THE Courtier's Academy: Comprehending seven several days discourses: wherein be discussed, seven noble and important arguments, worthy by all Gentlemen to be perused.  

1 Of Beauty.  
2 Of human love.  
3 Of Honour.  
4 Of Combat and single fight.  
5 Of Nobility.  
6 Of Riches.  
7 Of precedence of Letters or Arms   
Originally written in Italian by Count Hannibal Romei, a Gentleman of Ferrara, and translated into English by I. K.  L'occhio Lincio, há l'intendimento cieco 
Printed by Valentine Sims.   

To the Right Honourable and Chivalrous Knight, Sir Charles Blunt, Lord Mountioy, Knight of the most honourable order of the Garter, and Captain of her majesties Seafortresse, and town of Portsmouth, I. K. wisheth the accomplishment of all perfect honour and felicity.  
I Think it no ways requisite (right Honourable) to prosecute that overworn method of exaltation consisting in an unsavoury inculcation of their honour and praise, whose glory by the shrill Trumpet of Fame, in every corner resounded by a blubbering and unpolished pen, is both extenuated, it offering further no small offence, to the modesty of that Noble ear or eye which vouchsafeth either the hearing or perusing of the same. These worthy discourses written by no unworthy Gentleman in Italian, grounded on the firm foundations of Aristotelian, and Platonical discipline, and yet accompanied with a lively touch and feeling of these times, I thought no less worthy to be offered to the view and censure, of noble and courteous constructions. Seeing some understand not Italian at all, others pretend, beyond their knowledge, and those exquisite therein, do yet many times meet with such ambiguities, as not willing to contend too laboriously in that, which they only retain for an ornament, give no small impediment to the beneficial impression, of the subject they read and meditate upon. And in that the first Author supposeth these discussions to have fallen out in the Court of Ferrara, and in the noble assemblies of divers Ladies & knights, covertly herein expressing an excellent form of Courtlike exercise: I have presumed to entitle it, The Courtier's Academy. The only interpretation of them, may in a man of my obscure humility be deemed a singular presumption, except your honourable and gracious patronage both protect them, as also me their unperfect translator. What defects soever in the same appear, proceeding either from myself or others, may graciously be sheltered under the noble wings of your wonted clemency, to whose Lo. of my first labours, I have over-presumptuously offered dedication, no less vowing unto the same, the propagation of all my future and faithful endeavours.  
Your Lordship's humble and thrice dutiful poor affectionate,   

To the courteous and benevolent Reader.  
BEsides many defects, the which acknowledging in myself (courteous Reader) crave thy benign and favourable construction, there may be also some imperfections, which either coming short, of the singularity of these times, or lightning on the view of malignant eyes, may, besides a general depravation for the most part incident to all men's labours, turn me further to some bitter, and particular reprehension. Translation therefore in general by some vain pretendants, in tongues, and languages, hath been thought altogether a thing, not only unnecessary, but further prejudicial, the chiefest reason leading them thereunto, being this, as I suppose, that knowledge being an ornament, most befitting those noble or honourable, who command ignorance agreeing best with the vulgar sort, who be subject and obey: it is therefore requisite (say they) that high wisdom, and excellent works, should be concealed from common sight, lest they through equal experience, and knowledge in things (according to the ordinary condition thereof) puffed up, shake off likewise that humility of spirit, which should comprehend them under the obedience of laws and magistrates. Neither in my opinion, for some arguments in books discussed of, do they greatly mistake, when this their opinion shall be grounded upon so sound a consideration, rather than on a vain ostentation in, themselves whereby they would willingly retain, some colour of excellency, by reserving unto themselves in a restrained tongue, that which peradventure therein they do not absolutely understand, or which howsoever by publication, may be an occasion of general document, and instruction to all men: To leave comparison of writers and whether strangers or ourselves have therein attained to greatest excellency and judgement: observe the civilest amongst christian nations who perceiving (no doubt) the instability of men in all arts and professions, proceeding from the Chaos of opinions, grounded on the conceits of particular men, thought good by this mean to reduce them to some review of foundations and therefore we seethem to have infinitely traveled in the translation of Plato Aristotle Plutarch, and divers other ancient writers into their vulgar tongues: as they themselves when they writ, made choice of their own mother languages: and we see daily that managed horses yield sooner to the bit of a disereet rider, then rough, and unsaddled colts: and people well instructed, know best howsweet a thing it is to live under government.  
In a grown storm of heavy misfortune, it was my hap, to put in with the harbour of a worthy gentleman's house, where amongst sundry other relaxations for a distressed mind, a multitude of good, and commendable writers in the best languages was not the least, & coming to peruse these discourses, (although of too high a tenor for my humble fortune) partly by persuasion, as likewise, in that I could not call to mind any so important book, touching these subjects in the English tongue, I attempted this homely, & unworthy interpretation of them, wherein if I have presumed any thing, either above my own conceit, or the good opinion of others, impute it to the special desire I had, that all men honourable, either by birth, or instruction, might be partakers of so necessary & excellent discussions, always craving pardon, of whatsoever defacement they endure, by my unperfect and mother explication: whatsoever Poesy you herein meet withal (as with some you shall) it being rather accidental, than any ways by the noble author at the first intended, you may the more graciously wink at my defects therein, as one, whom the oppression of fortune hath denied that serenity of mind, from whence (for the most part) that pleasant fury hath his derivation, I have therefore contended, only with bare rithming desinence void of all ornament, to express the meaning of such poetical citations as the author useth, they being ordinarily alleged out of Petrarch whose verse in my opinion, even in Italian, is rather weighty or sententious than heroical. And therefore I remember I have seen some of the same verses in this book cited, by a good approved Laureate translated into English, the which, though they retained the pith and substance, of the first author, yet (excepting always better judgements than my own) they came very short of that lofty and abundant profluence, with which many of our modern Poems are accompanied: considering withal, how too laboured a transformation of words and sense, might have offered my first author capital injury, seeing he setteth them down but as authorities wherein matter, more than words is to be required: No less doubt I also of reprehension, for some words I have used beyond common use, propriety leading me thereto, rather than any affectation which consisteth not in so tolerable and commendable liberty, but rather in a frivolous accumulation of words unnecessarily produced in dilating of any argument: yet if any may lay up in this our common treasury of language, any choice ornaments, for the decorum & copy of our tongue. I know not who may better then they, conversant in foreign writers, seeing besides a laudable emulation of others abundance, even very necessity in explication, inviteth them thereunto: and therefore for want of better terms I have been driven to use some forged words, as spiritally, virtually, armiger, and other, which otherwise I could not well tell how to have expressed. Another thing there is, the meditation whereof maketh my ears to glow, with an imaginative overhearing of some bitter taxation: especially it consisting in that discourse, whereof the least expectation will not be had: for in the mean this author setteth down for reducement of quarrels to peace, he hath prescribed a certain form of words, which no doubt to many will seem ridiculous, as, savouring too much of fear, and pusillanimity, which severe censure notwithstanding in my judgement, may deserve mitigation, if not in respect of the dangerous abuse of arms in these times: at least yet in calling to mind, what in the former discourses hath been enjoined every honourable man, upon the instant of receiving an injury, to perform: the which once passed, this voluntary, and kind accord, is not to spring from themselves, but rather from some other, who shall offer themselves to such virtuous solicitations, when it willbe requisite (as he himself saith) to so good an end, to use all commendable fallation, and by words of equivalent, and plausible signification to cover offences, preventing by this means so many lamentable effects, as too ordinarily ensue, upon inveterate, and prosecuted quarrels: These be not all, but the principallest occasions (as I sùppose) which detraction in this my labour will take hold of: the which notwithstanding courteous, and judicial understanders will so graciously pass over, as that there is no doubt but for all this, they will find themselves well satisfied by Patritio, in the explanation of true, essential, and sensible Beauty in human Love by Guirino, in Honour, Combat, and fight for reputation by Gualinguo: in Nobility by Varano: in riches by Taslone, and last of all, in that high and worthy controversy touching precedence of Letters or Arms, after resolute conflict, beeween Patritio, and Brancaccio noble champions for each party, the deep, and judicial doom of gracious Madam de Sala, will determine herein all scruple, and attribute due right, and desert: And therefore as this worthy circumstance of justice, shineth like a bright beam in every noble, or liberal mind, so do I hope also for my labour, to reap courteous and favourable construction, not only of my own imperfections, but even of those also that necessarily depend on the error of impression, & if my poor battered name light into the fatal hands of malicious Impostors or odious scoffers: di buffoni mi beffo: and as it was said of that miserable jacobine: C'est l'enfer, que les á crées.  
