcia, the daughter of Accius Balbus and of julia the sister of julius Caesar, was married unto the father of this man, whose life we writ of now, and who was descended of the ancient race of the Octavians, issued out of the country of the VOLSCES, and known at ROME from the time of Tarqvinius, and of Servius Tullus. Their son Octavius was borne in the year of the Consulship of Cicero and of Caius Antonius, at that time when as the conspiracy of Catiline was discovered, and suppressed. He was called Thurinus: but afterwards, according to the tenor of his uncles testament, who made him his heir, he was called Caius julius Caesar, and lastly Augustus, by the advice of Munatius Plancus, and by the decree of the Senate. He was but four years old when his father died, and at twelve years he made the funeral oration for his grandmother julia: four years after that, he become a gown-man, though he were but young: yet his uncle gave him a present at his return out of AFRICA, such as the soldiers are accustomed to have of their Captains▪ Shortly after he followed his uncle into SPAIN, whither he was go against the children of Pompey, and passed through many great dangers to overtake him. This war being ended, because Caesar undertook other longer journeys, Octavius was sent into the city of APPOLONIA: and there plied his book very diligently. And it chanced him, without having any mind to it, that being go to see Theogenes a learned Astronomer, he cast his nativity, and suddenly he leapt being amazed, and honoured him. The which made Octavius conceive great hope of himself, and in memory of this good hap, he caused certain pieces of money to be coined, and he himself told the opinion of Theogenes. Being returned from APPOLONIA to ROME, after his uncle was slain by Cassius, Brutus, and their allies, he declared himself to be his heir, though his mother and Marcius Philippus were of another mind. And having put himself forward, he governed the commonwealth of ROME, first with Antonius and Lepidus: afterwards with Antonius the space of twelve years: and lastly himself alone, the space of four and forty years. But before we speak of his government of common affairs in time of peace and war, let us say somewhat (after Swetonius) of his family and his manners. He married being yet very young the daughter of Publius Servilius Isauricus: but having made peace with Antonius after the war of MUTINY, and at the request of their armies who were desirous to see them friends, he married with Clodia, the daughter of Publius Clodius and of Fulvia then wife of Antonius. But before he knew her, he sent her to her mother, with whom he was somewhat discontented, and because of the war also of PEROUSE. Immediately he married Scribonia, and kept not her long because she was too troublesome: yet he had a daughter by her called julia. But forsaking her, he took another which he loved unto the end: and that was Livia Drusilla the wife of Tiberius Nero, whom he carried with him great with child as she was, and had no child: by her but one, and yet she went not out her time, and it had no life. His daughter julia was married unto Marcellus, the son of his sister Octavia: and after his death unto Marcus Agrippa, by whom she had three sons, Caius, Lucius, and Agrippa: and two daughters, julia, and Agrippine. After the death of Marcus Agrippa, he chose for his son in law Tiberius the son of Tiberins Nero and of Livia Drusilla, at that time a knight of ROME, and compelled him to forsake his wife Vipsamia, of whom he had a son called Drusus. But as he was fortunate in managing the affairs of the common wealth, so was he unfortunate in his race: for his daughter and his niece julia committed so foul faults in ROME, that he was constrained to banish them. Agrippine was married unto Germanicus, the son of his sister's daughter. Caius and Lucius died in less than a year and a half one after the other: whereupon he adopted his nephew Agrippa, and his son in law Tiberius. But because Agrippa was of a churlish nature and unhonest, he did disinherit him, and confined him to SURRENTUM. His niece julia had a child after she was banished, but he would not know it, nor suffer it should be brought up. He was very modest and continent in all the parts of his life, saving that he was somewhat given to women and play: for the rest, he liked not great palaces, but was contented with mean lodgings: and if there were any ornament, it was in porches and parks. His household-stuff and apparel was nothing sumptuous nor costly. It pleased him well to make feasts, he very carefully made choice of his guests, and oftentimes he sat down at the table a long time after every body, and would rise before others, which remained after he was up. In his ordinary diet he banished superfluity of meats: he delighted to be merry and pleasant among his friends, or to bring in pleasant players of comedies to pass the time away. And he did not tie himself to any certain hours to eat his meat, but when his stomach served him he took something. So that sometimes he supped not at all, and then when every man was go, he made them bring him meat, neither dainty nor delicate. Also he drunk very little wine, he slept in the day, and by times in the night, talking with some, or reading: so that oftentimes he slept not till the break of day, and for that he took no rest in the night, he might chance to sleep in his litter as they carried him in the streets in the day time up and down ROME. He was a goodly Prince, and that kept himself in good state from the beginning of his life to the latter end: not curious to set himself out, as little caring to be shaven, as to wear long hair: and in stead of a looking-glass, reading in his book, or writing, even whilst the Barber was trimming of him. Whether he spoke or held his peace, he had so comely a face, that many of his enemies bend to do him hurt, their hearts would not serve them so soon as ever they looked on him. He had very clear and lively eyes, but with time he was subject to many diseases and infirmities, the which he remedied with great care. As for his exercises, he left arms and horses immediately after the civil wars: for he was never any great soldier. He would play at tennis, at the ballone, he would go abroad in his coach to walk and stir himself. Sometimes he would go a fishing, or play at the bones, or at nuts with young children of the MOORS & SYRIANS that had some pretty manner and behaviour with them, and always spoke words to move laughter. He was learned in the liberal sciences, very eloquent, and desirous to learn: insomuch that during the war of MUTINY, in the midst of all his infinite affairs, he did read, he wrote, and made orations amongst his familiars. He never spoke unto the Senate nor people, nor to his soldiers, but he had first written and premeditated that he would say unto them, although he had speech at commandment, to propound or answer to any thing in the field. And because he would not deceive his memory, or loose time in superfluous speech: he determined ever to writ all that he would say: and he was the first inventor of it. If he had to confer with any man, or with his wife in any matters of importance: he would put that down in his writing tables, because he would speak neither more nor less. And he took pleasure to pronounce his words with a sweet voice and good grace, having continually about him for this purpose a fine man to frame his voice. But one day having a pain in his mouth, he made his oration to the people by an Herald. He made many books and verses of diverse sorts: but all is dead with time. His speech was as the rest of his life, eloquent, well couched together, and sententious. He delighted to read good authors, but he gathered nothing other than the sentences teaching good manners: and having witten them out word by word, he gave out a copy of them to his familiars: and sent them about to the governors of provinces, and to the magistrates of ROME and of other cities. He was somewhat, and too much given unto divinations: he was marvelously afraid of thunder and lightning: he had a great confidence in dreams, and in such like vanities. But peradventure we are too curious searching out his private life: yet that may sometime discover great personages more than their public actions, in the which they are more careful to frame their countenances, and do sergeant most.  
Now, as we have lightly run over his private life before spoken of: so shall the memorable deeds done by his authority be briefly represented: being unpossible to comprehend in a few lines so many notable things, unless a man would make a great book of them. This is to be noted in him, that so young a man having so small beginnings, coming out of a mean house in comparison of others, hath excelled all other young and old men in wisdom and greatness of courage: should rise so high, that before he had been Praetor the Senate gave him the name of Augustus, created him master of the horse, when as yet he never had charge of a company of men at arms: proclaimed him Emperor and sovereign captain, afore he had been placed in any public office by authority of the Senate. Furthermore, for the first time he was chosen Consul when he was but twenty years old: and he was thirteen times Consul, and twenty times called Sovereign captain. Afterwards, when he was not yet four and thirty years old, the Senate and people of ROME gave him this goodly name of father of his country, because he had maintained and preserved the commonwealth. It is a wonderful thing that he could wind himself out of so many great affairs and wars, that he could within four and twenty years of age, restore again into so good estate the commonwealth of ROME, turmoiled and troubled with so many proscriptions and civil wars as it was. And that afterwards so long as he commanded alone, he did so firmly establish this Monarchy, that notwithstanding the infinite troubles received under other Emperors, yet it stood upright and in so great prosperity for so many hundred years. After the death of julius Caesar, this man being but bore eighteen years old, came to ROME, where he was welcomed and immediately did contest with Antonius, hated of Cicero and of many others: from whence the advancement of this young Caesar came, and the declaration of the war against Antonius, judged an enemy of the commonwealth, and overcome by the Consuls Hirtius and Pansa. Caesar who was their associate, was called Sovereign captain, though he had not yet fought: both the Consuls being dead of their hurts. But the Senate after this overthrow, beginning to change their mind, he perceiving that they were slow to grant him the Consulship, resolved to possess it by force of arms, and began to acquaint himself with Antonius and Lepidus which were joined together: he made that the soldiers promised by oath the one to the other, that they would fight against none of Caesar's troops, & sent 400 men to ROME to ask for him, in the name of all the army, the office of Consul. They having delivered their charge unto the Senate, Cornelius the Centiner chief of this legation or ambassade, perceiving they would give him no present answer, casting up his cassock, & showing the Senate the pommel of his sword, said unto them: This shall do it, if you will not do it. So they being returned without obtaining their demand, Caesar made Antonius and Lepidus come into ITALY, & he for his part having passed the river of Rubicon, marched with 8 legions right to ROME. This put all ROME in such a fear, as they sent to Caesar to present him the Consulship: and twice so much in gift, as they had promised the legions. Now whilst the Ambassadors were on their way, the Senators beginning again to take heart to them, encouraged by the arrival of the legions of AFRICA, they determined to try all means before they would betray the liberty of their country, being minded to call back that which they had sent to Caesar, & so disposed themselves to make war. Caesar being offended with this inconstancy, sent certain horsemen before to assure the people that he would make no tumult at all: he drew his legions near, and made himself Lord of ROME without one stroke stricken: and contrariwise, the people and Senate received him with show of great joy. Than, in the assembly of all the people he was chosen Consul, just at the full accomplishment of twenty years of his age. So he demanded in the field that they should proceed criminally against those that had killed his father Caesar. Q. Pedius his fellow Consul published the decree. So were Brutus and Cassius, and all their friends condemned, with interdiction of water and fire. But for as much as Augustus had too small means to set upon Brutus and Cassius, he reconciled Antonius and Lepidus with the Senate, and made alliance with them, followed with great armies. They joined, and were in consultation of their affairs the space of three days together, near unto BOLONIA, or unto MUTINY, and as if the ROMAN Empire had been their own inheritance, they divided it between them three. So that Caesar had the high and base LYBIA, with SICILIA, and SARDINIA. SPAIN and GAUL NARBONNESE fell unto Lepidus: and the rest of GAUL was for Antonius. They did decree also that they should be called Trium-viri, appointed for the re-establishment of the commonwealth, with sovereign authority for five years, to dispose and give the estates and offices to whom they thought good, without ask advice of the Senate nor people. So they established Lepidus Consul for the year following, in the place of Decimus Brutus that was killed: and they gave him the guard of ROME and ITALY, so long as they two that remained made their preparations to go against Brutus and Cassius. Besides the presents they should make unto the soldiers after the victory, they promised to give them leave to ease themselves, & eighteen rich towns in ITALY for them to devil in. Than they began to set up a roll of all the citizens of ROME appointed by them to be slain. And they decreed to every free man that should bring the Trium-viri a head of the proscripts, the sum of two thousand five hundred crowns, and half so much unto the slaves with enfranchisement: and the like sum also to whosoever could discover any man that had hidden or favoured the proscripts. Antonius and Lepidus were thought to be the chief authors of this horrible tragedy: and Caesar seemed willing to none but to the murderers of his father, and did a long time oppose himself against the other two: but at the length he gave over, and they made wonderful changes, abandoning their own parents and friends the one to the other, to be revenged of their enemies. But when the sword was one drawn, he was no less cruel than the other two. Cicero was not forgotten, as we may see in his life: and it would be very hard to describe the wickedness of that time, the which like a furious stream carried away so many citizens of ROME. In whose history do appear most rare examples of all sorts of vices and virtues in all manner of persons: of whom we will make mention, after those that have written more at large: as amongst others, Appianus Alexandrinus: which will serve to show, how much a man is a furious beast, being lift up in authority in the commonwealth, and given to revenge. That there is nothing certain nor sure in man's prosperity, which bringeth much envy to his servants: as to the contrary adversity maketh the afflicted contemptible: and every body ashamed of them. But they are wise men, that in such tragical accidents do carry an invincible heart, resolutely obeying necessity, and a more high providence then that of man. We must not call that intolerable which may happen to great or mean men: for all human accidents are under the feet of virtue. It chanceth often, that force and wisdom do defend a man, as always these two virtues do preserve his honour. He is well advised that can finely pacify and divert the fury of an enemy: as to the contrary shame and despair do gripe cowards, slothful, and fearful. But in fine, necessity presseth on the one side, and danger on the other.  
So they did set up the names of the proscripts fastened in divers places of ROME, to the number of an hundred & thirty Senators for the first time, a hundred & fifty at the second time, and two thousand Knights. Than was the gate open to all villainies and cruelties, fought withal by patience and fidelity: but the examples will show that better than all the discourse a man can make. Saluius Otho, Tribune of the people, was one of the first. Having invited his friends to his last supper, a Centener came in, who in the presence of all his guests, half dead for fear, struck off his head. Minutius the Praetor was also killed, sitting in his seat of judgement. L. vilius Annalis, a man that had been Consul, being escaped out of the hands of the murderers, saved himself in the subburbes in a little house of one of his clients: but his own son having no patience to stay for the inheritance of his father, bewrayed him unto the soldiers who went to kill him there. Shortly after, this parricide being drunk had a quarrel with the self same soldiers, who stabbed him in with their daggers. C. Toranius was betrayed in like manner by his own son, who having consumed in a few days the succession which he had so execrably pursued, and being condemned for theft, was banished into a place where he died for want and poverty. Now against these wicked, let us set some virtuous children. Q. Cicero was hid by his son, whom they could never make confess (though he was tormented) where his father was: who, not able any longer to endure they should afflict so virtuous a son with so many evils for his sake, came and presented himself to the murderers. The son began to entreat them to kill him before his father: but they were both killed at one time. The Egnaces, father and son, one embracing the other, were both run through and slain at one blow. C. Hosidius Geta was buried for dead by his son: who saved him, sustained and kept him till it was peace. Arruntius, after he had comforted and strengthened his son, put himself to the swords of the murderers. The son died immediately after for grief, and famine. Some other children carefully saved and kept their fathers, and hide them. Certain women also showed themselves marvelous faithful and loving to their husbands: and so were there to the contratrary some unfaithful, that discovered their wonderful wickedness. Tanusia made such earnest suit, that she obtained grace of Caesar for T. junius her husband, who was hidden by Philopoemen his bondman enfranchised: whom Caesar knighted for his fidelity to his master. Q. Ligarius having been kept by his wife was discovered by a slave, and killed: wherefore his wife killed herself with famine. Lucretius Vespillo, having erred and run in great danger here and there, not knowing whither to fly: came secretly to his wife Thuria, and was hidden and kept close betwixt the ceiling and the top of the house, until she had obtained his grace of the Trium-viri. Apuleius was saved by his wife, who fled with him. The wife of Antius wrapped up her husband in coverlets, and made him be carried to the sea as a packet of stuff, where he embarked, and sailed into SICILIA. Coponius was saved by his wife, who put her honour aside in respect of her husband's life: for she lent her body one night unto Antonius to preserve him (which she did by that means) whom she loved better than herself. Now to the contrary, some women unfaithful to their husbands, delivered them into the hands of the murderers, because they might marry again. Among other, the wife of Septimius having shamefully given her body unto one of Antonius familiars: she caused her husband to be put in the number of the Proscripts, that she might more easily continued her adultery: and so was Septimius put to death. Q. Vettius Salassus, was hidden in a sure privy place: wherewith he acquainted his wife, but she strait revealed him to the murderers. The which he perceiving from a high place where he was, cast himself down headlong, choosing rather to die so, then to make his cruel wife pastime. Fuluius was discovered by a slave of his, and his concubine: jealous because he had married a wife, and had left her, although notwithstanding he had made her free, and had given her goods to live withal. Now let us presently speak of the faithfulness and unfaithfulness of slaves enfranchised. P. Naso was betrayed by his slave freed, with whom he had been too familiar. But he sold his death, for he killed the traitor with his own hands, and afterwards held out his neck to the hangmen. L. Lucceius had put into the hands of two of his slaves manumissed, as much as was necessary to have relieved him in his banishment: but they ran away with all, and he came and put himself to the slaughter. Haterius, that was in a secret place, was sold and discovered by a slave of his. Cassius Varus being bewrayed by a free man that was his slave, escaped nevertheless, and hid himself among reeds: where being found by those of MINTURNES, they took him for a thief, and would have racked him to have bewrayed his companions, he discovered himself to be a Senator of ROME: but they would not believe him, because he was in poor estate. But whilst they were reasoning of the matter, there cometh a Centener that struck off his head. C. Plotius was saved by his slaves: but being a man given to perfume and rub himself with odoriferous ointments, the sent and smell of them discovered him to the soldiers, that went ferreting up and down in his house: yet could they not found him, but cruelly tormented his servants, to make them confess where he was: which they would never do. But Plotius having compassion of the evils of his faithful slaves, came out of the place where he was hidden, and because he would prolong their life, he shortened his own, and presented himself to the murderers. Appius Claudius, as he was near to be had by the back, changed his gown with his slave, who went in that sort to present himself to the murderers: but they took off his head, and so he saved his masters head. Another slave of Menenius did the like: for he went into his masters litter, and offered his neck to the sword of the murderers: who dispatched him whilst his master got to the port of the sea, from whence he escaped into SICILIA. But the slave of Vrbinus Panopio is worthy of memory every where: for he hearing the murderers came to sack his master, took his masters gown from him and his ring, gave him his own, and put him out at the back gate. Than he goeth up into his masters chamber, and lay down upon his bed, where he boldly attended them that killed him for Panopio. Another showed himself no less faithful in the behalf of Antius Restio: for although his master had thoroughly thwacked him for his knavish tricks played a few days before, and that then it seemeth he had opportunity to be revenged: he to the contrary employed himself after a marvelous fashion to save his master: for he meeting with an old man in his journey struck off his head, and showing that with his whip together to the murderers, he made them easily believe that he had been well revenged of his master, with whom immediately after he saved himself in SICILIA. The slaves of Martius Censorinus kept him a long time, and so well that he had leisure to go to Sextus Pompeius. Q. Opius an honourable old man, and being almost at the pits brink, like to be killed, was rescued by his son, who having finely gotten him out of ROME, took him up on his shoulders, and afterwards led him into SICILIA, where all the poor distressed ROMANS' were gently received: for Pompeius had sent certain ships to keèpe upon the coast of ITALY, and pinasses every where, to the end to receive all them that fled on that side: giving them double recompense that saved a Proscript, and honourable offices to men that had been Consuls and escaped, comforting and entertaining the others with a most singular courtesy: many went into MACEDON to Brutus and Cassius: others into AFRICA to Cornificius. Some having escaped the tempest that was in the time of Sylla, were even glutted with this cruelty: as amongst others, M. Fidustius, and Lucius Philuscius. T. Labienus was one of the number of the murderers in the proscription of Sylla. Afterwards he did nothing else but go up and down with a soul possessed with furies: so that being weary of his life at this time, he went and sat in a chair at his gate, quietly attending that they should put him in the number of them that should be killed. Statius Samnis, an honourable Senator, being fourscore years old: because thieves should have no part of his goods, he left them in pray whosoever would take them: and afterwards set his house on fire, and burned himself within it. Aponius being kept a good while by his slaves, was so weary to be shut up in a troublesome place, and where he lived very poorly: that he came out to the market place, and held out his throat to the murderers. Cestius being possessed with the like grief, caused his slaves to make a great fire, and then cast himself in it. Sulpitius Rufus, a man that had been Consul died, because of an I'll of his the which he would not cell unto Fulvia: as also Ampius Balbus, for that he refused to give this woman a pleasant place of his. Balbus was betrayed by a servant of his, that shortly after was hanged upon a gibbet by sentence of the people: and so had his reward for his villainous fact. Antonius did put in the number of Proscripts a Senator called Nonius Struma, and only to get out of his hands an Emerode esteemed at fifty thousand crowns. But Nonius found the means to escape with this Emerode to the great despite of him that greedily desired this prey. Some valiantly defended themselves, as Atteius Capito, that killed many soldiers running rudely upon him, thinking he would have suffered himself to be killed as others were. Howbeit after he had sold his flesh dear, he was overcome by multitude of assailants. Vetulinus aided with his son, having many times valiantly repulsed the murderers, he would have saved himself in SICILIA: but in the strait he met with such a number of enemies, that there he was killed. Sicilius Coronas a Senator, was put in the number of Proscripts, because he would not with others condemn Brutus and Cassius: devising how to escape, he put himself in rank among those that carried a dead corpses to burial: but he was discovered and put to death. The Triumvirs appointed such men as they liked of to take charge of them that had been killed. They sold the goods of the Proscripts by the drum, at such price as the soldiers would: and yet the most part of them were spoiled and given away. They promised the widows their jointer, and to the sons the tenth part of the patrimony of their fathers, and to the daughters the twentieth part. Howbeit there were few, and in manner none, that had any benefit by that: but to the contrary, they sacked many that demanded such rights. On the other side, they did exact great sums of money upon the city of ROME, and over all ITALY: the owners were constrained to give the half of their yearly revenue: the tenants to furnish one years rend of that they held of others: the masters of houses, the half of the rent of their houses, according to the rent they went for. To encourage the soldiers, the Triumuiri gave unmeasurable gifts, granted them daily new pillage: the legions wintered in the richest towns, who were compelled to feed the soldiers at their own charge. Furthermore, all the rich men were constrained to pay in nature of a tribute at one time, the tenth part of all that they were worth. To be short, so that they could found out new inventions, it was enough to exact money. For the fear and custom to endure all, had fashioned men to be more slaves, than the murderers and exactors would have had them. And to close up all, the Triumuiri caused money to be coined: the which on the one side had the image of Antonius with an inscription in Latin, the effect whereof is this: M. Antonius Emperor, Augur, Triumuir, for the establishment of the commonwealth. And on the other side there were three hands joined together, with the marks of the Consulship, and had these words: Salus generis humani, that is to say: The health of mankind.  
Now during the cruelties of this triumvirate, Brutus and his followers made themselves strong in MACEDON, and did divers exploits of war: and were afterwards overcome in the fields PHILIPPIANS, as hath been said in the life of Brutus, which we need not rehearse again, the principal being comprehended there. After this victory, Antonius went into the East to dispose of his affairs in ASIA, and to levy money there to pay his soldiers, having promised to every one of them five hundred crowns. Caesar returned into ITALY to refresh himself, to assign Colonies to his soldiers, to pacify the troubles Lepidus had procured, and to set a pike betwixt him and Pompey at a need: if he were never so little in league with him. Caesar fell grievously sick at BRUNDISIUM: but being recovered again he entered into ROME, pacified all things, and kept Lepidus in his wont degree. But when he came to bring his soldiers into Colonies, than the storm began to rise: for the owners cried out that they were tyrannised, being driven out of their inheritances: the old soldiers they complained that promise was not kept with them. Fulvia and some others practised to set them on, to the end to draw a war into ITALY, and by this means to make Antonius come again besotted by Cleopatra. These things proceeded so far that Fulvia took arms, for she was then in the camp, her sword by her side, and commanded like a Captain. Caesar on the other side being angry, sent her daughter home to her, unto whom he was betrothed, and led his army against the NURSINIANS and SENTINATES the allies of Fulvia. In the mean space Lucius Antonius departed in the night with speed, and entered into ROME by treason: used it as a city taken in war, and drove out Lepidus. Caesar left Suluidienus to besiege the SENTINATES, returned to ROME, and drove out Lucius, followed him and shortened his journey as he was going into GAUL, shut him up, and besieged him a great time in PEROUSE, and compelled him through famine to yield himself, and to crave pardon, which he granted him. PEROUSE was burnt by a strange accident: for one of the chiefest of the city having set his house on fire, after he had wounded himself with his dagger, a boisterous wind being risen upon it, so dispersed the flames abroad, that it burned all the houses beside. Caesar caused some of his Captains to be killed that were against him. He condemned the NURSINIANS in a great sum of money, and because they could not pay it, he drove them out of their city and territory. Afterwards he suppressed some troubles raised in NAPLES by Tiberius Claudius Nero, father of Tiberius Caesar, and favourer of Fulvia: who seeing herself under foot, she fled unto ATHENS. But Caesar to prevent a new conspiracy, sent Lucius Antonius far from ROME, to command the legions that were in SPAIN: he gave him also commissioners to look into him, and to observe his actions. He finely drove out Lepidus also into AFRICA with six legions. On the other side Fulvia being dead, Caesar and Antonius agreed being ready to fight: after that they made peace with Pompey that governed SICILIA. Immediately after that he went into GAUL, to appease some troubles that happened there, and sent Agrippa before, who compelled the AQVITANS to submit themselves, and pacified all GAUL. On the other side Cneus calvinus subdued the CERETANIANS in SPAIN. And because the legions had committed certain insolences, whereupon they fell together by the ears, and the enemies had the better hand: after he had sharply reproved them, he took the tenth man of the two first bands, and belaboured jubellius with a cudgel. In the mean time Caesar sent at times troupsof men of arms into DALMATIA, and ILLYRIA, to the end to breathe them for other wars that were a hatching, as that of SICILIA was the first. For Menas the pirate, Sextus Pompeius Lieutenant, having for despite brought his fleet unto Caesar, and taken his part, unto whom also he delivered the Isles of SARDINIA and CORSICA, with three legions: Caesar did him great honours, & refused to deliver him again unto Pompey, who asked him of him. Besides that Pompey complained of Antonius, and pretending to have just occasions, he took arms again. Wherefore Caesar sent for Antonius and Lepidus out of GRECE and AFRICA to come and aid him. Antonius came to the haven of BRUNDISIUM: but upon the sudden, not known wherefore, he took sea again, & returned from whence he came. Lepidus came too late, which made Caesar (seeing all the weight fall on his arms) that he sent his Lieutenants against Pompey: who fought with them by sea & by land, & had the better, and put Caesar to great trouble, who had like to have been killed by a slave also, that would have revenged the death of his masters father, that was a proscript. After that Antonius being come to TARENTUM, with intention to make war against Caesar: Octavia sister of the one, and wife of the other, agreed them, so that they did yet prolong with Lepidus their triumvirate for five years more. Antonius went against the PARTHIANS, and Caesar prepared to set upon Pompey again. Hereupon Menas being angry for that he was not so well accounted of as he thought he deserved: he returned again to join with Pompey with 7. galleys. Caesar's fleet having sustained great hurt by tempest, was also beaten by Menas. Lepidus' won LILYBEE, & took certain neighbour villages. Caesar having repaired his ships and army by sea, and made it stronger than before under the conduct of Agrippa, who sailed unto LIPARE, he gave battle by sea unto Pompey's Lieutenants. But they being aided by Menas (that was returned the second time) he overcame and won thirty ships. But the other fleet that Caesar himself brought, was wholly overthrown by Pompey, near unto TAUROMENION, and Caesar brought to that extremity, that he was ready to kill himself. But Cornificius ran to the shore who saved him, and brought him to the camp: from whence he retired further off, and very quickly (but with great danger) unto MESSALA. After certain encounters where Pompey ever had the better, insomuch as Lepidus was suspected to lean on that side, Caesar resolved to commit all to the hazard of a latter battle: and to draw Pompey unto it, he cut him so short of victuals, that he was constrained to come to blows, and the fight was very cruel: wherein Agrippa bestirred himself so valiantly, that he won the victory, sunk 28. ships, brake and spoiled the most part of the rest, and took two of the chiefest Captains Pompey had: one of the which called Demochares, killed himself with his own hands. Now for Pompey, who but a little before had about three hundred and fifty sail, he fled away with all speed only with seventeen, and went to MESSINA so discouraged, that leaving all hope and his army he had by land, he went to the I'll of CEPHALONIE, where being somewhat come to himself, he determined to repair to Antonius. But Tisienus a Frenchman (his lieutenant of the army by land) led all his troops unto Lepidus: some GREEK historians report that it was to Caesar. Plemminius was within MESSINA with eight legions, and did capitulate with Lepidus to tender up the town to him: whereupon Agrippa happened to come thither: who maintained, that they aught to regard Caesar that was absent then. But that stood him in no stead, for Lepidus entered the town, & gave the spoil of it as well to Plemminius soldiers as to his. Thereupon Caesar undertook a thing worthy of memory, which was: that being unarmed he went into Lepidus' camp, & turning by the blows of the darts that were thrown at him by some, which hit his cloak & pierced it: he took hold of an ensign of a legion. Than the soldiers all of them armed followed him, and left Lepidus: who shortly after lost empire and army: he that with 20. legions promised himself SICILIA and a great deal more, Caesar gave him his life, and the office of sovereign Bishop of ROME, whither he sent him. Some say he was banished. Upon these stirs there rose a sedition in Caesar's camp through the insolency of the soldiers, that ran even to his judgement seat, using great menaces. But he wisely appeased all, punished the authors of the tumult, and did cassiere all the tenth legion with great shame and ignominy, because the soldiers of the same did outbrave him in words. He dispersed and sent some others to their houses, and gave unto them that had used themselves gently, two thousand Sesterces for every soldier: which is thought to amount near to fifty crowns. He made them to be mustered, and found that they were five and forty legions, five and twenty thousand horsemen, and six and thirty thousand lightly armed. Afterwards he did great honours unto his Lieutenant Agrippa for his notable service, and commanded Statilius Taurus to go into AFRICA to take possession of the Provinces of Lepidus. Whilst Antonius made war with the PARTHIANS, or rather infortunately they made war with him to his great confusion: his Lieutenant Titius found the means to lay hands upon Sextus Pompeius that was fled into the I'll of SAMOS, and then forty years old: whom he put death by Antonius' commandment: for which fact he was so hated of the people of ROME, that though he had given them the pastime of certain plays at his own costs and charges, they drove him out of the Theatre.  
Moreover, Caesar thinking to have sailed out of SICILIA into MAURITANIA, the sea being rough stayed him: which was the cause that he sent his army into ILLYRIA, and set upon the JAPUDES, which did him much mischief, yet at the last he overcame them. Than he ran upon the PANNONIANS, and the DALMATIANS, whom he made tributaries, being hurt in his thighs, in his arms, and in one of his knees, in this war against the ILLYRIANS. On the other side, Messala his Lieutenant fought against the SALASSIANS, dwelling in a valley environed with high mountains of the Alps: and after diverse overthrows, he made them subject to the Empire. And shortly after Caesar was chosen Consul the second time: but he resigned the office the same day unto Autronius Paetus, being about to make himself friends against Antonius: who being stayed about Cleopatra, gave his wife occasion to return from ATHENS to ROME. Now after the fire of enmity betwixt these two competitors had been a hatching a certain time: it stood either of them both upon to seek all the means to overthrow his companion. The strange proceed of Antonius in favour of Cleopatra hastened the war, whereupon followed the battle of ACTIUM, the flying of these wicked lovers, and the beginning of the Monarchy of Caesar, confirmed by the conquest of EGYPT, and the tragical death of Antonius and Cleopatra. The which we touch briefly, the whole being largely set down in the life of Antonius. They did great honours unto Caesar after these exploits. The memory of Antonius was condemned, and his statues maimed and thrown to the ground. A little before, M. Lepidus, son of the Trium-vir and of junia sister of Brutus, conspired against Caesar. But after they had discovered it, he was put to death by the wisdom of C. Maecenas a knight, and governor of ROME: his wife Seruilia killed herself, as Portio the wife of Brutus. After the utter overthrow of Antonius, Caesar took order for the affairs of the East parts, he made alliance with Herodes king of JUDAEA. He sent the king of the PARTHIANS son in hostage to ROME, until they should sand all the ensigns and standards they had won of Crassus and Antonius. He governed the affairs of ASIA, received into league and friendshid with him the kings of GALATIA, CAPPADOCIA, & PAPHLAGONIA: & he punished some others by fines, that were not his friends. He gave privileges to the cities of EPHESUS, of NICE, PERGAME, and BYTHINIA, to build temples in the honour of julius Caesar, of ROME, and of himself. He set the SAMIANS at liberty, and after he had taken order for all the rest, he went towards ITALY: where after he was arrived, it cannot be expressed with what great joy he was received of high and low, from BRUNDISIUM unto ROME. There he triumphed three days together, for the ILLYRIANS, for Antonius and for Cleopatra. He gave great presents unto soldiers, and besides the money that was made of the booty, and distributed by even portions, he gave every one fifty crowns a piece, the double to a Centener, and the triple to a Knight: and to every person among the people ten crowns, even to little children. He brought such store of gold and silver out of EGYPT (by him reduced into a province, and condemned to pay twenty millions of gold to the people of ROME for a fine) that he brought down usury from twelve in the hundred, to four: and made that land and houses were sold dear, where before the rich men had them almost for nothing. Furthermore, he brought in a marvelous change in all traffic: he also abolished all taxes and subsidies imposed by necessity of the civil wars. He cried down all strange coin, which were at too high a price for their law, and all through the iniquity of time. He lent out money for a time without interest, unto those that had means to make double profit of it. He would not receive the gold which the cities of ITALY sent him to make him crowns: but sent them it back again with his thanks for their good will. He gave the pastime of all manner of games and magnificent sights unto the people, such as they had never seen before. He made goodly feasts unto the Senators and Magistrates, and by a world of pleasures he appeased the sorrow of proscription, and of so many civil wars. Being occupied in these matters, letters came from Crassus Caesar's Lieutenant, advertising that he had subdued the BASTARNES, diverse people of MAESIA, of DACIA, and of THRACIA: that he had won seven or eight battles of them, that with his own hands he had killed the king of the BASTARNES, and had brought the king of GETESES to such extremity, that he killed himself. These news did increase the joy, and the triumph was granted to Crassus, and to Caesar also: who by decree of the Senate caused the temple of janus to be shut the third time, which had remained open the space of 200 years. At this time Caesar that was in his fift Consulship, numbered and mustered all the people of ROME, reform the Senate, the order of knights, the distribution of corn: and because of the great dearth that was then, he made come to be distributed to the people at a very mean price to some, & for gramercy to the poor. They that had been bound to the common wealth of too long a time, he discharged them, and burned their obligations. He confirmed the propriety of houses in strife betwixt them and the common wealth, if they had been in quiet possession any convenient time. And to assure all those that had adhered unto Antonins, & to keep them that they should no more give ear to any new rumours: he swore unto them in good faith that having taken Antonins coffers, he had burnt all the letters he found in them, and read not one of them. He set down an order for Custom, eased the customers that had been too much oppressed: also he restored the treasure again, and the augure of health. And by reason of that above named, he was called father of the country in open Senate: and at the same time he sent people to CARTHAGE, to set up the families of the Patricians, greatly diminished by the proscriptions and civil wars.  
The next year following, which was the 725 of the foundation of ROME, and the sixt of his Consulship: seeing all the wars appeased, peace established, arms laid down every where, the commonwealth in good strength, the laws honoured, justice in authority, the Senate in their ancient glory, & the people restored by him to their rights of assembly to choose their yearly magistrates, and to give out their commissions & charges according to their old custom: he began to reason the matter with himself, which of the twain was most profitable: either to keep (for the good of the state, and under the title of a Prince) the Empire which he had in his hands: or whether he should tender it up unto the people. He found himself grieved for that Antonius had oftentimes accused him of tyranny & unjust invasion: and on the other part also he apprehended the fury of the people, and the factions of ambitious men, which like the billows of the sea, would incontinently toss in horrible fashion this unconstant sea. Being thus perplexed, one day he took aside Agrippa and C. Maecenas, his two faithful friends, very wisemen and of great experience above all others: and prayed them to tell him plainly without flattery, what they thought of it, being resolved to follow that which should be most expedient for the good of the commonwealth. Agrippa by an ample discourse did counsel him to tender up to the people his principality and signiority. Maecenas was of the contrary opinion, & gave such counsel as Caesar followed, tempering both opinions, & made himself master in such sort that the people felt it not, but rather confessed that they needed such a Physician to raise them up again from the incurable maladies they were fallen into. He thanked both his friends, gave his niece Marcelia to be the wife of Agrippa, and did him new honours, proceedeth to a new review of the citizens of ROME: and is chosen Prince of the Senate by Agrippa, who was then his companion in the Consulship. Furthermore, assuring himself that so much good and honours as had been communicated to the small and great, would make them they should not much pass for their ancient dignity and liberty: and that the sweetness of the ease and rest they did enjoy, would make them forget all the good and evil past: he borrowed of his magnanimity the marvelous counsel that followeth. He resolved to discharge himself of the principality into the hands of all the Senate, to tender it unto the people: hoping that the Senate seeing his affection so to submit himself to the accustomed order, & not to seek a domination and government ill-willed, they would thank him the more: that all the great persons would lay aside the envy which they might bear unto him, and that the people would esteem and love him so much the more. Upon this thought, and after he had acquainted some of the Senators withal that stood affected to him, to the end to win others by their means, he made an oration in open Senate, well studied, and fit for the time. Having made a long discourse of the great extent of the Empire, and of his insufficiency: he added unto it, that this common burden could not be carried but by the immortal gods: that he had continued some years to manage a part of it, and that experience had made him know that his shoulders were too weak to bear such a burden as the principality, subject to infinite changes, and exposed to a thousand ambushes. He therefore required, the city being furnished with so many noble persons, that the affairs might be managed by many men, who joining themselves together, might more easily satisfy the charges, than one alone: that in a good hour, having set all things in good estate again, he did put the common wealth into the hands of the Senate and people of ROME. This oration diversly moved the Senators. Some of them thought there was more art than truth in it. Others judged that it was not expedient to put the estate into the power of many. The most of them enriched and made great by Caesar, and that were risen up by the ruins of their country, said: that they should prefer that which now they had in hand, before all the time past, beaten with so many tempests. Many others inclined to that side, not that they were in good earnest of that mind, but for fear to be looked upon with an evil eye, if they did speak against their companions. So then all of them with one consent unadvisedly, rather than of a common and ripe judgement, began to beseechand adjure Caesar, that it would please him to be chief and preserver of the Empire, of the which he had set down so many goodly and happy foundations. Immediately they ordain that Caesar's guard should have twice as much pay as they had before. Agrippa was of opinion that they should casseere the SPANISH guard, and Caesar in their place should choose a guard of ALMAINS, knowing well that in those great bodies there was little malice hidden, and less subtlety: and that they were a people that took more pleasure to be commanded, then to command.  
He being thus established in his Empire by the consent of the Senate and people, to the end they should not think he would lift himself up above measure, or to give sure footing to a perpetual Monarchy: he would not accept the charge to provide for the affairs of estate, and the government of the Provinces, but for the space of ten years: with condition to give up his charge before this term, if things were sooner settled in their full estate. First therefore, he left a part of the Provinces unto the Senate and people, to take care for the government of the same: and for himself he kept those that were not yet in order, and in the which he should be driven to make war. In those that were quiet, he established Proconsul's: and for others, he governed them by his Lieutenants, which had their lesson, according unto the which they were bound to be directed. Among other laws they were forbidden to levy any money, or to gather men of war together, or to assail any Province, without the commandment of the Senate, or of Caesar. That forthwith when they sent any successor, they should leave their government, and repair to ROME within three months. He appointed also unto the Proconsul's a certain sum of money to bear their charges for their horse and carriage of the stuff. Furthermore he established a law that the Proconsul or governor should not go to his Province appointed him, till the end of five years after his commission granted him: to the end that they which were convinced for taking of money corruptly, should pay to the Provinces the fine they should be condemned: in and he deprived them of all estates and honours, which through their evil behaviours had been condemned in such fines. And further, he would not that the officers that had to deal in his affairs should have any authority, but to demand their stipends and money which the Provinces were bound to furnish. And because he would beautify and adorn ROME, as the majesty of the Empire required: he raised up many common buildings, and repaired many that had been left unfinished or ruined, leaving the names of the founders. His buildings among other were the temple of Apollo in the palace, with the porch, and a library of GREEK and Latin books. Also the Monuments, and the park, for the walks and pleasure of the people of ROME. In his seventh Consulship, certain Senators propounded that they should call him Romulus, for that he having preserved the city of ROME, it was as much bound unto him, as unto the first founder. But he would not accept of that name. Wherhfore Munatius Plancus bethought himself of another, the which was given unto him by common consent of all, and he held it to his death: as also we will call him from henceforth in all that remaineth to be set down of his deeds: to wit Augustus. He not to seem unworthy of this name, and to carry himself so that no man should repent this change of government, began diligently to set his hand to these affairs. He wisely reform the ancient laws, and made new, that were very necessary. To make sure work in these affairs, he chose from six months to six months fifteen Senators that had been Consuls, and did privately acquaint them with all that was requisite to be done for the preservation of the quietness of the commonweath, giving order that nothing should pass but it should be searched and examined to the bottom: saying that he would give the people laws which they should all allow, and that he would not be his own judge alone. Afterwards he reform the assemblies of the city, where all things were carried by suits, presents, and violence. He then restored the people their right by voices to choose the magistrates. And to cut off all suits, he forbade them to make any roll of suitors names, but of those that had laid down great sums of money, to the end that being convinced of their suits, they should be put to their fines: adding also this ignominy, that such should be deprived of all estates & honours for the space of five years. And furthermore, he finely hindered the bad practices in elections, giving order that none should be put in nomination, but such as were virtuous and of good reputation. He left unto the Magistrates their charges whole, and did always require in all his Consulships that they should give him two companions: howbeit the Senate would never agreed unto it. The year before, he had reduced the number of Senators to six hundred, all honourable men. At that time also he re-established the ancient order and dignity: ordaining that the Senate should have the superintendency of the treasure, and of all the revenues that belonged to the people of ROME. That all the expenses for the commonwealth should be made by their ordinance. That the Senators should have the hearing of all crimes of treason, conspiracy, ambushes, and offences to his majesties person: and that it should pertain to them to give entertainment and answer that should be fit, to Ambassadors of nations. When in matters of importance he asked the advice of the Senate, in stead of coming to the Prince of the Senate according to the accustomed manner, or to him that was appointed Consul, or to other Senators by order: he made choice of any one of them which he thought good, to the end that every one should give attentive ear, and be ready to deliver his opinion: and not to hold his head down in his rank, and content himself to be of other men's minds. He ordained also, that the whole body of the Senate should not assemble but from fifteen days to fifteens days: howbeit that in ordinary matters the magistrates should think of that that were expedient. In the months of September and October, the Senators were not bound to meet, but only four hundred drawn by lot: who might establish any decree. And as for himself, to honour this company the more, the day of the assembly he never saluted any of the Senators apart, but all of them together in the counsel chamber when they were set, and all of them name by name, the one after the other. If he would go out, and that he said he would detain the company no longer: he bade them farewell in the same manner that he had saluted them at his coming in. He ruled justice also civil and criminal, and willed that amongst other things the criminals accused by certain enemies, should be set at liberty: with condition notwithstanding that they should be brought to prison again, if the accuser did submit himself to receive the like punishment as the offender, if it were found he slandered him. Moreover, he made provision for common works, and reparations of bridges, causeyes, and high ways. And because he was determined to make a voyage into GAUL, he established Messala governor of ITALY and of ROME, for fear lest any trouble should happen in his absence. But this place being troublesome unto Messala, he besought Augustus he would discharge him: and therefore Agrippa was substituted, who rid all ITALY of a great number of thieves and robbers on high ways, and stayed the courses of many other troublers of the state.  