To be commanded. I. K.   

The first days Discourse of Count Hannibal Romei, a Gentleman of Ferrara.  
In which the Ladies and Gentlemen reasoning together, do discuss, of Beauty.  
THat most renowned Lord Don Alfonso d'Este, the second of this name, and through our happy fortune, at this instant Duke of Ferrara, liveth with so great magnificence, that his highness court seemeth rather a kingly and Royal Palace, than the court of a great Duke: for it is not only throughout replenished with noble Lords and valiant Knights, but further, is a receptacle for the most learned and gentle spirits, as likewise for men that in every profession are most excellent. This Prince (out of question) in all his actions very respective, tempereth so his affairs with leisure, and with so great order measureth & dispenseth the time, that neither doth he weaken himself with the over-burdensome meditation of matters serious, or languish and wear away with the too great levity of things delightsome and pleasant. And therefore his highness hath allotted to every season his proper and particular entertainment, as to the Carnivale time or shrovetide, masking, justs, Turvey, feasts, Comedies, music, and other such like contentments, the which with such peace and tranquillity are embraced, as it is a wonder in that time to behold the general exhilleration and jubilee of our City. In the Spring time they hunt the Fox and sly their Falcons in the great Barco, which environeth the north quarter of the City, where in certain standing waters and martish grounds, they find many wild ducks, for the flight of the River. And there be certain houses called Sgarzare, wherein Herons be enclosed and kept, being a most pleasant sight to behold his highness, when with his court, he entereth into that large Meadow, accompanied by the nobility of the City, mounted on goodly horses, and followed by the most excellent Duchess, with all the Ladies and Matrons of the noblest sort, riding in most sumptuous Coaches: where after they have flown at the river, they approach the Sgazare, and let fly the Heron, who no sooner mounteth, but incontinently they cast off the Falcon, who maketh after: and thus with singular solace they stand beholding this battle in the air, made by these two most hot and cruel fowls. Then in the ardent heat of summer, his highness with the famous Duchess and the whole court, retire themselves to Belriguardo, being questionless a royal Palace, wherein are to be seen as many rooms, as there be days in the year, with chambers, galleries, and hals so great, as therein men may conveniently play at balloon. There are also most beautiful gardens, abounding with all manner of fruit, watered from the River of Poe, by conveyances, which by his highness with wonderful art, were thither conducted, which near the said Palace cause certain mills to grind, with a fair and ample fishpond, where there is always found great store of fish: and the water in this pond being most clear, it serveth very conveniently to swim in, being as it were continually shadowed by very high popplar trees, which do environ it. While his highness remaineth in this Palace, he keepeth open Court, so that the Gentlemen and Gentlewomen of the City, are always coming and going: as furthermore, all such are there lodged, that come for audience, and to negotiate with his highness, near whom ever the Counsellors and secretaries are resident. Here the hottest part of the day is passed over with delectable entertainment: when towards the evening his highness with the Duchess, Ladies, and Gentlemen (being a most excellent sight) goeth to fly the Sparrehawke) killing abundance of Pheasant and Partridge, where of in those fields there is store and plenty. In the end of Autumn, his highness, the Lady Duchess, and all the court, with other gentlemen and gentlewomen of the City, goeth to the sea side, where among other delightsome habitations, near to Port Goro, in a park called the Mesola, he hath built a sumptuous palace, the which park his Highness certainly with heroical expense, hath compassed with a wall, which is twelve miles in circuit, with four gates, placed according to the four quarters of the heavens, the which are kept shut, that the beasts may not go out, being likewise to open, as occasion requireth. Herein interchangeably they take divers delights, sometime fishing in the sea by draft, and otherwhiles in hunting, and at all these pastimes the excellent Duchess is ever present with all the dames and matrons, who with great contentment take pleasure in the cliase. For the huntsinen enter with their dogs into the wood, and forcibly procure the wild beasts to issue forth into certain large open places made for the purpose, where there be dogs placed for the nonce, and Gentlemen, some on foot with long broochs, others on horse back, with spears and javelins: and thus with notable agility, they kill boars, hearts, and other, beasts, so that we may truly say, that in the world there is not a Prince enjoyeth more excellent chase, or commodious fishing then here is. Afterwards in the evening the Court returned to the palace; while supper, the time is spent in many pleasant entertainments: Wherefore his Highness, according to his wont, being the last year towards the end of Autumn in the said place, and the most famous Duchess, accompanied with thrice noble Gentlemen, and gracious Dames, amongst whom was the honourable Lady Countess of Sala, the two right illustrious and most beautiful sisters, the Lady D. Marfisa, and Bradamante; the Lady Leonora Tieni Covotesse of Scandiano; the Lady Isabel Bentivoglia marquess of Galtieri; the Lady Camilla Costabili, the Lady Lucretia Calcagnina; the Lady Victoria Tassona; the Lady Camilla Bevelacqua; the Lady Lucretia Machiavella; the Lady Camilla Mosti; the Lady Anne Strozza; the Lady Tarquinia Molza; the Lady Leonora Sacrati, with other Ladies and Matrons of account, besides the Gentlewomen of the renowned Duchess. When his highness desirous to go down to the sea side, to procure the nets to be drawn, he made it known to the Gentlemen and Gentlewomen, that while they were abroad, his mind was, that every one might lawfully betake himself to that contentment, which was to him most acceptable. Whereupon one part of the Gentlemen, the Lady D. Marfisa and Bradamante, and other Gentlewomen of the Court, accompanied his Highness, and the Duchess to the sea side: but the greater part, especially of women, unto whom the sea wind in the end of Autumn was not pleasing, went to the Palace, to the end that with some delightsome entertainment, they might pass the time till the return of his Highness. The Countess of Sala for her quiet, had retired herself into her lodging apart, unto whom all the Gentlemen and Ladies resorted, to manifest unto her their favour and good will, as also to be partakers of her most gracious conversation. The Lady Countess therefore, seeing so fair and honourable an assembly in her chamber, as she that is the inventrice of fresh and honest contentments, me thinks said she smiling, that soldiers can hardly keep their ranks without an head, and therefore, I would advise, so it be pleasing to you Lords and Ladies, that by lot we choose out amongst ourselves (to avoid envy) who ought to command, and that her empire may continue till the return of his Highness. This motion by the Countess propounded, was of all the whole company commended. The lot fell to the Lady Countess of Scandiano, and with great joy she was crowned with a garland of Laurel leaves. This virtuous Lady the Queen, peradventure of more than one heart, considering that in this noble concourse, there were the most learned and flourishing wits of all the Court, desirous to hear them discourse of some matter that might be contenting, and acceptable to the whole company, spoke thus: Amongst all the things which administer delight and wonder, it seemeth Beauty holdeth the chiefest place, the which is so much the more admirable, in that she by few being perfectly known, is notwithstanding by every one beloved, which thing I with myself having oftentimes considered, it maketh me enter into a singular desire to understand, what manner of thing this is, which we term Beauty; whether truly she be to be found in the world, or that we forge such a matter, in our fantasy, perceiving every day, by experience, that what to one seemeth deformed, to another appeareth beautiful. Seeing therefore a favourable star and gentle fortune have exalted me to so great Empire, and that I may command over the divinest wits, I determine to satisfy my honest desire: I enjoin you therefore signor Francisco Patritio, under pain of the loss of my favour, (the which hitherto I have vouchsafed you) to discourse upon Beauty, endeavouring in the best manner you can to give me satisfaction.  