The affairs of ROME and ITALY being in so quiet estate, understanding that ENGLAND was full of sedition, SPAIN next unto the mountains PIRENEI in arms, and GAUL ready to rise: he opened the temple of janus, and took his journey to give order for all. But the Ambassadors of ENGLAND prevented him, and promised tribute. Than he went to GAUL in NARBONE, to draw nearer to SPAIN. And so holding on his journey to NARBONE, he pacified the GAULES, he made an exact numbering of all the GAULES, of their goods, possessions, and slaves, and caused the rolls to be brought unto him. He established laws and customs in every place, and divided GAUL into four parts: of the which the first part was called NARBONENSE, which extendeth itself from the river of Var, unto the mountains PIRENEI. AQVITAIN the second, unto the river of GARONNE. The third, GAUL LYONNOISE, unto the river of Seine. Than GAUL BELGICA, bordered with the river of Rhein: and rated all the GAVIS at ten million of gold for a tax. Now there remained no more for him to do, but to bring SPAIN to order: in the which the ROMANS' had made continual wars the space of 200 years together. Nevertheless the CANTABRIANS and ASTURIANS (which are the BASQVES) and other people neighbours dwelling in the mountains, they neither cared for Augustus, nor for the Empire: for they were ever in arms, and made incursions upon the allies of the people of ROME, and did them great mischief: who complaining unto Augustus of the great necessity they were brought unto, he being near unto them, came to aid them: and found the CANTABRIANS besieging of a fort, having taken the town by it called SAGESAME. He charged them home with such fury, that he left them dead in the place, after they had valiantly defended themselves. Afterwards he divided his army into three parts, and environed the country of the CANTABRIANS, who made head for the space of five years, and did marvelous great hurt to the ROMANS': and if the straits whereby they might easily enter into their country, had not been discovered unto Agustus, they had sent him home again to ROME with shame. But having found the way to surprise them on every side, he made a cruel war upon them, putting all to fire and blood. They retired with speed to one of their highest mountains, with all that they could carry with them. The ROMANS' perceiving that it was too hard a match for them, if they should go thither to set upon so warlike a nation, and that could not be subdued by force: they made forts in the midst of the mountain, and placed a strong guard there, to the end to famish the CANTABRIANS, and by that means to bring them to reason. But they on the other side, in stead of yielding themselves, did abide all the miseries that any man can possibly think of: and it came to that pass, that even to sustain nature the strong sons killed their old fathers, the mothers their infants, and the young men did devour the old to eat up their flesh. Upon this evil, there followed another, to wit, discord among them. Some would yield, others were of another mind. The former alleging, that they must needs submit themselves to the mercy of the ROMANS': the other, that they should make a desperate sally upon the enemy's camp, and so cell their lives. Their contention waxed so hot and violent, that the CANTABRIANS thrust out ten thousand of the ASTURIANS with their wives and children, and compelled them to descend alongst the forts made by the ROMANS': whom they entreated with the tears in their eyes to make them slaves, and to give them somewhat to eat. Tiberius then one of Caesar's Lieutenants, would not suffer them to be received, to the end to famish the one by the other, and to end this war without any bloodshed. This poor people being deprived of sustenance and hope, and being afraid they should yet endure greater evils, began to powne a venomous herb like unto Smallage, and poisoned themselves. The young men killed themselves running one against another with their swords in their hands. The others, to the number of three and twenty thousand came down in a most miserable estate from the top of the mountain, and yielded themselves to the discretion of the ROMANS': who set aside ten thousand of the strongest of them, to serve them in the war which they intended to make against the ASTURIANS. The rest were sold by troops, with condition that they should be carried far from their country, and that they should not be made free, before they had served them as slaves the space of thirty years. They disarmed ten thousand of them: which they bore so impatiently, that many killed themselves with their own hands, esteeming their life nothing without arms. They say, that a little child with a dagger killed his father and brethren that were chained together, and that by the commandment of the father: and that a woman did the like to some of her kinsfolks. And that many of these mountainers accustomed to rob passengers, being upon the gibbet, sang out songs aloud, even at their deaths, showing a joy and marvelous courage. Augustus' being then in those parts, gave leave to the soldiers of his guard of SPANIARDS to departed into the territory of the GASCONS with great presents, and privilege to enter in rank amongst the ROMAN legions. He built SARAGOUSSE, and other towns which he replenished with soldiers, to bridle the courses and tumults of the CELTIBERIANS: and afterwards made a stone bridge over the famous river of Eber. Than having overthrown the CONISCES, friends of the ASTURIANS, taken their head city, and put all the inhabitants thereof to the sword: he set upon the ASTURIANS, who being environed of all parts, and choosing rather to die then to be made slaves: burnt, killed, and poisoned themselves, and with them many other of their neighbours. There were some of them yet left alive, with whom the CANTABRIANS joined and other their neighbours, and that a long time. These people had this custom, that all goods were common amongst friends, and when one of them came to the other, he received and used him as himself: and so also in adversity they ran one fortune, or else killed themselves immediately after their friends were dead. Among them were certain lose people gathered together out of divers parts, who resolved all together to go charge the ROMANS', and came to fight with such a fury, that nothing but the night could separate them, having lost many of both sides. The next morning they began to join again with more violence than before, and the fight continued even till night that the ROMANS' obtained the victory: but they confessed that they never encountered with such cruel enemies. They that were left alive fled into a town, in the defence whereof they made themselves all to be killed, rather than to yield themselves. Augustus' built certain places there in that country, which afterwards by time were much enlarged. In this self same year of his ninth Consulship, Terentius Varro his Lieutenant subdued the SALASSIANS, which are those of the vale of HOST: he disarmed them, sold the young men by the drum, gave part of the territory unto the soldiers Pretorians, & built there a city called AUGUSTA PRETORIA. Vinicius also appeased some troubles in GERMANY, and made war very fortunately in divers places. By means of which victories, Augustus was called the eighth time Imperator, as much to say, as sovereign Captain: and they suffered him to wear from that time forth the first day of the year, a hat of Laurel, and a rob of triumph. At his return he shut the temple of janus the fourth time, married Cleopatra, (the daughter of Antonius and Cleopatra) unto juba the Storie-writer, overthrown by julius Caesar in AFRICA, with a part of MAURITANIA and of GETULIA to reign there. He reduced into a province GALLOGRECIA and LYCAONIA, which made a portion of a kingdom: and by reason of his sickness not able to be present at the marriage of his daughter julia, whom Marcellus married, the son of Octavia his sister: he left all to the charge of Agrippa, and went to ROME. There being chosen Consul the tenth time, the Senate gave him absolute power over the estate and laws, to make and undo them at his pleasure. They did him greater honours than before, and gave Marcellus his nephew before his time great offices in the commonwealth: and to Tiberius his wives son. He in token of thankfulness, gave to every one of the people ten crowns apiece. Whilst these matters were in hand, the CANTABRIANS and their neighbours revolted, by subtlety caught some of the ROMANS, and cut their throats. Aelius Lamia, governor in those parts, to be revenged of this outrage, put all the whole country to fire and blood, destroyed some towns, and sold their young men by the drum. To be short, he followed them so hard, that he brought them in subjection. Aelius Gallus governor of EGYPT, almost about the same time, being sent by Augustus' commandment with ten thousand men, five hundred soldiers of Herod's guard, and fifteen hundred NABATEIANS: under the conduct of a noble man of ARABIA called Syllaeus: he did nothing to be accounted of, but discover the country. But having lost the most part of his men within the deserts where this Sylleus brought them, and overcome the SABEANS in a battle, he was enforced to retire. Afterwards this Sylleus, for that he killed his king Oboda by treason, he was taken prisoner, and beheaded by decree of the Senate.  
Augustus' being Consul for the eleventh time, the plague was in ROME, and for himself he was grievously sick: but restored again to health by Antonius Musa his Physician. The people therefore caused a statue to be set up to this Antonius, the Senate did him great honours, and in favour of his profession, gave immunity to all others that from that time forth did practise Physic. Furthermore, by many ceremonies they did show the joy they had for the health of Augustus: and specially fathers of household dying, expressly commanded their children to bring their sacrifices to the Capitol with a title in great letters, saying: THAT AT THE DAY OF THEIR DEATH THEY LEFT AUGUSTUS IN GOOD HEALTH. It was also ordained that from that time forth they should never put any man to death, as often as Augustus entered into the city. Shortly after he did associate with himself Calpurnius Piso in the Consulship, who had followed the party of Pompey and of Brutus. Afterwards when he was go from ROME into the country, he made Lucius Cestius his deputy for him, an inward friend of Brutus and of his memory. Whereof the Senate marveling, by decree made him perpetual Proconsul of the ROMAN Empire, Tribune of the people, and gave him power to assemble the Senate as often, and when it pleased him. The people would have compelled him to have been Dictator: but he bowing a knee, casting down his long rob, and showing his breast, besought them to discharge him of so odious an estate. In the mean time he accepted the decree of the Senate, and the charge to 'cause corn to be brought in, because of the dearth that chanced in ROME. In the which he served his turn by Tiberius created Quaestor at the age of nineteen years. As for Marcellus his nephew, he was chosen Aedilis Curulus, who aided him to set forth all the magnificent pomp of plays, which he caused to be played before the people: every man judged that he should be the successor of all his power. But this young man of great hope, died shortly after, to the great grief of every man: and no man can tell whether it was of natural sickness, or of poison given him by the practices of Livia. A little before his death, Agrippa impatient to bear the rising of this Marcellus whom he despised, went into ASIA under colour of another voyage. They say that Augustus much troubled with sickness, returned to his first consultation, to put the commonwealth again into the hands of the Senate and people: and for this cause he called for the Senators and all the the other magistrates: unto whom he gave an account of the Empire: and that was a little book containing the numbering of all the riches, towns, and provinces allies, legions, armies by sea and by land, of all the kingdoms and countries tributary, of all the customs of the Empire of ROME, that which was necessarily to be levied or released. But being somewhat amended again, he changed his mind. And furthermore, having given audience to the ambassadors of Phrahartes king of the PARTHIANS, which demanded a son of his brought by Tyridates unto Augustus: he sent back the child, & suffered Tyridates to remain at ROME, where he sumptuously entertained him. By this means he kept himself in friendship with the one and the other, and held the PARTHIANS in suspense, to the end they should altar nothing. At the beginning of the next year following, under the Consulship of M. Claudius Marcellus, and of L. Arruntius, the famine increasing at ROME, he wisely provided for it. And then the people would constrain him by force to accept the Dictatorship, and threatened to set the palace on fire and to burn all the Senators in it, if they refused to allow this decree. He would none of the office of Dictatorship, and did refuse also to be Censor, although that office had been voided the space of 28. years. But forasmuch as Munatius Plancus and Aemilius Lepidus, who were chosen Censors, deserved themselves to be censured, because of their discords, Augustus without the name took upon him to discharge it: and provided to reform infinite disorders that were in ROME, in apparel, countenances, companies, and in the fight of Fencers at the sharp. At the same time Fannius Caepio, & L. Muraena having conspired against him, and being discovered by Castricius, they were taken as they thought to have escaped, & put to death. In the mean time the ASTURIANS and CANTABRIANS ill entreated by Carisius, they rebelled, but were overcome in a set battle, and the prisoners sold. The CANTABRIANS preferring death before servitude, they killed, burnt, and poisoned the one the other. The ASTURIANS being overcome the fourth time, did submit themselves: and their arms were taken from them. In the same time, Petronius governor of EGYPT, followed with 10000 footmen, and with 800. horse, went to make war with the ETHIOPIANS, which devil under EGYPT, who had invaded and ruined certain towns, overthrown and carried away the statues of Augustus. Thereupon he pursued them, and made them fly before him: took certain places upon them, and pierced far into their country: so that he enforced their Queen to sand her ambassadors unto Augustus (then wintering in the I'll of SAMOS) to pray peace, which he granted them paying tribute.  
At the beginning of the Spring, he prepared himself to give order for the affairs in the East: but because they that bent themselves for the Consulship, had almost put the city in alarm, and that in the end notwithstanding the order he had set down, the people had chosen men whom Augustus feared: through the advice of Maecenas, he made Agrippa come again to govern ROME in his absence, and married his daughter julia unto him, Marcellus widow. Now whilst Agrippa gave order for the affairs of the city, Augustus took sea, and having provided for the affairs of SICILIA, he went into GRECE, did much good for the LACEDÆMONIANS, and to the contrary, repressed the pride of the ATHENIANS, from whom he took away the tribute they had levied of the Isles of AEGINA and ERETRIA. In the mean time, though he made little account of strangers ceremonies, yet he made himself to be received into the fraternity of mysteries: and the ambassadors of PERSIA having caused the temple of jupiter Olympian to be finished begun of long time in ATHENS: they ordained that it should be dedicated to the spirit of Augustus. Being passed from thence into ASIA, he gave order to his provinces and those of the people of ROME: punished the CYZICENIANS, that had killed the ROMAN citizens in their town. He imposed a tribute upon those of Tyre and SIDON, who had dealt badly, and brought them into the form of a province. He did much good unto the towns that had been faithful unto the commonwealth: to some of them he gave the right of Burgesship of ROME, and to others the same rights and privileges which the natural citizens of ROME had. He built up again the cities of LAODICEA, and of THIATIRA: he set up them of the Isle of CHIO again, afflicted before by an earthquake, he did exempt them from all subsidies for six years. He restored certain Realms unto their kings whom he had subdued: or else he did establish others anew, who came to attend him at his Court as subjects, without any signs or tokens of royal dignity. He sent Tiberius into ARMENIA, to install Tigranes unto his royal throne again, having been driven out of it. Tiberius' returned thither, and having fought with the ARMENIANS, he gave them Artavasdes for their king, who ruled not long. Phraates king of the PARTHIANS being afraid they would set upon him: was very careful to get all the ROMANS' together, which were taken after the overthrow of Crassus and Antonius, whom he sent every man of them unto Augustus, with all the standards and ensigns, and also his son and nephews for pledges of his faithful friendship unto the people of ROME. Augustus' granted him peace, and then he came into the I'll of SAMOS, comforted RHODES, replenished CORINTH and PATRAS with a great number of men enfranchised, whom he made Burgesses of ROME. In this place also there came unto him ambassadors from Porus and Pandion, two of the mightiest kings of the INDIAN'S, who prayed alliance and friendship with him, and brought him very rare presents. There came with them a philosopher of INDIA called Zarmanus: who being brought to the city of ATHENS, he burned himself alive, as one Calamus did in the time of Alexander the Great.  
In this mean space the city of ROME was full of great trouble by the practices of Egnatius Rufus, who by force would needs be chosen Consul in Augustus' place being absent: who gave not him his voice, but named Lucretius Vespillo, escaped from the proscription, as hath been spoken of before. But this put him in such a rage, that he conspired with M. Genucius, and Plautius Rufus to kill Augustus. But they being discovered betimes, they were imprisoned and executed by decree of the Senate: who made infinite numbers of honours unto Augustus at his return: howbeit he would not accept them all, but carried himself very modestly in every place where he was. The people chose him Censor for five years, and perpetual Consul: and at his request they granted triumph unto Cornelius Balbus, although he were no ROMAN born (for he was a SPANIARD) by reason of his notable victories he had obtained, as Lieutenant of Augustus, upon the GARAMANTES. Agrippa on the other side was sent into GAUL troubled by the invasions of the GERMANS, whom he ordered well enough. Than he led his army into SPAIN, troubled with the rebellion of the CANTABRIANS: the which came thus to pass. The prisoners CANTABRIANS whom they had sold by the drum: by a complot they made together, cut their masters throats, and then fled into their country, where they solicited others to take arms, got their fortresses into their hands, and set upon the ROMAN garrisons. Agrippa could by no means bring his soldiers thither, whether that they deserved to take rest, or that the resolution of the CANTABRIANS did astonish them. But after that he had brought them to his hand, he marched directly against the enemies: who had the better at the first encounter, and the ROMANS' were well beaten. But they being rebuked and punished by Agrippa, who gave them barley for wheat, he returned again to fight. But then the CANTABRIANS that bore arms were all cut in pieces, the rest disarmed, and drawn from the mountain to devil in the plain. Augustus was saluted Emperor, or sovereign Captain, because of this victory: but Agrippa modestly refused triumph, and within a while after he overcame the PANNONIANS also. The year following, the GETESES and DACES being at civil wars, Lentulus that had subdued them before, counseled Augustus not to loose this occasion: for he might easily subdue these barbarous people being thus divided. But Augustus not being of the mind to make any wars at all with any nation, without great and just cause, (although there were more hope of gain, than appearance of loss,) he answered: There was no cause for him to do so: adding also, that those that sought a little gain with great loss and danger, were like unto those that would angle with a golden hook, the which breaking and falling into the water, no fish is worth the value of it. And therefore that the barbarous were to be left to their own miseries: and that by their bloodshed, by their own companions, they were more then enough punished for the ills they had done the ROMANS', who aught not to begin first to do evil.  
In the same year Augustus being very desirous to put his hand to the reformation of abuses in ROME, and that effectually: he joined with him his nephew Agrippa in the state of a Censor, and did establish him Tribune for five years. First of all he began to correct some disorders that were in the Senate, he reform the knights, spectacles, and plays, and the manner of suits for public offices. He set fines upon their heads that would not marry, and bestowed much upon them that had wives and children. He gave unto Hortensius Hortalus five and twenty thousand crowns, to procure him to take a wife, that he might raise up issue to that noble house and family of the Hortenses. He ordained also that maidens should be twelve years old at the lest before they married, and suffered them to kill adulterers taken with the fact, without punishment: condemning the Sodomites without remission. And for military discipline, he looked very carefully unto that. And because a knight of ROME had cut off his own sons thumbs, for that he should not go to the war: he made him to be sold by the drum and all his goods. But because the Regrators were greedy to seize upon them, he made them cease the sale, and put the knight into the hands of one of his bondmen enfranchised, and was contented to drive him out of ROME. Furthermore he procured that the Senate should not be kept but with great reverence: that the Senators should come together as into a temple of devotion, and that no decree should pass, but in the presence of 400. Senators if it might be: that no man should be made free of ROME, but upon great consideration. For the rest: he and Agrippa gave the people the pleasure of secular yearly games, which had not been seen a hundred years before. But he took very great care that there should be no insolences committed. He punished the players in divers sorts, that behaved themselves more licentiously than become them. And when one of them amongst them called him Lord, he showed the people with his voice, his eyes, and his hand, that he was not well pleased withal: and the next morning he published a sharp Edict, forbidding all persons expressly to say so, and would never suffer that any of his should give him this name. But these plays being ended, he adopted Caius and Lucius the sons of Agrippa. In all this great business, the SICAMBRES, VSIPETES, & TENCHTERES, people of GERMANY, surprised certain ROMANS in their territory, hanged them up, passed over the Rhein, spoiled GAUL, overthrew certain horsemen, and following their purpose, overcame M. Lollius Proconsul of GAUL, and took away an ensign from him. Yet though he were a man of small action and very covetous: nevertheless he was revenged of them, and coming upon the inuadors, fought with them, and drove them beyond the Rhein. On the other side, C. Lentulus made war with the DACES, & killed three of their chief leaders with a great number of men: and afterwards he established a garrison by the river of Danuby, to stop the incursions of this wild nation. Augustus' seeing these troubles, disposed of the affairs of ITALY to go into GAUL, to rid himself of these griefs, & by his absence to make his presence more honourable. At that same time, divers people inhabiting upon the river of Danuby rebelled: but Augustus' Lieutenants bestirred them so well, that they were all compelled to seek peace. At that time also all GAUL was in commotion, and that in divers sorts. But the covetousness of Licinius Enceladus, made free, and solicitor of the affairs of Augustus, was cause of all this mischief. For he having commanded the people to furnish the tribute for every month, he had put fourteen months in the year for twelve. So being accused to his master for money ill gotten, although all the world cried out of him, yet he found the means to escape well enough. For after he had gotten an infinite mass of gold and silver togther, he brought it to Augustus, saying, he had never other intention but to take from the GAULES the means to rebel. For all this Augustus withdrew him from thence, and sent Tiberius thither to settle all things in good estate again. Almost during these commotions, and outrageous dissensions, the RHETIANS, near unto the lake of Come, they broke into GAUL, CISALPINE, and took out of ITALY store of boot. They were a people separated from all others, and so cruel, that having taken any place from the ROMANS', they killed all the male children, and further, did ask their soothsayerss of women with child: and if they said she was great with a boy, they presently ran her through, and killed her and the fruit of her womb. Augustus would not endure these outrages, but sent Drusus the son of Livia against them: who drove them out of ITALY, having overcome them in a set battle, near unto TRENT. They say that their women showed themselves so cruel in this fight, that their darts failing them, they took their little children by their legs, and did most barbarously force themselves to smite their enemies in the face. Those that were driven out of ITALY would have entered into GAUL, but they were repulsed by Tiberius. In the end, these people and their allies were constrained to submit themselves.  
Augustus' senta Colony unto NISMES in LANGVEDOCKE: and made them free Burgesses of ROME. It is thought that he sent another unto ARLES, of the sixtlegion: and one of the second unto ORANGE. Some make report of these Colonies in the time of Tiberius. M. Agrippa on the other side, he gave order for the affairs of ASIA, and of all the Orient, where he behaved himself so well, that all that were friends to the people of ROME, were of better courage than before, and all their enemies so valiantly suppressed, that Augustus was saluted the tenth time sovereign Captain. But Agrippa after his wont manner, he would have no triumph: which was the cause of the loss of this custom, and following his example, were contented from thenceforth with the ornaments of triumph. But of another side, the PANNONIANS, the GENOVESES, and those of PIEDMONT rebelling, they were subdued by the Lieutenants of Augustus: who builded two cities in testimony of his victory against these two last people: whereof TURIN (called Augusta Pretoria) was one, and GENVA the other.  
Augustus' having pacified GAUL, stayed the invasions of the GERMANS, and quenched the rebellion of SPAIN: he left Drusus with authority and his army upon the Rhine, and came to ROME as Agrippa did out of ASIA, and become extremely sick of the gout. Lepidus he died at the same time, to whom Augustus succeeded in the estate of chief Bishop, and made sumptuous spectacles and sights unto the people. He burned all the books of divination and prophecy, except those of the Sibylles: and yet he kept them not all. He reform the Calendar, and ordained that there should be no leap years for twelves years following. He suffered that the sixt month than called Sextilis, should be called Augustus after his name. All that year was spent in plays and pastimes, saving that Augustus (having been sick) caused all that he had done in his government to be rehearsed before the Senate. He took a review of the Senators, and confirmed his nephew Agrippa in the estate of a Tribune for five years more. But shortly after, this great person being returned from a journey out of PANNONIA, whither he was go to prevent disorders that were likely to be renewed: he fell sick and died, before Augustus could come in time. That was a marvelous grief unto him: and not knowing now on whom he should bestow his daughter julia, in the end he chose Tiberius his wives son, and married them together: but they continued not long in good terms together. From thenceforth Tiberius and Drusus dealt almost in all the affairs of war, and Tiberius especially after the death of the other: of whom we shall speak to best purpose in the life of Tiberius, yet we will briefly note it here. So then Tiberius went and made war in PANNONIA, risen by means of the death of Agrippa: yet he made an end of it, killed some of them, sold and subjecteth the rest: and compelled all that people to submit themselves unto the people of ROME. Drusus on the other side made war in high and low Almain, and brought the most part of these nations unto some reason: and afterwards he returned to ROME. Where Augustus held so strait a hand to bring the Senate to order, that there were few men desired to be of the Senate: and many to the contrary that gave up their offices. But Augustus compelled those that were of age, of quality and sufficiency, and gave order also that the dignity of the Tribunes of the people should remain entire: suffering those notwithstanding which had this office, their time expired, to be amongst the Senators, or with knights. As for the towns of ASIA afflicted with the earthquake, he paid of his own to the commonwealth, the yearly tribute which they aught. And for the regard of those which were of his Provinces, he freed them from all impostes for six years, and gave them of PALESTINE a great quantity of corn, which sustained great want and famine. In the mean time Drusus passed over the Rhein, made war with the VSIPETES, SICAMBRIANS, TENCHTERES, CATTIANS, CHERUSIANS, and SVAUBIANS, whom he overthrew in divers encounters: and especially in a great battle, where were killed a very great number. For these people were gathered together with such a confidence of victory, that they had already made agreement among themselves for division of the booty. But specially at the last battle, the CHERUSIANS should have the horse, the SVAUBIANS they should have the baggage, and the SICAMBRIANS the prisoners. And yet to bind themselves more straightly together, they burned twenty Centeners' of the ROMANS'. And this was the cause that the battle was so long and cruelly fought betwixt them: yet in the end the victory remained to Drusus, who gave the prisoners and all the booty to the soldiers, making the horse, baggage, and captives to be sold to them that would offer most. All the field for a great league and a half of length was strawed with dead bodies, and they found in the enemy's camp great store of iron chains prepared by them for the ROMANS: howbeit they served for them. Drusus set up a token of triumph, & was called Imperator of his troops in the field where the battle was pitched. Afterwards he built above fifty castles upon the rivers of Mouse, Visurge, and of the Rhein. Tiberius on the other side was in DALMATIA, where he brought them under that rose in arms against them. The triumph of Ouatio was decreed to them both, and Augustus was saluted by the Senate Imperator of sovereign Captain, and this for the twelfth time. But in these businesses, the war was hot in THRACIA, and more than ever before: all the Provinces being in rebellion under the conduct of Bulogaeses, who had killed the king Rhacuspolis, an ally of the people of ROME, driven out his Uncle and Lieutenant Rhymetalces out of THRACIA into CHERSONESUS. L. Piso governor of PAMPHILIA went against them, and at the first encounter had not the advantage, but in the second he overcame them utterly. Drusus having made a voyage to ROME, to celebrated the birth day of Augustus in great magnificence, whilst his troops reposed themselves in their garrisons, about the Spring he returned into GERMANY, overcame the SVAUBIANS, gave them a king: then he invaded the country of the MARCOMANNES, fought with them divers times, killed a great number of them, and made all the rest subject to the ROMANS'. Because of this victory, and of that of Piso, Augustus was called Imperator the thirteenth time. Almost in this time he put Proculus to death in prison, one that he loved best of all his bondmen made free: being convinced of many adulteries. He made the thighs of his Secretary Thallus to be broken, for the sum of an hundred crowns which he took for showing a secret letter. In this mean time Tiberius continued war in DALMATIA and PANNONIA, moved through the great imposts whereof the people complained: but in the end he subdued them, and built many castles upon the river of Danuby to stay the invasions of the enemies. Piso also in THRACIA overcame the MAESIANS, and BASTARNES, and brought away a great number of prisoners, who bitten their iron chains for anger, and most impatiently did bear their servitude. Drusus made the CATTIANS subject also, than he came to LIONS to meet with Augustus: from whence they both returned together into ITALY. They had a custom also that yearly on the first day of januarie, (though Augustus were absent) all the Senators, officers of justice, and others of mean estate, brought him newyears gifts to the Capitol: and also every one cast a piece of gold or silver into the lake Curtius, for a vow that they had made to his health. He did bestow all these newyears gifts to buy many rich statues of the gods, which he set up in all the cross streets.  
In the five and thirtieth year of his principality, under the Consulate of Drusus Nero, and of Quintius Crispinus, Drusus having subdued a great part of GERMANY, and preparing to go further: a vision having the shape of a great woman, that spoke bigger and louder than a man's voice could do, said to him in Latin: Go no further: which was a sign of his death. The which followed incontinently after, this young Nobleman of an excellent hope, being but thirty years old. Augustus had put him in the roll of his heirs, and made an oration in his praise. Afterwards all the charge of the wars of GERMANY was committed unto Tiberius. And for Augustus, he being the same year called for a witness in certain causes, did patiently suffer any man to ask him, or refuse him, as he had oftentimes done before. One day as he spoke in full Senate, one of the Senators told him: I understood nothing: another, I would speak against it, if I might be heard. Another time being weary with the contestations of certain pleaders, he went in choler out of his seat. But some began to say unto him, that it was lawful for Senators to speak freely to any matter that came before them: and that no man was ever offended for the replies or contestations of any man.  
Nonius Asprenaes', one of his greatest friends, was accused by Cassius Severus to have poisoned a hundred and thirty bidden guests at a banquet. Augustus did not recommend him, but let the Senators alone, who banished Cassius. An old soldier upon complaint being brought before the Senators, and in danger of his life, besought Augustus to help him. And when he had given him an Advocate to defend him: the soldier opened his breast, and showing him the marks of the wounds which he had received in the battle of ACTIUM, said unto him: But I beseech thee Augustus, consider that I have received these wounds here upon my body for to defend thee, and would put no other in my place. Augustus' moved with these words, appeared in justice, and pleaded this man's cause the which he wan. Soon after he was saluted sovereign Captain for the fourteenth time: because of the victories which Tiberius and Sextus Apuleius had obtained in GERMANY, and in ITALY. And the authority which had been given him for ten years over the state of the Commonwealth being expired, was continued unto him for ten years following. Than he did greatly enlarge the bounds of the territory of ROME, and having advanced Salustius Crispus (the son of the Historian) unto the place which Maecenas held, the ROMAN knight his faithful friend and principal Counsellor, deceased in those days: and by Tiberius continued to bring the GERMANS under: for the victory of whom, and also for that he had subdued all the people inhabiting alongst the Alps; the Senate had set up a token of triumph, and granted triumph to Tiberius.  
Under the second Consulate of Claudius Nero, and of Calphurnius Piso, Caius and Lucius young sons of Augustus, were called young Princes, and appointed Consuls, although they were but of tender years, and under fourteen years old. This pleased Augustus greatly, though he feigned to take no pleasure in it. Furthermore, he then made an edict touching slanderous libels, declaring who should have the hearing of those crimes, and how they should be punished: although he himself cared not much, and patiently suffered they should gibe at him, contented to answer by open defence, unto the reproaches and mockeries they made of him. They scattered abroad one day in the palace many bills of paper of cruel injuries against him. This moved him not at all, neither did he trouble himself much to answer it: but in stead of searching it out, he did advise that hereafter they should have an eye upon those, that by little books or Epigrams published (under false names) scandal against any man. Tiberius wrote a round letter to him one day, to the end he should carry a straighter hand upon that: but he sent him these words: I pray thee, my friend, let not thy youth overrule thee in this matter, nor be not so hot, though I be evil spoken of by some. It is enough if we gain this point, that no man can hurt us. Afterwards he divided the city of ROME into fourteen regions, and two hundred and ten streets, and in every of them he established Officers to see that all things should be maintained as they aught to be, and to report unto the Prince any memorable thing that should happen. He provided for the violence of fire, he built up the temples that were burnt or ruined by time: and gave at one time unto the temple of jupiter Capitoline, for the renewing of the same, sixteen thousand pounds of gold, and of rich and costly pearls, to the sum of twelve hundred thousand Crowns.  
Now Caius and Lucius his young sons growing apace, and julia his daughter beginning to be too well known for her wantonness: Tiberius that could no longer endure her, nor these two young Princes (and because he would have the ROMANS' a little long for him) he demanded and obtained leave with extremity, threatening to kill himself with famine, if they did not grant him: and so went to study at RHODES. In the mean time Augustus provided for the affairs of ISTRIA, divided ITALY into eleven Provinces: and because he doubted they did envy his greatness, he chose nine Praetorian cohorts for his guard, of the which he kept three of them in ROME, lodged here and there in houses, so long as they were in their quarter: and the six others were quartered in the next villages unto it. He also erected new offices, to impart to so many men more the honours and charges of the Commonwealth. At the same time when before the Senate they did object many crimes unto Aimilius Aelianus, and amongst other things, that he spoke ill of Augustus: he turning to the accuser, said unto him as in choler: Prove me that, and I will make Aelianus know that I have a tongue: for I will say more of him, than he hath spoken of me. He made no further inquiry afterwards, and showed himself very gentle and courteous also unto Cassius of PADVA, a man of a mean estate: who having spoken openly at a table, that he lacked no good will nor courage to kill Augustus: he contented himself to impose this only punishment upon him, as to drive him out of ROME. From his eleventh Consulship unto the twelfth, there passed seventeen years: in all which time he diverse times had refused this charge: but now he demanded it, and obtained it. His intention was to advance Caius his little son to great dignity, whom he caused to be proclaimed, young Prince, and sent him to see the Provinces and armies, in the title of a Proconsul. Than he commanded him to go into ASIA, having given him for governors Lollius, and Sulpitius Quirinus. He himself in the mean time remained at ROME, where he established extraordinary guards, under colour to keep thieves and masterless men from offering violence, whilst the armies abroad were far off. The year following, Caius having traveled in diverse parts of the Orient, made peace with Phraates king of the PARTHIANS, and brought away hostages for assurance thereof, the kings three brethren, and all the Princes of the blood. The which was practised by the means of the Queen Thermusa, borne in ITALY, who being sent by Augustus for a gift unto Phraates, he fell so in love with her, and held her in such high estimation, that after she had brought him a son called Phraataces, he received her for his lawful wife. She being desirous her son should possess the Crown, drove the right heirs far off by means of this peace. And at the end of certain years, Phraataces who entertained it killed his father, and possessed the kingdom. But he was not long in quiet possession, for the great Lords conspired against him, and took from him his life and Crown together. Furthermore, Caius conquered ARMENIA, and shortly after Augustus demanded the thirteenth Consulship, to the end to advance his little son Lucius as he had done Caius. He sent him Proconsul into SPAIN, but he fell sick by the way, and stayed almost a year at MARSEILLES. Though these two brethren were far enough of Tiberius, who kept himself as a simple scholar at RHODES: yet they loved not him greatly, nor he them: for which purpose, the process served not much against their mother julia, banished because of her adulteries into the Isle of PANDATARIE. Shortly after, her daughter also called julia, married unto Lucius Paulus, was also convinced of the same crime that her mother was: and was banished into another Isle of the sea Adriaticum, called TREMERA. This affliction so near unto him, marvelously grieved Augustus, who could not bear it but in mourning, and devouring himself with sorrow. Than all the Provinces of the ROMAN Empire being in peace, Augustus shut up the third time the temple of janus: and the King of kings, the Saviour of the world, being borne of a virgin in JUDAEA, appearing amongst men: he shut up the Oracles of all the Painim gods, as the Oracle of DELPHES among others was constrained to confess it, and never spoke afterwards. Wherewith Augustus being astonished, caused a great altar to be set up in the Capitol with an inscription, signifying that it was The altar of the God first borne. The year following, to stay the violent course of great usuries, and to raise up again many families decayed: he put into the Exchange two millions and a half of gold: that is to say, five and twenty hundred thousand crowns: and suffered private men to take of it for three years without interest, putting in pawn into the Exchequer lands and possessions, being twice as much worth as the principal: and condemned the usurers that had taken interest more than julius Caesar had ordained, to pay four times as much, and deducting out of the principal that which had been paid over and above the tax of the law: he gave the debtor three years space to pay it, at three equal times from year to year. He made provision also for distributing of corn, and brought it to 200000. heads of those that should come to have any of it: and did wisely remedy diverse discontentments of the people. Shortly after, Lucius Caesar being 16. years of age, died at MARSEILLES: the which was the cause that Tiberius being reconciled for some other occasion with Caius, he obtained leave to return from RHODES to ROME: with condition (for so was Caius will) that he should meddle with no affairs of estate, and that he should remain yet the rest of the year at RHODES. As touching Augustus, he laboured to recreate himself with his friends: and did willingly see learned men▪ and amongst others, T. Livius that renowned Historian: the Poets Virgil and Horace, but especially Virgil, who was one of his most familiar friends. Which maketh men think that Ovid committed some great fault, since he was a banished man so long, and that they could not obtain his grace, though the greatest men were suitors for him. And yet the Historians say Augustus was not angry, as appeareth by the fact of Timagenes the Historian: who having dispersed abroad some pleasant bynames against Augustus, Livia, and their familiars, whereat every one of them laughed, it was so pleasant an encounter: Augustus was contented to advise him to moderate his tongue from thenceforth, and did only forbidden him his house and familiarity, suffering him to wax old in the company of Asinius Pollio. He did greatly support some also that were accused to have sealed a false Will, & mingled with the marks of condemnation and absolution a third, pardoning all those that it should seem had through ignorance sinned in this fact. One being evidently convinced to have killed his father, was even at the point to be sewed up in a leather sack, according to the custom, and thrown into the sea. Augustus' desirous this cursed wretch should not be thus handled, put the answer in his mouth, in ask of him also: Surely I believe thou hast not killed thy father. The son of Tarius being charged to have conspired against the life of his father, Augustus was sent for into Tarius house, to counsel him what were best to be done: he gave the father counsel to banish him far off from all knowledge. And when Tarius would have made Augustus his heir, he refused it, and obtained that the son should be banished unto MARSEILLES: and that during his father's life he should have a pension to maintain him withal.  
In the 44. year of the monarchy of Augustus, Tiberius having been absent the space of eight years, he came again to ROME, where he lived, and meddled with no matters. But that held not long: for in the same year Caius, upon whom Augustus principally looked, died in LYCIA: and some say, that Livia knew well enough of what death. For she greatly desired the advancement of her son Tiberius, knowing that Augustus did not greatly love the last son of Agrippa & julia, by reason of the rudeness of his nature. Augustus took the death of his son Caius very unpatiently. He made his schoolmaster and domestical servants to be drowned: and furthermore, he disposed all the forces of the Empire and the legions amongst the Provinces, in commodious places as well by sea as by land. Afterwards he obtained the Tribuneship for Tiberius, more through the procurement of Livia then otherwise: although in the end he was content to advance him, to make his memory to be so much the more desired, when they had made proof of his successor, whom he knew better than any other, and never spoke any thing well, but he spied always some cross thing in him of a dangerous nature he had. And yet some judge, that Augustus did repute the virtues in Tiberius to be greater than his imperfections: considering also that in the Oration he made, his words tended to this end, that he adopted Tiberius in favour of the commonwealth. But before he would declare this adoption: he compelled Tiberius to adopt his nephew Germanicus the son of Drusus: and he adopted with Tiberius Agrippa Posthumus, the son of M. Agrippa. Than to prevent the complots of some of the chiefest of ROME, he made Tiberius to be chosen Tribune for ten years following. That was the cause that in ROME they began to speak well of Tiberius, whom they saw by that means somewhat stepped into Augustus' place, so soon as he should happen to die. Furthermore, at the instance of the people of ROME & of Tiberius himself, Augustus did tolerate the banishment of his daughter julia: howbeit for no entreaty he would ever revoke her again. So after the decease of Augustus, she was destitute of all help, and Tiberius made her die for want in an unknown place. The year following, Valerius Messala, and C. Cinna little son of the great Pompey, were elected Consuls. Cinna that took part with his cousins, was taken prisoner, & brought to Augustus, who gave him life & advanced him. This notwithstanding, he was afterwards attainted and convinced to have conspired against the life of Augustus: whom through the counsel of Livia he sent for into his chamber, & gently rebuked him for all the good deeds he had done to him: pardoned him this last offence, & afterwards raised him to the dignity of a Consul, being sorry that he durst not demand it. After that Cinna become his faithful friend and servant, & bequeathed all his goods by will unto Augustus: against whom never any man conspired more. His Lieutenants in AFRICA obtained some victories, & Tiberius continued the war in GERMANY, from whence he oftentimes returned to ROME, to keep himself in Augustus' good favour. Who having limited the pay, recompense, commodity, and time that the soldiers should have, he procured for some time the good of the commonwealth: which had continued longer in prosperity, if his successors had better entertained military discipline. Afterwards to resist the mutinies of the people by reason of famine, he established corpse of guard in all the places of ROME, and drove out a great number of unprofitable mouths. And when corn came again to bear the ordinary price, he was about to abolish the distribution of corn which the commonwealth made: because that the people trusting unto that, made no reckoning to blow their lands. At the same time many towns in diverse Provinces were inclined to rebel, which caused the Senate to make a decree, that the governors of Provinces should command two years one after another, and should not departed thence till their successor were arrived. The ILLYRIANS also they began to rise, but they were suppressed immediately by Valerius Messalinus. For GERMANY, all were subject under the name of the ROMANS, except the MARCOMANNES, and their king Maroboduus, a valiliant and wise man, that kept himself and his people in good discipline, having always an army ready of threescore and ten thousand footmen, and four thousand horse, all the which he trained and put in readiness against his neighbours, to defend him the better against the ROMANS', if they came to assail him. Tiberius' prepared himself with twelve legions to make war with him: but being constrained to go against the ILLYRIANS, he made agreement with Mareboduus, that sought peace and quietness: and so marched where necessity called him. For the ILLYRIANS, to the number of eight hundred thousand men and upwards, rose in manner all at an instant, and mustered up in short time, with such order in their affairs and warlike exploits, that they possessed and brought in subjection almost all MACEDON, and put Augustus into a marvelous perplexity, because they prepared themselves to come into ITALY. Hereupon Tiberius is chosen to go against them, the which he did with so good direction and warlike judgement, that he dispersed their army. But now concerning the country of THRACIA: there the army of the ROMANS' was put to flight: yet taking heart again, they returned to meet with their enemies, and obtained an honourable victory. For which cause they called Augustus Imperator or sovereign Captain the sixteenth time. The ILLYRIANS made head again better than before under the conduct of Bato Desidiates: they made violent and strange invasions, and Tiberius never came against them. Whereupon Augustus conceiving an evil opinion, dispatched Germanicus the son of Drusus, to go into ILLYRIA with a complete army. On the other side, Agrippa Posthumus showed himself so insolent, and committed so many follies, that Augustus could no longer endure them, and therefore he disavowed & disinherited him, confiscated his goods, and confined him to SURRENTUM: where being more audacious than before, he banished him into the I'll of PLANASIA, near unto CORSICA: and caused the Senate to make an ordinance that he should remain there till his death. By this means every man began to regard Tiberius, who was also declared the son and colleague of Augustus by decree of the Senate, who committed unto him all the armies and provinces of the Empire. Livia his mother did help him greatly in all these affairs. Furthermore, he would not stir out of ILLYRIA until he had made an end of this war, which continued three whole years.  
Now at the arrival of Germanicus, the chieftains of the ILLYRIANS came suddenly to assail the camp of the ROMANS: who feigning to be afraid, stayed till the enemy came to charge them in disorder. Than they came out with fury against them, killed a great number of them, and made the rest to fly. Germanicus won another battle against the DALMATIANS, and pursuing his victory, he followed them so near at the heels, that they submitted themselves, and demanded peace. By reason whereof they gave Augustus the name of Imperator the eighteenth time. Bato Desidiates came to salute Tiberius set in his tribunal chair, without holding down his head, or any way embasing himself: and being asked why after so many battles lost, he did yet rebel again? he answered boldly again, that the ROMANS' were the cause of it: who in stead of shepherds had sent them wolves to keep their flock. Peace was granted unto the DALMATIANS upon certain conditions. And as for the BREUCIANS' which continued their war, they were overthrown in many encounters, and at the length brought to subjection by Plautius Silvanus, who triumphed. Their king Bato Breucus had betrayed and delivered unto the ROMANS' another great Captain of the ILLYRIANS called Pinnetes: and afterwards he was delivered himself by his own men unto Bato Desidiates, who killed him with his own hand: and then fortified himself in DALMATIA, where having made head almost a year and a half against the armies of Tiberius and of Germanicus, he won and lost many battles: at the last being able to hold out no longer, he sent his son to demand peace of Tiberius, promising to yield himself and his into the hands of Augustus. He obtained safe conduct, and came by night unto Tiberius' camp: who gave him very gracious entertainment, and many rich presents. Afterwards he made him be brought to RAVENNA, and was also gently used: because that in an encounter where he was▪ enclosed, and in danger of his life, he had given him means to escape and save himself. And because of the divers victories obtained by Germanicus and Tiberius, Augustus was saluted for the nineteenth & twentieth time Imperator or sovereign Captain. And for the PANNONIANS, their young men that had so many times threatened ITALY, were constrained to bring all their arms together on a heap, as they were commanded, and to fall on their knees before Tiberius to demand peace of him. He received them into grace, and sent them home to their houses, disposing his garrisons in strong places, under the charge of Mareus Lepidus. The glory of Tiberius was yet more noble, and the anguishes of Augustus increased by the overthrow of Quintilius Varus: who being go to assail Arminius Prince of the CHERUSSIANS, was enclosed in marshes, and utterly overthrown with three ROMAN legions that were slain in the place: and for himself, fearing to fall alive into the hands of the CHERUSSIANS, he killed himself with his own hand. The victors did never so cruelly handle the ROMANS' as those whom they might know were common Counsellors and pleaders. For at the beginning when Varus came to command their country, where they knew not what process meant, he persuaded himself he should tame them well enough, using the same form and order of process there amongst them, as they did at ROME. So he had a judgement seat, and all matters were pleaded before him. Some of them amongst the rest being very subtle, seemed to esteem much this pleading: and to bring him asleep, they of purpose moved occasion of process and suit one against the other: and then they went before him, and by ROMANS' themselves whose tongues they borrowed, they demanded justice. Than they rejoiced not a little when they could catch any of these Counsellors: for they put out the eyes of some of them, cut off the hands of others of them: and they say, that they cut out the tongue of one, and afterwards sowed up his mouth, and he that held the tongue in his hand, said unto him: OH viper, at the last yet thou wilt leave whistling. Augustus was so astonished at this loss, that at times he would beat his head against the wall, crying out, Varus, give me my legions. Certain years after, Germanicus buried the bones of the ROMANS' that were killed in this overthrow. The year following Tiberius returned into GERMANY, and to keep the passages of the Rhein, Augustus served his turn with the slaves enfranchised, which caused afterwards great confusions and seditions in the ROMAN army. In all these stirs, two men of no worth, called Andasius and Epicadus, complotted to take away julia the daughter of Augustus, and Agrippa Posthumus from the places where they were, and to bring them to some legions to altar the estate. But they were soon discovered, and punished for their rashness. Some others also committed the like fond enterprises, but they vanished away without any effect.  
Furthermore, Augustus being now old and broken, began to leave all great companies, cassiered his guards, and sent them to garrisons far off, to the end they should not go about to make any change. He gave commandment that the GAULES and GERMANS should departed the city by a day prefixed. In the mean time Tiberius having divided his army into four parts, entered into GERMANY, about five and twenty leagues into the country beyond the Rhein, & put all to fire and blood: then he retired fearing some encounter of Varus. Touching Augustus, he qualified some strict laws against the unmarried, the gifts of the husband to the wife, the banquets and suits: he did forbidden the Divines to answer the vain question of those, that would know how long they should live: and he suffered the knights (if they were challenged) to fight at the sharp. Germanicus being returned to ROME obtained the Consulship, and Tiberius triumphed of the ILLYRIANS, PANNONIANS, DALMATIANS, and GERMANS: followed with his Lieutenants Germanicus, Vibius Posthumus, Plautius Silvanus, and Marcus Lepidus, with triumphing robes. But before he went up to the Capitol, he went out of his charet, and fell down on his knees before Augustus. Than he made a dinner for all the people, and had a thousand tables set up for them: and gave to every one of then seven crowns and a half. Under the Consulship of C. Silius, and of Munatius Plancus, Augustus having obtained ten years with Tiberius to provide for the affairs of the commonwealth: to the end to quench many false rumours, about sixteen months before his death, he made his will, and gave it to the Vestal virgins to keep. Because his sickness kept him from coming to the Senate, he prayed the Senators to think of some means to entertain the men of war. Which they having well considered, found no better means then that which he himself had found out, to wit: of the twentieth part of the inheritances: and they all agreed unto it. The next year following, he went (as they say) to see Agrippa in his Isle of PLANASIA, the which troubled Livia much: for she knew what was passed. At the same time he and Tiberius took muster of the ROMAN citizens, and shortly after he fell sick, whereof they recite many causes. But thereupon he went into the country unto some places of pleasure, where he mended a little, and passed the time away prettily merry, carrying Tiberius with him, whom he would have brought on his way to BENEVENT, from whence he went into ILLYRIA. At his return his sickness increased, that he was feign to stay at NOLA, and sent for Tiberius, and talked with him a long time very privately, and after that never did any thing of importance: although the Historians do not agreed whether Tiberius was come before his departure or not. For Livia had set spials in the house he lay sick in, and on the high ways, giving it out abroad that Augustus was well: & on the other side sending messages upon messages unto Tiberius, fame spreading it abroad that Augustus was dead, and that Tiberius held his place. Augustus' being at the point to give up the ghost, made himself to be combed, and speaking to his friends, asked if no body made any noise without. So he exhorted them to rejoice with him, for that he had so happily played the Comedy of this human life. Than having sent them all out of his chamber, he asked if Livilla Drusus daughter were in health: and so embracing his wife, said these words unto her: Farewell Livia, behave thyself well, and remember our marriage: and suddenly went away, making a sweet end, which he always desired as often as he heard talk of those that died quietly. He died in the same town, and in the same chamber that his father Octavius died in, and lived near unto the age of threescore and sixteen years. His corpse being brought to ROME, the Vestal virgins brought out his will and testament, by the which he appointed Tiberius his heir, and gave him three parts of his goods, and his wife Livia the fourth part. Furthermore he gave to the people of ROME twelve hundred and fifty thousand crowns: to the five and thirty Tribes, thirteen hundred, seven and thirty thousand, five hundred crowns: to every one of the Praetorian soldiers 25 crowns, to those of the town 12 crowns and a half. There were other legacies to be paid within a year: & he said, that all his legacies performed, he left his heirs four millions of gold. Within 20 years before his death, he did inherit of his friends goods which had made him their heir, about 35 millions of gold: howbeit that he had spent all that with two patrimonies of his own for maintenance of the common wealth. With his testament there were three little libels or codicils, the one showing what he would have done at his funerals. The second was a brief of all his actions, which he commanded should be graven in copper tables before his tomb. The third contained the estate of his revenue, & of the principal affairs of the Empire. He had added to them also the names of the enfranchised bondmen and of the slaves, whom they might bring to accounted, and therewith he advised them to keep the limits of the Empire which they had at that time. They carried him with great pomp into the field of Mars, where he was reduced into ashes, which they closed up in his sepulchre built in his sixt Consulship. After all these ceremonies the Senate appointed him a temple and divine honours, and was placed in rank with the gods. To make this honour yet greater, one Numerius Atticus that had been Praetor, a man of great authority in ROME, was enticed by Livia, who gave him five and twenty thousand crowns, to swear before all the people, that he saw Augustus carried up into heaven. After his death, many speeches were diversly spoken of his life: some reproving him, as much as others commended him. But his successor made him oftentimes to be lamented. And so he was wont to say of Tiberius, that he should leave to the ROMANS' in succession of the Empire, a successor that never consulted twice of one thing. And as he was a happy Prince in all his enterprises, and that by his Lieutenants had done an infinite number of worthy exploits against the enemies of the Empire: so in his life amongst his friends he showed himself very gracious, pleasant, and well disposed in company: being learned, eloquent, and sententious in all his talk. And to conclude, such as the Empire of ROME had never any Augustus Caesar but him alone.  
The end of Octavius Caesar Augustus' life.   

THE LIFE OF Plutarch.  
PLUTARCH.  

Thy precepts are a crown of purest gold  
To Traian, deemed the glory of mankind.  
In hands, and hearts, if great men would thee hold,  
Virtue should rule, and vice should go behind.   
Having undertaken to gather the lives of Plutarch and of Seneca, as they themselves are amply showed in their works, the which in despite of the fury of an infinity of strange accidents have yet remained whole and in reputation until this present time: First, this thought hath possessed me before, that some man may marvel, how, and wherefore I do join Philosophers, quiet men, and friends of solitariness: unto so many noble and worthy warriors. Wherein it seemeth I wander too far off from the principal intention of Plutarch, who was so willing to honour the Muses, joining into one body so many members and parts of histories offered unto the posterity, that in the mean time he hath accompanied, and as it were environed them: 
With darts, and targets of Mars redoubtable.  But I hope, that if those (which think strange of my doings) will but at leisure with a reposed eye look upon the lives before: they shall found that I have not go so far from the right meaning, as at the first sight may be judged. For, beside that the lives of some Orators, especially of Demosthenes and of Cicero, are seen amongst the others: you shall found few noblemen represented by our Author, but that they have as carefully handled books, as their swords. And if some seem to be so much given to arms, that they have left the study of learning behind them: yet we may see that they have loved Philosophers, and that they themselves have earnestly and effectually reasoned of Philosophy, in time of war and peace. And whereas Plutarch hath mingled some with virtuous men, some (I say) which have done infinite hurt to themselves, and to all the world during their lives, and whose names are detested at this day by those themselves which follow their execrable doings: his intention was not to place them in the Theatre of virtue, as if they had deserved it: but as learned painters finely apply cloudy and dark colours in their tables, to the end that the lively and fresh colours should appear more beautiful and as it were embossed; so in entermingling the strange excesses of some GREEKS' and ROMANS' amongst so worthy acts of others, he hath so fitly mingled the sweet and profitable together, that it is not possible to be better. But if my two Philosophers (since I have begun to qualify them thus) were contented to shut up themselves in some school or study, and to do nothing else but declaim and fashion some scholars: it may be indeed I should have better left this enterprise unto some follower of Diogenes Laertius, that would describe the sects of Philosophy, and the principal founders of the same. Now there are here two personages, which (as the soul within the body) have through their notable counsels given motions unto great and mean men in their time, and by other men's eyes and hands have done infinite things in the society of man's life, unto the which they serve at this day with their precepts and goodly instructions, without the which the exploits of others should be partly buried and abolished: as those have been of so many other men that came before and after. They be the two schoolmasters and counsellors of two Emperors. They be men that beside their study have borne great and honourable offices, in the which they have so carried themselves, that by their actions a man may gather, that knowledge is a great prop and stay to a virtuous man. If they have not worn armour and commanded armies: if a man see them in a long gown, and their books in their hands, they loose not therefore their glory which so many ways recommendeth them at this present, having lift up learning in honour, and furnished strong arms, by means whereof all Princes may wisely and happily maintain their estates against the fury of wars, and under the quiet government of peace. As to the contrary, when violence alone would rule, and that men thought there was no need that our spirits should be kept in and directed by the exhortations of Philosophy: confusions came on in heaps, which ruined and overthrew that which they thought had been surest set in the ground. Moreover, I did not bear myself in hand that I could attain to that, as to represent Plutarch and Seneca in their beseeming comeliness. They themselves could have done that, and in their writings there are draughts very agreeable to their gravity. But as we do not willingly take the pencil to paint ourselves, but to please ourselves, the discourse of our thought sufficeth. In like manner also these goodly spirits here, being contented to be known by the glass of their virtue which followeth them: they leave every body to think of their deeds and words that that is meet. Among all the books that serve for the use of man's life, next unto that which concerneth our sovereign good we hope for in a better place than this world: I think there are none more profitable nor necessary to all sorts of men, than histories. And amongst histories, those of men which have been brought to honour and place of government in the commonwealth: and among those men there, those that have brought their deeds and sayings to some commendable end. Wherhfore I will not enter into disputation nor conference of stories, nor mingle the Scriptures with the profane, or confounded the discourse representing men destitute of the knowledge of the true god, with the holy and admirable considerations of the life of them, which have been lightened with the happy and supernatural light. That requireth a whole book, and separated from this present work, our purpose being otherwise bend to the same. But as in the former lives I was desirous to waken the good spirits of our nation, and by the interjection of some of my conceits to induce them to do better: I do the like also in these two, attending the commodity to set forth others, if the Author of life do permit me.  
Now before we proceed any further, for as much as Seneca was long time before Plutarch, some might also require another order in my discourse. Notwithstanding, as Plutarch doth ordinarily place the GREEKS before the ROMANS', and that for the matter of their lives there is no need otherwise for a man to trouble himself much about the disposing of them, and that those which be dead do not quarrel together to know who shall go before or behind: I have thought with myself that I might begin this work where I thought good, without binding myself too curiously, either to the order of time, or to such other circumstances. For if any man be offended, I will allege that unto him which was spoken unto one displeased, because his horse was painted standing on his feet, which he would have had lying on his back, and his feet upward: Turn the other side upward, and you shall be pleased. Even so is it in his choice to read such a life first, as he thinketh good, and to turn the table at his pleasure, no man being constrained to come into the closet of the Muses, but at his own will, and by the gate which pleaseth him best. I could have been contented to have offered Plutarch only, or left him hidden in his works, the true and durable treasures of his glory: but having been solicited to show some patterns, I was unwilling to let him go alone. Now, I cannot cast mine eye upon that parsonage, but Seneca doth also present himself unto me, for many reports and agreements that are between them. For, besides that nature hath brought them into the world, in the revolution of one age, both came out of a strange country to ROME: both of them were rich and of great power, masters and teachers of two Emperors, which did enrich and advance them to honour, and great offices in the commonwealth. In regard of their learning, although the one of them was of a sect impugned by the other in diverse respects: yet they both tended to one end, although it was by diverse ways: to wit, to drive away vice and vanity out of the hearts of their disciples, and to plant in them the love of virtue, the contempt of death, and of the world, with so sound reasons, and so well combined the one to the other: that it is unpossible to enter into a school of the heathen better ordered then that of these two, to learn (as we aught) to be ashamed of dishonest things, and to exercise those that be honest and virtuous. But as touching other agreements and dissemblances which may be noted as well in their life and behaviour, as in their doctrine: peradventure it shall be better to reserve it to fit place, or to leave the discourse unto the studious reader: who advisedly considering this little which we presently present unto them, and joining thereto the writings of the one and the other: shall know what authority and art these two wise men have to draw the most ignorant and foolish to the love of virtue. Also that their style with their pertinent and plain manner of discourse is accompanied with great gravity and forcible reasons, to make men confident to believe them. If the one flow sweetly, and always almost maintaineth himself in the same: the other in his wanderings and rolling about can well reform his errors, and come to it again in time: and then go on better than when he first began. Plutarch useth a world of approaches and hooks to pull down vice. Seneca seemeth to provoke him to the combat, and when he setteth upon him, it is in taking him by the collar and shaking him in all parts. The one seemeth to be a company of light horsemen charging very swiftly, and at diverse wheelings and returns: the other, to a battalion of footmen well set in order, assailing resolutely, and not removing out of the place before he have won the victory. The opinions of Plutarch are handled with Platonical inductions, enriched with examples, with similitudes, with quick sentences, and gracious recitals, which force the reader to yield. Seneca drawing that which is praiseworthy from the STOICS, and from EPICURUS also goodly instructions: as the Bee finely draweth from the herb of bitter juice that which maketh sweet honey, differing somewhat from the common use, he maketh a very profitable and sure harbour wherein a heart ill settled may repose itself. The one speaketh as a friend, the other as a master: and both with such a grace, that whether they give good counsel, or that they command: the ears and hearts do bow at their voices. Insomuch that the wicked are constrained in reading of these Philosophers to acknowledge and plainly to hear within this grave school, a million of truths which condemneth them: and I cannot tell with what hidden force (as the Adamant draweth iron) they feel themselves to be carried that way, unto the which the learned instructions of these two Philosophers do direct them, to delight in them even with mourning, and to confess that those be the persons of whom men may learn to be less vicious, and more virtuous: good men also they gather there a sweet fruit as possible may me, for remedy against so many cruelties of this present life. And although they found their true and perfect contentment in a far better school without comparison: yet so it is, that in this school here they understand things which afterwards makes the other more agreeable, and more honourable. Now for as much as afterwards we have mixed the memories of their lives with diverse particularities, which will make us see a part of their comparisons that may be noted between them: let us begin with Plutarch, and consider his life principally by the instructions which he himself hath left us, and namely in many places of his moral and mingled works.  
Pausanias, in the ninth book of his description of GRECE, saith, that there ran a common rumour abroad among the THEBANS, that Cadmus the son of Agenor coming from DELPHES into PHOCIDE, was guided by a cow marked in both her flanks with white spots in form of a full Moon: and that the Oracle commanded him to stay with his troops in that place where the cow should lie down. Which came to pass in the territory afterwards called BOEOTIA, because of this cow. At the beginning of the same book he saith that BOEOTIA took the same name of Boeotus the son of Iton, and of the nymph Menalippe: which should seem repugnant. But the one and the other opinion may well agreed, if we say that Cadmus' being come into that part of the country, Boeotius that had a charge in these troops, and remaining there after the others, left his name to all the territory which is near neighbour to ATTICA, but in a thicker air, because it standeth betwixt two mountains, and that the country is more Northwards. So that the ATHENIANS were ever thinner of body, and of livelier spirit: and the BOEOTIANS to the contrary, fuller of flesh, and duller of wit also. From whence came many slents of laughter against the mass and weight of their understandings, and they made proverbs dispersed in Greek and Latin books. Yea the Poets themselves, and Ebulus among others, do flout the BOEOTIANS, that they are great feeders, and love to speak much: which agreeth very well with the rest of their manners. Plutarch also himself in his first treaty of eating of flesh, noteth somewhat of that. Nevertheless, of such a country came Pelopidas, and other excellent men, but namely him of whom we are now presently to speak of, no simple nor sottish man: but as 
Midst bushes, and the thickest of the thorn  
The flowers of tenderest violets are borne.  Even so out of a country accustomed to bring forth fat men, as they say, and fit for war then learning: came Plutarch, borne in the city of CHAERONEA, near unto LEBADIA. In old time (as Pausanias saith) it was called ARNE, because of Arné the daughter of Aeolus. But afterwards because it stood evil, and looked towards the West: Chaeron the son of Apollo and of Thero the daughter of Phylas, caused it to be new built, and turned to the East, to make it more wholesome and habitable. Upon which occasion, in token of thankfulness for the good act of the founder, it was ever after called CHAERONEA. And although for many memorable accidents this town is noted in histories, yet do I not know any thing that hath so much kept up the memory of it until this present, as the name of Plutarch, whose ancestors, men of a noble race, maintained themselves from father to the son in honourable office and place of charge in their little common wealth, until the time of Nicarchus his great grandfather, who lived in the time of Augustus Caesar, as Plutarch reporteth in the life of Antonius: where he saith also, that all the citizens of CHAERONEA, not one excepted, were compelled themselves to carry upon their shoulders, a certain measure of corn to the sea coast, which is before the I'll of ANTICYRE: and yet they were driven forward whipped with many a sore lash. Again, as they were preparing for a second journey, and that every man had his burden ready: news came that Antonius had lost the battle before ACTIUM, which saved CHAERONEA. For Antonius' commissioners and soldiers fled immediately, and the citizens divided the corn amongst them. Nicarchus, amongst other children had Lamprias, a learned man amongst those of his time, and of whom Plutarch makes often mention in his books, where he speaketh of talk at the table: how that he had been in company with other learned men at many feasts, where there was no talk but of learning, and matters of Philosophy. He speaketh also of his father, the son of Lamprias, not expressing his name although he representeth him discoursing of many points of Philosophy, and namely in the books above mentioned. Of this Philosopher than the son of Lamprias, were borne many children, and amongst others Plutarch, Timon, and Lamprias: all which three were very carefully brought up and instructed in the liberal sciences, and in all the parts of Philosophy: unto the which they shall ever see an humble reverence towards their grandfather and father joined together, and amongst themselves a fast and pleasant friendship, as may be gathered in many places out of their table talk. Whereupon in respect of the grandfather and father, I remembered that Plutarch in those books speaking of his grandfather, he makes always honourable mention of him. And as for his father, in the instruction for those that deal in affairs of the estate, he reporteth, that he being young was sent with another in embassage to the Proconsul, and his companion remaining upon some occasion behind, he went thither alone, and executed the commission. And at his return, as he would have given the common wealth accounted openly, and have made report of his charge and embassage: his father rising up alone, forbade him to say, I went, but we went: and I spoke, but we spoke, and so commanded him to make his report, always joining his companion with that he had done. We see in the treaty of brotherly love, how heartily he loved his brother Timon, when he said in these words: For myself, although fortune hath showed me many favours, which deserve that I should be thankful to her for them, yet there is none that maketh me so much bound unto her, as the love and good will my brother Timon hath borne, and doth bear unto me in all things: the which no man can deny to be true, that hath but a little frequented our company. And in his talk at the table, bringing in his father and brethren with many others, or together, resolving diverse questions of Philosophy, he representeth men that with a grounded knowledge had joined a sweet behaviour, and a wonderful good understanding, and namely the young Lamprias, who was of a pleasant nature, and loved to be merry. Plutarch then having a father that loved learning and virtue, was in a good hour put out to learning, whereunto he was wholly inclined. And amongst other good masters, he met with Ammonius, an EGYPTIAN borne, saith Eunapius, who having with great praise taught in ALEXANDRIA, he did also visit the cities of GRECE wherein learning did yet flourish, and tarried a great time in ATHENS, respected and well beloved of every man. In the latter end of Theomistocles life, Plutarch showeth that he was a boorder and lying in Ammonius house, and in talk at the table he brought him in, either disputing, or teaching his scholars. So the custom to teach the youth at that time was very fine and easy, to give children a taste of learning and virtue: for as the tutors employed part of their time to discourse in the presence of their disciples, they occupied them in the same exercise afterwards, and made them declare, and say their opinion of diverse matters: so that in few weeks by way of sport and recreation they had run through all the secrets of Philosophy. Unto the which they joined also, besides their compositions and particular exercises, their familiar talk and recreative disputations in their walks, at their suppers and feasts, where nothing else could be heard but that which made the young men wise and virtuous in a short space. That may be gathered out of Plutarch's writings, and out of those especially where he speaketh how children should be taught, of the lecture of the Poets, how they should hear, his talk at the table, and a good number of declamations dispersed in the midst of his moral works. In this place I remember that which he himself spoke in discourse, how a man should know a flatterer from a friend, touching the direction of this his tutor. Our master Ammonius, saith he, perceiving in his lecture he made after dinner, that some of his disciples & familiars had made a larger dinner than was fit for students: he commanded one of his servants a free man to beat his own son: he could not (saith he) dine without vinegar. When he had spoken that, he cast his eye upon us: so that they which were indeed culpable, found that he meant it by them. We may see also in the first and second question of his third book of talk at the the table, how ready this Philosopher was to sharpen the spirits of young men that frequented him. Thus therefore Plutarch having so good a help, in few years he profited greatly in the knowledge of all the parts of Philosophy, and never went out of his country, nor traveled to understand strange languages, although the Latin tongue was common in ROME, and in diverse places of the ROMAN Empire: which extended itself into GRECE, and beyond, as Plutarch noteth it in the end of his Platonical questions. Without notwithstanding that he ever profited much in the knowledge of any other tongue, saving in the knowledge of the GREEK: the which also hath a taste of his Philosophy of BOEOTIA. He doth also confess in the beginning of the life of Demosthenes, that whilst he was in ITALY and in ROME, he had no leisure to study, nor to exercise the Latin tongue, as well for the business he had then in hand, as to satisfy those that frequented him to learn Philosophy of him. So that very late, being well stepped on in years, he began to take Latin books in his hand, wherein there happened a strange thing unto him, but yet true notwithstanding: that is, that he did not learn nor understand things so much by the words, as by a certain use and knowledge he had of things he attained to the understanding of the words. But furthermore (they are his own words) to know how to judge well, wherein consisteth the beauty of the Latin tongue, or to speak it readily, or to understand the figures, translations, and the fine knitting of simple sayings one with the other, which do adorn and beautify the tongue, I think well (said he) that it is a very goodly thing and pleasant▪ but withal it requireth a long and laboursome exercise, fit for those that be at better leisure than I am, and that be yet able for age to attend such fineness. That which is above above spoken of, showeth that in that time they learned sciences in their mother tongue, so that even from their cradle children began to enter into the school of the Muses, and pierced into the goodliest secrets of the same, having in their own tongue the arts and goodly disciplines discovered even to the bottom: whereas presently the best of our age stealeth away in learning of words, and when we should enter into the knowledge of things, our memory is overwhelmed and judgement altered with an infinity of objects, which (like diverse sauces) have most times altered our right taste. Insomuch that almost commonly we see that we delight for the most part to heap together letters upon letters, and after a great provision of strange words, we found ourselves children, and void of the true knowledge of things. But now to come again to Plutarch, as touching his sufficiency and his advancement in sciences, we need not speak of them in particular, considering that his writings do sufficiently prove them, and that we have also spoken something in the preface of his moral works.  
Now, as his good fortune made him meet with excellent masters, and men very careful to manure so noble a spirit: so he for his part answered their hope very sufficiently, showing himself even from his infancy to the end of his life wholly given to study, with an earnest desire (but well governed) to keep his body in health, to content his mind, and to make himself profitable a long time to himself, and to others also. Which was no hard matter for him, having been carefully brought up even from his cradle, and so well governed, as was requisite to maintain himself long in strength: his father's house and table being a school of temperance and of frugality. Considering furthermore that talk with learned men was very necessary for him to attain to that which he pretended: and having a mind desirous to excel in all things, he traveled into EGYPT, & talked there of all the ancient doctrine with the wisest men, whereof afterwards he made a collection and entitled it, of Isis, and Osiris: which is yet left unto us, where he showeth himself to be well studied in the Divinity and Philosophy of the EGYPTIANS. From thence he returned again into GRECE, and visited the towns and universities where there were any Philosophers, and frequented them all, to gather together the goodly instructions which he hath left us. Moreover he began to make collections, & culled out remembrances not only out of the books already published, but also of the notable talk and discourse which he understood of the one & the other. Also of registers & authentical instruments kept in towns where he came, whereof afterwards he did most artificially frame the most part of his works. And pretending such a laudable end, the better to establish his conceits, and to speak with a more commendable authority and good manner: he made a journey unto the city of SPARTA, of purpose to see the papers & memories of all the government of this goodly commonwealth, & of their lawmakers, Kings, and ephors, and gathered together all their notable deeds & sayings so carefully as could be possible, even to the lest words of the simple soldiers and women of SPARTA, together with all their customs, ordinances, ceremonies, and fashions to live in common, and particularly, in war and in peace. He did the like in diverse other commonwealths, as his lives, & the demands of things pertaining to the GREEKS' and ROMANS' doth amply prove it: without which collections also it was unpossible for him to have left in writing such particularities, & he could not but of necessity have had communication with a great number of men lovers of antiquities. Unto that he joined a curious search of statues, metals, inscriptions, paintings, tables: also of proverbs, Epigrams, Epitaphs, apothegms, & other ornaments of history, to leave nothing behind him. And being continually almost in the company of learned men in all professions: it seemeth his memory was always bend to gather, & his judgement occupied to discern that which was to be rejected or retained. By which means he saw himself in a short time advanced to the knowledge of all things: moreover he had in his hands goodly briefs and collections, with the which he finely holp himself, and afterwards made a good part unto his friends and posterity. He himself at the beginning of his book treating of the contentment and quietness of the mind, makes mention of the memories which he had of long time made for his own use. So that out of this rich closet he hath drawn the excellent pieces which have remained unto us, and which show how much we have lost being deprived of them that are no more to be found, and the which time hath dispersed, or utterly consumed.  
Now though that in general it may be said, that this man was ignorant in no learning, nor of the goodly secrets of nature: yet this word we must add to it, that whosoever shall duly consider the entrance, continuance, composition, binding and enclosing of his discourse, be it that he writ an history, or that he by any treaty apart will put back vice, and make virtue to be beloved: be it that he sport himself in clearing the difficulties of natural Philosophy, or of the Mathematics, be it that he beginnneth to commence some disputation against those whose opinions he disproveth: we shall found in his writings an exact and easy method both together, his proofs sound, and his inductions pleasant and agreeable to all sorts of wits, and of such pithy discourses, so that of force we must confess that this person had been most excellently directed in his studies, considering that in speaking after such an easy manner, he presenteth so profound instructions, and I cannot tell what, where there is always somewhat to be learned. Furthermore, seeing diverse sects in credit in his time, it seemeth he had a good will to sound into the depth of the value & error of them. Than reaching higher yet, he hath searched out the opinions of the first Sages. So that the Pythagorians, Platonians, Epicurians, Stoics, and Peripateticians, with their precepts have been very familiar with him. But not being content with turning over the leaves of their writings, and seeing to the end all that which the natural Philosophers have thought of the secrets of the world: yet would he familiarly frequent those whom he understood to be practised in sciences, and confer with them, understand their reasons, and be thoroughly resolved of them: and at the length obtained his desire, as his books make mention. That was accompanied with a continual reading of all sorts of good Authors, as well to amplify his collections, as still more and more to enrich his memory, and to polish his judgement: as may be noted in his works three several excellences of his spirit. For some of them are certain declamations made in the school, and by way of exercise, as we have showed them placed at the beginning of the same: so that if he would have taken the pains to have reviewed and smoothed those pieces there, they would have seemed to be others than they were. But we perceive that he left some unperfect, not thinking that that (which served not but for a proof of some thing better laboured) deserved to come to light. There are also some other discourses better polished, yet in such sort notwithstanding, that it plainly appeareth, he might have amplified them and made them better. And there be other pieces, unto the which it may be said, he hath put his last hand: as are his Lives, and the most part of his Moral works, written at leisure, very advisedly, considered in all understanding, and to diverse reiterations. He could have done the like in all, and with the like style have raised his writings to their perfection: but having as it were more expressly stayed himself upon some, he hath showed therein the disposition of his studies, and with what discretion he spent his time.  
Now, though he had tasted of all the sects of the Philosophers, yet you may perceive that inclining to the Platonians (for he greatly reverenced Socrates and Plato, whose birth days he did yearly celebrated) he nevertheless shut himself within the bounds of modesty of certain ACADEMICS, being content simply to propound the things, but to leave them to the judgement of the readers, forcing no man. Furthermore, we see with what diligence he had turned over the leaves of the writings of the Epicurians, and of the Stoics, against whom he stoutly opposed himself. But moral Philosophy was his chiefest end: for the rational, the natural, and the Mathematics (the which he had greatly studied) they were but simple pastimes in comparison of the other. Whereupon may be discerned, that having received in himself a singular pleasure of such study, he always sought to print the same desire and contentment in the thought of all men, leaving the speculations and pricking questions: only tending to this good, to bring wisdom into the houses, to establish it in the thrones of kings, to make it go in the streets, to lodge it in the eyes, in the ears, upon the tongues, and in the bottom of the hearts of all men. See here what his thoughts have been, which he could well digest afterwards: so that it seemeth he was altogether given to that. Now though he was occupied in meditations and so excellent works, he forgot not therefore any thing that was requisite for the exercises of his body, such as men used at that time, to keep their spirits in strength, as also more joyfully to pass over so many other crosses as our life is assailed withal. And we may see also in the precepts he hath written of health, that albeit Physic was not his profession, nevertheless he learned that which was the principal for his own private good. For in that book of his, he speaketh reasonably of the use of meats, and showeth from what meats we should abstain. Afterwards having declared in what sort one should use his appetite and the pleasures of the body, he condemneth the excess of drinking and eating, he teacheth how to prevent sickness, setteth down remedies, treateth of diet, and of signs of sickness, and of the true ways how to keep health. And thereupon he cometh to reason of the exercises and diet of students, laying that open which we should most carefully observe therein: which maketh me believe that he having known so well what was fit for the preservation of the body, he did wisely help himself: as also even to very old age he hath borne office in the commonwealth, and always carried a body and mind lusty and ready to take pains, having had this wisdom to consider well his nature and disposition: also to take such meats and drinks as were good for his stomach, and to use them soberly, and keeping his body in good state by commendable exercises and nurture, to make himself profitable a long time for human society. It is true that he being a grave man, raised to honour, and a Philosopher by profession, his chiefest exercises of body were to walk with other learned men, where without contention of words, he always decided some points of Philosophy. Furthermore he loved to talk at the table, and to mingle pleasant & grave matters with some new device: so wittily and sweetly to interlace and divide the course of his life: being no crabbed nor sullen person, but pleasant, and whose company was troublesome to none: and otherwise as sober and discreet in his talk, as he was in drinking and eating.  
So then his manners, as well alone, as with his friends and openly, do show, that truly he had a good soul within a body well tempered. Now I do not enter here into the examination of the ridiculous opinions of Plutarch in matter of religion: being sorry that so rare a spirit hath been so miserably environed with the darkness which was at that time in the most part of the towns & men of GRECE, & specially among so many wise men, strangely ignorant and dull in respect of the knowledge of the true God. If we had not been warned betimes by the true and only wise men taught in the school of eternal wisdom, of such a judgement of God upon the wise men of the world, who have been confounded in their discourse, when there hath been question of the honour due to our sovereign Lord: then we might have been astonished, and remained as men cast away. And whereas so many great wise men have erred in their ways, that will not excuse them before their judge, as if he had kept the light from them. For, since that which may be known of his eternity and omnipotent power, hath been revealed unto them in nature and in philosophy: staying a man upon himself, or upon other creatures, and forsaking the only Creator, they condemn themselves by their own words and writings. Now to come again to Plutarch. He having been Apollo's Priest, as himself confesseth, and from his youth suckled with the foolish dote of the GREEKS': I do not found it strange, that many absurd opinions and without good ground (yea wicked and pernicious) are scattered in his disputations, touching the default of Oracles, of the religion of the JEWS, of the inscription of the letter E'i' in the temple of DELPHES: why the prophetess Pythia doth no more give her oracles in verse, and in many places of the lives and works, in the which he openly inclineth to the superstitions and Atheisms of the PAGANS'. There he showeth a conscience evil informed, and a man running very swiftly out of the right way. By the same means a man may plainly note, that in matter of supernatural and divine philosophy, another manner of light than that of our corrupt understanding is wholly required, not being possible that a man left to his own wit can comprehend the things which are of God: because they are discerned after a fashion merely unknown unto him, and of the which he cannot be partaker but by a special grace, and which nature doth not bestow upon him, but he which hath made and reform nature. It is no marvel then if Plutarch should be misled, that hath had so many instructions and masters strayed from the way of the eternal truth, and whose predecessors were drowned in the bottomless pit of ignorance. Yet notwithstanding, in the midst of that darkness he hath had so much light, that he seemeth at times to note and condemn the labyrinth of error, as a man that hath lost his way in an horrible dark night should from one time to another be directed rightly by the light of the flashings of lightning. For some do gather by his discourse, of the cessation of the Oracles, and by other places, that he did acknowledge one God, and very liberally condemned many old and new superstitions, unto the which both himself, and others his like, did cleave unto rather by custom for fashion's sake, and to please the people, then for any opinion they had that they were worth aught. But as I have said, my intention is not to judge this person nor his deeds: considering that besides the matter I touch (every where where he goeth out of the way) he confuteth himself sufficiently: witness his discourse of superstition, and the seventh chapter of his first book touching the opinions of the Philosophers, where he will dispute of the eternal providence: and the third question of the second book of talk of the table, making mention of the egg: and the last question of the fourth book, where he meddleth with speaking of God, and of the ceremonies of the JEWS. In the mean time, and in the midst of this great blindness, they see in Plutarch a heart that is enemy unto vice, and a friend of good manners. Let a man see him in his family, in the school, in banquets, with his friends, and openly: behold, there is a grave man, modest in behaviour, sharp, learned, and pleasant in his discourses, offending nor hurting no man. If he speak of vice, he letteth out the filthiness, and scantly maketh the patiented cry. If he speak for virtue, it is with such efficacy, that every man may know he spoke of the abundance of his heart. He is a good father of a house, a wise schoolmaster, a grave historian, a brave politician, an excellent Philosopher, a good writer to imitate: and furthermore, a faithful, profitable, true, and a joyful counsellor and friend. His plainness, simplicity, and grave modesty shineth in all his writings: his virtue, accompanied almost ordinarily with all others which we need not speak of particularly, neither to unfold the life of our Philosopher from one part to another to see his uprightness, integrity, gravity, sweetness, constancy, force, prudence, temperancy, and liberality: that may be truly spoken of him, which had been long time before applied in the theatres unto Amphiaraus, and to Aristides:  