This signor Patritio is a Gentleman of Dalmatia, a man very learned, but especially in Platonical philosophy, who having been a little buffeted by Fortune, in the end retiring himself into the sanctuary of men literate (for so is the court of this Prince) he was with honourable regard, by his Highness embraced. Rising up therefore, and making reverence: This courtesy of your Majesty, thrice famous Queen (said he) hath been great and singular, having before any desert on my part vouchsafed me so great a reward, as to be made worthy of your majesties favour. And whatso grievous punishment can be imagined, that to the loss of this, may be compared; but as with so gracious a gift I remain comforted, so upon some further consideration, I find myself altogether perplexed & doubtful, because in obeying your commandment, I am sure not to satisfy your desire, knowing my own insufficiency to entreat of so high a subject, as is Beauty: and by disobedience I should incur the penalty set down, the which I much more fear than death itself. To ovoyde therefore so grievous punishment, I will make no doubt to expose myself to so great an enterprise, hoping, that as those blessed intelligences, in their spheres, illuminations and motion, infuse that, whereof the beautiful offspring of Nature in this inferior world is derived, so that these resplendent intelligences which are here placed so near our hearts, reverberating upon me their most glittering beams will kindle light, and stir up motion in my obscure and dull understanding: from whence conceits and words may spring, apt not only to discover that participated of, but even essential and true beauty. Notwithstanding we (most famous Queen) having Beauty before our eyes, leaving the first demand, pertaining only to the blind, and searching out what thing this is which we call Beauty, I will affirm, that it is no other but a most precious quality, which shineth in the universal frame, growing from proportions or colours, or from the one and the other, together, brought forth by the chief Creator, to no other end, but with wonder and delight, to kindle love in those minds, which can comprehend it. Desiring therefore to make known, that this my definition is perfect, and under it that all things else be comprehended, it is necessary, that discoursing somewhat more deeply, I do show the proper and particular beauty of all those things, which in the universal frame of this world are of beauty capable. I say then, that as this great work which we call the world, is known by sense, and by understanding conceived, so is it druided into two parts, the one of which we term the sensible, and tother the intelligible world: the sensible world hath two parts one subject to vicissitudal generation and corruption, & it is this world which we enjoy, being so dear to us, the other is the celestial world, subject to no other transmutation, but only local motion: the corruptible world is contrived of the four Elements, Earth, Water, Air, and Fire, as likewise of all things mixed: whereof some be perfect, and others unperfect, and of the perfect some be living, othersome without life: of living things, some have only the soul vegetative, others have vegetation, and sense: and and the third sórt enjoy both vegetation, sense, and also reason. Imperfect mixtions, so called, because they want little of being simple, are the vapours, whereof all those imperfect mixtions are generate in which moisture beareth sway, as dew, frost, mists, clouds, rain, snow, tempests, and such like; and exhalation the mother of all such things, in which heat and dryness prevail, as are lightnings, thunders, thunderbolts, winds, falling stars, comets, and other like impressions, which are engendered in the highest region of the air; the perfect mixtions without life, are stones, precious gems, and minerals: living things, tetaining vegetation, are plants, herbs, and all sorts of fruits: living things having both vegetation & sense, be unreasonable creatures, of which some be imperfect, others perfect; the imperfect be those which have no other sense, but feeling and imagination confused: and therefore they living half a life, are recounted between plants and living creatures, as oysters, muscles, sponges, and other such like creatures, fastening unto stones: creatures perfect be all the other sort, whether they be beasts on the earth, fish of the sea, or fowls of the air; the living creature possessed with a soul vegetative, sensible, and teasovable is only man. The celestial world, although it be all of one self same substance, and that it seemeth at the first sight one heaven alone, yet notwithstanding by divers motions we learn, that it is distributed into ten spheres: the first of which ascending upward, is the sphere of the moon, the second of Mercury, the third of Venus, the fourth of the Sun, the fift of Mars, the sixth of jupiter, the seventh of Saturn, the eight of the starry firmament, the ninth and tenth, the one of which (if the position of Astrologers be true) giveth motion trepedative, and the other motion diurnal, called therefore the first mover. The intelligible world is comprehended by many and divers orders of blessed souls and spirits, the lowest of which is man's soul, and after that ensueth the not erring intelligence, called the soul of the world and Nature, for the three effects, she produceth in this universal frame, for in as much as she giveth life & preserveth the world, she is termed the soul of the world, and in that she imprinteth into matter with the seal of divinity, all forms generative and corruptible, she is called nature: lastly because she directeth every thing deprived of understanding, to their end, she is termed intelligence never erring. This is she (most famous Queen) that procureth the birds with so great industry to build their nests, she imprinteth natural desire of generation in all creatures, and contemning their own proper commodity, with great care and labour to bring up their young. She maketh the Bee and Ant to provide in summer, for the future wants of winter, and to conclude, it is she that is always intentive to the good of the whole world. The Angelical spirits follow, being the most noble ornaments of the celestial spheres, divided into many Hierarchies: the first of which wholly inflamed with divine love, is that of the Seraphins, the second of the Cherubins, all replenished with incomprehensible knowledge, in the third be the thrones faithful secretaries of the celestial mind: then follow Dominations, Powers, Principalities, the Angels and Archangels: above whom sitteth as perfect, the first understanding, being the most excellent & great God, who immovable, draweth and conjoineth all the other understandings, as of them be loved & desired, to himself. As this univetsall work is divided into two parts, the one corporeal and sensible, the other incorporeal and intelligible, so be there two beauties, the one sensible, the other intelligible. But in that the beginning of all our knowledge, is derived from sense, we will first entreat of Beauty sensible: the which is no other but that most gracious quality, which shineth in bodies sensible, springing from proportion or colours or together both from the one & other, which administering delight, produceth love in those minds that can comprehend it. And because bodies sensible are of two sorts, that is, simple, as the heaven and four elements be, or compounded as albodies mixed are, we must observe, that of all bodies