He little cares to seem upright, but striveth so to be,  
In deepest thoughts preferring virtue still:  
Whence day by day, proceeding we do see  
Wise counsels, that without respect, true honours laws fulfil.   
In testimony of his sweet gravity, and of part of his thoughts: I will allege some words couched in his own discourse against choler. As for me, said he, If I have done well or evil I know not, but by that means I have rid myself of choler. As the LACEDÆMONIANS did in old time, who to learn their children not to be drunk at all, showed them their slaves being drunk: so do I consider the effects of choler in others. And afterwards he addeth more, that a man should accustom himself to bear many of his wives words, and of his familiars and friends, which do reprove us for that we are too gentle and soft. And this was the chiefest cause (said he) why I was so often angry with my servants, fearing they would wax worse for want of reproof and correction. But I observed myself at the last, though late, that first I were better by patience and pardoning them, make my servants worse: then to hurt myself by sharpness and choler, seeking to reform others. I considered also with myself, and remembered (said he) that as he which teacheth us to shoot in a bow, doth not forbidden us to draw, but to fail in drawing: so he that teacheth us to punish in time and place, moderately, profitably, and as we should: doth not let us but that we may punish. I do labour all I can to withdraw, and utterly to banish all choler: principally because I would not take from them that are punished, the mean to justify themselves, and to hear them. For time bringeth in the interim to the passionate mind, a delay and forgetfulness which dissolveth it: in which space the judgement of reason findeth both the mean and the measure to give reasonable correction. And besides that they give the party punished no place to resist the punishment, if he be not corrected in anger and choler, but convinced for that he had well deserved it. And (which were yet more unseemly) they shall not found that the servant punished speaketh more justly than his master that punisheth him. Touching this purpose, I will remember the pleasant report which the Philosopher Taurus made of Plutarch, as Gellius reciteth it in the six and twentieth chapter of the first book of his night's Attiques, as some man hath heretofore expressed it in our language. A slave, a vile and vicious man (but yet that had his ears somewhat instructed with books and disputations of Philosophy) having been stripped naked for some fault he had done, by the commandment of his master Plutarch, whilst they were whipping of him, he grombled at the first that it was without reason, and that he had done nothing: but in the end crying out amain, and injuring his master, he told him that he was no Philosopher as he bragged himself to be: and that he often heard him say it was a fowl thing to be angry, yea that he made a book of it: and that now (overcome with choler) in making him be beaten so cruelly, he utterly belied all his writings: Thereunto Plutarch coldly and quietly answered: Why, how now roister, said he? whereby dost thou think that I am angry at this present? my countenance, my voice, my colour, my words, do they give thee any sign that I am angry? I do not think I have cruel eyes, nor a troubled face, nor any fearful cry. Do I blush? do I foam? doth any thing escape me that I should repent me? do I stamp? do I rage's? For to tell thee truly, these be the shows of choler. Afterwards he turned to him that whipped him: saying: Forward with your business, whiles he and I do reason the matter. Furthermore, we may easily gather what Plutarch was amongst his friends, from the nine books, containing the questions decided at the table. And for his disputations against the EPICURIANS and STOICS, they show that this person for the regard of his actions concerning the commonwealth, having respect unto those whom at that time he made his judges, and to the posterity into whose hands his writings might come hereafter: he always carried himself in such a modest gravity, that they could require no more of him. And if sometime he did feelingly touch some, as Colotes, and Herodotus, it was not in vain. Also he always used terms which witnessed that he had an upright soul. To be short, it appeareth every where that his passions were marvelous well stayed. And if any of them were furious or violent, he could tell in time and place how to reform them by the precepts of Philosophy, leading (as is said) a life without blame of men. But above all the rest, when any discourse or disputation drew him unto it, to speak of shameful or dishonest things, he did convey it with such discretion as it cannot be amended: whereof we need not to bring forth examples dispersed in his writings, and especially in the dialogue of love, seeing that being concealed it doth no hurt, as also remembered or too expressly revealed, it cannot but hurt the eyes, and an honest thought.  
Furthermore, Plutarch's study of Philosophy took not away the care he had to live with some profit amongst men, nor made him to disdain the means which his predecessors had left him. But as he came of a noble house, and with time being advanced unto office and charge in the commonwealth, greatly esteemed of Traian the Emperor, and of the noble men of ROME, he saw he had goods enough to live at ease: whereof notwithstanding he never made such account as that he would forget his study, & entangle himself in the snares of the love of riches, within the which so many miserable souls have been engaged unto death. His means served his turn to maintain himself among his friends, and to bring up his children: for he had many of an honourable Lady which he married, and loved most dearly. Among his other sons, himself maketh mention of Autobulus, of Plutarch, & of Charon, who died a young infant, & some others whom he nameth not at all. Also of daughters, two of the which were married to Firmus, and unto Craton, learned philosophers: and Timoxene, who died very young. As for Autobulus, he married in his father's life time, and it is not well known, whether Sextus of CHAERONEA, a Philosopher of the Scepts, who lived in great honour in the Empire of Antonius, was his son, or the son of Plutarch. That which I am now about to speak of, may be gathered out of diverse places in the works of Plutarch, and specially of the discourse at the table. And in the consolation which he wrote to his wife upon the death of their daughter, they may note that she was an honourable Lady, modest, and virtuous, well attended on with women and servants: and otherwise charitable to her children, and bearing great reverence unto her husband. That the house of Plutarch was very well governed: that he had a great number of kinsfolks and friends. And in other places of his book entitled Sympositum, and other treaties, we may know that his sons and nephews were studious and learned, and specially in the sixt question of his eight book of talk at the table, speaking of his youngest children: who because they tarried somewhat longer at the Theatre than they should have done, to see and hear the pastimes they made there, came by that means late to supper: it showed sufficiently that they now began to follow the father's steps. And there appeared in no partany evil touch amongst these persons: but as Plutarch did converse in a singular reverence, friendship, and gentleness, with his grandfather, his father, and his brethren: we are to judge the like conversation with his wife, his children, and his nephews: as also they being in so good a school could not fail but every day to go forward in the knowledge and practice of virtue.  
But as a fountain hidden serveth to no use, so it had little prevailed Plutarch to have seen, read, and gathered so much together, unless he had made little streams run from such a lively and goodly fountain, unto such places where his virtue might shine more then in any other parts of the world. That was ITALY, and the city of ROME, the seat of the Empire, and where (notwithstanding the disorders brought in by former wars, and by the dissolutions and tyrannies of some Emperors) notwithstanding there were many learned men, and in the Emperor's courts also some counsellors, and other persons of authority which loved virtue. Now Plutarch having begun to advance himself in GRECE, about the time of Vespasian and Titus, it seemeth he came to ROME immediately after the death of Titus, under Domitian, as well to make profession there of Philosophy, as also that he might more nearly know the ancient government of the commonwealth, and to increase his collections, from the which proceeded afterwards infinite particularities enclosed in his works: but especially the lives of the noble ROMANS' compared with the GREEKS'. For my part, I think Plutarch was drawn to ROME by means of some friends he had there, especially by Sossius Senecio, that had been a Consul, who was of great estimation at that time, and namely under the Empire of TRAIAN. And that which maketh me think so, is because of Plutarch's own words, who saith in the beginning of his first book of his discourse at the table, that he gathered together all his reasons and discourses made here and there, as well in ROME with Senecio, as in GRECE with Plutarch and others. Not being likely that he would have taken the pains to have made so long a voyage, & to have come to such a city where he understood not their vulgar tongue, if he had not been drawn thither by Senecio, and such other men: as also in acknowledgement of the good turns and honour he had received by such men, he dedicated diverse of his books unto them, and among others, the lives unto Senecio, and the nine volumes of his discourse at the table: with the treaty, How a man may know that he profiteth in virtue. Now for the time, considering what he saith in the end of his book against curiosity, I suppose that he taught in ROME in the time of Titus and of Domitian: for touching that point, he maketh mention of a noble man called Rusticus, who being one day at his lecture, he would not open a letter which was brought him from the Emperor, nor interrupt Plutarch, but attended the end of his declamation, and until all the hearers were go away: and addeth also, that Rusticus was afterwards put to death by the commandment of Domitian. Furthermore, about the beginning of the life of Demosthenes, Plutarch saith, that whilst he remained in ITALY and at ROME, he had no leisure to study the Latin tongue: as well for that he was busied at that time with matters he had in hand, as also to satisfy those that were his followers to learn Philosophy of him. He doth not tell what matters he had in hand besides his profession: but following that which Suidas and others speak of him, that he was near to the person of Traian, and had the honour and place to be his schoolmaster and teacher, or at the leastwise one of so many learned men as this prince made much of, as some story writers do testify, he was honoured and advanced to some charge or government: which I think is that he speaketh of in this place. Now furthermore, his chiefest labour was publicly to teach all the parts of Philosophy, mingling in his declamations and lectures a diligent and curious search of all that the ancient Philosophers, reasonable, natural, or moral, of what sect soever they were had treated of: as appeareth by his writings, which are as summaries of his lessons and orations he made with his own voice. His speech doth not flow so as that of many other Philosophers, Orators, and Greek Historians: but being come later, and in a more rude and harsh world, his style also is more hard, brief, enforced, and Philosopher like: aiming at this mark to instruct the mind first, not tarrying to tickle the ears much, though he did fill and content them learnedly. But the flowing sweetness we taste in Plato, in Xenophon, in Herodotus, and in some other, wanting indeed in Plutarch, is supplied and recompensed in him by infinite stories, sentences, similitudes, and notable particulars which he borroweth of others, and whereof he composed a work so well divided, so rich, and so pleasant, by reason of his variety, that it is not possible to read books of a more gentle and profitable reading, amongst all the historians, & Philosophers, GREEKS or ROMANS'. If Plutarch then doth at this present content all sorts of men, what may we think he did with his lively voice? but after the example of this Hercules of GAUL, which held his auditor's ears fast chained to his tongue: so hath he by his goodly documents moved an infinite number of men, to leave vice, and to clothe them with the love of virtue.  
So he having continued these exercises for some years, being heard and visited of all sorts of men, grew to be of such reputation, that the greatest persons began to seek him and to make much of him, yea to think themselves honoured by his friendship: as his books dedicated unto some of them do sufficiently testify it. And touching the access he had about the person of Traian himself, it may be gathered from the beginning of this goodly collection of Apothegms, which he dedicated unto this great Emperor, what was his intention: that is to wit, to serve for the good of all the ROMAN Empire, giving wholesome instructions unto the head thereof. For he wisely judged, that in ruling the thought of that man, it was to give physic at once unto all the subjects of that great Monarchy. The same being a common thing, that 
Subjects and kingdoms commonly do choose  
The manners that their Princes daily use.  It is true that such instructions in respect of Traian, do only concern his person and politic affairs. For as touching the only true religion, it was merely unknown of Plutarch, and rudely persecuted under the Empire of Traian: who notwithstanding in the end being softened by the precepts of moral Philosophy, and through the advertisements his deputy governors gave him, & namely Plinius secundus governor of BYTHINIA, of the innocency of the Christians: or rather restrained by the secret providence of our sovereign Lord, (who excellently strengthened his, put the Oracles of the lying spirit to silence, and overthrew Idolatry in most places) he carried himself more gently, and did forbidden to vex and trouble them any more, whom before they had pursued with all sorts of cruelties. Furthermore, I think that it was in favour of Traian chief, that Plutarch made certain particular Treatises, (besides the lives of Noblemen) and amongst others that, where he maintaineth, that it is requisite a Prince should be wise. The instruction for those that deal in the affairs of estate. The notable sayings of GREEKS' and ROMANS', and others concerning the duty of Princes and great Lords. Now considering that wherein he reasoneth, and briefly defendeth, (but gravely, and with assured proofs) that a Philosopher aught to converse with Princes: some may say that it is an Apology of Plutarch, against the common and light objections of some Courtiers, which think that Princes cannot be well counseled, but by men that blow (as they say) fire with their mouths, and that carry the rapier and dagger in their hands: and would that men of learning (whom in scorn they call schoolmasters and Philosophers) should be turned to their study, or into a school, to cry out there as much and as loud as they think good. Therefore he was willing as well to encourage himself first in that discourse, as also to remedy what in him lay, certain evils infinitely abounding and overflowing in others. In all times and ages every man hath granted and confessed, that amongst those that want good company, are Princes, Lords, and great personages. For their affairs being so important and weighty, as every man knoweth, their bodies being weak, and their spirits not able to dispatch all things: they must needs see by others eyes, and work with others hands. Whereupon there are three sorts of men which are to be reproved. For the first, they are the Princes themselves, who in stead of calling and drawing near unto them, men of honour that might help them in any matter, they give access unto ill-minded men, that corrupt them, and overthrow their estate. The second (but a small number at all times) are the Philosophers, that is to say, men of authority, wise, learned, lovers of virtue, and of the good of Princes and of their subjects: who being able to do much, yet they draw back: or being advanced, have not always that consideration nor courage that is fit, being oftentimes carried away with the greatest opinion, and mingling somewhat too much their human wisdom with the apprehension of their true duty: whereof their conscience being cleared diverse ways, doth sufficiently inform them. For the last, they are ignorant tutors, or Atheists, minions, shifters, jesters, flatterers, brokers of filthy pleasures, and such practisers, which by wicked means creep into Prince's Courts, houses and closerts. And in recompense of the charges they boldly accept, and of the treasures which they heap together with a wicked conscience, and do afterwards spend of the same, they do deceive, dishonour, and finally they undo their unwise masters: as a million of examples in histories do testify. Plutarch therefore considering these things, doth attempt in this Treatise to give courage unto those, that have a desire to see all things well ordered: and such manner of men doth he exhort to be about Princes. But because gravity and wisdom maketh men modest and slow: as to the contrary, ignorance & malice maketh them have brazen faces: he showeth that it is no ambition of a Philosopher to be about great Lords, but rather that his duty doth bear it, sithence that such receive honour, pleasure and profit: and this he proveth by reasons, & notable examples. But above all, he forgetteth not to set upon them that come to Prince's courts to make themselves great, showing that Philosophers should shoot at another mark. And last of all he treateth of the contentment those receive, which serving one alone, do by the same means help an infinite number of others that are bound unto them for so great a good turn. I have written at large the argument of this treaty of Plutarch, because it containeth the brief of all the conceits of this Philosopher coming to the Emperor: & it is a pattern also to all learned men that enter into service of great lords, the which if they will painfully follow, the chiefest may recover some part of their ancient glory. Now I make no doubt of it, but that Plutarch hath assayed by all possible means to practise that which he teacheth in this book, to gain to himself a great contentment in his soul, and to leave a good sent of him unto all posterity.  
The cause that maketh me speak this, is the consideration of the estate in the which the Empire of ROME stood in at that time, the which if any man will at leisure confer with that which he may gather out of many parts of Plutarch's works, he shall found the words of Plato very true: that happy are those commonwealths which are governed by Philosophers, or by Princes that have Philosophers about them. For like as an expert pilot by his skill and knowledge resisteth the winds and billows of the sea, and in despite of their force beareth sail to the desired haven: even so when the ship of the commonwealth hath a master that guideth it by the precepts of Philosophy, the government is peaceable and happy every way. And if any storm happen, and necessity requireth it, he finely plucketh down the sails, and yieldeth himself in such sort to the waves, that he escapeth and overcometh it with honour. Dion writeth, that one of the first acts Traian did, after he was chosen Emperor in the place of Nerua, was: that he wrote letters with his own hand to the Senate of ROME, promising by them he would never put any man to death, or make him infamous, that was an honest man: and this he afterwards confirmed by solemn oath. He put Aelianus and the soldiers Praetorians to death, because they mutined against Nerua. And after he had made his entry into ROME, he gave good order for the affairs of the estate, and specially favoured virtuous men many ways, granted them great privileges, and gave means to the cities of ITALY to bring up their youth. He reigned Emperor nineteen years and a half, being two and forty years old when he was chosen. His behaviour was such that he obtained the name of a just, valiant, moderate, & a good Prince: so that in the flower of his youth, they noted in him a stayed judgement, and in his age a great courage. He envied no man, he hurt no man, he raised good men to honourable place and charge in the commonwealth: whereby it came to pass that he was never afraid, nor had no enemy in the world. Accusers had no access unto him: he was as gentle a Prince as was possible, and as much an enemy of covetousness, as he was of murders and robberies. In time of peace and war he was at great charge in stately buildings, witness the wonderful bridge over Danuby. But with magnificence such enterprises and reparations ordinarily were necessary, without oppressing or wronging any man: for he was a noble Prince, that desired rather to be beloved of his subjects, then feared and much made of, as some of his predecessors. To mean men he showed himself courteous and easy to have access unto: grave and honourable among the Senators. The ROMANS' loved him as much as they could possible, and his enemies infinitely were afraid of him. His pas-times were hunting, feasting, and the Theatre to see common plays and sports. Oftentimes he would be private with his friends, and came without his guard into their houses, yea sometimes he would lie there, and pass away the night. He was not of the wisest, although by his behaviour they could not judge otherwise of him, but that he was a wise and learned Prince. There was nothing in him but it was excellent, and in manner blameless. For although he loved to drink wine, and delighted to see fair boys: yet for all this he never committed any foul act, being very wary in his passions, and above all, keeping himself from abusing his authority. He desired nothing but war, but it was principally to overcome his enemies, and to enrich his friends. Furthermore, he was so fortunate and brave a chieftain of an army, so beloved of his Captains and soldiers, that there was never any mutiny or disorder in his camp. That made him dreadful to those that troubled him near or far off, of which the chiefest was Decebalus king of the DACIANS: whom he pursued so hard, that being unpossible for him to escape, he killed himself. Furthermore he made war with the PARTHIANS, with the ARABIANS, and with the JEWS, with diverse events, but almost always to his advantage. Furthermore, to come to his manners, he loved so faithfully, that it was a hard thing to make him think evil of those whom he loved, which we will prove by some example. Certain ill-willers brought him word that Sura Licinius, one of his private friends did practise somewhat against him. In stead of taking it ill to conceive a hard opinion of him, he went (unbidden) into Sura his house, he would sup there, and sending back his guard, first he made Sura his Physician come to him, and showed him his eyes to help some grief that troubled him: not being so contented, he sendeth for his Barber to shave his beard: then being trimmed, and having washed, he sat down at the table and supped▪ The next morning some reporting unto him the ill will that Sura did bear him: If he would have killed me, said he, yesterday he might have done it, for he had means to do it. This Sura was he unto whom Traian had given the office of the great Marshal of the Empire: and coming to him to tie his girdle baldric wise about his neck, having the sword drawn in his hand, he used this speech unto him: Receive this sword of me, and if I command as I aught, employ it in my defence: if I do otherwise, draw it against me, and take my life from me. He caused statues to be set up of Sossius Senecio, of Palma, and of Celsus, who were all three Senators whom above all others he loved and honoured. He set up Libraries, and did many notable acts, in testimony of his great courage. But that which most of all other doth commend him, is, that having done wonderful much good to the Empire, by decree of the Senate, he was surnamed Optimus Imperator: that is to say, most good Emperor. And so was he wonderfully beloved of the Senators, and Officers of the Empire, of all the people, and specially of the soldiers, amongst whom he would be so familiar as if they had been his companions. Furthermore, nothing pleased him so much as this title of Optimus: wherein he gloried amongst his friends, and did more and more endeavour to show himself so. As also after him (as Eutropius reporteth) when any new Emperor was chosen by the Senate, after the shouts of happy presage, and well wish of the Senators, they cried out unto him: What, canst thou be more fortunate than Augustus, and better than Traian! Now if we bring to the writings of Plutarch the life of this Prince, we will say that the Prince did always think of the wise precepts of the Philosopher: and on the other side that the Philosopher hath framed the deeds of the Prince to the rule of good life, which he hath so fitly propounded to great and mean men. And therefore it is not to be marveled at, if Plutarch declare (to the high praise of Traian and the Senate) in his treaty, where he instructeth those that deal in public affairs: that in his time for peace sake, people had no need of wise governors to defend them: for (said he) all the wars against the GREEKS' and barbarous people are fled from us. Thus standeth the estate of the Empire, the which if any man will particularly confer with that which Plutarch setteth down in his writings: he shall found it was happy to have met with so well disposed hearts, to receive, and carefully to practise his goodly lessons. And that as it was a singular honour to Traian by his virtue to have obtained a surname that made him greater than the most part of the ROMAN Emperors: so is Plutarch every way to be commended, that was the excellent instrument to advance and maintain so great a good. Whereupon I desire his Morals should be specially remembered, to apply that which he speaketh of vice and virtue, unto that which hath been touched in the life of Traian. For I think the one can hardly be spoken of, but that the other by the same means must be remembered. And it seemeth that one self soul hath put forward these two hearts, both to give and receive one commendable instruction. Only for proof a man may with his eye run over two or three discourses. As for example, that of the difference betwixt the flatterer and the friend: Against choler: How a man may know if he profit in the exercise of virtue: That it is requisite a Prince should be wise: The instruction for those which deal in the affairs of the estate: The apothegms: and there shall a man found the rules which the Emperor Traian could wisely apply to himself, and practise in all his actions.  
So could he well acknowledge the good he had received of Plutarch, being a noble and bountiful Prince, as hath been said here-before. For, besides the great honour he had done him at ROME, having made him a Consul: he commanded (as saith Suidas) that all the magistrates and officers which were in the Province of SLAVONY, should do nothing but under his authority. If we had the books of Marius Maximus, of Fabius Marcellinus, of Aurelius Verus, and of Statius Valens, which have written the life of Traian: we might easily draw on this matter further, the which Suidas (according to his style) is contented to touch in one word. And Dion who was a GREEK, a man very forgetful for an Historian, and that in some places showed he had no great judgement: he seemeth to have suppressed the name of Plutarch, as though he had been offended with the fame obtained by this man. Or else, if one will take things in good part, as I incline unto it: it may be he thought he needed make no mention of one whose writings made him to be known sufficiently. Yet furthermore, I do not found that Plutarch was in SLAVONIE at all, and if so be that he made any journey thither, I think he tarried not long there: because it appeareth in diverse places of his works, that his abode was most in ITALY and in GRECE. And for his honourable charges committed unto him, that should not be thought very strange, if we consider the merits of Plutarch, the names of Traian, and the goodwill that Sossius Senecio, (one of the principal men of ROME, and of the chiefest favourites of Traian) bore unto Plutarch. For he that was in so great credit with his master, would not forget him whom he loved above all other men: wherein he lost not his time, forasmuch as the statue that was set up for him, and that which Dion and some others do briefly pass over, do not commend Sossius, as do the prefaces of honour, and the books which Plutarch dedicated unto him. The which we need no more rehearse, then to writ over again the Epistle of Plutarch unto Traian, the which is written in Latin, as Amyot showeth in his preface of the lives: where he hath inserted the Epistle at length, because he thought it wisely and gravely written, a brief worthy of such a Philosopher as Plutarch. That which Cuspinianus saith in the latter end of the life of Traian, seemeth to touch that: speaking also, as if it had been expressed out of Greek into Latin. But time hath deprived us of that, and of many other goodly pieces of the self same, as we have somewhat spoken of it before in the beginning of the Moral works. Now he hath written nothing touching his behaviour in his public charge, but contenteth himself to speak a word sometime passing by, because he made no account of any thing but of Philosophy, through the help whereof he assayed to make himself and others wiser, and more virtuous every day than other. Being a thing very likely that such a man as had so painfully considered of the estate of the world, and of all sorts of public governments, and had joined his studies with so great experience: that he hath happily managed the charges that were committed unto him. To conclude, to live as we should amongst men, the speculation and knowledge of things being joined with the practice of the same, do bring forth excellent effects: whereas those that do content themselves with the simple theoric, and others that follow exercise, contemning the true understanding of the causes and grounds of affairs, as Philosophy doth show them: they oftentimes fall into wonderful difficulties.  
For Plutarch, though he tarried a long time in ITALY and in ROME, yet that took not away the remembrance of the sweet air of GRECE, and of the little town where he was borne: but being touched from time to time with a sentence of an ancient Poet, who said, that  