simple, Heaven only may be termed beautiful, for the elements being incapable of proportion, light & colours, they cannot properly be called beautiful. Leaving them therefore apart with the mixed bodies, that come not much short of being elements, we will affirm, that sensible beauty only in heaven, and bodies perfectly compounded is comprehended, which notwithstanding is not all one, but as compounded bodies be divers, so are there beauties distinct and different: in that some are compounded of like parts as stones, precious gems and minerals, others of parts unlike, and in themselves dissenting, as plants, and living creatures. We will then aver, that both the beauty of heaven, and of compounded bodies of parts unlike consisteth only in colours, for though the beauty of things compounded of parts different, consisteth in proportion and colours; yet of some the beauty consisteth principally in colours, as likewise of othersome in proportion. The beauty therefore wherewith heaven is adorned, is no other but his most bright end shining colour, which doth not only make heaven beautiful, but further, is an occasion, that all other sensible beauty is fair and apparent. The beauty of stones consisteth in their colours, as of marble, porphery, alabaster, and such like. That of the diamond in his white and excellent colour, like to the stars, as also the beauty of the ruby is in his red and clear colour. The beauty of minerals also consisteth in colours; for gold in colour like to the Sun, receiveth his brightness; and silver in whiteness resembleth the Moon, and so all other metals by their proper colours are esteemed fair and beautiful. Plants have their beauty in proportion, and colours; but more specially in proportion. That of herbs and flowers, consisteth rather in colour than proportion: but the beauty of creatures irrational, is placed principally in the proportion and correspondency, that the parts between themselves, have with the whole, and far less depending on colour. Man's beauty consisteth in proportion, and in splendour of his proper and well placed colours: But in that I reserve the discussion of human Beauty, to the end of this my discourse, we will now leave it. And that no Beauty may remain untouched, before we pass over to the Beauty of the world intelligible, we will speak somewhat of artificial Beauty, seeing things artificial also are termed beautiful: and amongst those artificial, I place Poesy, and Speech or Oration, the one being governed by Art Poetical, the other by the Art of Rhetoric. And as we find quantity both in the one and other, so in them both proportion, and colours Poetical and rhetorical are comprehended; yet these are not known by sense, but by the mind and understanding, wherefore the beauty of Poesy and Oration, aught to be called an artificial intelligible Beauty, differing from other beauties artificial, which by the sense of seeing only are comprehended. The beauty therefore of things artificial, being as it were the image of those natural, consisteth as well in colour as proportion; yet in some we consider only proportion, as in statues, buildings and other like, which proceed from manual Arts, in which there is little reckoning made of colours. In some other things the beauty remaineth in colour; and these be such as depend on the Art of Weaving, as clothes of silk, wool, linen, and such like. The beauty of plants is respected both in one and other, that is, in proportion and colours: And let this spoken, be sufficient for Beauty artificial.  
Now passing over to that Beauty which only with the eyes of the soul is comprehended (being Beauty intelligible) beginning from the lowest, and is that which is found in the soul of man. I say, that as the Beauty of human body (as we will show) is placed principally in the superior part, which regardeth heavenly light; so the Beauty of man's soul is found in the more eminent part of the same, the which is exposed to divine light. This is called understanding, by which our soul conceiveth and knoweth, not only the being of things corporeal & sensible, but also by mean of things visible, raiseth itself to the knowledge of those invisible, so that as we observe the soul of man to be compounded of parts and divers parcels, so the same soul from the consent of parts and colours, receiveth his excellency: colours are no other but intelligible kinds, placed in the understanding, which with colours have the like similitude, as the visible colours themselves, and these may be termed intelligible; for as colours are not actually visible, neither can their beauty by bodily eye be seen, if first that eye, and those colours, be not by some light, and especially by the light of the first visible (which is the Sun illuminated, so the forms and intelligible kinds of our understanding (which is the eye of the soul) cannot be comprehended, if first that understanding and those intelligibles, be not by the light of superior understanding cleared and illumined. These intelligibles, which placed in understanding, do make it absolutely perfect and beautiful, be of two sorts: some be intelligibles of truth, others intelligibles of good: those of good be decking our souls with prudence, fortitude, temperance & justice, make them most beautiful: those of truth apparel them with two precious habits, wisdom & sapience, through which habits, our souls become like to divine beauty: proportion, by which one part of the soul with admirable symmetry answereth to the other, is no other but a famous virtue, which maketh our soul so fair & beautiful, that if with bodily eyes it might be contemplated, it would produce in us incredible love, and wonderful affection: this by the eye of the mind is only discovered, being more excellent than a thousand bodily eyes; and therefore in those whose mind is not blind, it bringeth forth affections not only wonderful, but out of doubt such, as neither by the tongue can be expressed, nor by the mind comprehended.  
According to order, the Beauty of the worldly soul followeth, called Nature, and intelligence not erring, whose beauty in like manner is observed in colours and proportion. Colours are no other, but divine Ideas infused in the same soul: and proportion is nothing else, but an exemplat form, of superior understanding imprinted in the said soul, after whose image by the seal of divinity, it maketh matter deformed, beautiful. The beauty of Angels divided into divers Hierarchies, as we have said, is no other but Angelical understanding, garnished, and replenished with all forms intelligible by understanding divine. These of all understandings, have the greater proportion to receive celestial splendour, as those who being always present, do face to face behold divine Beauty: and therefore those Angelical understandings, are always in action of intelligence, and are made beautiful, after such a sort, as of deformity they are uncapable, which is not in human intellect, by reason it is not ever in action of intelligence, and is capable as well of deformity as beauty. For when the soul abaseth itself with cogitations, and intimation in the obscurity of sensible delights, the conceit of Beauty remaineth extinct and darkened; but when it is exalted to the contemplation of things supernal, exposing itself to celestial light, then procureth she her own native beauty, to be clear and excellent. Hitherto (most famous Queeve) we have entreated of sensible and intelligible Beauty, in as much as it is Beauty participated of.  