In whatsoever country men are bred,  
(I know not by what sweetness of it led,)  
They nourish in their minds a glad desire  
Unto their native homes for to retire:   
He resolved to go back into GRECE again, there to end the rest of his days in rest and honour amongst his citizens, of whom he was honourably welcomed home. Some judge that he left ROME after the death of Traian, being then of great years, to lead a more quiet life. So being then at rest he earnestly took in hand that which he had long thought of before, to wit, the Lives: and took great pains in it until he had brought his work to perfection, as we have done at this present: although that some lives, as those of Scipio African, of Metellus Numidicus, and some others are not to be found. Now himself confesseth in some place, that when he began this work, at the first it was but to profit others: but that afterwards it was to profit himself, looking upon those histories, as if he had looked in a glass, and seeking to reform his life in some sort, and to form it in the mould of the virtues of these great men: taking this fashion of searching their manners, and writing the lives of these noble men, to be a familiar haunting and frequenting of them. Also he thought (said he himself) that he lodged these men one after the other in his house, entering into consideration of their qualities, and that which was great in either of them, choosing and principally taking that which was to be noted, and most worthy to be known in their sayings and deeds. In sum, he declared that by continuance of reading ancient histories, and in drawing out the lives which he hath written, and receiving daily in his understanding the memorable things of the most honest and virtuous men of times past: he instructed himself, and prepared him to lay aside all evil, foolish, dishonest, or spiteful condition: if by chance by often frequenting their company he must of necessity keep, he learned any evil touch. The which he did reform, turning his quiet thought not stirred with any passion at all, to the consideration of so many goodly examples. Now because that some might object unto him, that for the finishing of so great a piece of work, he could not have made choice of a fit place than ROME: or rather that being a man given to his book as he was, he should have left that work unto some other that had seen more. This objection being of some weight, he answereth it at the beginning of the life of Demosthenes, and saith: That to attain to true felicity, whereof the greatest part consisteth in the manners, qualities and conditions of the soul: it maketh no matter whether a man be borne in an obscure town and of small name, no more than if he were borne of a foul or little mother. For it were a mockery to think that some small towns or little islands could notwithstanding bring forth good Poets and excellent players of Comedies: & that they could not in like sort bring out an honest, just, constant, wise, and noble or worthy man. And although we have reason to think that arts and sciences invented to make things necessary for the use of men, or else to win a name and reputation, are made and counterfeited in poor little towns: so we must also think that virtue, none otherwise then a strange plant can take foot and root in any place, where it meeteth with a good nature, gentle and patiented to endure pains. Wherefore if we come to commit any error, or that we live otherwise then becometh us, we must not accuse or blame the meanness of our country, but justly attribute the fault to ourselves. It is true (saith he) that he that hath undertaken to frame a piece of work, or to writ any history, in the which many things should be put, not familiar in his country, and that they found not always at their hand every where, but strange for the most part, dispersed here and there, and that must be gathered from many places and divers authors: in truth he must first and before all other things devil in a great and noble city, full of people, and a great number of men loving goodly and honest things, to the end there may be store of books, and that in searching up and down, and hearing them tell with lively voice many things, which other storywriters peradventure have left unwritten, and that shall bear so much more credit, because they are fresh in memory of the living: he may make his work complete and perfect in all things, and not wanting many things that should be necessary for it. Having made this preface, he excuseth himself, that he could not profit so much in knowledge of the Latin tongue, as he desired, and showeth how he did help himself. But forasmuch as it is in this work of his Lives that Plutarch hath most showed his sufficiency, whether you consider the length of the work, or try with what judgement he hath proceeded: peradventure it will not be hurtful to speak somewhat of it, beside that which hath been spoken by his Translator in the Preface. I do not enter here into commendation of History in general, nor we need not apply that unto Plutarch, which Cicero and many others have spoken. For if ever there were book, next to that we call the holy Scriptures, it may be said, that that which containeth the lives of the noble GREEKS' and ROMANS', is an assured testimony of many hundreds of years, a Sun of verity, a life of memory, a true mistress of life, and an excellent messenger of antiquity. And as the stone called the Opal, showeth many Orient colours above all other precious stones: so doth the lives of Plutarch make an abridgement of all the best things contained in the Greek and Latin histories. For there are seen worthy examples of vices and virtues, an infinite number of Maxims and notable precepts touching the duties of every one, their virtues and vices. Now although Plutarch in the ignorance and blindness of the true God, could not (no more than other profane Historians) touch the true end of history: yet we may note some admirable thing in him in that respect. Since history (which containeth in it an infinite number of particular deeds and honourable actions, as the collection of the lives of Plutarch) is a goodly or glistering glass or table, within the which may be discerned the wonders and admirable working of the divine Providence: for to comprehend that well which God and men do, there are three things to be considered in every history: to wit, the men whereof there is question, the things worthy of memory, and the circumstances, keeping this ground against the Epicurians and enemies of man's life: That there is a Godhead and supernatural power which governeth and maintaineth the world, wherein nothing happeneth by chance, but all is guided by a most wise disposition of the same, for the preservation of families, of civil policy, and of a company and happy congregation that shall be taken out of this world into a better. A wise and learned Historian must have an eye upon these three things, for to apply them unto three other virtues that aught to shine in him: verity, moderation, and eloquence. Forsomuch as if he set out fables, or if he talk to no purpose, and make discourses at pleasure, or if he be troublesome in a speech not coherent and hanging well together: then he deserveth no more the name of an Historian. As for these virtues, I do assure myself that every man of judgement will agreed, that they are readily to be found in Plutarch, accompanied with a sweet gravity that always pleaseth the reader, and giveth him at a hundred times reading as good a savour and taste of him as at the first. Let a man look upon stories that have nothing in them but the name, and upon so many books ill composed, of the which Europe is full: they shall found that the parts necessary to be observed in the persons is nothing at all regarded: that those which think to represent others, they do sample them after a strange fashion. Thereupon the affections and passions, the hatred, the envy, evil speaking, false reports, flatteries & lies, present themselves so untowardly that they mar all. To the contrary, we see Plutarch very exact in that respect. It sufficeth me to touch the things passing by: whether he show the vices or virtues of great and mean persons, he doth it in good terms, without aggravating or making it less. He taketh no manner of pleasure to speak evil of any, but wisely hideth that whereof we aught not to speak but with shame and compassion of man's infirmity. And he is more inclined to commend the good in vicious persons, than too much to set open the shops of their wickedness. But if necessity enforce him unto it, it is with such manifest proofs, that others which are wicked seeing him wash the head of their companions, they are compelled to hung down their heads, and to condemn their wicked thoughts. Now touching matters that aught to be remembered in histories, therein are to be considered, the counsels, executions, and accidents. For counsels, who noteth better than he the wickedness of those which ask counsel of the world, of the unconstant multitude, of men of as little judgement as themselves, or of themselves? With what grace doth he lay open the errors committed by Xerxes, Pyrrhus, Marius, and infinite others? And though evil counsel prospero for a time, yet the eternal wisdom, hath a secret intention to bring things to pass, which the wisdom of man cannot see till it be done: as Plutarch doth finely discover them in the life of Cato Utican, and of others. The executions are of divers sorts, according to the workmen and their means. In this point, Plutarch is admirable, showing particularly infinite thoughts in actions which he representeth: so that for one self deed he giveth always entrance and direction unto the studious reader, to make half a dousin of sundry rules for the direction of man's life: he was ever so fortunate to comprehend all things well, and to draw that which was to be offered unto the view of posterity. If accidents come in question, he can excellently refer them to the counsels, and draw out goodly instructions for all sorts of men. Now there remaineth the circumstances of times, of places, of people, and others so diligently searched out in Plutarch, that in this matter he seemeth to have surmounted himself. To prove all that hath been presently spoken in few words, behold here the book lieth open, and under the indifferent examination of the learned and virtuous men.  
I am not ignorant thatsome men well thought of among the learned men of our time, have veryboldly censured Plutarch, accusing him of ignorance: also that he had written things incredible, fabulous, and that he had made unapt comparisons. For his ignorance, that hath been sufficiently handled heretofore speaking of Plutarch's tongue. And if we must speak of the sufficiency of an Historian, I think it is most excellent in him: howbeit I shall not need to defend him, seeing that he defendeth himself sufficiently well. If he be mistaken in some circumstances, and that they discover some fault in his memory, or of discordance condemned by many other Historians: that deserveth not so sharp a reprehension. And for all the rest, I will add too the answer of a noble person well studied in Plutarch's lecture, for that it sufficeth and fully agreeth with that which we now speak of. And these be his words: If one had spoken simply that Plutarch reciteth things otherwise then they be, it was no great reproach: for those things which we have not seen, we take them at other men's hands of credit: and I see that to his knowledge he reporteth at times one self history diversly. As the judgement of three of the best Captains that ever were, given by Hannibal, is otherwise set down in the life of Flaminius: and contrary again in the life of Pyrrhus. But to charge him to have taken for ready money things uncredible, and also unpossible: it is even to accuse for want of judgement, the author of the best judgement in the world. And here is the example which they allege, to wit, that Plutarch said that a child of LACEDAEMON suffered his belly to be torn out by a fox he had stolen, & hid under his gown, even to suffer death rather than to bewray his theft. First of all I found this example very evil chosen to bond the endeavours of the faculties of the soul, whereas for corporal forces we have more law to limit and know them. For this cause, if I had had to do withal, I would rather have chosen an example of this second sort, and they are less credible. As amongst others, that which he reciteth of Pyrrhus: that being hurt as he was, he gave his enemy armed at all pieces such a blow with his sword, that he clave his head down to the lowest parts, so that the body fell asunder in two parts. In the other example I found no great wonder, neither do I like the excuse they make for Plutarch, for that he added too this word, (as they say) to advise us, and to be wary in our carriage and behaviour. For unless it be in things received by authority, or in reverence of antiquity or of religion, he would not himself have received, nor have made us believe things of themselves incredible. And that this word (as they say) is not used in that place to that purpose, is easy to be judged: for that he himself reporteth in another place upon the subject of the patience of the children of LACEDAEMON, of examples that fell out in his time unlikelier, to persuade us. As that which Cicero also hath testified before him: for that he was (as he said) even in the very places: that even till their time there were children, for proof of patience, that were tried before the altar of Diana, who suffered themselves to be whipped until the blood ran down their legs, not only without crying, but also without weeping, yea and some of them even to death. And that which Plutarch telleth with an hundred witnesses: that at a sacrifice a burning coal being fallen into a boys sleeve of the LACEDÆMONIANS, as he was censing: he suffered all his arm to be burnt, until the very savour of the burnt flesh came to them that were present. There was nothing according to their custom that did more disgrace them, and for the which they should suffer more reproach and shame, then to be taken stealing. I am so instructed with the greatness of these men there, that it seems to me, that this report which Plutarch made should not be incredible, or not so much as rare or strange. Marcellus also reporteth, touching this matter of theft: that in his time there could be found no manner of torture or torment how cruel soever, that could force the EGYPTIANS taken with theft, (whereunto they were accustomed and hardened) once to tell their names. I know that there were certain poor countrymen, in the miserable civil wars, that did endure the frying of the soles of their feet against the fire, and the nipping of their fingers ends, to thrust their bloody eyes out of their heads, their foreheads being fast bound with a great cord, before they would be ransomed. I have seen one left stark naked in a ditch for dead, having his neck swollen with a halter tied about it, with the which they had dragged him at a horse tail all night long, his body thrust in with a dagger in an hundred places, not to kill him, but to make him full of pain: who had endured all that, having lost his speech and senses, resolved (as he told me) to die a thousand deaths, rather than to promise' any thing, and he was one of the richest labourers in all the country. We must not judge that which is possible and that which is not, as it is credible and uncredible to our capacity. It is also a great fault, (into the which notwithstanding the most part of men do fall) to make it nice to believe that thing of another man, which we ourselves cannot do. This is that which this person answereth unto the objection made, touching the fact of the boy of LACEDAEMON set out to accuse our Plutarch overthwartly with a lie. The other example which they allege of incredible things, and altogether fabulous, spoken by Plutarch, is: that Agesilaus was condemned in a fine by the ephors, because he alone had won the hearts and goodwills of all his citizens. I know not what note of falsehood they found in that: but so it is, that Plutarch speaketh of things which he should better know than we. It was no new thing in GRECE to see men punished and banished only for that they were too great with their Citizens: witness the Ostracism and Petalisme. And where they accuse Plutarch, that he did not well sort the GREEKS' with the ROMANS': witness, Demosthenes and Cicero, Aristides and Cato, Lysander and Sylla, Pelopidas and Marcellus, Agesilaus and Pompey; judging that he favoured the GREEKS', for that he gave them companions so little resembling them: which is justly to blame Plutarch for that wherein he was most excellent and praise▪ worthy. For in his comparisons (which is the most admirable part of his works, and in the which (in my opinion) he took more delight than in any other of his writings) the fidelity and sincerity of his judgements, equalleth their profoundness and their weight. He is a Philosopher that teacheth us virtue. Let us see if we can defend him from this reproach of malice and falsehood. I think that which hath been the cause of this censure, is the great shining colour of the names of the ROMANS' which we have in hand. It appeareth not to us that Demosthenes can equal the glory of a Consul, Proconsul, or Quaestor of this great commonwealth. But he that shall consider the truth of the thing, & the men in themselves, whereat Plutarch ever most aimed: and to weigh their manners, their dispositions, their sufficiency and their fortune: I think to the contrary, that Cicero and old Cato are indebted to their companions. For the purpose of this censure, I would rather have chosen the example of the younger Cato compared unto Photion: for in this comparison there might be found a more likely disparity to the advantage of the ROMAN. For Marcellus, Sylla, and Pompey, I see well that their exploits of war are more puffed up, glorious and sumptuous, than those of the GREEKS which Plutarch compareth with them. But the most fair and virtuous actions are not always (no more than in wars) the most famous: I oftentimes see the names of Captains drowned by the glory of other men's names of less merit: witness, Labienus, Ventidius, Telesinus, and divers others. And to take it from thence, if I were to complain me for the GREEKS', might I say that much less is Camillus comparable unto Themistocles, the Gracchis unto Agis and Cleomenes, Numa unto Lycurgus, and Scipio unto Epaminondas, which were also of his roll. But it is a folly to judge things on a sudden of so many men. When Plutarch compareth them, he doth therefore equal them. Who could more eloquently or conscionably note the disparities and differences? Doth he come to compare the victories, the exploits of arms, the power of armies led by Pompey, & his triumphs, with those of Agesilaus? I do not believe, said he, that Xenophon himself if he were alive, although that they suffered him to writ what he would to the advantage of Agesilaus: durst put him in comparison. Doth he speak to compare Sylla with Lysander? There is no comparison, said he, neither in number of victories, nor in hazard of battles: for Lysander won only but two battles by sea, etc. That taketh away nothing from the ROMANS'. To have simply presented them to the GREEKS', he could have done them no injury, what disparity soever there might be: neither doth he weigh them also all together: in the great there is no preferencie. He hath compared the pieces and circumstances one after another, and judgeth them severally. Wherefore if they would convince him of favour, they must unfold some particular judgement, or to say in general that he had failed to match such a GREEK with such a ROMAN: because there were others fit to be compared, and of better report. So much for this point. There are other that have blamed the length of Plutarch's discourses, also that he hath mingled many light things, & that he delighteth to thrust in many verses of Poets, without any necessity, say they: judging that he did that to loose no part of his memories, & so hath confusedly put all pieces together in his work. But that which hath been spoken of before, answereth that objection. And to accuse Plutarch to have wanted judgement, (he that hath always been very discreet in his writings, as he protesteth at the beginning of his book of fatal destiny) is to show himself mad, and out of his wits. Those things that men judge to be small are not so always, if they be better considered of: neither is his length so far out of square and troublesome, neither is that out of the matter, which he intermingleth of the Poets, but is spoken to good purpose, and oftentimes upon good ground of advice in matters of great weight: whereof his works shall make proof whosoever will examine them without passion.  
But now let us leave these censors to think more advisedly hereafter what they speak, and come again to Plutarch: who after his return to GRECE, gave himself more to his book than he did before: and notwithstanding he was very old, he made an end of his Lives. And furthermore, continuing still the love he bore unto his country: he employed himself in divers Offices of the commonwealth, whereof he maketh mention also in sundry places of his Morals, and especially in the book where he instructeth those that deal in the affairs of estate. For he saith there these words: I answer them that reprove me when they found me present in our town, to see them measure, and tell brick, and tile, stones, sand, and lime which they bring: that it is not for myself that I build, but for the Commonwealth. And in his Treatise, Whether an old man should yet deal in the affairs of estate. Thou knowest (said he, writing unto Euphanes) that there are many Pythiades, that is to say, many terms of five years that I do exercise the Priesthood of Apollo PYTHIAN: yet I think thou wouldst not say to me, Plutarch, thou hast sacrificed enough, thou hast made processions enough, thou hast led many dances: and now that thou art old and ancient, it is time thou leave thy crown off thy head, and abandon the oracle, because of thy age. At the beginning of the eight question of the sixt book of his discourse at the table, he mentioneth his Office of being Mayor of the town of CHAERONEA. To conclude, even to the end of his life he showed in his deeds, that which he excellently handled in his writings: which is, that there is nothing letteth old men to serve and profit their commonwealth in divers sorts of government, whether it be with good words, with good counsel, with liberty and authority to speak boldly, and with grave respect, as the Poets say. For they are not the feet, nor the hands, nor all the strength of the body only, which are the parts and good of the commonwealth: but they are first of all and principally the soul, and the beauties thereof: as justice, temperance, and wisdom, the which coming late to their perfection, it were to no purpose they should enjoy a house, land, & all other inheritances of his citizens, and that it could receive no more any profit by them for the good of the Commonwealth, because of their long time, the which doth not so much deprive them of strength and ability to do service, as it doth increase them with sufficiency and knowledge of faculties requisite to command and govern. Furthermore Plutarch having lived always honourably even to old age, he died quietly among his children and friends in the city of CHAERONEA, leaving in his writings an immortal savour of his name unto posterity. Besides the honour his citizens did him, there was a statue set up for him by ordinance of the people of ROME, in memory of his virtue. Now furthermore, though time hath devoured some part of the writings of this great man, and minished some other: nevertheless those which remain being a great number, have excellent use to this day among us. Howbeit, having met with some fragments in Stobeus, of some Treaties which are not to be found any more, I thought it would not mislike the reader to cull out some pieces to present them unto him, to shut up all this discourse. Wisdom, saith he, (in the book Of the profit which knowledge bringeth of the time to come) consisteth not in show, but in affairs, before a man setteth too his hand: and showeth how he should come before them, and receive them when they be offered him: for it considereth the things to come. The body hath no eyes but before, the back seethe nothing at all: but wisdom by help of memory, seethe even the things that are past and go. It is the Secretary which always remaineth and abideth within, as Plato saith. It is the part or instrument of the soul which taketh hold of things past, keepeth them, and layeth them up safe, making a circle, within the which that that is passed joineth with the thing present, and will not suffer it to extend itself beyond compass, and to pass the bounds of nature and knowledge. Of the Book against pleasure. Pleasure undoth the body, and daily maketh it tender by deliciousness, the common use whereof cutteth down the lustiness and consumeth the strength, so that weakness and sickness do abound, and in youth they begin to wax old. Voluptuousness is a beast that maketh men slaves, but yet no savage beast: for if she did openly assail any body, there would soon be an end: but she is so much more dangerous, because she hideth her ill courage, and taketh upon her the habit of goodwill. We must shun her therefore for two causes, the one, that she should not hurt us, the other, that she should not seduce us. Let us no more call voluptuousness honest pleasures, but rather acknowledge that they be troubles, services and duties: and esteem the rest as shameful and violent things, which by their diversity flatter us, and in the mean time finely hurt us. Now ourselves and affairs aught to be subject to the same law that the brute beasts are: to the end that when we have satisfied our desire, we have no new mind to covet further, but that our moderate pleasures be contented when they have things necessary. Is there any man that will commend traitors? Now pleasure is even such a one: for she betrayeth all that dependeth upon virtue. Doth any body esteem hangmen much? See notwithstanding what it is to follow sensuality, which tormenteth and rendeth asunder all moderate things. Will any man commend avarice? Voluptuousness is as unsatiable as the love of money. What pleasure can we take of a beast that destroyeth us by flattery? I ask, why dost thou not play the fool and knave in the presence of all men? To the contrary thou fliest, and bearest reverence to thyself, abusing thyself in the night and darkness which cannot depose against thee. No man seeketh to hide him that doth well, nor is afraid of the light that is round about him: but rather to the contrary, he would all the world were become a bright Sun, to give light to all the parts of the good works he doth. But if he happen to commit any fault, he doth all his possible endeavour to hide it, and blameth his passion. Now let us take away the veil, and openly muse upon these pleasures. They make us drunk, even to loose our senses: they continually make knaves and drowsy lubbers to follow harlots when they should labour: enemies of man's life, neither caring for father nor mother, voided of all reverence unto the laws. In the Book that treateth, how women should be taught and learned. It is no easy thing to hide his ignorance, saith Heraclitus: and much less than when he hath drunk more than ordinary. Plato saith also, that the thought is discovered by wine: as much to say, after a man hath drunk too much. Sophocles blamed Aeschylus, because he wrote his tragedies when he had drunk out of measure: for, saith he, though Aeschilus' doth well, yet he knoweth not what he doth. Pythagoras' being asked how it could be brought to pass, that a drunkard should abstain from being drunk? If he remembered said he, oftentimes what he did when he was drunk. It is a common saying in every man's mouth, Let not the child have a knife. And I say, keep riches from a child, and ignorance from a man. Of the Book of accusation. Hippias said, there was nothing so intolerable as accusation: because there was no punishment ordained by law for accusers, as there was for thieves: although they stole friendship from men, which is the goodliest riches a man can have. So that an outrage of fact though it be great, is less than accusation, which doth much more hurt because it is hidden. Of the discourse or Epistle of friendship. He is a true witness of the truth, that is not bound by benefit unto him that bringeth him forth, and that speaketh before the judges without exception of person. We must win love by gentleness and bounty, rather than by menaces: and for the commonwealth, wisdom and gentleness should be joined together. Agrippinus in his government, attempted to persuade them whom he condemned to loose goods and life: that it was expedient for them they should be condemned. For, said he, I do not pronounce sentence against you, as a thief passing by should say, Deliver thy purse, or thou art dead: but I do that as your tutor, and one that hath a care of you: like unto the Physician that comforteth his patient from whom he would cut some member, and persuadeth him to be ruled. Cotis king of THRACIA was very cruel unto his subjects: and when one of his familiars told him, That is called fury not kingly government. But so it is, answered the king, that this fury of mine maketh my subjects wise and quiet. Of the book against the strength of the body. Dost thou think the strength of the body to be so great a happiness, that thou wilt conclude that nature which hath given more strength to beasts then to men, should be mother to them, and stepmother to the other? Dost thou think it is by reason of the massivenes or weight, or by the swiftness or strength of the eyes? The true strength of men consisteth in discourse of the soul, by means whereof he hunteth in the forests, and taketh the Elephants in a snare: he rideth horse and breaketh them, he bringeth oxen subject to the yoke, he beateth down birds with bolts, and catcheth with angles fish that lie hidden in the bottom of waters. There is his strength, which is seen much better, when he considereth at his ease, the roundness of the earth, the breadth of the Element, and the revolutions of the stars. Such were the worthy exercises of Hercules. And who had not rather be Ulysses, than Polyphemus the CYCLOPIAN? Also when one spoke much in commendation of a venturous and hardy man, as if he had been some brave soldier: There is great difference, said Aratus the SICYONIAN, betwixt esteeming virtue, and regarding life nothing. Of the book of Divination. It is most apparent that from the beginning Necessity invented and polished certain arts, which she doth keep even till this present. It is she that hath taught all things. For, is there any thing that necessity hath not thought of? she hath brought forth the occupation of weaving, of building, the art of Physic, tilling of the ground, and all that belongs unto it. There be other crafts also found out, I cannot tell by what pleasure: as Perfumers, Apothecaries, Cooks, and others that serve for ornaments of the body: also Painters. Again, there are sciences which men seek, learn, and teach, because of the probable and apparent reason which they discover, and for the beauty of them: as Arithmetic, Geometry, and all others consisting in measures and proportions, than Astrology. And yet though we contemn them, nevertheless because of their excellency, we are constrained in some sort to know them, saith Plato. Of the Treaty, That love and judgement are diverse things. Some say, that love is the faculty of the soul, which we call understanding: others, that it is a concupiscence or voluptuousness: others, that it is a madness: and there are that think it is, I cannot tell what divine agitation of the soul: and others that make it a God. This disputation hath made that some have judged, and rightly, that from the beginning, love is a simple desire or lust: but if it exceed, it is fury. Also that friendship doth resemble it. If love be despised, it begetteth melancholy: if it increase as wished, he that is possessed withal hath a thousand conceits and fantastical imaginations, and doth imagine all the greatness and favours of heaven and earth. And this is the reason why the Poets say, that love is a Torch: and the Painters, Potters, and Statuaries do represent it in that estate. For that part of the fire which doth give light, is very pleasing, profitable and commodious: but that which burneth, bringeth nothing but trouble and sorrow. Like as it is a good thing to reprove and admonish our friends, and such as belong unto us, whilst they be in their right wits, and capable of judgement and understanding: so to the contrary, if they be light headed and distraught of their wits, we do not use then to reason and contest with them, but we rather do yield to that they say. So must we freely and lively reprove them, that commit a fault through choler or covetousness: but as for lovers, they must be excused because they be sick. And therefore from the beginning, it were the best way not to suffer love to take root in them: if it do, repair then to the altars of the gods that give remedy, as Plato saith, that is to say, keep company with wise men. Drive this beast far from thee, before his teeth and nails do grow: if not, thou must fight with the evil when it is great and full grown, the which thou didst embrace in thine infancy and youth. But which are these teeth and nails of love? Suspicion and jealousy. Now some will say to me that there is also I know not what, a thing that draweth, and is pleasant. So had this famous Sphinx wings of diverse colours, very pleasant to behold: for when he turned them to the beams of the Sun, they shined like gold: and when he was against the clouds, one would have said it had been azure mingled with yellow and read, like the rainbow in the Element. Love after the same sort hath in it (I know not how) a gracious, gentle, and fair show. But it destroyeth men, overthroweth houses, dissolveth marriages, and confoundeth great Captains, without propounding of hard Enigmas or questions to be resolved: but himself being so taken that he cannot be freed. For example. If one asked: What is that which at one instant loveth and hateth, flieth and pursueth, threateneth and prayeth, angreth and flattereth, taketh and leaveth, laugheth and weary with a breath? it is a knot which one cannot easily undo. Furthermore, the Sphinx had many things devised for pleasure, mingled in the midst of his Enigma. For though an old man go with a staff, yet he hath not three feet: and the little child is not a beast with four feet, although he creep of all four, helping his weak legs with his two hands. But there be no such Enigmas in the passions of lovers. They love and hate, desire the thing absent, and fear the thing present: they flatter and do injury, they die and kill themselves for the thing they love: they desire not to love, and yet will not leave to love: they repent them and wax blind: they become wise, and yet cast themselves away: they will command, & yet yield themselves slaves. And therefore it is that such a passion is holden for a pure rage: as also Eurypides doth confess it. Now love is not begotten upon a sudden, nor doth not invade all the person, as choler doth: but it kindleth by little and little, as a little fire. It slippeth in softly, and when it hath possessed the soul, it dislodgeth not easily: but we see it sometimes lusty and fresh even in old men that have white hairs. If it cease, and begin to cool by succession of time, or that it be dead by some accident: it doth not altogether leave the soul, or the substance of his fire consumed, where the marks of his heat passed are to be seen, as if lightning had passed thorough there. As for the sorrow past and the choler after it is quenched, there is no spark left in the soul, but they perceive that the inflammation of the passion which made a great noise is quiet: but the bites of love, albeit the beast be go, do not therefore loose their venom, but the inward wounds do renew and refresh themselves again. To be short, no man knoweth what such a passion meaneth, nor how it cometh, nor from whence it slipped into the heart. In the books where he disputeth for beauty. Are not men compounded of body and soul? Is the one enough for us without the other? how could that be? for if the body were not governed by the soul, it would not live, and the soul had need of a place to be kept and lodged in. Since then both the one and the other are adorned with gifts proper unto them: the soul with justice, temperance, and wisdom: and the body with force, beauty and health: were it not to be wondered at, if one despised that which concerneth the body, & that he made no reckoning but of the goods of the soul? Corporal beauty is a work of the soul, which maketh a present of this gift to the body. For when the soul is go, there remaineth nothing good in the body. The strength, the colour, the sight, and the voice do vanish. To conclude, the body being abandoned of his ancient inhabitants, there is nothing left that is amiable. Thou therefore that accusest beauty, unwares thou speakest outrage to the soul, which is cause of this beauty. Aristotle to one that asked him, why a man did love fair things? answered: It is for a blind man to ask such a question. Diogenes called fair Courtesans, Queens, because many do execute that which they command. Of the Book against Nobility. What do we think that Nobility is, but riches gathered together by ancestors, or some honour attained unto long time before? whereof the one nor the other proceedeth not of our will: but the one cometh by unconstant fortune, the other proceedeth from the disorders of the world. So then this proud name of Nobility floweth from two strange springs. Now riches maketh not those that are born like unto them: but virtue proceeding from the sincere habitude of the spirit, is planted in the race of the virtuous, and doth make them truly noble. In this is true Nobility, to wit: the conformity unto virtuous manners. But I pray you, king Midas riches, were they more rich than the poverty of Aristides? although he left not wherewithal to defray his charges of funeral. To the contrary, king Midas tomb passed for magnificence all the riches of the world: but Nobility is not enclosed in gold nor silver. Vice is rightly compared unto fire: for when neither the one nor the other wanteth nurture, it goeth out. But the baseness of the race of Socrates the Philosopher, the son of an Imagegraver, and of a midwife: is it not more noble than the glory of Sardanapalus? Thou shouldest not think Xerxes more noble than Cynegyrus, who had one of his hands cut off fight for his country: since the other fled to save his life, being a king environed with cowardliness. Of the Treaty against riches. Hunger never gave any man cause to be an adulterer: nor want of money hath made any man dissolute. poverty is a kind of temperance, and need may be called a summary observation of the laws. Arcesilaus said, poverty was rude, no less than the Isle of ITHACA: but furthermore, a good nurse for children: because it did use them to frugality and abstinence: and at one word, it is the healthful school of virtue. Thus have you some fragments of our Philosopher, of the which as of the rest of his works, we desire that all may learn to be virtuous.  
The end of Plutarch's life.   

THE LIFE OF Seneca.  
L. A. SENECA.  