Now remaineth it unto us to discourse of true & essential Beauty, by mean of which all things created are so much the more fair, by how much the more they are partakers of it, This is found in the first understanding, being the most mighty and excellent God, creator and giver of all Beauty: because he alone is absolute perfection, perfect wisdom, and incomprehensible Beauty: especially not to be comprehended by our understanding: the which at contemplation of divine essence, remaineth no less obfuscate, then is the eye of a Bat in beholding the sun. Having therefore to discuss upon so high a subject, I will endeavour to the uttermost of my wit and capacity, to direct your majesty to the contemplation of essential and true divine Beauty, by those means which are granted unto us by the Creator: For he hath not equally distributed his Treasures. Angelical understanding is replenished by the chief creator, essentially with all forms intelligible, and to it is permitted the contemplation of divinity face to face. Intellect human, in as much as it is united to the material body, deprived of all intelligibles, (as a plain & smooth board) is yet in potential power to receive all the forms & intelligible representations, the material & sensible, by their own Ideas, and the immaterial and insensible by another's, or in another's likeness & similitude: & therefore all our knowledge proceedeth from sense, things sensible being the true means which guide to the knowledge of those intelligible, being as it were similitudes and representations of them. By these representations therefore & similitudes, I will seek to make known divine & true Beauty, the which consisteth, though in a most supereminent manner, in colour & proportion, for it is a thing most certain, that this sensible light is no other but a bright colour, colour being likewise nothing else, but a shadowed & obfuscate light, seeing it is generate, not only by the mixtion of the first qualities, but also by light and shadow: wthere is this difference, that the shadowy light is not of itself in visible act, but to that is procured by bright colour, whereas bright colour is not only of itself, always invisible act; but further, is an occasion that all other things be visible, seen, & by all men's eyes beheld. And therefore the sun adorned with this bright colour, is the first visible, the first seen, and first seeing, deservedly called by Heraclitus the eye of the world.  
This bright sensible colour, which is the suns beauty, easily guideth to the knowledge of brightest colour intelligible, which is the Beauty of the first understanding, being as it were the Image and similitude of it: for as sensible colours can neither be visible nor seen, without the most bright colour of the sun, so intelligible colours, which be those intelligible forms, cannot have actual intelligence, nor be conceived, without the presence of most bright colour divine: And as the eyes should not be actually seeing without celestial light, so Intellects, which be no other but incorporeal eyes, should not actually be intelligent without divine splendour & brightness: for as the light of the sun is of itself visible, & by itself seen, so the most bright colour divine is of itself intelligibile, and by itself understood. And as the sun by his most bright colour is the first visible, first seen, and first seeing, so the first understanding, which is god, most mighty and excellent, with his most glittering shining colour, and light essential, is the first intelligible, first understood, and first intelligent. The Sun by his resplendent light, exceedeth all the celestial bodies in Beauty: the first intellect (excepting always, if it be lawful to make comparison, between the finite and infinite) through his divine splendour, and most glittering light is in the intelligible world, of all intellects the beautifullest, and most supereminent: and as the light of our material fire, in these inferior parts, representeth the Sun; so is the light of the sun in the world celestial, the true similitude of divine light and brightness. And therefore the divine Philosopher, defineth light to be no other than an influence of divine essence, into all worldly things infused, not being any thing throughout the universal work, wherein some shadow of light doth not appear and shine. These be the means and similitudes (renowned Queen) which show that the Beauty of the first Intellect consisteth in his proper colour, being the same light which beautifieth, and is diffused throughout the whole world. It remaineth that I procure you to understand the other part of divine and essential beauty, which is proportion. Yet let not your highness imagine, that these beauties which I place in God, be in themselves divers, as also distinct, from divine essence, as we see in other understandings. For in God there is nothing which is not divinity of itself, and therefore in God Idea, light, wisdom, justice, be no other but God himself; notwithstanding they are divers by our unperfect manner of understanding: because therefore we understand proportion as divers from his light, we will so express it. Proportion then, which is in God part of his Beauty, is no other but the Idea and exemplar form of the whole world, in that divine intellect, in which universal frame, all the parts being together, within themselves wholly correspondent, they are in that divine understanding with greater proportion than in the world. As in the Architects understanding, the model and exemplar form of building is much more fair and excellent, then in the building itself: In that the form of Building may receive impediment from matter which ever resisteth Ideall reason, but that which is in the Soul being pure and Immaterial, can have no defect. So that as the Beauty of the building and of all the parts thereof, dependeth on the exemplar form, which in the understanding of the Architect, and therefore this in the Building is called Beauty participated of, and that in the Architects understanding, Beauty essential.  
So the Beauty of this worldly Frame, and all the parts thereof dependeth on Ideal form, in mind divine comprehended, and therefore that is teaimed Beauty participated of: and this in the mind of the divine Architect, is true and essential beauty, which consisteth as I have said, in Ideall proportion, and his shining light, which is not only the true light, that illuminateth man coming into this world, but further, is that which causeth the universal frame to be resplendent and beautiful. The divine Prophet showeth (and it is true) that God having created in five days all other things which are comprehended in the whole world, he finished his labour the sixth day in the work of man. I having therefore dilated of the whole world in the first part of my discourse, as also of all the parcels thereof, and in the second of corporeal Beauty sensible: in the third of Artificial beauty: in the fourth of the Beauty of Intellects, and in the fift of essential Beauty divine, imitation of divine wisdom, I determine in this sixth and last part, to conclude with the Beauty of the shape human. Throughout the whole world divine Beauty obscureth all other pulchritude. The Sun exceedeth in beauty all bodies celestial, and Beauty human excelleth all the other of this inferior world, and therefore we may say with the holy scripture, that God created man after his own Image, seeing that in man the beam of divinity doth appear and shine. This heavenly creature whom we call man, was compounded of soul and body, the which body, having to be the harbour of a most fair and immortal soul, was created without covering of hide, bristles, feathers, scales, brutish tusks, or horns, neither with bill, or clawing talents, but most exquisite, with his eyes towards heaven, and was placed in the midst of the world, to the end that as in an ample Theatre, he might behold and contemplate the works of the great God, and the Beauty of the whole world: as also there was granted unto him a perfect tongue & speech, that inflamed with love divine, and replenished with admiration, he might praise, and with words extol divine beauty. In human body we find proportion & colours, more than in all other bodies compounded of parts unlike, because in it that proportion is comprehended, which representeth the whole corporeal sensible world, as also the colours that beautify this sensible world; the one of which is white, like to heavenly light, and the other is red, like to the shining colour of material and visible fire: and therefore man was worthily called a little world, seeing the body of man is no other but a little model of the sensible world, and his soul an Image of the world intelligible. The beauty therefore of human body, consisteth in due measure of proportion, that is, in fair and goodly lineaments, and in colours well disposed: and further, which falleth not out in any other body compounded of parts unlike, his beauty principally is discovered in one part alone: & this is in the superior part, which regardeth towards the light of the Sun: whose beauty is that, which by mean of the eye procureth love. Moreover (which likewise in no other kind of creature is found) Beauty human is in women, in far greater excellency observed, then in men, which was thus dispensed with great providence by the chief creator. For having granted woman unto man for a companion, he endowed her with excellent beauty, for production of Man, and to inflame in him a desire to generate that fair and beautiful. This Anacreon confirmeth, saying, that as running is the ornament of an horse, and wisdom of a man; so beauty is the proper honour of a woman: And the Philosopher in the first of his Rhetroyke, doth in such sort appropriate beauty to a woman, as he setteth it down principally amongst feminine virtues, saying, that the virtues of a woman be beauty, honesty, and desire to take pains, without avarice. And in the same book speaking of the beauty of man, he placeth in the visage of man, together with the aspect, terrible, regard and countenance, to the end that, provoked in fight, he might be a terror to his enemies, which doth clearly manifest that beauty is not in man in so great perfection as in a woman, because his beauty, procureth as well terror as love, whereas Beauty in women doth always generate love, & never procureth fear. If I were willing to describe the beauty of visage human, I might much more easily point it out with my finger, them express it by my tongue. Yet for all this I will not forbear to affirm that to form perfect Beauty in human visage, four things sitly concur, proportionable feature, colour well disposed favour & presence: to goodly feature & colour, fair & comely presence addeth such excellency, as without it all other Beauties languish & wear away. This was well known and commended by Petrarch in the countenance of his Lauretta, in the sonnet that beginneth; 
From time to time she seemeth more to mollify,  
By hue Angelical and her sweet simpering smiles,  
And by the favour that her face doth dignify,  
With rolling eyes also, disciphring wanton wiles.   
Whether this be a beam of the soul, which glittereth in the countenance after the same sort as the beams of the intelligences, shine in their proper heavens & spheres, or that it be an harmony of shadowed colours & lineaments, I dare not affirm, but confess myself to be ignorant, & will remain bound to him, that shall make me capable here of. How much favour importeth to the perfection of beauty human, from hence we easily conceive: for without favour, beauty would neither be gracious, nor accepted of: for she accompanied with favour, hath force to draw to herself, all those minds which can comprehend her; & without favour beauty may be said to be unperfect: therefore the ancients feigned the Graces to be the waiting maids of Venus; by this inferring, that beauty ought ever to be accompanied by favour, & from her never to be separate. Presence principally is discovered in the sweet and comely motions of the body, for the body standing immovable, is not apparent, and for my part I would say that presence is no other than a certain faculty and agility, which the body hath to obey the soul.  
It remaineth unto me (most excellent Queen) for conclusion of this my discourse, that I declare unto your highness, that human beauty to on other end, hath by the chief creator been produced, amongst all beauty's sensible, most excellent, but to kindle this honest & holy love divine, which uniteth human creature with his creator. For man wholly astonished in beholding human Beauty, raiseth up his mind to the contemplation of Beauty true & essential, whereof this is a shadow and similitude. this discourse of Patritio was by the Queen commended, as also by the other Ladies, when S. Gioan Battista Guirini, a gentleman most judicial in choice and excellent learning, added. Questionless signor Francisco hath so plentifully discoursed of Beauty, that little more may be adjoined thereunto; notwithstanding, in every part I am not satisfied, if he lose not some doubts which hold bound my mind. For he having showed, that Beauty consisteth in proportion or colours, or in one and the other together, hath from this his beauty excluded some things, which are esteemed fair; into which being altogether simple, proportion cannot fall, it being no other but that symmetry and commeseration which the parts have between themselves conformable together to the whole: for we say, a beautiful colour, a fair light, a fair voice, a fair sound, & such like: our Italian word Bello being used in commending of all these excellencies, & in these there is neither proportion nor colours. But further, he averring that the beauty of bodies compounded of parts unlike, is the proportion that the parts have between themselves, & with the whole, he manifestly contradicteth his friend Plotinus, principal of the Platonical family, who maketh plain demonstration, that beauty cannot be in proportion: and amongst many other arguments, this, in my judgement, is not of little importance, for saith he, if proportion were beauty, it would follow, that the parts which compound the whole, should not be beautiful; for no composition being in them, there is likewise no proportion, and they not being fair, how can the whole be beautiful, considering that of parts not beautiful, an whole Beauty cannot be compounded: notwithstanding the consequent is false; for the parts which compound the whole, are & be termed fair, we usually saying, a fair hand, a fair foot, a fair eye, a beautiful nose, & such like; this word Bello serving for to commend all these perfections: the antecedent therefore is false, which is, that proportion is beauty. Furthermore, he also unmindful of his Plautinus, hath only entreated of that sensible beauty, which is the proper object of the sense of seeing, & hath not placed that in the number of Beauties, which is the object of hearing, that being of so great price, as Plotinus maketh it, like to the beauty of the soul: and this is melody or music which so greatly delighteth, there being no doubt but that also is termed by the title of fair, we saying for the most part, excellent music, singular harmony, & pleasant consent. I expect therefore signor Francisco, that you resolving these my doubts, do cause your beauty to appear, much more resplendent and glorious, then that altogether beautiful.  