A knowledge that doth many errors fly:  
A life resisting vices poisoned breath:  
A death, in death, that conquered death by death,  
OH Seneca, are fruits of thy Philosophy.   
SPAIN is divided by the Geographers into three principal parts, of the which, one of them abutting upon the straits of GIBRALTAR and the Mediterrane sea, called by Strabo TURDITANIA, was in old time the best inhabited. And albeit he doth confine it into two thousand furlongs in compass, yet he saith that in his time they made account of two hundred towns within that circuit, which at this day is called ANDALUZIA, having taken the name of the VANDALS, which have dwelled there since the ruin of the ROMAN Empire. In this part of SPAIN was (and yet is) situated upon the river called of the ancients Baetis, and at this day Guadalquibir, (that is to say, the great river, by reason of his long course) the city of CORDUBE, or CORDOVE: which was in old time one of the most famous cities of SPAIN, built by Marcellus, and inhabited with noble ROMANS', as Pliny and Strabo 
The family & 〈◊〉 of Seneca.  do witness. This place amongst others was a seed-plot or garden of good spirits, and men given to study. Among other honourable families of that time was that of the Annaeans, which besides their nobility loved learning, specially about the father of Seneca, whose life now we 
Senecaes' father.  writ. He was a simple gentleman bearing no charge in the commonwealth, for that he had no spirit in him to embrace such burdens, and gave himself most to learning, although otherwise he left not his sword, being a knight as many other PATRICIANS in the province where he was. With his arms he joined the profession of learning, but specially of eloquence, in the which he excelled the most in his time. He married a Lady called Elbia, of whom he had three 
His brethren.  sons, the eldest bearing the name of the father, to wit, Lucius Annaeus Seneca. The second, Annaeus Novatus, afterwards called julius Gallio. The third, Annaeus Mella, father of Lucan the Poet. The father was very careful to have his children well taught and brought up, but the eldest especially, who with time gave himself wholly unto Philosophy. For Gallio, besides his learning, he was raised up to some public dignities at ROME. Mella on the other side, he cared not for advancement, and therein he followed his father, as we will show hereafter more at large. Seneca, of whom we have presently to speak, was borne as it should seem a little before 
In what time Seneca was borne.  the death of Augustus Caesar. For himself writeth in the hundredth and ninth Epistle unto lucilius, that he was a young man when by the commandment of Tiberius the ceremonies of the strangers religions were driven out of ROME: the which Cornelius Tacitus in the second book of his Annals said to have happened in the fift year of Tiberius. But of this we will speak more hereafter, treating of the writings of Seneca. Furthermore, the occasion why himself and his brethren came out of SPAIN to ROME, was this. About the tenth year of the reign of Tiberius' Empire, matters began to be troublesome in diverse parts of the dominion of ROME, by reason of the cruelties and insolences of this Prince: who having about him Sejanus, and some other dangerous counsellors, he showed his disposition more than before. The sickness of the head floweth into all the principal members: so that the provinces were left without governors, or else were tyrannised by Praetors: whereupon followed great alterations. SPAIN amongst others, in many places lived as they listed: it was managed at that time by exactors, which caused people to rebel and enter into factions. It chanced amongst others, that L. Piso Praetor, was killed by a TERMESTAN, because he carried himself tyrannously amongst the people. This TERMESTAN being caught by the back, and cruelly tortured, he showed himself 
The great constancy of a Spaniard.  so stout notwithstanding, that they could not possibly make him confess any of his associates. But being quickly dispatched by the hands of the hangmen, who would have put him to a new torture, he knocked his head against a stone with such force, that he died presently in the field. Shortly after the cities began to be weary of their yoke, and CORDOVE specially among others, which being of the principalest and of great importance, an army was sent thither under the conduct of Cneus Domitius Aenobarbus, who having subdued CORDOVE, took amongst others Seneca, his two brethren, and Lucan his nephew, their father being dead some years before. Domitius knowing what men they were, he set them at liberty, and did so much that he persuaded them to leave SPAIN, and go to ROME, as well to continued and to advance their studies well begun, as to be known and honoured with public office. Now the state of SPAIN was such at that time, that Seneca and his were easily persuaded and won by him that had authority over them, and at the last they went into ITALY. Some think that Annaeus Mella remained still in SPAIN, being a man that loved to live privately, and that made no account of the honour and vanity of the world. For his son Lucan, he was brought very young after his two uncles, who did hear at ROME Pomponius Marullus, julius Hyginus, Cestius and Asinius 
His masters at Rome.  Gallus in Rhetoric: and in Philosophy, Socio Alexandrinus, and Photinus a STOIC, very famous. Under which they all profited, and Seneca specially, who joining to the gravity of the doctrine of the STOICS, a compendious and sententious speech, in short time made himself to be known.  
Now having remained a space shut up in schools, or hidden in the company of some learned men whom he hearkened unto, and familiarly frequented: he was put forward at the beginning of the Empire of Caligula, by Cneus Domitius (who had married Agrippina the daughter of Germanicus, & little daughter of Tiberius, of whom Nero was borne, nine months before the death of Tiberius) and began to show himself openly, pleading before the Senate with great grace: for from that time forth he was esteemed for one of the wisest and most eloquent men of ROME. By means whereof his credit increased from day to day. But as pricks be hidden under roses, and where men think to win honour, oftentimes they get repulse and contempt: the revolution of men's affairs flourishing, yet marvelous brittle and subject to fall: So Seneca proved that his eloquence profited others more than himself: and that as sometimes it is a wiser part to keep the sword in the scabbard, then in the hand: even so 
The hire of silence doth no danger threat.  The Emperor Caligula was a Prince that cared little for liberal sciences, yet he was very curious to speak well, having words at commandment, and esteemed eloquent among others: specially if sometime he disposed himself to speak against any man, the words and whole sentences did increase in his mouth, with such an accent and gesture, that they heard him and knew him a far off, and sometimes he threatened men with the force of his tongue. This quickness and vain eloquence of his, made him (besides that he had an ill shaped head) wonderful presumptuous. For there was never a learned man and eloquent in all the ROMAN Empire, but he would prefer himself before him. And those which directly or indirectly went about to cross him, they did put themselves in manifest danger: witness that which happened to the Orator Domitius Afer, and unto Seneca. Caligula bearing ill will a long time unto Domitius for some light spite he had unto him, Domitius was accused before the Senate: where Caligula made a long oration written, and therein laid open all his sufficiency, to show himself better able than Domitius, esteemed one of the best spoken men at that time. Now his purpose was to put Domitius to death, if he had studied to answer eloquently. But Domitius easily discovering this dangerous resolution, made no reply, nor excused himself, but said he was astonished at the oration of the Emperor: and feigning that the babbling of Caligula had ravished him, he made a brief repetition, as if he had come thither to harken. Than having magnified his discourses, and being commanded to defend himself: he began to lament, and to crave grace, and kneeling down besought Caligula, being more afraid of his word then of his hand. Caligula wonderful joyful of this honour, and thinking to be Eloquence itself, received Domitius into grace. Seneca taking no heed otherwise to that matter, and having at that time the free spirit of the STOICS: within few days after he fell almost into the like peril or greater danger than Domitius: he knew that Caligula did bear him ill will, and did also speak evil of him amongst his friends: and did compare him in his talk to gravel or sand without lime, as if he would have said, that there was neither good band or consequence in Senecaes' discourse. And to conclude, that he was but a jangler. But Seneca being carried away with the glory he had won, which pleased him well, continued notwithstanding to be in the Senate. Insomuch that one day having a cause to plead before Caligula, he behaved himself with such a grace and vehemency, that all that heard him esteemed him more than they did before, Caligula only excepted: who being vexed, and as it were pierced through with the eloquent words of Seneca, (he having in the mean time let fall no word to offend Caligula, but went on roundly with his matter) he was even at the point to put him to death, and then had executed his thought, had it not been for a woman he kept, who persuaded him not to do it, assuring him that Seneca had a disease that would soon dispatch him out of the world. But after that, Seneca forbore, knowing with whom he had to deal. And soon after Caligula being slain by Charea: and julius Sabinus his uncle (the son of Drusus and of Livia) called Claudius, was chosen Emperor: at the beginning Seneca came again into his former credit and fame, and continued it for some years: but at the last he was banished ROME for this cause. Claudius was a Prince of small judgement, and carried by certain minions and parasites of the court, and by his wife Messalina, one of the most shameless women that ever was. This woman wholly possessing Claudius, caused men and women of all qualities to be put to death, and banished as she thought good: and those above all others that went about to hinder the course of her strange ways. Among others she did bear julia the daughter of Germanicus ill will, (as Dion reporteth) because julia did not regard nor flatter her. Furthermore julia was a very fair Lady, which made Messalina jealous, who by little and little, found the means to accuse this Lady of many crimes, and specially of adultery: and made her be banished, then put to death immediately after. Seneca was carried away with this tempest, as culpable of the faults pretended against julia. Some think that julia is this Agrippina mother of Nero, whom Claudius married after the death of Messalina, and that she was banished from the court but for a time only. The which is very likely, as also Cornelius Tacitus seemeth to incline to that opinion. But for Seneca, it is not only in one place, but in many, that Dion and others do accuse him, that he had been somewhat bold with Agrippina, as if the credit he had in the house of the late deceased Cneus Domitius, had given him the boldness to defile the bed of his benefactor, dead a little before Tiberius. Furthermore, he was banished into the I'll of CORPSE, where he remained about two years: during which time he earnestly disposed himself to the study of Philosophy, with a singular contentment and quietness of mind, as may be gathered out of the goodly discourse he wrote, and sent unto his mother Helbia, who did hardly bear this banishment of his. But he did comfort her, and by lively reasons showed her that this entertainment was not grievous unto him, but that Philosophy had strengthened him after an excellent fashion, against all the assaults of fortune. Whilst he was in this profitable solitariness, Messalina continued in her wantonness with such an impudent and hot fury, that without the testimony of so many worthy historians, it were impossible to believe that the wife of an Emperor durst once have thought to have committed the thousandth part of the villainies unto the which she had given herself over to the sight and knowledge of all the world. In so much as in the end in the day time, within ROME, in presence of many persons of quality, & in the sight of all the people, Claudius being no further off then at HOSTIA: she married with great pomp an adulterer called silius, a gentleman of ROME, with all accustomed ceremonies and solemnities. See made a feast, and held silius for her husband. Tacitus in his Annals reporteth these things at large. Now though Claudius was so foolish before, and then too, that he perceived not that which all others saw so openly: in the end being wakened by Narcissus, one of his minions, he put silius to death, and some others culpable of this strange excess. And for Messalina, she had almost come again into grace: but in the end she was killed by the commandment of Narcissus. After Messalina was executed, the three minions of Claudius, to wit, Narcissus, Calistus, and Pallas, they laid their heads together to give their master a wife. But in the end Pallas, that pleaded for Agrippina the widow of Cneus Domitius, little daughter of Tiberius, daughter of Germanicus, and niece of Claudius: he carried it from them, the reasons he propounded had so much more force, being accompanied with dainty sugared words: who under the colour of a kinswoman, came often to visit her uncle, and she flattered him so bravely, that she being preferred before others, and not yet married, she did already use the authority and power of a wife. And out of hand, immediately after the marriage was solemnized with her uncle Claudius, she advanced Domitius Nero her son, and the son of Cneus Domitius. Furthermore by her practices, Octavia the daughter of Claudius, & of Messalina, betrothed unto silanus, was promised and afterwards given unto Nero for his wife. Who being yet very young when his mother married Claudius (and but eleven years old only) it was in question to get him a good master and tutor to teach him his book betimes, and to train him up in affairs of estate. Agrippina, a woman of a marvelous spirit, and that plotted great things, as the effect showed afterwards, as Tacitus hath wisely noted: she resolved to have Seneca called back again, and immediately obtained his grace of the Emperor. She did this to diverse ends, the one was to have a man of great authority and bringing up about her son, to the end to maintain Nero under the shadow of so great an appearance, until the time of his advancement were come. The other, to make the remembrance of Messalina the more odious, who had been the cause of the banishment of Seneca: to put back Britannicus, the son of her, and brother of Octavia, & by that means to have men at her commandment, little affected unto Claudius. So then Agrippina overruling Claudius at her pleasure, she did not only obtain the repeal, but also the Praetorship for Seneca, whom they sent for quickly, & he returned to ROME with great honour, to the contentment of high and low.  
Immediately after he was arrived, Claudius received him graciously, made him a Senator, and installed him in his charge. Afterwards being called into the palace of the Emperor, Domitius Nero is given him in charge, with great promises of Agrippina, who had two vices common to such persons. The one was, that she was set on fire with extreme covetousness to get money, under colour that she laid a foundation in store to help to maintain her estate. The other, that she gave largely unto those whom she knew meet▪ for the advancement of her son, whom she would raise up to be Emperor what soever it cost her, yea were it her own life: as appeared by her answer to a wise man whom she had asked what should become of the future greatness of her son Nero. For he having answered her, that he might be Emperor, but it should be to her undoing: Let me dye then, said she, so he may reign. Tacitus writeth that Agrippina thought the people would rejoice at the return of Seneca, because of the great fame of his knowledge: and also procured this good, to the end that the infancy of Domitius might grow until his adolescency under such a master, and she to use his counsel, to attain to the greatness of command which she hoped for: Seneca, in stead of continuing in his solitariness, and not remembering that 
Who entereth tyrant's houses, doth become  
A slave: though he a free man thither come.  He to the contrary, thinking he had found the means to show the effects of a Philosopher (the wit of man, yea of the wisest, is so snared in darkness upon darkness, when there is question of the troubles of this life) went and engaged himself in the service of Agrippina. And although for a time he bridled the youth of Nero, and did withstand certain disorders: yet in the end he was constrained to leave all, and suffer the fierce stream to run, having desired (but too late) solitariness: and with less goods and honours of the world, more liberty, and quietness of mind. Now, as he himself knew very well, and did excellently teach it unto others, that so as migrims and pains in the head are not healed by a crown or royal band, neither to the contrary is good health, nor the good state of a man lost, though he be not a great Lord: so this greatness in the which he saw himself highly lift up in a short time, did nothing else but increase his cares, wherewith he found himself bound, as with strong chains to the end of his life. And though he did shake them, and at times had proved to break them, yet he could not possibly unloose them: and in the end there was no way but he must perish under the weight 
Of massy chains, that of no iron were,  
But such as shamefastness, did make him bear.  It is true that at the first this charge and government seemed light unto him. For Nero was a young Prince of great hope, & in youth he showed himself gentle, tractable, obeying his schoolmasters instructions, who delighted to manure this plant, hoping all the world should have joy of him. But as the Emperors that were before, even in their young age, had made some show of that which might be expected of them in time to come: Seneca also perceived through the goodly appearance of his scholar, some part of his wild, naughty, and untoward nature, which he showed within few years after. Also Cneus Domitius his father, as some came to gratify him for that Agrippina his wife had brought him a son: he holding down his head, answered, that that they should not think that of him and of such a woman should be borne an infant, but to the ruin and confusion of the Empire. This prediction was not noted. But when Agrippina herself felt by the loss of her life, what a child she had brought into the world, and advanced by so many strange practices, and by the degrees of incest, of blood, and filthiness unto the Imperial dignity. Now whilst Seneca employed himself to polish this spirit of Nero, and sought to princ in his heart the love of virtue: Agrippina, careful of the worldly greatness of her son, she followed her purpose, cunningly helping herself (as much as she thought fit to serve her turn) with the counsel of Seneca, whom she acquainted not but with the lest part of the corruption of her intentions: for she being a cruel woman, and that never received those into favour whom she hated: she caused Lolia Paulina to be put to death, that had reasoned against her for the marriage of Claudius. She caused Calpurnia to be banished out of ITALY. And having through Pallas credit, who privately governed her, and also kept her, made her son Nero to be adopted, who was preferred before Germanicus the right successor unto the Empire: to the end she would have her power and authority to be known to the friends and allies of the Empire, she caused a number of soldiers of the old bands and people to be carried to the place where she was borne, a town of the VBIANS, at this day called CULLEN, upon the Rhein. So that this city was afterwards, and is at this present called COLONIA AGRIPPINA. Afterwards, 
Caractacus a king of England and his Queen submitted themselves to Claudius the Emperor of Rome.  for a new testimony of this authority, Caractacus king of ENGLAND, was led prisoner unto ROME, and presented with his wife and his brethren unto Claudius: who in presence of the people and of his guards pardoned them: this king and his train went the same time before Agrippina (who was set upon a scaffold joining unto that of her husbands:) they did her reverence, and thanked her with the same praises they gave the Emperor. Which was found very strange and new, against the custom and fashion of doing of the ancients: to see a woman set amongst the standards and ensigns of the ROMANS'. But she maintained that she was a companion of the Empire obtained by her predecessors. Now these were but slight approaches in comparison of this that followeth. For having caused her son to be declared to be of sufficient age, in testimony whereof he took the rob due unto those that were come to man's estate, and obtained that he might receive the Consulship at twenty years of age: she made him have the power of Proconsul out of the city, and the name of Prince of the youth. Besides all this, there was great largesse made unto the people in his name, and a sum of money given to every soldier. Also Nero himself passing on to go to the plays of Circe's, went appareled with an Imperial rob, and Britannicus as he was wont: who remembering so many outrages as they had done unto him, could not contain but must show some discontentment. But this served Agrippina her intention: for she prevailed so much with Claudius, that she procured him to banish or put to death all the governors of his son Britannicus. And worse yet: he committed him unto men suborned by Agrippina; who passing further yet, discharged Lucius Geta of his Captainship of the guard, and Ruffus Crispinus, servants of the house of Messalina, and placed in their rooms, Burrus Afranius, a man greatly esteemed for a warrior, but who knew well enough by whose favour he was advanced. Such was the boldness of this Agrippina, a great Lady in truth (for she was the daughter, sister, wife, and mother of an Emperor) but of a spirit compounded of all sorts of mischiefs. We have touched these things passing by, upon the occasion of Seneca: who being occupied about his pupil, was constrained to be partaker of many counsels, of the which he understood not the depth always. But so it is, that Agrippina served her turn much by his authority, to advance her business: the which Seneca perceived well, but he could not remedy it, for he thought of it too late. Now touching Nero: although the free admonitions of his master were bars to keep him in order, yet the corruptions of that time, and the working of his mother also, began by little and little to appear in him: so that by time he made it manifest, that the good instructions had beaten his cares a little, and troubled his brain somewhat: but that evil had taken too deep root in his heart. Furthermore, whilst Nero remained so as under the rod, openly there could be noted in Agrippina nothing but severity and gravity, no insolences in her house, otherwise than she thought might serve for the advancement of her affairs: for then, herself, as also all her train, gave themselves over to all dissolution. Now after she had advanced a part of her intentions, Nero being sixteen years old married Octavia the daughter of Claudius: and to show that he had learned under Seneca, he pleaded many causes of importance unto the Senate, with the praise of all men. Immediately after, a matter happened, that compelled Agrippina to look advisedly unto her affairs. Claudius' having drunk well at a feast, let these words escape him, that his destiny was first to endure all the mischiefs of his wives, and afterwards to punish them. She being afraid to be prevented, determined to make haste, after she had first destroyed Lepida her cousin germane, who wan the heart of Nero by her kindness and liberality. These troubles of Agrippina gave Narcissus the alarm, and made him join with Britannicus. But in these stirs Claudius was poisoned by a woman, an Eunuch of his, and his physician, practised of long time by Agrippina, who having disdained Britannicus and his sisters a long time, suddenly the gates of the palace were opened, and Nero accompanied with Burrus presented himself to the soldiers PRETORIANS, of whom being saluted Emperor, he was confirmed by decree of the Senate, and afterwards allowed by the Provinces. Than Nero made diverse orations penned by Seneca, who besides the contentment he had of the high dignity of his pupil, wrote a pleasant discourse upon the death of Claudius, and did intitule it, Apocolokynthosis, that is to say, immortality gotten by mushrommes: because the meat was sprinkled all over with mushrommes, whereof Claudius was poisoned. The which Nero afterwards called the meat of the gods, seeing that by that means his father in law was scraped out of the world, & made one of the gods after the fashion of the ROMANS'. Also Gallio Senecaes' brother gave Claudius a mock, saying that he was drawn up to heaven with a hook, slenting at the custom in practice at that time: to draw the bodies of malefactors put to death in prison, with an iron hook into the river. Such was the end of Claudius, rewarded for his incest, and for the injury he did unto his son Britannicus, to advance a son in law, for to please an ambitious woman, to wit, Agrippina. Nero being thus raised up, his mother set upon julius silanus Proconsul in ASIA, who was poisoned because she feared him, for that being the last son of Augustus, the people did greatly honour him, and said he should be preferred before Nero. On the other side Narcissus was hastily compelled to die, although Nero was very angry withal. To be short, the knives were drawn, and this woman had shed much blood, if Burrus and Seneca had not beaten down the blows. They being Nero's governors, and agreeing well together in this equal and common greatness, they had both alike power and authority, but by diverse means. Burrus, he disposed of all matters military, and was a grave man, but had sour manners. Seneca with a pleasant and comely fashion taught this young Prince eloquence. They did carefully help one another, and often conferred together what means they should use to make Nero love virtue, whereof he seemed to have great beginnings. To hold him in more easily, they let him have his own will in exercises and honest pleasures, and left him to his disposition to do as he thought good. This young man from his infancy used his wit, which was quick to diverse things, peradventure better for a man of some other quality, to wit: to grave, to paint, to sing, to play on the cithern, to ride horses, and to make verses. That a Prince have all these parts in him, and be furnished with others: is not a thing in itself to be blamed, so that the principal do always go before, and that nothing be forgotten requisite for discharge of his government received of God. Otherwise, as he was justly reproved, that of a wise Physician was become an evil Poet: and sometime a great Lord was blamed for that he was too good a physician. Also it was said to a king, that would contest against a player on the flute: that it was not his craft. So they may answer him that would describe the praises of a Prince: He was a good player at tennis, a cunning workman, a brave fencer, a fine dancer, a great talker: My fair friend, thou dost as if one being about to speak of a man and his contentment, came to tell us that he handleth his feet and his hands finely, and that he hath fine shoes on, and weareth his hat gallantly: and thou forgest bodies without a soul, and men without vocation, and vocations ridiculous. Agesilaus hearing one call the king of PERSIA, a great king: Why, said he, is he greater than myself, unless it be that he is juster than I am? Nothing surely maketh Kings and Princes truly great but justice. Other things how exact soever they are found, they shall oftentimes meet with more excellent in a poor crafts man's hand, hidden amongst the refuse of the people. The Prince therefore is not desirous of true honour, nor a man that deserveth praise, that is careful to clothe his body sumptuously, and that glorieth to be a painter, a graver, a cunning workman, a singer, a player at tennis, a hunter, a dancer, and that his house be richly furnished with household stuff, and himself daintily served: and all this while he giveth no order for his speech, his company, and conversation, that therein he be graver and wiser than a base and common person, making no account to have the palace of his soul royally appareled and set forth, as appertaineth to a royal magnificence. But how can a Prince be great, what power or authority soever he have, if he be given to vile things, unworthy of his true greatness: and worse than that, if he join vice unto these ridiculous things in him? Away with this trash, and take virtue from a great man in the world, you shall see him little in all other things. Little in his gifts and presents: because he will not, or knoweth not how to dispose them. Little in pains, because of his delicateness: little towards God, because of his superstition: little unto the good, because of his envy: little unto men, because of his cowardliness: little among women, because he is subject unto voluptuousness. For like as evil workmen, which set up little statues upon great and large bases, do by measure show the smallness of their statues: even so when fortune lifteth up to high estate a man of a weak and little heart, where he is to be seen of all the world, and in the place of the rob and staff of justice, he is seen appareled like a craft's man, or an interlude player: she doth discover, descry, and dishonour him, making it to appear how he reeleth and stumbleth for his lightness. Let this be spoken to the purpose of Nero's pastimes: who shortly after left all such comedies, to play terrible tragedies. And for his small pleasures, although at the first Burrus and Seneca were wary that this young Prince lived modestly enough: yet we must confess that sometime they gave him liberty to entertain women: which the estate of his court and of ROME did offer him at pleasure. But that which most troubled them, was the boldness of Agrippina: who being set on fire with all the passions that may be found in a wicked government: had near about her palace an arrogant man, and that having forgotten with what condition he came to mount so high, braved all the world, and Nero himself: who, notwithstanding his youth, did very unpatiently bear the insolency of this minion. And yet he bore it, because he would not anger his mother, to whom he spared no reverence, honour, and kindness amongst his Lords: also he called her his good mother, even to give this name otherwhile for a watchword unto the Captain. In these beginnings Nero made many goodly and well penned orations, after the manner of Seneca, who had a gentle spirit, and meet for the ears of this time. These exercises fashioned Nero, kept under his wild nature, and framed it to the affairs of estate: in such sort, that the first five years of his Empire, he was so finely handled by Seneca, seconded with Burrus, that the affairs of peace and war prospered, every man having great hope of Nero, who showed himself lowly, and given to virtue. Seneca reporteth wonders in his books he did dedicated unto him, where he treateth of clemency, singularly of this gentleness of his. For at the beginning of the second book he saith, that Burrus desirous to hung two thieves, sued to the Emperor ot set too his hand, against whom, and for what causes this execution should be done. This being put off diverse times, Burrus solicited the dispatch, and being angry, presented the paper unto Nero: who with a discontented countenance, and doing it as against his will, he cried out: By my will, I would I could neither writ nor read. See to what end the instructions of Seneca served: where I will tell you another story, although it chanced a long time after the first, to show the credit of the master towards his scholar. Nero having made a pavilion with eight panes wonderful sumptuous, Seneca told him: Thou hast showed thyself in this pavilion that thou art poor: for if thou lose it, thou shalt never have the like again. As it came to pass: for the ship wherein this pavilion was, was cast away. And Nero remembering Senecaes' words, did bear the loss of it more patiently. Furthermore, Seneca accompanied Nero in the assemblies of counsel, and oftentimes told him in the field what he should do, according to the occurrences: and in diverse orations he procured that Nero made protestation of his gentleness before the Senate. The which turned to the praise of Seneca, in such sort notwithstanding that the people perceived it, and rejoiced at it. So they report that the Emperor Traian was wont to say, that all the other Princes were far from the first five years of the Empire of Nero: as Tacitus and others do testify. In the mean time Nero showed himself very liberal unto Seneca, and did esteem him as much, or more, than any man in ROME at that time: for he made him a present of great sums of money, unto three thousand Sestertium, which some think do amount unto seven millions and 50000 crowns, of the which part of it yielded him great profit at usury: the other part was bestowed upon sumptuous gardens, houses of pleasure, lands & possessions far off and near ROME: and furthermore, a palace in the city, full of all sorts of precious movables. For all this Seneca waxed nothing the prouder, but fearing fortune, and remembering his old state and condition, sought to keep himself upright in the midst of the great combats which were like to come, having upon his arms the unconstant youth of Nero, the which in sight began to run to his destruction: on the other side, the ambition of Agrippina to fight withal and beat down: this woman being of such a spirit, that she could tarry in no place, but set herself and others on work. But this credit of Burrus and of Seneca, and their great riches also, especially of Seneca, made them to be envied of many, that did blame and accuse them openly. Whereunto Seneca opposed the gravity of his manners, and sought by diverse writings to strengthen himself more and more: as some of his works, specially the discourse of a happy life, seemeth to be done by him during these alarms.  
Now the beginning of these griefs of Seneca, came partly for that he perceived Nero's mind so corrupted, that he began to be very dissolute: and partly also for that he discovered that Agrippina and her minions would set upon him and Burrus also, which with time would bring them into many dangers. And though for his own part he was resolute against all accidents: nevertheless the charge and care he had of the affairs of the Empire, and the love which he bore unto Nero his scholar, troubled him exceedingly. Nevertheless as hope entertaineth us in all dangers, attending better: he determined to keep himself upright as long as he could possible, and to expect some other issue in the affairs. Nero was enamoured with a bond woman called Acté, which his familiars did endure, alleging they must suffer one evil, for fear a worse should happen: and that so long as he should satisfy himself with her, he should not run after the Ladies of ROME. But Agrippina that could not bear with this insolency, began to take up her son roundly, thinking she could by her magistralitie remedy this well enough. To the contrary, this was to kindle the fire, and to embrace it altogether in this girl. Nero being waxen great, and counseled by Otho and Claudius Senecio, who made the messages of Love: he snuffed at these reprehensions, and began to despise his mother: who on the sudden came to change her subtleties. And she had not been so sharp before in rebuking, but she was now as gentle in yielding, and offered her closet to her son for the accomplishing of his desires. This sudden change, made Nero and his minions think much of it, in so much as they prayed him to beware of the deceits of this woman, that practised in her heart some villainy. Nero countermining her, presented his mother with many rich jewels and apparel of great price. But she being suspicious as could be possible, gave them injurious words that brought them. Wherewith Nero being offended, and knowing that Pallas was the chief counsellor of Agrippina, took his offices from him which were committed to him by the Emperor Claudius. Agrippina began then to diminish in reputation, and to fly off the hooks: and coming to Nero himself, threatened him to take his Empire from him, and to establish Britannicus, the lawful successor of Claudius: and hereupon detested in express terms the wickedness she had committed to bring up a son that was so unthankful unto her: adding moreover that she would go found out the armies with Britannicus: so long as they should see on the other side, this baggage fellow Burrus, and this banished pedantical companion Seneca (so did she qualify him) barking after he government of the world. These threatenings were accompanied with such strange countenances and imprecations, that they troubled Nero, besides that Britannicus came now to be fourteen years old: and that one day playing, he could say aloud before Nero himself, that they had taken his Empire from him. Shortly after Britannicus was poisoned, and died suddenly, to the great astonishment of Agrippina and of Octavia also. Afterwards, Nero desisted to converse so privately with his mother as he did at other times: and began to give ear unto them that would set them further at odds: so that a certain fool called Paris, having told Nero one night that Agrippina conspired against him: he was resolved to make his mother be put to death, and to take from Burrus the charge of Captain of the guards. But Seneca kept him from that, and after some reasons passed between them, Burrus being sent for, to put Nero by his choler, he besought him to let him have the charge of this business, assuring him that he would put Agrippina to death, if she were convinced of any villainy. Notwithstanding that every body should be heard speak in their defence, and above all, a mother: adding also that the accusers were not present, and that there was but one accuser suspected. And that he could not justify, that such an important deliberation should be made by night, and at the table: and that all that would show his rashness and folly more than any other thing. Nero being somewhat pacified, they tarried till day, that they might go to the mother, to know how these accusations fell out. Burrus was there by express commission with Seneca, and some others, to mark what should be said. But Agrippina could so well justify herself, that her accusers were punished: for one of them was put to death, and the rest banished. From that time forward Nero began to run riot as is described by Suetonius, Tacitus, and Dion. But the beginning of new and horrible miseries, (the other that went before being but light in respect of them) was the falling in love with Sabina Popea, the wife of Otho, who had taken her away from her first husband Ruffus Crispinus, a knight of ROME. Nero did the like unto this Otho, and took from him this minx that knew the tricks of the occupation. She having gained Nero in a little space, prevailed so much with him, that he determined to put his mother Agrippina to death. Who hearing of the ill will her son did bear her, sought by all means to get into his favour again: even to present herself so shamefully unto him, that I shame to be the reporter of that which the historians speak of her. This notwithstanding he persevered in his determination, and commanded Anicetus General of the galleys of MISENE, to see her drowned: the which was executed in some sort, yet Agrippina for that time escaped being hurt, and got to a house of pleasure of hers. Nero hearing these news, more dead than alive, thinking he was undone: sent presently for Burrus and Seneca, to have their advice: and we cannot tell (saith Tacitus) whether they were of counsel and privy to this fact, or not. Both of them therefore were a great while and spoke not a word: being afraid they should lose time, if they should go about to dissuade Nero from that which he was purposed to redouble upon her: and they knew well that the day was come, that Nero must needs dye, if Agrippina were not prevented. Seneca, who until this present time was ever ready to speak, looked upon Burrus, as to know of him if he thought good to command the men of war to do this murder. Burrus answered, that the PRAETORIAN soldiers were so affectioned to the house of the Caesars, and did so much reverence the memory of Germanicus, that they would never enterprise any thing against the life of his children: and that Anicetus was to perform his promise. Who without any further thought, demanded and accepted the commission, which was forthwith executed, and Agrippina put to death in her house, where she thrusting out her body to the Centener, who took his sword in his hand to kill her, she cried out: Ventrem fert, desiring that the womb which had borne such a fruit as Nero, should be first stricken, and run through. Nero defiled with this execrable murder, added thereto other infinite abominations, specially the putting away and doing his wife Octavia to death, a virtuous Princess, and that deserved better. Now this is enough that we have touched these things by they way, because they specially concern the life of Nero, who paid his master with an evil reward, entangling him in such wicked counsels. On the other side also it cannot be denied, that Burrus and Seneca yielded too much to the cruel will of this Parricide. And as for the extremity they feared, there were means enough to have helped it: and we must never do evil, that good may come of it. And what good could come of such an execrable abomination? For though Agrippina deserved such a cruel punishment, for so many wicked deeds as she had done: yet should not her son have had his hand in it, and his counsellors should not have consented unto it, nor Anicetus have executed it. As all were much to be blamed for this deed, yet some more than other, so they had all their turn, as Tacitus and Suetonius do show particularly.  
Burrus dislodged the first, and as lest to be blamed for so many disorders, he was spared, in that he saw not the other incredible confusions that fell out afterwards. His throat swelling within, by little and little, he died, his pipes being stopped that he could fetch no wind. Many affirmed, saith Tacitus, that by the commandment of Nero, making as though they would help him, the palate of his mouth was rubbed with poison, and that Burrus perceived that wickedness, & when Nero came to see him, he would not vouchsafe to look on him, but turned on the other side. And Nero ask him how he did, he answered only, I am well. This man was wonderfully lamented of the ROMANS', because of his virtue, and of the foolishness of one of his successors, and of the notable villainies of the other called Tigellinus, who was the utter ruin of Nero. The death of Burrus much impaired the power and authority of Seneca: for that the means to do good were weak, as having lost the half part of their life: and because that Nero inclined unto those which held him up in his wickedness, against the which Seneca opposed himself as time and occasion would suffer him. But his enemies having the Prince's ear, they failed not to set upon this honourable person, because of his age and the services he had done to Nero. They did falsely accuse him, saith Tacitus, for that he having great riches, and more than was fit for a private man, he did still increase them, and grew greater: and beside did gain and draw the good will of the peoole too much unto him. That he had goodlier gardens and more sumptuous houses of pleasure, than the Emperor himself. Furthermore, that he imputed all the honour to himself for knowing how to speak excellently well: and that he made verses oftener than he was wont, after that he perceived Nero took pleasure to make them himself. That flatly condemning Nero his exercises, he mocked him, seeing him ride and manage horses, and laughed at him hearing him sing. And all this was but to make men believe, that nothing was well done in the affairs of the estate, that proceeded not from his invention. Now that Nero was come out of his infancy, and in the flower of his youth, that he should leave his master, considering that his ancestors should serve him well enough for great and good tutors: Seneca understanding by the report of those that yet somewhat regarded virtue and honour, how these lewd incensers did accuse him: perceiving also that Nero withdrew himself more and more from his familiarity, which he had showed in times past: he besought him to hear him, the which having obtained, he said thus unto him: My Lord, it is now fourteen 
Senecaes' Oration unto Nero.  years since I was first called to accompany the great hope that was had of your infancy, & eight years since you have been Emperor: during which time you have heaped so much goods and honour upon me, that nothing wanteth to my felicity, but to know how to use them well. To this purpose I will lay before you notable examples practised by men of your quality, not of mine. Augustus' great father of your grandfathers father, licenced M. Agrippa to withdraw himself unto MYTILENE, to lead a private life: and to C. Maecenas to live at his ease within ROME itself, as in some pleasant remote place farther off. The one of them had accompanied him in his wars, and the other having been beaten and tormented with great tempests in ROME, had bone both, to speak the truth, amply recompensed, as also the great service they had done well deserved it. As for myself, I brought nothing that deserved you should be so noble and liberal unto me, but only my studies nourished (if I may be so bold to speak it) in the shadow, and covertly, from whence notwithstanding all my reputation is proceeded, for as much as it seemeth I have been in your apprenticeships: which truly is to me a great reward and rich recompense. But besides all this, you have infinitely favoured me, and presented me with innumerable goods. In so much that I often reason thus with myself: Is it possible, that I that am but of a simple house of Knights (also dwelling without ROME) should hold the place of one of the chiefest Lords of ROME? and amongst the most noble, and those that are noted to be of so great antiquity, that a new come man as myself, hath dared to show himself in place? Where is that spirit that contented itself with mediocrity? what meaneth he to have so fine and goodly gardens? What? he walketh by such and such houses of pleasure, near unto the city. His lands and possessions are of so great an extent, and his money bringeth him in such a commodity many ways, that he is full to the throat. For the which there is nothing to be offered, but a defence for myself: that I could not refuse your presents. Now we have, both the one and the other, performed our duty: you, in giving so much as a Prince could give to him that he loveth: and I, in receiving that which a man in great favour might have and take of his Prince. As for my honours and estates, Envy looketh awry upon me: howbeit (as all other things of the world) she is under the feet of your greatness. Yet in the mean time she lighteth upon me, and therefore I have need of help. And as in war, or otherwise in traveling abroad, if I were weary I would require rest: so finding myself in the travel of this life now old and very unmeet for the lest office, since I can no longer support the burden of my riches, I do desire to be discharged. Command therefore that your receivers henceforth do take them and put them into your treasure. I shall not therefore become poor, but when I shall be rid of those things which blindfold me with their brightness, I shall bestow my time in study, which I was wont to employ in my gardens and possessions. You are young and lusty, and time hath established you in the greatness of your estate: but we that are your ancient servants have leave as it were to repose ourselves. It shall be also a great honour for you to have raised those to 
Nero's answer to Senecaes' oration.  great offices, to whom mean things had sufficed. Unto this Nero made answer, in manner as followeth: For that on the sudden I do answer your premeditate Oration, it is because I have learned it of you, that have taught me how I should deal, not only in things seen far off, but also in those which are presented upon the sudden unto me. Augustus' my grandfather suffered Agrippa and Maecenas to repose themselves after their travels: but it was in such an age, that his authority might maintain that, and any thing else by him granted: and yet he did not take from the one nor the other any goods that he had given unto them. They got it in the wars, and with danger of their lives: for Augustus spent his youth in wars. I do assure myself that your arms nor hands would have failed me, if I had go to the wars: but as the estate of my affairs did bear, you have by reason, by counsel, and by instructions raised up my infancy and youth. So will I remember all the days of my life the good service I have received at your hands. That which you hold of me, your gardens, money in bank, houses in the country abroad: all that is subject unto diverse accidents. And though all together seem much, yet is it so, that many far short of your deserts have possessed more. I am ashamed to name bondmen made free, whom men see richer than you: and the cause that maketh me ashamed is, that you whom I should cherish above all others, do not pass them in riches and human greatness. Furthermore, you are yet in good age, to govern your lands and revenues, and we do but now enter into managing the affairs of the Empire: but it may be that you esteem yourself less than Vitellius, three times Consul: and commend Claudius above me, as if I could not by my liberality give you as much goods as Volusius by long sparing hath gotten. Moreover, if our slippery and unconstant youth sway on one side more than it aught, you reform it, guiding by your aid and vigilancy that small direction we have. If you bring your money into my coffers, If you forsake the Prince, they will not say it is because you are content with little, and seek your ease: but their talk shall be none other, but of my covetousness, and my cruelty. And although they should much praise your moderation in this action, yet it becometh not an old man to seek honour by doing any thing that should dishonour his friend. Nero added to this fine speech, many embracements and kisses, being made by nature, and brought by custom to cover his malice with false and sergeant kindness. Seneca (as it is the conclusion of a speech holden with him that commandeth) thanked him: yet he immediately changed his accustomed manner he was wont to use during his former greatness: gave them leave to departed that came every morning in troops to salute him: turned away from others that offered to follow and accompany him: very seldom times he went into the city, and stirred not out of his house, as if he had been sick, or troubled after his study of Philosophy. This was the talk betwixt Nero and Seneca, who having leisure to bethink himself better of the answer of Nero, knew very well that his fortune was changed, and that the disciple was become the master: yea and that so much more dangerous, for that his cruel courage was wrapped up in so gracious words and countenances, the which a man was constrained to trust, or at the lest to make show of it.  
Nero being as it were overcome by Seneca, was as cruel and more than before, counseled by Tigellinus and Popea. First of all than he began to cut off the heads of Plautus and Sylla, honourable men banished before into ASIA & to MARSEILLES. He refused, confined, and finally put to death his wife, the Princess Octavia, using an infamous and strange manner in his proceed against her. He married the adulteress Popea, who brought him a daughter that died soon after. He counterfeited the player, always intermixing some new cruelty with his pastimes. Afterwards he being present at a banquet made by Tigellinus, in the which were committed all sorts of villainies, and he himself being defiled with natural and unnatural whoredoms and abominations, within few days after (a matter incredible, if so many grave historians, amongst others Tacitus did not assure us of it) he married one Pythagoras as his husband, which was of the company of these villains, and was solemnly married according to the custom of other marriages. The yellow veil of the married couple covered Nero's head. Soothsayerss were sent for, the jointer was assigned, the bed of the spouse prepared, the wedding torches were lighted: and to be short, they saw that openly which the night hideth, when the question of marriage is in hand with a woman. Thirdly, he set fire on a great number of houses in ROME, so as the most part were burnt. And to clear himself of this wickedness, he falsely laid it upon the Christians, (being a great number at that time in ROME) that they were the authors of this disorder: in somuch that they were set upon with a strange cruelty. And yet as they put them to death, they did a thousand mockeries unto them, putting beasts skins upon them to be torn in pieces with dogs, or else they were hanged upon the cross, or burnt with a little fire: their woodhouses, or stacks of wood served to give light in the night. Now though the people of ROME were bloodily bend against these innocents, yet there were many that had pity of them, seeing honest men tormented, to satisfy the cruel insolency of Nero: who appareled like a coachman, and driving the horse himself in the midst of these confusions, made the people pastime. Besides all this, he foraged and ransacked all ITALY with impositions and excessive lones, ruining the towns, and not sparing also the temples of ROME, of ASIA, nor of GRECE. It was given out abroad, saith Tacitus, that Seneca (whom Nero went oftentimes to visit, to keep him in breath, and gently to lull him asleep) to avoid the suspicion that he had been of counsel with this sacrilege: had asked leave to go to some house of his far into the country. Which being denied him, he kept his chamber, feigning to be sick of the gout. Some have written that a bondman of his enfranchised called Cleonicus, did prepare to poison him by the commandment of Nero: the which he avoided upon warning given him by him, or for that he feared such a thing, living meanly, eating such fruits as were brought him out of the country, and being contented to drink clear running water if he were athirst. Such detestable wickedness of Nero having of long time offended many honourable persons, which could no longer endure such a master: they resolved to set themselves at liberty, and conspired to kill him one day when they saw opportunity. The day being come, one called Millicus, an enfranchised bondman of one of the principal conspirators, went to discover to Nero what they had complotted against him. This gave a strange alarm to the Emperor, who caused them to lay hands of one and other, amongst which number there was Lucan the nephew of Seneca, that was a party in this conspiracy, for anger against Nero: who was the cause that his verses were not had in that estimation they deserved, and commanded him not to publish them, thinking (but in vain) that he could make as good. From that time forth they could see nothing in ROME but imprisoning of men of quality, and preparation for execution which followed.  
Seneca, that stirred not out of the country, was not forgotten of Popea, nor of Tigellinus, which were the secret counsellors of Nero in his cruelties. And Nero also failed not to take hold of this occasion to make away his schoolmaster, whose shadow did torment him. It was not for that Seneca was partaker of the counsel with the conspirators, but Nero was glad to found the mean to dispatch him with a sword, since he could not do it by poison. For one of the conspirators called Natalis (whom Nero had pardoned) said nothing else of him, but that he was sent to visit Seneca being sick, and to complain because he thought not good that Piso (being the head of this enterprise, and should be created Emperor after the murder of Nero) should come to see him, and that he would confirm their friendship, frequenting familiarly together: but that Seneca had answered, that their talk and meeting would neither be profitable for the one, nor for the other: and moreover, that his life depended upon that of Piso. Gravius Silvanus Captain of a band of guards, was commanded to go to Seneca, to know if he would take any knowledge to have spoken the words confessed by Natalis, and the answer that he made at that time. By chance, or wittingly, Seneca was come home that very day, and remained in a house of his two small miles from ROME. The Captain came thither about night, and placed his soldiers round about the house: and afterwards came in, and found Seneca at supper with his wife 
Pompeia Paulina the wise of Seneca.  Pompeia Paulina, and two of his friends. So having delivered his message unto him, Seneca answered strait being nothing moved, that Natalis was indeed sent unto him to complain in the name of Piso, for that Seneca would not suffer him to come and see him: and that for himself, he did excuse himself as well by reason of his sickness, as for the desire he had to take his ease. And for those words: that his life depended upon that of Piso, he said he had no occasion to prefer the preservation of another private man's life, before his own. And that furthermore, he gave not his mind to flatteries, whereof he would have no better testimony than Nero himself, who had oftener known that Seneca was a free man, than a slave or a bondman. Silvanus' returned unto Nero, and made report in the presence of Popea and Tigellinus, who were very desirous to hear his answer: which being heard, Nero asked him, if Seneca made any show to be willing to dye. The Captain assured him that he perceived no sign of fear nor of sorrow, in the words, nor countenance of Seneca. Thereupon Nero commanded this Captain to return to Seneca again, and to command him to dye. Some think that this executioner returned not again that way he was come, but went another way, to found out Fenius Captain of the guards, whom after he had acquainted with Nero's commandment, he asked him if he would execute this commission. Fenius, that was of the number of the conspirators, nevertheless advised him to obey the emperors commandment, by a fatal cowardliness of as many as were of them. For Silvanus that had this commission to go to Seneca, was also one of the conspiracy, and yet his hand was ready to increase the wickedness of Nero, of the which before he was desirous and procured to see the punishment. To hide his offence in some sort, he would not, or durst not return into the presence of Seneca, nor speak to him: but made one of his Centeners' go into the house to declare the emperors commandment, which was, that Seneca must dye. At that time it was half a favour unto those that were condemned to lose their lives, to suffer them to be put to death, either by themselves, or by any of their acquaintance: which was done in diverse sorts. Some pricked their veins and let themselves blood, and then went into a hothouse where they ended. Others swallowed down poison: others stabbed themselves in with their daggers, or their swords. It is judged this was done, that they should not fall into the hands of the hangmen: for when it happened so, the bodies of the condemned were not buried, and their goods were forfeited: whereas if they put themselves to death (of the which the most part following the doctrine of the STOICS were nothing afraid) their bodies should be buried, and their wills and testaments good. Sometimes this choice did cut off the griefs of a more ignominious and cruel punishment.  
Now to return to Seneca. Having heard the message of the Centener, without changing countenance, and wholly resolved: he called for his book of tables, in the which was written his will: which being denied him by the Centener, turning to his friends, he protested, that since he was let to acknowledge their merits, that he would leave one only thing (and notwithstanding the best) yet his, to wit, the image of the example of his life, the which if they remembered, they would carry a commendable reputation of honest & virtuous men, for a worthy reward of so constant a friendship. And seeing them weep, he sought to appease them, or to stay their tears, now with sweet words, by and by with vehemency, as if he would have reproved them. To conclude, he did encourage them to remain firm and constant, ask them where was the resolution they had learned so many years in the schools and studies of Philosophy, against all the chances of the world. He added further, that every one knew well what Nero was, what cruelties he had committed: and after that he had so wickedly behaved himself to his father in law, to his mother, to his brother, and to his wife: there was nothing left behind for the accomplishment of his cruelties, but to add too the murder of his schoolmaster. After he had discoursed such or the like words before them all, and as in general, he embraced his wife, and having a little emboldened her against this blow, he instantly prayed her to moderate her grief, and exhorted her also to remember how virtuously he had passed his life, and gently to bear (and with a heart worthy herself) the sorrow of the death of her husband. She for her part assured him that she was resolved to die, and bad one of them give her the blow. Than Seneca, not to deprive himself of that honour, and being touched with the love he did bear her, was contented not to leave to the mercy of the dissolution that then reigned, her whom he had most dearly loved. I did set before you (said he) the sweetness of life: but since yourself hath chosen rather an honourable death, for my part, I shall not be sorry if you show me the way. Let the constancy therefore of so courageous a death as ours, be alike to us both: although the endof your life shall be more famous. Immediately thereupon, they caused the veins of their arms to be opened: but because that Seneca had an old body, and thin by eating little, there would no blood come out but drop by drop: he made the veins of his legs and hams to be cut. Than weary of such a cruel butchery, being afraid that his pains would make his wives heart sail her, or that he himself should grow impatient for so many torments as he endured: he persuaded her to withdraw herself into another chamber: and for himself, having to his last gasp his words at commandment, he caused his Secretaries that were wont to writ under him, to come unto him, and told them there many notable things in fine terms, the which were published after his death: but time hath taken them from us for want of storie-writers: although some think that that might be kept as well as other writings of Seneca. Others carrying some envy to the virtue of this man, have kept it back, being loath that the posterity should enjoy a table, where the visage of Seneca might be better known, then in other places of his works. Nero, that had men coming and going every minute of an hour from Senecaes' house to ROME, understanding how every thing passed, and bearing no particular hatred to Paulina, fearing also he should increase the blame of his cruelty: he commanded they should keep Paulina from dying. Wherhfore his slaves and freed bondmen, warned by the soldiers themselves, bound up her arms, and staunched the blood, not knowing whether she felt any thing or not. For as there are always among the people that take things at the worst, there wanted not men which thought that so long as Paulina stood in fear of Nero's anger, she desired to have the report that she was a companion of the death of her husband. But afterwards when there was a better hope offered her, she was contented to be won with the flatteries of life, unto the which she added some few years with commendable memory, and sorrow for her husband: being otherwise so pale of countenance, that she showed to have lost a great deal of blood and her strength. On the other side Seneca seeing his death prolonged, he prayed Statius Annaeus (whom he esteemed much for his faithful friendship he had borne him a long time, and for his skill in Physic) to bring him of the like poison to that which they keep by public ordinance in ATHENS to put offenders to death, whereof he had of long time made provision. So when it was brought him, he swallowed it down without regard, his members bieng cold, and his body constant against the force of the poison. In the end, he entered into a bathing tub of hot water, with the which sprinkling his slaves that were about him, he added to it, that he offered this liquor unto jupiter the deliverer. After that being carried into a stove, and having through the heat thereof yielded up the ghost, his body was burned without any solemnity of obsequies. He had so appointed it by his will made at that time when he was very rich, and of great credit. It was reported that Subrius Flavius, one of the chiefest conspirators, had secretly determined with the Centeners' (yet not without the privity of Seneca) that after they had killed Nero by the means of Piso, they should also dispatch Piso himself, to the end to make Seneca Emperor, as an honest man, only elect and chosen to that greatness for the fame of his virtues. Such was the end of Seneca, that had lived in honourable and public charges, of Praetor, Quaestor and Consul under two Emperors, and was long in credit with the last: who seeing himself covertly despised of his master, that could no longer endure such wickedness: sought the occasion before mentioned, but with extreme injustice, to rid him out of the way. Furthermore, Dion thinketh that Senecaes' two brethren were likewise put to death. But because he is contented to touch it but in a line, and that that which Tacitus saith is to be marked, set down in particular, and with most likely circumstances: we will speak one word more. Shortly after the death of Seneca, he commanded they should put Annaeus Lucanus to death, the son of Mela: who feeling his feet and his hands cold whilst the blood ran down, and that by little and little his spirit parted from the extremities of his body, his heart being yet lively and his understanding good, calling certain verses of Poetry to mind, in the which here presented a soldier hurt: dying of the same death, he recited the same verses, which were the last words he spoke. Altitia, Lucan's mother was left alive, neither being pardoned nor punished. For junius Callio, who was a Senator, he was so astonished at the death of his brother, that before all the Senate he fell down at Nero's feet, beseeching him to give him his life. Whereupon another Senator called Alienus Clemens, set upon him with injurious words, calling him traitor and parricide. But the other Senators with one consent made Clement hold his peace, telling him that he should not seek common adversities for to revenge his private quarrel, or to draw on the Prince to a new cruelty, who had now by his clemency quieted and forgotten all. Within a few months after Annaeus Mela was dispatched: he was a knight of ROME, but of the dignity of a Senator. And although Seneca and Gallio his brethren were advanced to greater honour, yet he would never purchase it by extremity of ambition: but being come out of SPAIN to ROME, more for the love of his brethren and of his son then for himself, he was contented to have this honour, that a knight was ever equal in power and credit with a Consul. The name of his son Lucanus greatly esteemed of every body, and specially of learned men: had gotten him great reputation. Immediately after his son's death, he seeking somewhat too eagerly after his son's goods, he raised against him an accuser called Fabius Romanus, one of Lucanus chiefest friends. This man showed sergeant letters as done by Lucanus, which charged Mela that he was partaker with his son of the complot against Nero. 
death of Annaeus Mela.  Though this accusation was utterly false and feigned, yet Nero that thirsted after the riches of Mela, commanded those letters should be carried to Mela: that was as much to say, he must die. The which Mela knowing well enough, made his veins to be opened, and followed the way of others. Seneca in his writings yieldeth great testimony of the constancy and virtue of his brethren: and I think he was a man that was not given to speak lightly. Notwithstanding, I have simply recited that which Tacitus saith, who sufficiently showeth in the example of divers others, that it is not to be marveled at if the cruelties of Nero, who lest spared the great then the small: made the boldest hearts of them all quake sometimes.  
Now there remaineth to tell you something of the Philosophy and writings of Seneca: for it is in those tables that we must look to see him lively, and speaking with that self vehemency of spirit that followed him even to the last gasp of his life. It is true that the insolences of Nero had oftentimes as it were stopped his mouth, and hindered that good soul to give free passage to his discourses, yea and in some places they made him stumble. Yet he called himself back again to his first thoughts, and remained constant in the midst of the cruel raging storms of his time. Now as it is easy for men that be on the land, where they do idly behold some master Pilot striving with the force and fury of the wind and billows, to say: That man there should guide his ship after another fashion: who if they were in his place, should without all comparison found themselves more troubled, or at the lest would make a sorrowful wrack. Even so it happeneth, that Senecaes' Philosophy is despised of many, that think he could speak Philosophy but by his book, and that when he should come to show it indeed, men would say he doth like the masters of fence, who being in a school of fence with young youths, they do wonders, and give mortal venies at pleasure: but if they come to any private fight at the sharp, where it standeth them upon for their lives: assoon as they see the glistering of the naked sword, you may perceive all their flourishes and tricks are go, or changed into a flat running away. I will say at one word, that I think Seneca as much and more a Philosopher in deed then in name. His life and his death can say it, and in the last Chapter hereafter we must speak more at large. For this present let us a little consider his tongue. Life is a sweet thing, and all desire to live, yea the beasts themselves seem to have a singular contentment, for that they have a being and life. If life be a pleasant thing, yet is it much more pleasing and acceptable when it is well governed, and tendeth to a good end. So then a quiet and contented life is much better, sweeter, and more excellent, than a life full of troubles and passions. This quietness is none other but felicity and good fortune. Furthermore all men do not aspire to this end, but only wise men, and the true friends of wisdom. For the most part of men whom the earth sustaineth, do run a strange course when they should set a foot forward to betake them to some course of life: and all in manner err, when they should judge what happy life is. Those that delight in money and to gain, seek felicity in riches. The idle and slothful think, that to make great cheer, to live (as they say) in the shadow of tables, of pots, of curtains, and at the ease of their bodies, is the only soveragine good. There are another sort of men greedy of worldly honour, which establish an unspeakable happiness to command many, (in what manner, or how dear soever it be) taking themselves to be half gods, if they may see many men, or two or three go under their feet. But wise men establish sovereign good in virtue. And if they be asked, What is a happy life? they answer, That it consisteth in living virtuously, and serving God. This was the Philosophy of Seneca in general. But because there are certain clouds of opinions which darken human felicity, it is good we look to examine them briefly. Nature hath dispersed in us some seeds of virtue, and hath given us some grains of knowledge and wisdom, which are borne with us and take root (if we may say so) in our hearts. This notwithstanding, we must manure it, and virtue hath his precepts which openeth the way to attain to the sovereign good, whereunto the Philosophy of the Stoics doth summon us. Four things are enemies to that good, yea they obscure it, they corrupt and abolish it in an evil disposed heart. The first cause is death, that is to say, the fear and imagination to loose this earthly and corruptible life. For where there is fear, it cannot be said there is contentment and felicity, but misery: it is not a pleasant life, but a sorrowful life, and a torment of the mind. The second, is the bodily grief, linger diseases, cruel and sharp in a thousand kinds, the torments and tortures: and briefly a thousand evils which hurt the contentment of the soul. For no man will say, that to be troubled in his mind with a burning fever, to cry out night and day because of the gout, or for pain of his teeth and the reins, or to be brought to any extraordinary torment, and to be dismembered by the hangman: is a thing where there is no apprehension that moveth the spirit. Besides all this, there are the griefs of the soul: mourning, loss of children, of kinsfolks and dear friends: for that afflicteth and eateth our thoughts without ceasing, and giveth tragical Poets ample arguments to writ upon. If the grief of the body affecteth the rest and contentment of the mind: much more doth the inward grief and anguish. And finally there are passions, as joy and pleasure, which hinder and abolish the feeling of a happy life. Those that are possessed with an extraordinary joy, oftentimes both do and say many fond things and gestures, in words and works. As if a man be told that land is fallen to him, or that he is raised to wished dignity not looked for: ye shall see him play the fool and wanton like a child. There are some whose manners honour changeth in such sort, that from the day till the next morning you shall not know them by their face, by their countenances, by their words, nor by their apparel: they will strait disdain them that they called before servants or loving friends. Now this vain pride and foolishness are in manner one self thing: and it may be said that all ambitious men are altogether besotted, or doubtless they will be so. If thou wilt make me see a proud man, one that presumeth to know much, and that looketh upon his feathers, as they say, I will presently show thee a fool furnished at all pieces. There is no surer sign of foolishness than pride: and who will say then 
Pride showeth foolishness.  that the life of such a one is happy? And as for pleasures, we see how a man is carried away, who then is no more himself: but to the contrary, thinketh that the destruction of body and soul is his sovereign good. Now amongst all the Philosophers which have tried to remedy these troubles of the mind, and to maintain a man in this contentment which they call sovereign: it may be said the Stoics were the chief, and among the Stoics Seneca. I will not here enter into examination of the doctrine of this sect, nor declare that which Zeno and Chrysippus have written, as may be gathered of Laertius and of Plutarch: but simply to stay myself upon my principal purpose, which is is of Seneca. And in this place to follow that which many learned men have gathered of his works, to show what was his Philosophy: unto the which we will add some summary of reasons with the which he helpeth himself, to fight with those passions, and to make the soul at peace, as much as he himself could apprehended it. This is out of all question, that Seneca was one of the first and principal Philosophers of the Stoics among the Latins, as he himself doth boast in his own writings. Furthermore, he exalteth this sect above all others, and saith, That the Stoics do make profession of a Philosophy worthy of men: forasmuch as there is difference betwixt them and others, as betwixt males and females. That the other kinds of Philosophies are made, to hear and to obey: but that the Stoic is borne to teach and command. He being desirous to present some perfect Idea of a wise man, bringeth forth Cato: and in the Treaty where he will show that the wise man cannot be offended nor outraged, he lifteth up this man out of the rank of all other men, and specially commendeth him in his death. If he speak of the Stoics, he calleth them his, and doth make open profession of their instructions. Now in many places he distinguisheth Philosophy into three parts, which he calleth Rational, Moral, and Natural. But after the fashion of the Stoics, he rested more upon the moral, albeit that all his discourses show that he had a marvelous vein in the rational. And the books of natural questions show that he had a deep insight in the secrets of nature. So then his principal end was to frame good manners, and to bring men to the knowledge of the contentment of the mind, to desire and apprehended it. They saw him oftentimes exhort Lucilius to the study of moral Philosophy, as in the end of his 89. Epistle: So set down these things, saith he, to others, that thou thyself mayst take pleasure to comprehend them. Writ, to read afterwards thy writing, referring all things to the reformation of life, and to the means of appeasing the fury of passions. Study, not to be wiser than others, but to be better. On the other side, he turned the same Lucilius from the study of Logic, and from his subtle disputations, in the which they please themselves that do but linger after syllables and words. Leave (said he to him in the 71. Epistle) this occupation and sifting of letters, to those masters that shut up a thing so magnificent as Philosophy is in syllables: and do embase, yea bring to nothing, and utterly destroy the mind, in teaching things that are not worth the labour and study. I am content that thou resemble wise men that have invented letters, but not those that teach them. In some other places he laugheth at the subtleties of these school disputers, namely, where he setteth down one of their fashions of speech, to wit, in the 48. which is the 49. in the editions not well corrected, upon these words: Must (that is to say a mouse) is a syllable: a mouse eateth cheese, therefore it followeth that a syllable eateth cheese. But it is not only that he setteth upon Logic, or rational Philosophy, but also on the sciences commonly called the liberal sciences, and especially when there is question of the Philosophy of manners. Witness that which he writeth in the fourscore and eighth Epistle worthy to be diligently read of all, but specially of them whom such sciences do puff up, & who for the rest do little care to rule their life within the compass of virtue. In sum, he declareth in a great number of places, that Philosophy consisteth not in the knowledge of these things, but that the end thereof is, to give counsel against all the accidents of this life: and that men were wont to repair unto Philosophers, who do show them in the midst of darkness (wherewith human society is snared) the way they must follow not to err, showing what things are necessary and unprofitable: how easy the laws of nature are: how joyfully we live & at our ease, following of the same. And to the contrary, that there can be nothing but misery in the condition of those, which suffer themselves to wander rather by opinion, then by nature and reason. I think therefore that all the Philosophy of Seneca looketh unto that, to establish the mind all that may be: to attain to the which it speaketh of the sovereign good, to the end to draw us to aspire unto it. And because the accidents of this life, namely the causes before mentioned, do obscure this happiness: he striveth with infinite discourses and reasons against them. Now it were to make a great volume, if all were put together that he speaketh, & it were better to leave it to their liberty that shall read the works of this Philosopher, of the which I will note here some heads or rules, on the which he reasoneth very amply to remedy the griefs before named. The intention therefore of Seneca above all in matters most important, is to beaten down first all corporal and spiritual passions: to wit, opinion and apprehension. He discovereth the vanity, showeth the wrong which men of understanding do, and the error of their judgement: who see things as in the water, and with a corrupt eye. Which done, he goeth further, and seeketh to show, that when that which is called evil is arrived, the wise man feeleth it not: as also it is as little trouble to him when one thinketh to touch him, as it is then when one threatened him a far off. For proof of this, he showeth that they cannot hurt a wise man any manner of way: and that no man is injuried or hurt but by himself. That the wise man bending all his thoughts unto virtue, cannot be offended, but rather overcometh all human accidents, as well for respect of himself, as for all others. Hereupon he cometh to this point, to maintain, that that which they call evil, is good to the wise man: who like a good husband maketh his profit of all in such sort, that there is nothing in the world but serveth his turn, and whereof he is not master with a singular contentment. Of these rules and Maxims, there rise many Paradoxes dispersed in his books, the which if a man consider apart, are very strange and ridiculous withal: but being brought to their originals, they may receive some exposition. Furthermore, to frame a perfect wise man, he will have nothing pleasant unto him but virtue, which consisteth in contemning all that the world admireth: and a love of beautiful things which give contentment to the soul. That all that which is earthly and corruptible, should be esteemed as much as nothing: that the wise man enfolding himself in his virtue, seethe all the greatness of this world very low under him, and as it were trodden under the feet of his heart. And that in the midst of all dangers, yea even in the most fiercest death of all, and when heaven should fall upon him: he remaineth merry and pleased with the felicity which his virtue bringeth unto him. Afterwards he reasoneth particularly against the apprehensions of death: and showeth that it is as inevitable, as it is also good and necessary. That the greatest contentment of a wise man is, that he can break in sunder the iron chain that holdeth him, as often and when he thinketh good: and upon this occasion treateth in some places of the immortality of the soul, as in the end of the seven and fiftieth Epistle, in the threescore and fift, threescore and sixteenth, and the hundred and seventeenth, in his comfortable discourse unto Martia, and elsewhere. Touching these corporal pains, he showeth that they cannot turn a man out of the pathway of virtue, nor from the profession of constancy and truth, nor from the resolution to maintain a just cause. That there is no pain nor grief so sharp, that can let a wise man to think of his duty, and to acquit himself so far as his hands may reach. That these corporal griefs cannot eclipse the lest of the beams of virtue, and the hope of the immortality of our souls, for the which we exchange in the day that our pains comes as it were to have greatest strength, all the discommodities we apprehended in this transitory life. Furthermore, that the troubles which the estate of this world doth spread as a vail before our minds, cannot blindfold them to see the perfect beauty of virtue, and to hear the excellent comforts which she proposeth. Also that the wise man is sufficiently defended not to be overcome by passions, which have no power on him that is in the ordinary safeguard and protection of virtue, in possession whereof he is already so entered, that he still goeth forward every day more than other, shortly to enjoy her with perfection. To conclude, that there is no hindrance at all for him whom virtue pleaseth, and whom she bringeth to immortality. And this is a little touch (me thinketh) which may be particularly noted in Seneca: in the beauty whereof, as in faces better form, there are some spots discovered as in other Philosophers, namely the Stoics. Above all, in his portraiture of this wise man, he imagineth in this life a thing that is not to be found in a corrupt man given over to sensuality, which is, virtue and perfection. But let us refer that to the ignorance of true religion, and consider this Philosopher in the limits of his sect. For other Paradoxes, as of the world, of the spirit, of passions and affections of virtue, and some others borrowed of the school of his masters, that Plutarch hath examined in his book Of common conceptions, and in that which he entitleth, The contradiction of the Stoics: that which is evil doth condemn itself, or excuseth itself under the questions and disputations, which permit a man to say somewhat. And for the other, forasmuch as Seneca made profession to form manners, he seemeth therein to have given way and free passage to some of his conceptions, and after the example of Painters, to give some shadows unto his tables, the better to retain the judgement of the reader. That which I lest allow in him, or rather which I cannot approve, is the excessive praise he giveth to his wise man, lifting him up, yea above the gods. And afterwards in diverse places he would have this wise man put himself to death, and of his authority and power dissolve the bands of this life, without leave of the sovereign Captain, and with a testimony of a strange cowardliness and distrust of the doctrine of the eternal Providence: the which would have us keep a steadfast hope and confidence, yea even when things seem to be most desperate. And that which he often applieth unto the death of Cato, whom he infinitely commendeth, hath been by us examined in the comparison of Cato and of Photion. Furthermore, Seneca stayed not upon one or two in his discourses he hath left unto us, but hath culled out of all the Philosopher's Greekes and Latins which were before him, all that he thought good to set down for the rule and government of our life, according to the end he looked unto. And as for his writings, all that we have left concerning moral and natural Philosophy, with the pleasant discourse upon the death of Claudius, is out of all disputation until this present: as the style that is hard, short, sententious, and in apt terms for that time, and aster the manner of teaching of the Stoics, doth show it. But for the books entitled, Controversiae & Suasoriae, that is to say, plead and orations, or declamations, I am of the same opinion that diverse learned men of our time are, to wit: that these books are not of Seneca, but of the father of Seneca. And because many other learned men ancient and modern have thought the contrary, we must needs say somewhat for proof of the opinion which we follow. The author of these collections saith, that he heard Ovid and Cicero declaim, and that he was familiar with Portius Latro, Valerius Messala, and with others that were in the time of Augustus. When he heard Cicero, he could be no less than fifteen years old: how can that be attributed unto Seneca, dead in the end of the Empire of Nero, well-near six score years after that time? Now, that which Tacitus speaketh in divers places of the age of Seneca, reacheth not so far: and Nero speaking to Seneca a little before his death, said that he had yet strength enough to use his goods, and govern his possessions. That could not be spoken of an old man of a hundred and twelve years old. Also Seneca speaketh otherwise of his age in one of his Epistles noted here before, where he telleth that about the fifth year of the Empire of Tiberius, he came out of his infancy, of the age of eighteen years. Furthermore, Seneca was Praetor, Quaestor, and Consul, as in his discourse to his mother Elbia, the Chronicles, and the Lawyer's books do make mention. And to the contrary, his father dedicating his books above named unto Seneca, junius, and Mela, his three sons: and speaking to Mela in the Preface of his second book of plead, he exhorteth him to follow the inclination of his mind, and contenting himself with the state of a private gentleman, and a ROMAN knight as his father, the better to warrant his life in the hazards and accidents of this world. That which made Seneca to be esteemed the author of those books there, is, for that his father did bear that name: and that these three, Seneca, Novatus, (surnamed junius Gallo) and Mela be brethren, and the sons of one self father and mother, it appeareth by the history of Tacitus, in the fifteenth book of his Annals, and by the writings of Seneca himself, specially by the discourse to Elbia, where he saith amongst other things: Consider my brethren, that being safe, you have no cause to accuse fortune: you have in them cause to rejoice in a diverse kind. For the one, through his good wit hath attained to honour, and the other hath wisely despised it. Tacitus plainly showeth that, as we have seen here before. And whereas commonly they allege the age of Seneca to be six score years and above, to give the more authority to the plead and Orations of his father, that is to say, to the fragments which he seemeth to have set forth in the favour of his children, to frame them betimes one day to practise that whereof he made profession, to wit, eloquence: there cannot be showed any sufficient or authentic testimony of that which is alleged, that Seneca had three sons called, Novatus, Seneca, and Mela. Touching the true books of Seneca, the dilgent reading and consideration of them will incontinently show the profit that may be gathered by them. For a man to stand resolved against the divers and troublesome events of this life, to repose himself sweetly upon the divine Providence, to contemn death, and to desire the blessed immortality, for to repress the insolency of strange passions which do often carry us too high and too far, and for to enjoy a great rest amongst so many tempests and wracks as happen daily, I know not an Historian among the paynim, Philosopher, Orator, or author whatsoever, that I would prefer before Seneca: yea, there are few to be compared to him, and the most part do follow him far off.  
This bringeth us to the consideration of some censures made of Seneca by diverse learned men, as well ancient, as those of this latter age, to the end to induce them that behold Seneca, to look nearly into him: for if there be any thing wherein human wit doth give scope and licence, let another judge that. But that specially is as an ordinary thing unto them that make profession studiously to thrust their noses into books, to mark presently, and sometime too suddenly, that which is before them: to bear others in hand afterwards that things are such as they did imagine them to be. And although I do not acknowledge myself to be one of the number of them that read and know passably something: yet for all that ere I beware, I am too often attainted with this disease, which possesseth those that make many books, reproving and judging others. But as I do not commend them in any wise unto whom the books of sound erudition are not pleasing, (like to weak stomachs unto whom meats evil dressed and also hurtful, seem to be the most savoury) but feeds themselves with their follies, vain fancies and abominations, wherewith this latter age is miserably defiled: so would I wish that the excellent wits which are yet in EUROPE were on the one side better advised in many respects, and in the others more careful to discern that which is commendable and blamable, certain or uncertain in good authors: to note them particularly unto posterity, with two conditions: the one, that it should be done by the sufficientest men, and as it were of purpose appointed to that end, by consent of fame and truth: the other, that all scoffs, spiteful and sinister passions, should be far from such censurers. To come again to Seneca: I see that some have too much axalted him, as I think: and others have embased him more than needed. Which being particularly considered, peradventure it will not mislike: and if it profit not, I hope it will move the Reader to some thought higher than mine, both to search matters more exactly, as also to settle his opinion upon mine with the compass of truth, of mildness, and of virtue. Because Seneca speaketh amply in some places of the providence and majesty of God, before whom he exhorteth us to walk, and sometimes prayeth Lucilius to live with men as if God saw him: and to speak with God, as if men heard him. Also that he died in the end of the Empire of Nero, at which time S. Paul the Apostle was prisoner at ROME. Some have thought that Seneca of long time had leaned unto Christian religion, by reason whereof his writings were read as proceeding from a man advanced in the knowledge of the true God. And otherwise he was contented to speak in general, and as under a veil of the ignorance of his time, and because he would have them no more envied whom the world did altready hate. Briefly, that he was a secret disciple of Christ, in the school of his Apostle. In confirmation whereof, they show certain letters of Seneca unto Paul, with mutual answers: and they do add also the testimony of a great christian Doctor, who hath placed Seneca in the Catalogue of Saints, whose souls we believe are in glory with their Saviour. Howbeit certain learned men of our time have spoken their opinion touching all that, to whom I do agreed, to wit: that whether Seneca saw the Apostle and spoke with him, whether he disdained to see him, or that he cared not, nor did inquire after him, as I think that he thought then of any thing else rather than of the doctrine taught by S. Paul: there is nothing in his life, in his writings, nor in his death, that cometh near to the Christian belief and profession. But if we should call all those Christians, in whose writings we do read goodly and true sentences of wisdom, justice, and the providence of God: it would make a strange mingling of Scripture with profane books: and further, they would dispute if the one should be put in the place of the other. As we see that in the bodies of the books which for excellency we call the Bible, there are two, in the which the name of God is never expressed: which notwithstanding are holy, and do contain infinite instructions and singular consolations. Seneca having written in some place, The Godhead is I know not what great thing, yea so great, that it passeth all man's understanding. Our life is dedicated to his service. Let us take order to be approved of the same: for a hidden conscience is good for nothing: God seethe us. An ancient Doctor said thereupon, Any man that should know God, could he set forth any more certain verity, then that which is spoken here by the mouth of a man, that knew not what true religion meant? For he representeth the majesty of God, saying that it is so great, that man's understanding cannot measure it: and plainly, the fountain of verity: showing that the life of men is not unprofitable, (as some Epicurians think) since it is referred to the glory of the Creator, when they follow justice and piety. Other discourses of Seneca might be alleged touching the providence of God, against idolatry, superstition, and impiety: but the consequence is not stable. That he hath therefore known any thing of the doctrine of the Gospel, you shall not found one discourse in all his writings, and the doctrine of the Stoics doth in nothing agreed with that, which neither flesh nor blood can reveal: and whereof it is not our purpose to speak in this place, which requireth not that we should discover the holy things, and much less that we should mingle them with the profane. As for the letters published under the name of Seneca and of Paul: both the style and the matter show at the first sight, that it is the work of some idle man that thought himself very wise, if he dissembled with those which did not sift it so narrowly. And we shall not need here to make a recapitulation of the just and learned censures that have been made: where you shall see the madness, repugnancies, and falsehoods hidden in those letters, if they be conferred with the life and doctrine of them unto whom they were attributed. We do not meet with any thing so much in the writings of Seneca, as the constancy and contempt of death: how cometh it then that you shall not found one word that showeth him to be a Christian? That Nero hath not discovered or perceived any thing to charge Seneca with, when he commanded him to die? For that had been an ample discharge before the people that extremely hated the Christians. Suetonius and Tacitus, little favouring our religion, would not have forgotten it. But how chanceth it that in his death he remembered jupiter, and not Christ? Now, in regard of the Catalogue which is alleged for a buckler: I desire that learned men do consider, if they have not wronged the person to whom it is attributed, mingling amongst his works this scoff, and others which are no better, forged upon the like anvil and with the self same hammer, which the letters were before mentioned. Now I think, (these are the words of a learned man that had well read Seneca) that it is best for the reader to take Senecaes' books, as proceeding from a man ignorant of true religion. For if you read them as a pagan, he hath written like a Christian: but if you take him for a Christian, know that it is a pagan that speaketh. There are many things that may inflame us with the love of virtue: they will prick us more nearly, if we remember from whom they come. If we meet with any sentences that seem to be drawn out of our fountains, they will be so much the sweeter unto us: and as for uncertain and false opinions, they will offend us less, when we shall say that it is a Pagan that hath set them out. Let us come to the other point, and consider those that have too much embased him, either in respect of his life, or because of his writings. For his life, some (and Dion amongst others) have accused him of avarice, of ambition, of dissolution, of adultery, and of other such like vices: unto the which I will not vouchsafe to make answer, since so many learned men ancient, and modern, and the life and death of Seneca do say the contrary. And it were an easy thing for one that would cut Dion a gown of his own cloth, to discover in him many things impertinent and evil beseeming the name whereof he maketh profession. But it is better to confute evident slanders by silence, then with long discourse. Some other speak not so plainly, but say that Seneca lived not after his own precepts. On the contrary, the honour which he maketh often to Epicurus, seemeth to show that he hath mingled the wickedness of the Epicurians with the austerity of the Stoics. I grant that Seneca hath not in all the parts of his life showed this constancy which he requireth of a wise man, and I perceive well that he hath dissembled too many things in the government of Nero: the which the wise Thrasca would never have allowed of the presence, nor of the word, nor of the deed. But man's infirmity is such, that that which the mind seethe plainly enough, it cannot or dare not effect it, because of the resistance of reason and passions: or if it dare, it is stayed with the lest object through this natural faintness that keepeth us back, when we should resolutely follow virtue. Now of this censure there followeth no more, but that the Eternal wisdom doth give us knowledge of many notable things uttered by the mouth and testimony of this stranger: and in the mean time doth admonish us in no wise to stay ourselves upon him that speaketh: which she doth well in her proper house, where she understandeth that we lend our ears unto those which go with other feet than they should, so that they keep within the bounds of their commission. And as a Sergeant or Herald that had but one eye, or were lame, could notwithstanding deliver a message of importance in the name of the Prince, and must be heard: even so whatsoever he be that cometh to us with the notes of chaste and fair Verity, he aught to have audience, to be believed and followed, so long as he containeth himself near to her, and rejecteth all that is contrary, be it in words or in fact. For Epicurus, Seneca allegeth some notable matters of him, wherefore it followeth not that he doth allow of his faults, nor of his sect, as is also to be acknowledged in many places. And there can be nothing observed in the life of Seneca, that showeth him to be an Epicurian or a Libertine. For even in the midst of the abundance and of the great riches he possessed by the liberality of Nero, they saw a great moderation witnessed, also in his death: not being forbidden to Noblemen to possess gold, silver, earthly goods, and movables of great value, so that such prosperity do not make them drunk, to 'cause them despise God and men. As for the last, be they ancient or modern whose names I am not content to express, which very boldly do censure the writings of Seneca: and in agreeing to him in some excellent thing, they afterwards take licence to think him rude in his style, too rigorous a judge of other men's labours, a foolish jester, affected in his discourses, troublesome by reason of his repetitions, without art, of small judgement, forgetful, trusting to his own wit, curious of light things, and seeking I know not how to be particular, because he would not seem to have borrowed any thing of any man. These be accusers in the most part of such articles, and no competent judges, saving the honour due to their erudition. For proof whereof we do exhort the reader to take one whole book of Seneca which he liketh of best, and then to examine it all, if I speak evil, saying, that he had wrong to be so tossed and played upon. I think that there is nothing in his works, be it in his style, in the method, or in matter that could be better performed. Also if they consider what words he useth, how he joineth them together, what is the end of his discourses, and what the matters are that he treateth of: they will be less rigorous unto him. For conclusion, I desire that Senecaes' life, referred to his writings, do teach four things to myself, and to all others. The one, that being in mean or base condition, we never care to climb up any higher. The other, that if we change a mean estate with another greater, we do remember the former, to converse modestly with great and small. The third, that we never pass for any worldly prosperity, but that we be always afraid of it, until we be loosed by the means of a happy death. And the last, that in our public and private conversation, in our thoughts, words, writings, and actions, there shine in us the love and reverence of true piety and justice.  
The end of Senecaes' life.   