Very wittily and learnedly said Patritio, according to the custom of his pregnant wit, doubteth signor Guicini how I have for born to put in the number of things beautiful, some other which also are called by the same name, as also moved by the authority of Plotynus, he doubteth that proportion is not the beauty of bodies compounded of parts different, as more over, me lody is to be numbered amongst beauties sensible. I answering therefore to his first doubt said, that beauty is a quality as we have affirmed, & therefore cannot of itself consist, but is necessary that it be resident to a subject, & this shallbe substance. For substance as the sound thereof imporreth, is that which by itself subsisteth, and not the quality or accident. Colour therefore being an accident which cannot stand by itself, it cannot be the subject of beauty, but rather the beauty of the subject. Whereupon we speaking properly, this proposition will not be true, that colour is beautiful, except we understand it in this sort, that it maketh another thing beautiful. As physic is said to be healthful, because it healeth another, it is also unproperly spoken when we say, a fair voice, or a fair sound: for besides that there can be no sensible beauty: but that which is comprehended by the sense of sight, sound and voice, hath in a certain manner the said proportion with Musical consent as hath the colour, with the body coloured: for as by colour, beauty is represented to the eyes: so by sound and harmony, the voice representeth melody to the ears: whereupon as we cannot say a beautiful colour, so can we not likewise term the voice to be fair, I say speaking properly: but instead hereof, we might better term, a melodious, or good voice, and a good or sweet sound. I have not in like manner placed in the number of things beautiful those which be the objects of hearing; for only proportion in bodies, according to Plato's mind, is called Beauty: and in number it is termed harmony in humours health, and in the mind virtue. For as it would be no proper but translated speech to say instead of, beauty of the body, harmony of the body, and for the health, the beauty of the humours, so would it be improper to say, the beauty of number, or health of number, in that the science itself, which entreateth of Music, termeth his proper subject, number harmonious, and not beautiful. That harmony, which is the object that most delighteth hearing, is not properly beauty, as that of bodies, it is by this manifest; for beauty of bodies is absolutely a work of Nature, shining of itself, without the help or adoperation of Art: But harmony is not wholly a work of Nature, but dependeth of science, and art human, which the understanding retaineth, by musical habit; and therefore in Music it seemeth, that not only sense, but also understanding is wakened and delighted. Further, beauty in bodies, is always in action, neither needeth it human art to be seen, but suddenly at the appearance of light doth discover itself; harmony, notwithstanding it be always potentially in number, nevertheless without human Art, it cannot be in action, nor be heard: Yet this (and with Plotynus leave be it spoken) is much different from beauty, by the argument of Plotynus himself, which is, that proportion in bodies compounded, of parts unlike, cannot be Beauty. For though I esteem him as Prince and chief of all the Platonists, nevertheless, desiring to have truth my friend, I can not in this conform myself to his opinion: For he considered not, that the different parts which compound the whole, are also framed themselves, of parts and parcels unlike: For the hand is compounded of fingers, and the fingers of joints and nails, and in it do we behold well disposed colours, and due proportion, as likewise in the feet and all other members, in which out of doubt, we find proportion of the parts and whole: and therefore when we call them beautiful, we respect them not as parts, but also as entire wholes, & compounded. I further affirm, that as of matter & form, the body heavy, and light, is compounded, although neither the matter not form, is either heavy, or light; so will it be no such great inconvenience, that of parts not fair, an entire beautiful should be compounded. Guirini seemed to be satisfied with the answer of Patritio, who now withdrew himself, to give place to the L. Laura Peverara, that by commandment of the Queen, had taken the Harp into her hand for music: When the lady Tarquinia Molza: go not away said she, signor Patritio, for I have also a doubt to cast, neither do I think that the Queen's mind is, I should here rest discontented, as I must needs, you not satisfying me, in my own I cannot say, but even in the general doubt of every one: for who is there, especially among us women, which knoweth the reason (speaking of beauty human) why she with us is so rare, & deformity so frequent, and yet the quite contrary should be, if that were true which you have spoken: That Nature the ministress of divine providence, and disposer of all forms, doth imprint them in matter, according to example, in understanding divine: how can it therefore be, signor Patritio, that Nature, who hath ever before her eyes, the true model of Beauty, after the Image whereof she intendeth to form the thing beautiful, like an unskilful Painter, or Graver, should for the most part impart deformity.  
This doubt Lady, answered Patritio, is not smally importing: being undoubtedly worthy of your most noble conceit, notwithstanding I will endeavour myself herein, to give you satisfaction. It is a thing certain, that Beauty proceedeth from form, and deformity from matter; the which, as it is of his own proper nature unformall, so all deformity hath from it derivation: For matter resisteth Ideall reason, so that in her she cannot produce the perfect form she intendeth: and from hence cometh it, that the Graver can never set forth Beauty in Marble, answerable to the immaterial impression of her in his mind: for the marble makes resistance to his chizel, hand and art. Applying this then to our purpose I say, that the matter whereof human creature is form (and it is pure blood, mixed with man's seed, in the womb of the woman) in which the great mother Nature determineth to introduce the Image of divinity, is not always one, and the self same, but sometimes by the mother, otherwhiles by the father, and often by the variabilitie of celestial influence, we find it diversly disposed. Hereupon it appears, that one more, another less, resisteth Ideall reason. By how much therefore matter is of greater resistance, by so much the more looseth form his beauty; as on the contrary it obtaineth the more, the less it maketh resistance: And therefore divine Plotinus defineth Beauty to be no other, but the flower of form subduing matter. It seems you, replied the L. Tarquinia, would charge the heavens, with beauty or deformity, seeing it is they that dispose matter, to greater or less refictance. Without doubt, answered Patritio, as of the cause instrumental, the beauty and deformity of celestial influence dependeth; so likewise doth all other effects of this inferior world: for celestial heat, is the principal instrument of nature, as also vital heat, is the instrument of nature in man's procreation, which by the father in feed impressed, hath proportion with the starry element: and therefore if nature would introduce like form, unto Ideall beauty, it is necessary, many things should agree to subdue the resistance of matter: as these points would be requisite, that the father's seed be well disposed, that the heat of the womb be temperate, as also that celestial heat be graciously infused by the favourable stars: As Petrarch affirmeth, speaking of his fair Laura, in the Song  
Garments of green, yet bloody, tawny, and obscure: Saying in the seventh Stanza: 
O gracious stars, which fervour did infuse,  
Into the flank that was so fortunate,  
When this fair child, the world came to peruse,  
Whom for a star on earth we celebrate:   
And as followeth likewise in the fift Stanza of the Song: Silent I cannot be: and fear prevaileth not.  
When he saith: 
The self-same day, when she was bound in world below:  
Those stars which in us have most happy influence:  
In places high, and choice, themselves did soon bestow,  
One with another, in friendly correspondence:  
Venus and jove her sire, with gracious mild aspect,  
Above the fair and princely houses did possess:  
When all disastrous lights, evil fortune that detect,  
Were all in heaven extinct, and darkened questionless.   