THE LIVES OF NINE EXCELLENT CHIEFTAINS OF WAR, TRANSLATED OUT OF LATIN FROM AEMYLIUS PROBUS.  

THE LIFE OF Miltiades.  
MILTIADES an ATHENLAN, the son of Cimon, being one of the chiefest of his city, as well because of the ancientry of his race, as for his modesty joined to the glory of his predecessors, after he had attained to that age, which his citizens had occasion not only to hope well of him, but also to assure themselves that he would be such a one as they judged him after they knew him: it chanced that the ATHENIANS resolved to sand a Colony into CHERRONESUS. And because many men prepared themselves to go thither, and that there was great suit who should lead them: they chose some to go to DELPHES, to inquire of the Oracle who should be their Captain: forasmuch as the THRACIANS at that time did occupy all those parts thereabouts, and they must be driven out by force of arms. The Prophetess enjoined the Commissioners expressly to choose Miltiades for chief of this people or Colony, the which should prospero in this enterprise under his conduct. With this answer Miltiades accompanied with a chosen company of men, sailed unto CHERRONESUS, and when he came near to LEMNOS to subdue the inhabitants of that Island, he summoned them without any compulsion. They mocking him, answered, That they would then yield themselves when Miltiades should come from ATHENS to LEMNOS with a Northrenes wind, which was full in the faces of them that should come from ATHENS to LEMNOS. Miltiades having no leisure to tarry there, hoissed sail, and arrived in CHERRONESUS. And there having in a short time broken all the troops of the barbarous people, he made himself Lord of the whole country, built up some fortresses, placed his people in the country which he had brought with him, & made them rich, by diverse attempts against the self same countrymen. Wherein he prevailed as much by his wisdom, as through his good fortune. For after he had through the valiantness of his soldiers overcome the armies of his enemies, he established his affairs with great equity, and resolved to remain in CHERRONESUS. So he was there as king, although he had not the name, and attained to this degree of honour as much through his upright administration of justice, as for his sufficiency in wars. This kept him not from doing his duty unto the ATHENIANS, from whom he was parted: the which was the occasion indeed, that as well those which had sent him thither, as those with whom he was embarked, were content he should continued there always Governor. CHERRONESUS being brought to this order, he came again to LEMNOS, and according to the promise of the inhabitants, he demanded that they would yield up their city unto him: for they promised to give him their hands when he should come unto them from his country by the North wind. Now (said he) that his country was in CHERRONESUS. The CARIANS, who held LEMNOS at that time, seeing things go otherwise then they looked for, and taken not so much by their words as by the good fortune of their adversaries, durst not make head, but went strait from thence. So all things prospering according to his desire, he brought all the other Isles called the CYCLADESES, to be subject to the ATHENIANS.  
At the same time Darius king of PERSIA having passed all his army out of ASIA into EUROPE, determined to make war with the SCYTHIANS, and made a bridge over Danuby to pass over his troops: the guard of the which in his absence, was committed unto the Lords which he had brought with him out of JONIA and AEOLIA, and unto every one of the which he had given perpetual power and government over their towns. Supposing by this policy, easily to bring into subjection all the GREEKS' that dwelled in ASIA, if he gave the guard of the towns unto their friends and confederates, that could not escape by any means if he were oppressed. Miltiades was of the number of the guards of this bridge. News being brought by diverse messages that Darius had but ill success, and that the SCYTHIANS held him hard to it: he persuaded the other guards not to loose the occasion that was offered to set GRECE at liberty, considering that if Darius and his forces he brought with him were overthrown, all EUROPE should be in peace, and the natural GREEKS' remaining in ASIA should see themselves out of danger, and freed from the domination of the PERSIANS'. And this might easily be done, since that by cutting of the bridge, Darius should in few days be cut in pieces by the enemies, or should die for penury with all his army. Many agreed unto it: but Istiaeus MILESIAN broke the neck of it, saying, that the kingdom of Darius upon whom their authority depended, made difference betwixt the good of the affairs of them that commanded, and the people that was under subjection and government. That if Darius should happen to die, they should be driven out and punished by their citizens: and therefore that he was of a contrary mind to all the rest, thinking nothing more profitable, then to see the kingdom of the PERSIANS' established. The greater part of them being of his mind, Miltiades was afraid, for that there were so many witnesses, that the king should soon be advertised of that which was propounded: wherefore he left CHERRONESUS, and returned again to ATHENS. Now though his counsel took no place, yet he was highly commended, having showed more regard to the good and liberty of all, then to his own particular advancement.  
For Darius, he being returned out of EUROPE into ASIA, his friends counseled him to set upon GRECE. Whereupon he armed a fleet of five hundred galleys under the charge of Datis and Artaphernes, giving them two hundred thousand footmen, and ten thousand horse, saying that he would be even with the ATHENIANS, because that the JONIANS had in favour of the ATHENIANS forced the city of SARDIS, and killed his garrisons. These two Lieutenants of Darius being arrived in EUBOEA with their galleys, they presently wan ERETRIA, took all the inhabitants of the country prisoners, and sent them to the king in ASIA. From thence they went into ATTICA, and camped in the plain of MARATHON, which is within five leagues or thereabouts from ATHENS. The ATHENIANS astonished at so great a number of enemies, and so near unto them, knew not of whom to demand aid, but of the LACEDÆMONIANS, unto whom they dispatched a very swift footman, a foot Post, called Philippides, to advertise them that they had need to sand them aid, and that presently. In the mean time they chose ten Captains to command and govern their troops: Miltiades was one of them. So there was great disputation among them, to wit, whether they should keep the walls of their city, or they should go meet with their enemies to bid them battle. There was none but Miltiades that reasoned, that there was no delaying or protracting of time, but they must make a camp: and that that would lift up the hearts of the ATHENIANS, when they should see and behold, that they had a good opinion of their virtue and valiantness: and that the enemy's hearts would fail them, when they should understand that so few men came resolutely to fight with them. At that time the ATHENIANS had no aid from any city but from PLATAEA, which sent them a thousand men: who being come, the army of the GREEKS' was compounded but of ten thousand men in all, who desired nothing but to fight: That was the cause that Miltiades counsel was preferred above all the other Captains. For the ATHENIANS respecting his valour, caused their troops to march into the field, and they camped in a place of advantage. Than the next morning having disposed their footmen at the foot of the mountain, which they had in flank, they gave charge upon their enemies courageously, with a new and sure fashion of fight. For there were trees growing here and there, by means whereof they were under covert of the rocks, and the trees kept them from being enclosed by the multitude of the enemy's horsemen. Now although Datis saw that the place did not favour and affect him, yet because he had so many men, all his desire was to fight, thinking he should win and obtain much, if he could join before the aid of the LACEDÆMONIANS came to them. And therefore he made an hundred thousand footmen and ten thousand horse to march against them. Than he went to charge the ATHENIANS, who made excellent proof of their valiantness, considering that they having to fight one against ten, they made the PERSIANS' fly for life, and so astonished them, that in stead of returning back to their camp, they saved themselves in their ships. See, here was one of the bravest battles that a man can speak of: for never such a handful of men overcame so great forces. Peradventure it will not be impertinent to show what reward Miltiades had for obtaining of so noble a victory: to the end that all men may know the better, that all commonweals have one disposition. As the honours of the people of ROME were in times past rare and simple, and by consequent more glorious & to be desired: and now to the contrary more disordered and less esteemed: the very same we found to have been practised among the ATHENIANS. For all the honour they did unto this Miltiades, the saviour of ATHENS and of all GRECE, was, that the battle of MARATHON having been painted over the porch called Poecile, his image was set up the first in rank of all the Captains, with the countenance of a man speaking to his soldiers, and going first to fight. The same people of ATHENS being come to be of greater power, and corrupted by the gifts of those which sued for charge and office in the commonwealth, caused three hundred statues to be set up for Demetrius the PHALERIAN.  
After this battle, the ATHENIANS gave a fleet of threescore and ten galleys unto Miltiades, to make war upon the Isles which had aided the PERSIANS'. He compelled some by simple commandments, others by force of arms to yield themselves. And not being able by any persuasions to bring the I'll men of PAROS to reason (proud because of their riches) he landed his forces, enclosed the town with trenches, and took from the besieged all means either to come by victuals or munition of war: then having set up his Gabions and Mantelets, he came near the walls. He was at the point to win the town, when one night (not known by what mischance) there was a great fire seen upon firm land in a wood which they saw from the Isle. This flame made those that were besieged, and them that lay at the siege think that it was a sign of the fleet of the PERSIANS', to encourage the PABIANS, and to keep them from yielding up their town. hereupon Miltiades fearing that Darius army by sea was at hand, he set fire of his Mantelets and Gabions and hoissed sail towards ATHENS, where he arrived with all the galleys he carried out: wherewith the people were marvelously offended. They accused him of treason, that when he might have won PAROS by assault, he had taken money of the king, and was returned without fight, or doing any memorable act. At that time he was sick of the wounds he had received at the siege of PAROS: wherefore not being able to defend himself in person, his brother Stesagoras pleaded his cause, the which having been debated, he was quit for death, yet condemned to pay a fine of thirty thousand crowns, to the which they valued the charge of the army in that journey. And being unable to pay so great a sum, he was committed to the common prison, and there died. Now this matter of PAROS was but a cloak: and they speak of it thus for another reason. For the tyranny of Pisistratus, who had altered the estate some years before, was the cause that the ATHENIANS were afraid of their citizens that were in any credit. Miltiades, that had had many great and honourable charges, seemed that he could no more be brought to live as a private person, considering also that he was given to this desire to command always. For all the time of his abode in CHERRONESUS there was no other Lord but he, and also they called him tyrant: but just, because he had not gotten this authority by force of arms, but with the consent of his citizens, and carried himself very modestly. Now they take and call them tyrants, which have a perpetual power in a commonwealth that was free before. Furthermore, Miltiades was a very gentle person, wonderful affable, and there was not so mean a man, but might easily come and speak with him. All the towns respected him, he was very famous, and they reputed him for one of the bravest Captains of GRECE. The people of ATHENS considering these things, had rather condemn this innocent man in a fine, then to be longer in pain to take heed of him.  
The end of Miltiades life.   

THE LIFE OF Pausanias.  
Pausanias' LACEDAEDONIAN was a great man, but unconstant in all the parts of his life, furnished with virtues, but overwhelmed with vices. It was he that wan that so famous victory of PLATAEES. For he being General of the GREEK army, this great Lord Mardonius, a MEDE by nation, and son in law of the king of PERSIA, the most wise and valiant captain among all the PERSIANS', followed with two hundredth thousand chosen footmen, and twenty thousand horse: he was overcome, the rest of all his troops driven out of GRECE, and himself slain in the field. This victory raised up Pausanias' heart to such a height, that he began to confounded the affairs, and to devise great change in his brain. The first shame he received was, that he having offered a trivet of gold unto the temple of DELPHES, of the booty he had gotten upon the enemies, with an Epigram containing in substance, that under his conduct the barbarous people had been overthrown before PLATAEES, and that acknowledging this victory he made this present to Apollo: the LACEDÆMONIANS razed out these verses, and wrote no other thing but the names of the towns, through whose aid the PERSIANS' had been overcome. After this battle they sent him again with an army by sea of the allies into CYPRUS and HELLESPONT, to expulse the garrisons of the barbarous people thence. The which he having fortunately executed, he then grew to be more insolent and ambitious then ever.  
For, having taken the city of BYZANCE by force, and made a great number of gentlemen of PERSIA prisoners, among which were many kinsmen of Xerxes, he secretly sent them to him, and gave it out that they escaped out of prison. Gongylus ERETRIAN did accompany them carrying letters to the king, the effect whereof was this, as Thucydides saith: Pausanias, Captain of SPARTA, knowing that the prisoners of BYZANCE are thy kinsmen, he sendeth them unto thee for a present, and desireth to be of alliance with thee, and prayeth thee to give him thy daughter in marriage. If thou do it, he promiseth that by his means SPARTA and all GRECE shall be brought under thy power. Therefore if it please thee to give ear unto it, sand him a man expressly with whom he may confer. The king very joyful and glad for the delivery of so many friends of his, sent Artabazus presently to Pausanias with letters, in the which he commendeth him, and prayeth him to spare for nothing to bring his promise to pass. If he do, that all shall be granted which he demandeth. Pausanias' understanding Xerxes' mind, resolved resolutely to put his hand to this work: which the LACEDÆMONIANS mistrusting, having sent for him home, they accused him of treason: whereof he was quit, and yet condemned to pay a fine. This was the cause that they sent him not again to the army: but shortly after he returned of his own mind, and by a rash and evil grounded Oration, he easily discovered the thought of his heart. Furthermore, he did not only change his fashion of living after the LACONIAN manner, but also of his diet and apparel. For he had a royal pomp, training a long gown after the fashion of the MEDES, followed with a troop of the MEDES and EGYPTIANS for archers of his guard. His table did so abound in all kinds of dainties after the manner of the PERSIANS', that no man could away withal. He gave no access unto him but very seldom: to them that would speak with him, he answered very proudly: and commanded with all cruelty, refusing to return any more to SPARTA.  
He went to COLONS, which is a place in the country of TROAS, and there plotted all his dangerous practices against his country and himself. When the LACEDÆMONIANS had understanding of it, they sent Ambassadors unto him with the Scytala, in the which was written, after their accustomed manner, that if he came not into the city, they would condemn him to death. This letter astonished him. Yet hoping to escape this imminent danger by force of presents, and by reason of his credit: he went home into his country, where being, the ephors made him to be apprehended, and cast into prison: for it is lawful for one of the ephors to take the king, and use him so. Nevertheless Pausanias loosed himself, being notwithstanding suspected of every man: for they had always this opinion of him, that he had intelligence with Xerxes. There are certain people there called ILOTES, and they are a great number of them, and they blow the lands of the LACEDÆMONIANS, whom they serve as slaves. It was supposed he did practise with them, under promise to make them free men. But because they had no pregnant witness to convince him, they thought they must not condemn so noble a person as he by bore conjectures, but rather to tarry till time did reveal it of itself. In these businesses, a young man called Argilius, who in his infancy had served Pausanius for a Page, having received letters of him to carry to Artabazus, he doubting lest there were somewhat therein that might hurt him, for of all those that went into PERSIA about these affairs, not one of them came back again: he broke open the seal, and knew by the contents thereof that if he had carried them, he had died for it: also the letter mentioned matters whereof Pausanias and Xerxes were agreed. Agilius carried these letters, and put them into the hands of the ephors. Here is to be noted the moderation and gravity of the LACEDÆMONIANS, that would not yet take vantage of this detection, to lay hold upon Pausanias: and resolved not to proceed with rigour, till he first discovered it himself. And therefore they taught Argilius what they would have him to do.  
At TAENARE, there is a temple of Neptune, the privilege whereof the GREEKS' hold for sacred and inviolable. Argilius fled thither, and sat him down upon the Altar: near unto the which the ephors made a cave under the ground, from whence one might understand all that any body would say unto Argilius. Some of the ephors hid themselves within it. Pausanias' understanding that his man was in the privilege of the temple, went thither marvelously troubled, and began to ask him how this change happened. Argilius confessed he had opened the letters, and seen the contents of them. Wherewith Pausanias more troubled then before, began to pray him to say never a word, and not to betray him who had done him so much good: that if he would do him that favour to help him out of this trouble, he would make him a great man. The ephors having heard all this talk, they judged that the surest way was to take him in the city. Wither they being go, Pausanias thinking he had appeased Argilius, and thereby assured his affairs, he returned home to his house: and as they were ready to catch him by the collar, he perceived by the countenance ofone of the ephors that called him as if he would have spoken with him, that they went about to entrap him. Wherhfore doubling his pace somewhat faster than those that followed him, he saved himself within the temple of Minerva, called Chalciacoes. But because he should not come out, the ephors caused the Church doors presently to be mured up, and the roof of the temple to be pulled down, that he might dye the sooner with air. It is reported that Pausanias' mother, being a very old woman, lived yet at that time: and that she understanding of the wickedness of her son, herself brought the first stone to mure him in there. Behold, how Pausanias stained with a shameful death the great glory he had obtained in the wars. Being brought half dead out of the temple, he died immediately. Some would have had his body carried to the gibbet: others liked not that opinion, and buried him far from the place where he died: from whence he was digged up again, by commandment of an Oracle of DELPHES, and put in the same place where he died.  
The end of Pausanias' life.   

THE LIFE OF Thrasybulus.  
FOr Thrasybulus, he was an ATHENIAN, the son of one called Lycus. If we should consider his virtue a part, and leave his fortune behind, it may be we should place him first of all others. And to confess a troth, I know no man more faithful, more constant, more nobly minded, and more loving to his country, than he. For whereas many have desired (and few executed) to free their country from the hands of one only tyrant: it was his fortune to deliver his country from the violence of thirty tyrants. But it chanced, I know not how, that he which went before all others in virtue, was put down by many others in chargeand dignity. In the wars of PELOPONNESUS, Alcibiades did nothing without him, but he on the contrary did many things without Alcibiades, and wan honour through the goodness and excellency of his nature. This notwithstanding, all the exploits of war aught to be divided amongst the Chieftains, soldiers, and fortune: for when armies meet, that which hath been demtermined in counsel, is executed by the force and valiantness of the soldiers that fight. Wherefore the soldier may pretend right to that which his General hath done: Fortune challengeth the better part, and may say that she hath in such a case stood them in better stead than all the wisdom of the General. Even so then, this worthy act of Thrasybulus is proper to himself. For as the thirty tyrants established by the SPARTANS', that kept the city of ATHENS in subjection, had banished part of the citizens escaped from the war, put some to death, and forfeited the goods of others: Thrasybulus was the first and only man that began to make war with them. He was gotten into a strong hold, called PHYLE, in the territory of ATTICA, having but thirty men with him in all.  
This was the beginning of the health of the ATHENIANS, and the foundation of the liberty unto the goodliest commonwealth of GRECE. And for as much as the tyrants scorned him and his company, it was the cause of their destruction, and of the preservation of Thrasybulus: and their not caring to set upon him and his, made them stronger by the leisure they had given them. The which should teach all to remember this rule: that we must never despise our enemy. And so it is not spoken in vain, that the mother of a coward doth never weep. For all his fame that went of him, many did not join with him: for then those that were best affected, made war with the tyrants more with their tongues then with their hands. From PHYLE Thrasibulus went to the port of PYRAEA, and did fortify the fortress called MUNYCHIA: the which the tyrants did assault, but they were repulsed with such shame, that they suddenly retired to the town with loss of arms and baggage. In this action, Thrasybulus showed himself no less wise than valiant: for he commanded his men to touch none that made no resistance, thinking it reasonable that the citizens should pardon one the other: and there was not a man of them hurt, but those that assaulted them. He would strip none of the dead, nor suffer any thing to be taken from them, but their arms and victuals which he needed. Critias, the chief of all the tyrants, having fought very valiantly against Thrasybulus, was slain at the second assault. After he was dispatched, Pausanias' king of SPARTA came to the aid of the ATHENIANS, and made peace betwixt Thrasybulus and those which kept the city: with these conditions, that the thirty tyrants, and the ten new governors, which had committed as many cruelties as the tyrants themselves, should be banished, and their goods forfeited, without touching any other citizens: and that the sovereignty and government of the estate should be resto read again unto the people.  
It was another fine device of Thrasybulus, that after he had pacified all matters, and obtained great credit in the city, he made a law that no man should be called in question nor troubled for things that were passed, and that was called Amnistia, or law of oblivion. But he was more careful to keep it, then to publish it. For some of his followers in his exile, complotted to kill some that were pardoned: but he stopped it by open proclamation, and kept his promise. To recompense these so many good deeds of his, the people gave him a Crown of two branches of Bays, the which got him no envy, but great glory: because he had obtained it through the good will of his citizens, and not by force. It was wisely spoken of Pittacus, one of the seven Sages: when the MITYLENIANS gave him many thousand of days work of lands, I pray you, said he, give me not that thing which is envied of many men, and desired of all the world: of all those I will only take but a hundred days work, which shall make proof of my moderation, and of your good affection: for small presents do continued long, but we are no long time owners of great riches. So then Thrasybulus contenting himself with this Crown, he sought for no more, and did think that no man was more honoured than he. Shortly after he being arrived in SICILIA with a fleet the which he commanded, his soldiers were not careful to keep good watch in his camp: upon which occasion, the barbarous people that were besieged, having by night made a sally out of the town upon him, they surprised him, and killed him in his tent.  
The end of Thrasybulus life.   

THE LIFE OF Conon.  
During the wars of PELOPONNESUS, Conon ATHENIAN began to deal in the affairs of the common wealth, and did great service: for he was chosen Colonel of the infantry, than Admiral, in which charge he did many goodly exploits. By means whereof he grew to be of singular reputation amongst all men, and had the government of all the Isles: during which time he wan PHARES a Colony of the LACEDÆMONIANS. Towards the end of the war of PELOPONNESUS, at what time Lysander overcame the army of the ATHENIANS upon the sea coast which they call the river of the Goat, he had then charge of certain galleys: howbeit he was not at the battle, which was cause that all came to nought, for he was a wise and valiant Captain: in so much that it was in every man's mouth, that if he had been there, the ATHENIANS had not sustained such a loss. He seeing things brought to so poor an estate, and understanding that his city was besieged: he sought not to hide himself to live I safety, but thought how he might help his citizens. For this purpose he went to Pharnabazus, a kinsman and son in law of the king of PERSIA, and governor of JONIA and of LYDIA, into whose favour he insinuated himself, but with great trouble and much danger. Now when the LACEDÆMONIANS, after they had subdued the ATHENIANS, in stead of maintaining the alliance made with Artaxerxes, had sent Agesilaus to make war in ASIA, through the persuasion of Tissaphernes, which had forsaken the king (of whom heretofore he was greatly beloved) and joined with the LACEDÆMONIANS: Pharnabazus was appointed Lieutenant general of the army of the PERSIANS' to make head against Agesilaus. But in truth Conon commanded all, and nothing was done without his advice and counsel. It was he that broke the most part of all the intentions and attempts of this great Captain Agesilaus, being a thing certain enough, that if Conon had not opposed himself, the LACEDÆMONIANS had taken all ASIA from the king, unto the mountain Taurus. Hereupon Agesilaus being sent for home by the ephors, because the BOEOTIANS and ATHENIANS had proclaimed war against SPARTA: Conon left not to be ever near to the Lieutenants of the king of PERSIA, and did them great service.  
Tissaphernes withdrew himself from the court of PERSIA, the which all men perceived well enough but the king, with whom he was in great credit and estimation, though he was no more his servant. And it is not to be marveled at if Artaxerxes could believe nothing, remembering himself that by Tissaphernes means he overcame his brother Cyrus. Conon being sent by Pharnabazus unto the king to accuse this Tissaphernes: he being come to the court, came first to the Captain of the guard, called Tithraustes, according to the custom of the PERSIANS'. He is chiefest of all the officers of the kingdom, and no man can be suffered to come near the king to speak with him, without his leave and licence. He being entreated by Conon to let him go unto the Prince: I am contented, saith he, but consider first if thou be determined to speak with him thyself, or to deliver thy mind by writing that thou wouldst say unto him. For if thou come to his presence, thou must kneel to the king: and if thou think that grievous unto thee, thou mayest execute thy commission by my means, as well as by thine own mouth. As for me, answered Conon, it shall be not troublesome thing to me, to do the king that honour that shall please thee: but I am afraid to do my city dishonour, if I do a thing proper to the barbarous people, & unfit for that city which was wont to command other nations. So then he delivered his message in writing: which when the king had seen, he was so moved with the report of so great a person, that he judged Tissaphernes his enemy, decreed war against the LACEDÆMONIANS, and suffered Conon to make choice of such a man as he would, to distribute the money necessary to defray the charge of this war. Conon made this answer, that this election pertained nothing to him, but to the king, that knew his servants best: yet in his opinion, this charge should be best bestowed upon Pharnabazus. He was sent back with great presents to the maritime towns, to command the CYPRIOTS, PHOENICIANS, and others dwelling upon this coast to put galleys in readiness, and to arm a fleet that might keep the seas the next Summer, under the conduct of Pharnabazus and of Conon, who had so required it.  
The LACEDÆMONIANS being advertised thereof, were amazed, perceiving well that they were to make another manner of war then with the barbarous people. For they saw that they must needs come to fight against a valiant and wise Captain, having the king's treasure in his hands, and that had as much & better direction and forces than they. With this thought they gathered together great store of shipping, & embarked themselves under the conduct of Pisander. Conon met with them near unto CNIDOS, gave them battle, made them fly, took store of galleys, and sunk a great number of them. By means of this victory, ATHENS and all GRECE subject to the dominion of the LACEDÆMONIANS, were set at liberty. Conon returned again to his country with part of these galleys, built up again the walls of ATHENS and of the haven of PIRAEA, which had been overthrown by Lysander, and presented his citizens with 30000 crowns which Pharnabazus had given him. But that which happeneth oftentimes unto other men, chanced also unto Conon, that is, to have less courage in prosperity, then in adversity. For now that he had overcome the fleet of the PELOPONNESIANS, thinking he had taken sufficient revenge of the wrongs received by his country: he began to embrace in his mind imaginations too high for his carriage: although this was good and commendable in his enterprise, that he had rather make his own country great and rich, than the king of PERSIA. Therefore he being now grown into wonderful credit, not only amongst the barbarous people, but also amongst all the cities of GRECE, after this battle of CNIDOS, he began underhand to practise the means to restore JONIA and AEOLIA to be subject again to the common wealth of the ATHENIANS. His practices being discovered, Tiribazus governor of SARDIS, sent to pray him to come to him, to be sent in embassage to the king. Conon strait obeying his commandment, he was no sooner arrived, but he was strait clapped up in prison, where he remained some time. Some writ that he was carried to the king, and died in PERSIA. But Dinon the historian, to whom we give great credit in that he treateth of the affairs of PERSIA, reporteth that Conon saved himself, leaving it in doubt whether Tiribazus was privy to it, or that he knew not of it.  
The end of Conon's life.   

THE LIFE OF Iphicrates.  
IPhicrates the ATHENIAN was famous, not so much for his diverse exploits or for the greatness of them, as for his military discipline: for he was such a Chieftain of war, that they compared him unto the bravest men of his time, and they did not set him behind any of those that had go before him. He had been in many wars, had commanded armies oftentimes, he never had misfortune by his own fault, he ever overcame by wisdom: his understanding reaching so far, that he brought in many good things never seen before in the art military: and made some of them better that were in use. He altered the arms of footmen: and where before him the Captains did use great targets, short partisans, and little swords: he to the contrary brought in light bucklers, to the end his men should be lighter to remove and to run to give charge. He made the partisans greater by half, and the swords longer. He changed also the corselets, and in stead of iron and copper, he made them of canvas well wrought together, which made the soldiers much lighter: for being eased of that weight, they had means to defend themselves nimbly against blows, and were ready beside to give charge upon the enemy. He made war with the THRACIANS, and re-established Seuthes again in his kingdom, an ally of the ATHENIANS. Being at CORINTH, he observed so good discipline in his army, that they never saw any soldiers in GRECE better disposed, nor more obedient to their Colonel then they were. To be short, he did use them to rank themselves so well in battle, without help of the Captain, so soon as ever the General had given them the sign to fight: that it seemed expressly as if the most expert Chieftain of war had imbattelled them.  
With such an army he assailed the LACEDÆMONIANS, which was a most famous act through all GRECE: and in this war he put all their forces to flight, which wan him great honour. And as Artaxerxes was ready to set upon the king of EGYPT, he demanded of the ATHENIANS Captain Iphicrates, to be the chief leader of all the stranger's troops, to the number of twelve thousand men. Whom he so well trained and disciplined, that as the FABIAN soldiers had been famous among the ROMANS', so in GRECE they spoke of none but of Iphicratian soldiers. Afterwards being go to aid the SPARTANS', he stayed Epaminondas roundly: and had not he come, the THEBANS would never have returned back before he had taken and burnt the city of SPARTA. He was a man of a stout heart, and of a high stature, having the port and countenance of a Sovereign captain, so that he made all men wonder at him that saw him: but he was slothful and impatient, as Theopompus saith, but otherwise a good and faithful citizen, whereof he made proof among others, especially in keeping Perdiccas and Philip the son of Amyntas MACEDONIAN safe. For Eurydice their mother coming with them for refuge unto Iphicrates, after the death of Amyntas: he spared no means of his own to defend them. He lived a long time, being in good credit with his citizens: saving that on a time during the wars of the allies he was criminally accused with Timotheus, howbeit he cleared himself, and was quit by judgement. His wife was Thressa, daughter of king Cotys: and of her he had a son called Menestheus: who being asked which he loved best, either his father, or his mother? My mother, said he. Whereat every man musing: Marvel not, answered he, I have reason to say so. For my father, as much as was in him, begat me a THRACIAN: and my mother to the contrary, she made me an ATHENIAN.  
The end of Iphicrates life.   

THE LIFE OF Chabrias.  
CHabrias was an ATHENIAN, and was placed in rank of excellent Captains. So hath he done many things worthy of memory. Among others, his stratagem he showed at the battle of THEBES is famous, where he was to aid the BOEOTIANS. For, that great Captain Agesilaus rejoicing because of his victory, and that he had made all the troops at the THEBANS pay run away: Chabrias stood still with them that were left of his battalion, teaching the soldiers to resist the charge of the enemies, casting down their pikes, and covering themselves with their bucklers upon one knee. Agesilaus moved with this novelty, durst not run in to them, and made them found the retreat, to keep his men they should pass no further. This act was so renowned through GRECE, that Chabrias caused a statue to be made of him in the state above mentioned, the which the ATHENIANS set up for him in the great market place. Afterwards the wrestlers, and other such kind of people followed this fashion of erection of statues, which they deserved for their victories. To come again to Chabrias, he made many wars in EUROPE, in the quality of General of the ATHENIANS, and went also of his voluntary will to make war in EGYPT, in the service of Nectanebos whom he did set again into his kingdom. He did the like in CYPRUS, whither the ATHENIANS sent him of purpose to help Euagoras, and would not departed thence, before he had first subdued all the Isle: for the which the ATHENIANS won great honour. In these businesses, war fell out betwixt the PERSIANS' and EGYPTIANS. They of ATHENS were allies of Artaxerxes, and the SPARTANS' took part with EGYPT. King Agesilaus did greatly invade the PERSIANS', and carried great booties away. Chabrias considering that, and giving no place to Agesilaus, went of his own head to aid the EGYPTIANS: who made him their Admiral, and gave the charge of the army by land unto Agesilaus. Than the Lieutenants of the king of PERSIA sent unto ATHENS, to complain that Chabrias made war with the EGYPTIANS against their king. The ATHENIANS sent for Chabrias immediately to appear in person, threatening him to condemn him to death, if he were not there by the day appointed. This message made him to come again to ATHENS, where he tarried no longer then needs he must. For the Citizens bore him no great goodwill, because he carried himself so stately, and would be so merry, that the people envied him. This vice reigneth commonly in those great and free towns, that glory is ever accompanied with envy: and they willingly speak ill of them whom they see to be great. And to be short, the poor cannot abide wealthy and rich men. Therefore Chabrias did absent himself out of the city as much as he could possible, and he was not alone in that, for almost all the chiefest of the city did the like: thinking themselves safe from the teeth of the envious, so long as they were far off from the sight of their citizens. Therefore Conon lived for the most part of his time in the Isle of CYPRUS, Iphicrates in THRACIA, Timotheus in LESBOS, Cares in SYGEEA. As for Cares, he was not to be likened in any respect unto the others, in exploits, nor in manner of life: and yet he was honoured in the city of ATHENS, and had great means.  
As for Chabrias, he died in the war of the allies in this manner. The ATHENIANS made war with the Islanders of CHIO, at what time Chabrias had no charge in the army by sea. Notwithstanding he had more authority than all the Captains: and the soldiers did esteem him more than any other of the commanders. That was cause of his death. For striving to enter the first into the haven, and commanding the Pilot to row right thither, it was his destruction: for being moored there within, the other ships followed him not. Whereupon the enemies compassed him in: but as he fought valiantly, his galley being beaten with the spur of another vessel began to leak, and to sink to the bottom. He seeing there was no way for him to escape, because the fleet of the ATHENIANS was too far off to receive him in, if he should have attempted to have swam: he had rather die then leave his arms, and forsake the galley which carried him. The others, they took another course, and saved themselves by strength of their arms. But he esteeming an honest death to be more excellent than a shameful life: fight very near, was killed by the enemies with darts.  
The end of Chabrias life.   

THE LIFE OF Timotheus.  
TImotheus the son of Conon, a Captain of ATHENS, did by many virtues amplify the glory received of his father. For he was an eloquent man, diligent, painful, expert in military discipline, and a great Politician. He hath executed great things, whereof the most notable are these, to wit: he subdued the OLYNTHIANS and BYZANTINES: he wan the city of SAMOS, the siege whereof in the former wars had stood the ATHENIANS in the sum of twelve hundred talents. He delivered it unto the people freely without any charge to them. He made war with king Cotys, and brought of the booty he had gotten there unto the Treasury, the like sum of twelve hundred talents. He also raised the siege that was before CYZICA, and went with Agesilaus to the aid of Ariobarzanes, of whom having received money, he had rather his citizens should buy towns and lands, then to carry it home to his lodging. Therefore he joined ERICTHONE and SESTOS to the signiory of ATHENS. Afterwards having charge of the army by sea, he invaded PELOPONNESUS, spoiled all the territory of SPARTA, and had all their ships in chase. He brought the CORCYREANS under the subjection of the ATHENIANS: and drew into their alliance the EPIROTS, ATHAMANES, and CHAONIANS, and all the people upon that sea coast. The which made the LACEDÆMONIANS leave their so long old quarrel, and of their own goodwills let the ATHENIANS have the principality of the sea: treating peace with these conditions, that the ATHENIANS should be Generals upon the sea.  
This victory did so please the ATHENIANS, that there was then first of all an altar built to the common peace, and they did ordain a pillow should be made for that goddess. Furthermore, that such a glorious act should remain for perpetuity, they raised up a statue unto Timotheus in the market place, by ordinance of the people, which was an honour that never man received before, to wit, that the people having granted a statue for the father, they should also give one to the son. By this means the statue of the son so freshly set up, renewed the memory of the father. Now Timotheus being very old, dealing no more in affairs of the commonwealth, they began afresh to torment the ATHENIANS of all sides. SAMOS and HELLESPONT shrunk back and revolted. Philip king of MACEDON, who began to wax great, plotted wonderful things in his head. Chares was sent against him to make head. But they thinking him not sufficient to repulse Philip, they therefore sent Menestheus the son of Iphicrates, son in law to Timotheus, and made him Colonel, gave him the charge of the affairs of the wars, having for his counsellors, his father, and father in law, brave Captains, wise and expert men to direct him with their counsel: their authority being so great, that every man hoped that all that was lost, should be recovered again by their means. They pointing for SAMOS, Chares that had heard news of it, sailed up and down that coast, to the end nothing should be done in his absence. Drawing near to the Isle a storm rose, and to defend themselves against it, the two old Captains struck sail, and hulled, going no further into the sea. Chares to the contrary upon a head, not respecting them that had seen more than he, held on his course, thinking to have found an occasion as he wished, and sent as well to Timotheus as to Iphicrates, that they should follow him. But having had evil success, and lost many of his ships, he fell back again to that very place from whence he came, & sent letters to the people of ATHENS of this effect, that he had easily taken SAMOS, if Timotheus and Iphicrates had not forsaken him at his need. Upon this accusation they were summoned to appear in person by this bold people, suspicious, unconstant, enemy and envious of another man's greatness, and are charged to be traitors unto the commonwealth. Timotheus was condemned, and a fine set upon his head of sixty thousand crowns. Iphicrates constrained by the importunity of his unthankful citizens, went for a time to CHALCIS. After Timotheus death, the people repenting their sentence, abated nine parts of the sum above named, and commanded Conon, the son of the deceased, to furnish six thousand crowns for the reparation of a pane of the wall. Here is to be noted a wonderful revolution of the affairs of this world: for the young son was constrained at his own charges (to the great dishonour of his house) to repair the walls, the which his grandfather Conon had made up with the booty gotten of the enemies. We could allege many examples of the modesty and wisdom of Timotheus: but we will add for the end a matter whereby may be easily conjectured, how much he was esteemed of the GREEKS'. Being young he was accused, and brought before the judge: whereupon his friends and familiars came out of all parts into ATHENS to defend him: and amongst others the tyrant jason, who was at that time the mightiest Lord of all GRECE. This tyrant was never assured in his own country without his guard: and yet he came without any train to ATHENS, esteeming so much his host Timotheus, that he had rather hazard his life, then fail his friend in time of necessity. Notwithstanding this, shortly after Timotheus made war with jason, by the commandment of the people: thinking that to obey his country, and to maintain the right of the same, is a more devout thing, then to favour a private friend. After this last age, which took away Iphicrates, Chabrias, and Timotheus, Captains of ATHENS: they could never found in the Commonwealth after their death, any Chieftain of war, that deserveth any memory of them.  
The end of Timotheus life.   

THE LIFE OF Datames.  
I Presently enter into the life of a most valiant and wise Captain, among all the barbarous: Hamilcar and Hannibal of CARTHAGE excepted. We will speak somewhat more amply of this man, for that the most part of his exploits are little known, & because also that he had obtained his victories not so much by force of arms, as by his wisdom: a virtue in the which he did surpass all the men of his time. But this cannot be judged, unless we make him known in all particulars. Datames the son of Camissares a CARIAN and of a SCHYTIAN, was at the beginning a soldier of the guard of the palace of Artaxerxes. His father Camissares, because of his valiantness and direction in the wars, and for that he had done many good services unto the king, was made Governor of CILICIA, near unto CAPPADOCIA, where the LEUCOSYRIANS devil. As for Datames, following the wars, he made proof of his valour in the war which Artaxerxes had against the CADUSIANS: where many men being slain on both sides, he fought so valiantly, that his father being killed, he had his authority and place of Governor of CILICIA. He showed himself no less valiant in war, than Antophradates did by the king's commandment unto those that had rebelled. For, by the direction of Datames, the enemies that were now entered into the PERSIANS' camp, were repulsed, and all the army of the kings in safety: the which was the cause of his calling and advancement unto higher charges. There was at that time in PAPHLAGONIA a Governor called Thyus, descended of an ancient race of one Pylaemenes, whom Homer saith, was killed by Patroclus in the war of TROIA. He not regarding the kings will and commandments, who therefore resolved to make war with him, and gave the charge of it unto Datames, cousin germane to Thyus. By reason of kindred, Datames would prove by all means he could to draw his kinsinan to some conformity before he took arms: he went unto him without any train, little thinking that his friend would have laid any ambush for him: but he had almost been taken tardy, for Thyus sought to surprise him, and to cut his throat. Datames mother, Aunt unto Thyus, being told what was practised against her son, she did advertise him in so good time, that he escaped with speed, and proclaimed war against his adversary. And although that in the pursuit of this war, he was forsaken of Ariobarzanes, Governor of LYDIA, of JONIA, and of all PHRYGIA, yet he let not to go further: he took Thyus prisoner with his wife and children, and then very carefully took order that no man but himself should carry news of it to the king. So following that purpose, without any man's privity he arrived at the Court, and the next morning appareled Thyus (a tall man and of a terrible grim look, being black haired, and wearing his hair long) with a rich rob, such as great Lords use to wear. He appareled himself like a country man, in a Lion tawny coat, with a cloak of diverse colours, and a hunter's hat, having in his right hand a club, and in his left hand a leace, unto the which Thyus was tied, who went before, as if he had led some savage beast he had taken in the chase a hunting. They all ran to see this new monster thus disguised: and those which knew Thyus went presently and told the king of it: who at the first would believe nothing, but sent Pharnabazus to see what it was. So when he had told him all what had happened, he made this pomp come in presently: and the king took great pleasure to see it, but specially to see so mighty a Prince beyond all hope so subdued.  
Therefore after he had given sumptuous presents unto Datames, he sent him unto the army that was levied under the conduct of Pharnabazus and Tithraustes, to make war in EGYPT, and ordained that he should have as much authority as they. Now after that the king had sent for Pharnabazus, all the charge of the wars was committed to Datames. Who being greatly occupied about levies of men to go into EGYPT, he received letters from the king, commanding him to invade a Lord called Aspis, who held CATAONIA, a province joining near to CAPPADOCIA, beyond CILICIA, a mountain country well furnished with fortresses, that despised the king, and made invasions upon the Provinces thereabouts, spoiling victuals and all things else that were carried to the king. Though Datames was far from that place, and had other affairs of greater importance in hand: yet he determined to obey the king, and suddenly embarked himself with a small number of resolute men, thinking (that which came to pass) that with a few men he should sooner surprise a man not dreaming of any such matter, then with a great army to go and assail him. He being arrived in CILICIA, landed, then marched day and night over mount Taurus, and came to the place where he would be: he inquireth for Aspis, and understandeth that he was not far off but a hunting. But as he stayed for his coming, Aspis knew that he was come, and immediately disposed of his PISIDIANS and others of his train to make head. Datames knowing this resolution, takes his arms, made his men march, and galloped to the place where Aspis was: who seeing him come with such a fury, he lost his courage to defend himself, and presently yielded. Datames made him to be bound, and sent him by Mithridates to the king. Hereupon Artaxerxes considering better what he had done, drawing his Lieutenant far from his army, to sand him in commission about a matter of less consequence, being angry with himself, sent a messenger to the camp, thinking Datames was not yet go from thence, to tell him that he should not go. But before this messenger came to the army, he met them by the way that brought Aspis. This so sudden execution wan Datames the king's good favour, but made him very much hated of the Courtiers, seeing one only man more made of then all the rest: which was the cause that they all joined together to destroy him.  
Pandates Treasurer of the spare, and Datames friend, did advertise him by express letters, that he stood in great danger, if any sinister fortune happened, whilst he should command the army in EGYPT: that it is the custom of kings to impute all misfortunes to their servants that chance in their affairs, and to attribute the good success unto themselves. And this makes them very easily incline to the extermination of them, of whom report is made; that they have not done that which was committed to their charge. And as for him, that he should so much more stand in fear, because that those which could do most with the king, were his greatest enemies. Datames having received these letters in his camp, and knowing that they carried truth with them: he resolved to forsake the king: which doing notwithstanding he committed no breach of his fidelity. For he left Androcles MAGNESIAN General of the army. And for himself he went with his men into CAPPADOCIA, afterwards he won PAPHLAGONIA which was hard by it, without showing himself either friend or enemy of the king. He secretly contracted friendship with Ariobarzanes, assembled forces, and gave the guard of the towns of war unto those he trusted best: but the winter did let him that his affairs went not forward. He understandeth that the PISIDIANS did levy some troops to set upon him: which caused him to sand his son Aridaeus before with an army. The young man being killed at an encounter, the father marched right thither with his men, hiding his grief as much as he could possible, because he desired to meet with his enemies, before those that followed him should hear of his loss, being afraid jest the news of the death of this young Lord should kill their hearts. So being come to the place where he pretended, he camped in such sort that the multitude of his enemies could not enclose him, nor keep him from coming to fight when he thought good. He brought with him Mithrobarzanes his father in law, who was Colonel of the horsemen. He perceiving the affairs of 
A fine stratagem.  his son in law in so poor an estate, forsook him to go yield himself to the enemies. Datames being told of it, judged that his soldiers if they once perceived that his father in law had forsaken him, they would also follow his example: wherefore to prevent all, he gave it out that Mithrobarzanes was go by his commandment, pretending to yield themselves to the enemies: to the end with more ease and advantage to cut them in pieces. And therefore that there was no reason to leave such a man so far from them, but they must needs follow him with speed. So that they standing to it lustily, the enemies could not resist, considering they should be charged within and without their camp. So having thought that the best way in the world, he marcheth into the field with his troops, and followeth Mithrobarzanes: who did but newly yield themselves to the enemies, when Datames appeared, who put out the signal of battle. The PISIDIANS troubled with this strange sight, did suspect that Mithrobarzanes and his would betray them, and that they were come of purpose to do them some mischief. Thereupon they vehemently gave charge upon these traitors, who not knowing what to think of such a charge, were constrained to fight against them, unto whom they had yielded themselves: and to return unto them whom they had forsaken. But the one and the other not knowing them any whit, in a short time these wicked men were cut in pieces. So withal Datames setteth upon the PISIDIANS who made head against him, passed through them, and broke them at the first charge: pursued them that fled, killed a great number of them, and was master of their camp. Note here how wisely (and all done at one time) he punished the traitors, and put his enemies to flight: turning that to good, which was devised for the overthrow of him and his. This is the most bravest and most speediest executed stratagem of a Chief in wars, that can be found in histories.  

The son betrayeth the father.  Notwithstanding that, this great person was forsaken of his eldest son Scismas, who went to the king to advertise him that his father was revolted. This troubled Artaxerxes greatly, knowing that he had to deal with a valiant and a wise Captain, who boldly did set upon any enterprise with discretion. Thereupon he sent Autophrodates into CAPPADOCIA, whom Datames took pains to go and meet, to prevent him that he should not win the strait of CILICIA. But being long assembling his forces, and that hope being frustrate, he chose with those few men that followed him such a place, that his enemies could not enclose him, nor pass, but that he should shut them up in very unwholesome places, nor hurt him when he liked to join in fight. Now though Autophradates understood somewhat of that, yet he made account that it was more expedient for him to join then to flee from the list, having so great forces. He had 20000 horse, and 100000 footmen, which they call GARDATES, with 3000 slings of the same name. Furthermore, he had 8000 CAPPADOCIANS, 10000 ARMENIANS, 5000 PAPHLAGONIANS, 10000 PHRYGIANS, 5000 LYDIANS, and about 3000 ASPENDIANS and PISIDIANS, 2000 CILICIANS, as many CAPTANIANS, and 3000 GREEKS in pay: besides a great number of men light armed. Against this world of forces, Datames could hope no more but in his direction, and in the commodity of the place where he camped: for he had not the twentieth part so many men. Yet trusting to himself, to the place, and to the valour of his men, he came to fight, and put to the sword many thousands of his enemies, having lost of his side but one thousand of his men. For this cause he set up the next day in the field a sign of triumph where the battle was fought. So being removed from thence, as he was the weaker in number of men, he to the contrary remained victor in all skirmishes and fights, and never came to hands, but he put his enemies to the worse: in the which he had oftentimes very good success, because he knew all the ways, and did wisely consider his affairs. Antophradates seeing the king lost more in these wars than he got, he persuaded Datames to fall to agreement, and to make his peace with the king. Though Datames had no great trust in that, yet he accepted the condition, and said he would sand ambassadors unto Artaxerxes. And thus the war of the king ended against Datames. And for Antophradates, he retired into PHRYGIA.  
But the king being vexed ●o the heart against Datames, considering that he could not prevail against him by arms, sought to make him away by treason. Datames looked warily to his ways, and avoided many ambushes. As on a time, having understanding that some pretending to be his friends, had laid a plot for him: although his enemies had given him intelligence of it, yet he thought that as it was not a thing lightly to be believed, so was it not altogether to be discredited: whereupon he resolved to try whether it was a true or false report brought him. Therefore he set forward to the place where it was told him this ambush was laid: but he chose amongst his men one that was of his height, he gave him his furniture, and made him march in the rank which he was wont to hold. He on the other side appareled like a soldier, went with the archers of the guard. Those which lay in ambush deceived by the order and furniture, assoon as they saw their time, they began to set upon the supposed Datames. But the right Datames had warned them before with whom he marched, to be ready to do all as he did. He seeing then these traitors running, he threw darts at them, and so did all those that were in his company, so that the other fell to the ground, before they could come near him whom they would surprise. Now notwithstanding all this, this so wary and subtle Captain was in the end betrayed by the deceit of Mithridates 
Mithridates' stratagem against Datames.  the son of Ariobarzanes, who promised the king to do the deed, so that he would afterwards suffer him to do what he thought good, without being called in question any manner of way. The king consented unto it, and gave his hand upon it after the custom of the PERSIANS', to make him more assured. Mithridates' having the king's word, made show to be sworn enemy 
The manner of Mithridates 〈…〉.  unto Artaxerxes, he gathereth troops together, and by means treateth friendship with Datames, he entereth with a main army into the king's country, besiegeth and taketh fortresses, carrieth away great booty, he giveth part of it to his soldiers, he sendeth the rest unto Datames, and delivereth many fortresses and holds into his hands. So having continued his course a reasonable time, Datames began wholly to believe that Mithridates had undertaken a war which he would never leave, and this traitor gave him great occasions to think so. For fearing jest Datames would mistrust some ambush, he sought not to speak with him, nor went about to meet together: but without interview he entertained his alliance so finely, that these two men seemed both one, not so much for mutual benefit, as for a common hatred conceived against the king. When he saw his snare well laid, he wrote to Datames that time required they should assemble greater forces to make war against the king: and if he thought good, he would appoint a place where they might one see another, and confer together. Datames found this advice good, and 
Tim & place appointed for interview other.  so they appointed a day to meet together, and place where they might speak personally one with the other. Some days before Mithridates came to the place, seconded with another in whom he put great trust: he hide poigniards separated in diverse places, and did carefully mark the places where they were laid. The day being come of their talking together, both of them sent men to discover the place, and to search one the other, because they should be without weapons. That being done, they enter into talk, and after they had spoken some time together, they departed: so that Datames was go a good way off. And as for Mithridates, before he went to his men (to give no occasion of ill thought) he cometh to the same place again where they had spoken together, and sat him down in a place where there was a poigniard hidden, feigning to be weary, and to refresh himself a little. Than he sent for Datames under colour that he had forgotten to tell him some thing. In the mean time he took the poigniard out of the place where it was hidden, drew it, and put it naked under his rob. And seeing Datames, told him they must go a little aside, and that he had discovered a place directly over against them very fit to camp in. 
Datames traitorously murdered by Mithridates.  He began to show him the place with his finger: and as Datames turned to see what it was, this traitor stabbed him with his poigniard, and made an end of kill of him before any of his men could come to help him. See here how through pretence of friendship he was surprised, who had entrapped so many others by his valiant direction, but none by treason.  
The end of the life of Datames.   

THE LIFE OF Hamilcar.  
HAmilcar the son of Hannibal, surnamed Barcas, a CARTHAGINIAN Captain. being very young began to command an army that was in SICILIA, in the end of the first war of AFRICA. Before his coming thither the CARTHAGINIANS had very ill success both by sea and land: but so soon as he led the army, he never gave place to the enemy, and gave him no advantage to hurt him. But to the contrary he found many an occasion to draw them to fight, wherein he had the vantage. Which being done, although the CARTHAGINIANS had well-neare lost all that they held in SICILIA, yet he kept the city of ERIX so well, as it seemed that there had never been war made in that quarter. In the mean time the CARTHAGINIANS having lost a battle at the sea near unto the Isles AEGATES, against Catulus Luctatius a ROMAN Consul: they determined to leave arms, and gave all the charge unto Hamilcar to treat of peace. For his part he desired nothing but war: yet seeing his town in want of money and means, and in danger to sink under their burden, he concluded that they must make peace. Yet so notwithstanding he resolved with himself, that as soon as all matters were pacified, he would make war again, and set upon the ROMANS', either to make them Lords of all, or else to compel them to be subject. With this mind he entered into parley of peace, where he showed himself so stout: that as Catulus declared he would agreed to nothing, before Hamilcar and his soldiers which had kept ERIX had laid down their arms, and were go out of SICILIA, he made answer that he would rather dye in the ruins of his country, then to return home with such shame: and that honour would not suffer him to yield up his arms to his enemies, which his country had put into his hands to be employed against them. Catulus let him go with this obstinate resolution.  
But when Hamilcar was arrived at CARTHAGE, he saw matters go far otherwise then he hoped for. For during the long wars against the enemies abroad, there was mischief sprung up among them within: which went on so fiercely, that GARTHAGE was never in so great danger but when it was altogether destroyed. First of all, the mercenary soldiers that had been in the wars against the ROMAIMES, to the number of 20000 they rebelled, they made all AFRIQUE rise, and they besieged CARTHAGE. The CARTHAGINIANS being greatly afraid of so many evils, they demanded aid of the ROMANS', which they granted. But in the end, when all was thought to be in a desperate case, they chose Hamilcar their Captain general: who did not only drive the enemies far from the town, which were in number above a 100000 fight men: but he did also shut them up in such straits, that the most part of them died of famine, and the rest were slain. Furthermore, he brought the cities which had revolted, under the obedience again of CARTHAGE, and amongst others UTICA, and HIPPONA, two of the strongest cities of AFRICA. But not staying there, he extended the limits of the signiory of CARTHAGE, and pacified all AFRIQUE in such sort, that it seemed there had been no war of long time.  
Now having done all things according to his mind, he bearing ill will to the ROMANS', and hoping to be revenged: to found a more easy way to daw them to war, he practised so well that he was chosen General, and they sent him with an army into SPAIN, whither he carried with him his son Hannibal nine years old, and another fair young gentleman called hasdrubal, whom many judged to be loved of Hamilcar otherwise then was fit for honest men. For there were many always that could not contain themselves from speaking evil of this great Captain. Which was the cause that the governor of hasdrubal did forbidden him to come no more to Hamilcar, who afterwards gave him his daughter in marriage, so that they began again to meet together. For by the custom of the country they could not forbidden a son in law, to frequent with his father in law. We have made mention of hasdrubal, because that after Hamilcar was slain, he was made chief of the army, which did great exploits under his conduct. But so he was the first, that by presents and gifts corrupted the ancient manners of the CARTHAGINIANS. After his death, Hannibal had the charge of the army, with the consent of all the men of war. As for Hamilcar, he having passed the sea, entered into SPAIN, and did great things there with good success. He subdued many warlike nations, enriched all AFRIQUE with horses, with arms, with men, and with money. As he had thought to have transported the war from thence into ITALY, nine years after his coming into SPAIN: he was slain in a battle against the VECTONS. The deadly hate he bore unto the ROMANS', seemeth to have kindled the second war with AFRICA. For his son Hannibal was brought to this pass, by the continual adjurations of his father: that he had rather destroy himself, then to fail his help against the ROMANS'.  
The end of Hamilcars' life.