And as further followeth: being therefore necessary, that so many things should concur together for generation of Beauty, no marvel (most gentle Lady,) though Beauty so seldom, and Deformity so often manifesteth herself: The cause of Beauty and Deformity set down by Patritio, seemed very probable to the Lady Tarquinia, and when all the attendants and standers by, imagining, that in the like argument, no other thing was to be sought after. The excellent Duchess, a princess of rare and strange capacity, making Patritio once again to stay. You have yet further, said she, to satisfy my doubt, which proceeds from having by you been affirmed, that the beauty of human body consisteth in proportion and colours: I desire therefore to know which holdeth the chiefest place, because by this means I shall also come to knowledge, which is the greater defect in beauty, either disproportion, or deficiency in colours. Reason, said Patritio, persuadeth me most noble Lady, to yield the chiefest place to proportion, notwithstanding sense maketh me stand doubtful, ever observing, that the countenances of these fair Ladies, and of all women, do more shine and glitter through the abundance of colours, than by great proportion. Although I, if it so please your Majesty, will discuss this problem, by allegation of reasons, both for the one and other part: and without giving definitive sentence, will leave sufficient arms to every one, to defend that best pleaseth him. And there is no doubt, but rastes be diverse; whereupon every one enamoured will commend that part in which his beloved is more excellent: for this may be perceived in Petrarch, who sufficiently praiseth the colours of his Lauretta, because her colours exceeded far her proportion. He called therefore her fair hair, tresses of gold, her forehead more beautiful than the heaven, he compared the eye lids to ebony, the cheeks to frosts, snows, and roses; the lips to rubies, the teeth to pearls, as we read in all those Sonnets which contain the beauty of Laura: where we see not so much as one word, having relation to feature or proportion. The manner of handling this controversy pleaseth me well, replied the L. Duchess, seeing every one may reason to their own mind: yet give you the onset, and begin first from proportion, the which out of doubt naturally exceeds colours, as do the clements things mixed. When Patritio therefore, had a little paused with himself, he said: Among all beauty's sensible, that seems the most perfect beauty, which is nearer to beauty intelligible, as also of that most participating. Proportion is such: therefore amongst all beauty's sensible she is the greater: and consequently where she is found, is that, which to beauty, giveth greater perfection. Proportion questionless hath greater similitude with intelligible beauty, because it can not be proportion without order, and order is proper to reason, which reason is no other, but a similitude of beauty intelligible, and of the self divine intellect: but further it is the more principal part of beauty sensible, which reacheth delight, not only to sense, but also to the mind, and such proportion: for by the order and disposition of parts, the footsteps of reason do in her appear, and therefore she is very conformable to the nature of the mind, being apt to delight, and ravish it with unspeakable contentment: Further, proportion is the principal cause of beauty, throughout the universal frame, aswell of the world corporeal and sensible, as of the intelligible: considering that by proportion, it is created, and by the same preserved; therefore it deserveth the chiefest place in the beauty of human body, which is no other but a model of the great world. Except we should foolishly beleene, that the world was made by chance, we must necessarily conceive, that with special providence, it was built by the divine architect, as also it is necessary to place in the same divine mind, the Ideal form, as we have said of the world, by others termed the worlds Archtype, even as it is necessary that the model and Idea of the building, should be in the mind of the Architect. Now the principal and most perfect part, as well in the mind of divine, as human Architect is proportion, because in it order and disposition are comprehended. According to this Ideall proportion therefore was the whole world by God created, and first of figure circular; because to contain this universal work, that of all other figures was most proportionable, and the heavenly spheres were with so great proportion framed, as likewise to every one, motion, with so singular proportion dispensed, that in moving (as the divine Philosopher affirmeth) they procure celestial harmony: every star hath his proportion to receive light from the Sun; and the Sun proportionably to every one of them, dispenseth & infuseth of his light; and both the stars, and Sun, with so great measure and proportion, do infuse their light and heat into these inferior bodies, as with marvel, and wonder from them, springeth the beauty of this inferior world. Such proportion we find in the elements, as well in quantity as quality, as if of this their proportion, the least part were but disproportioned, one element would convert all the other into his proper Nature, or else the world would be confounded into Chaos. Proportion causeth harmony in number, in body's beauty, in humours health, in mind virtue, as contrariwise disproportion, procureth in numbers discord, in body's deformity, in humours infirmity, and in the mind vice: But who is it that will doubt proportion to be the cause of all delights, as well sensible, as inte ligible, in that the good which delighteth, is no good, if it bring not with it proportion, neither is there any thing that desireth to be united with good simply, but with a good to itself proportioned; and from hence proceedeth the saying of Heraclitus, that every thing is ravished with his own contentment, the which stands in union of good, to itself proportioned: and this is that which properly of all things is beloved and desired.  
To conclude, as there can not be good in the universal world, without proportion, so can there not in the little world which is man, be any beauty without proportion: and, as good can not without proportion procure desire; so can not beauty without proportion cause love: In that love is not generate in the lover, but by symmetry, which the thing beloved hath with the lover: by all these, and other reasons, which might be produced, we may conclude, that all perfection springeth principally from proportion: and therefore that it in human body is a part more excellent, than is the beauty of colours. Me thinks said the Duchess, the doubt is after such a manner cleared, as we need not proceed any further, and that the palm is due rather to beautiful feature, than to fair and well disposed colours. It is a thing just and requisite, renowned Lady, said Patritio, before judgement to attend the party, for his allegations are not to be contemned, and therefore that lover who is made a servant to beautiful tresses, to black eyes, to coloured cheeks, to rosy lips, to a white hand, will allege in defence of colours, that the beauty which is part, or rather proper offpring of the most perfect of all beauties sensible, aught to be the self same, which bringeth principally the name of beautiful to that subject wherein it is found; but colours are such, therefore by colours human body shall principally be called beautiful: that colours be such, it is a thing manifest: for light is the greatest of all beauties sensible, as that which is no other but a beam & influence of divine essence, dispersed over the will world (as I have said) this being granted to the most perfect, of all bodies sensible, which is the sun, to the end that by it, it might not only be beautifullest of all other creatures, but that it should also be the mean and principal cause, of the appearance of all other beauties: colours are so conjoined with light, and light with colours, after such a sort united, as we term light a bright colour in a body illumined, & colour a shadowed light in a coloured body: in no point differing, but that light is a colour without adumbration, & colour a light shadowed, whereupon those colours which have least adumbration, as is white, have the greater similitude with the purity of light: Light then being the greatest beauty of the world, and colours part of light, and of light created, in all reason they ought to obtain the chiefest place in human beauty.  
This lover will further argue, if the proper object delectable to the sight, is no other but beauty, colours being more delightsome than proportion or figure, should also have in them greater beauty. That colours be such, it is proved, for colours are proper sensibles of the sight, but figure and proportion sensibles common: & by the opinion as well of the Perepatetikes, as Academikes, proper sensibles do more move & delight sense, then common. Neither want there philosophers of authority, as was most learned Psellus, which hold opinion, that common sensibles are rather known by reason, stiried up by the senses, then by the sense themselves.  
To conclude, he will thus reason, grounding himself upon that proposition, which runneth currant through all universities, and is this: that which is the cause that another thing is such, is much more the like itself: as for example sake: If fire be the cause that all other things are hot, then shall it of all other things be the hottest: I will therefore affirm, that if beauty of colours, is a cause that the beauty of figure and proportion is apparent, then must they likewise needs be of more apparent beauty: as light is of all other beauties the fairest, in that light is the cause of the appearance of all beauties sensible: and there is no doubt, but colours are the cause of the appearance of proportion, considering that common sensibles cannot be comprehended, but by sensibles proper: by the testimony of women themselves, of whom beauty is the proper ornament: the said reasons may be confirmed, they being privy, that colours in beauty human holdeth the chiefest place, and are of themselves apt to produce Love: they employ all their industry in the beauty of colours, by making their hair like the shining colour of gold, the cheeks like to white lilies and red roses, the lips to rubies, the teeth to the orient whiteness of pearl, with which beauties shadowing some other of their disproportions, they yet appear, & are called fair, kindling notwithstanding by such heart, in the hearts of men amorous flames. I'll further add the authority of the doctors, of the Moysaical law, who desirous that men leaving their bestial appetites, should be enamoured of women, set down by public decree, that it should be lawful for women to paint their faces, and that fathers to daughters, brothers to sisters, & husbands to wives, should be enjoined to allow money for the buying of colours: these wisemen conceiving, that there is not a beauty more prevailent to imprint love in human breasts, then that of colours: & thus will this entangled lover with the beauty of colours conclude, that colours are the most principal points of human beauty. Hear Patritio held his peace, and on a sudden great murmuring did arise, one defending one part, and others another, which the Queen observing, she pointed to the Lady Laura Peverara. This is a Gentleman belonging to the Duchess, borne in Mantua, to the glory of that City, married to Count Hannibal Turcho, one of the principallest Gentlemen of our City: who, as she doth easily with her beauty kindle love in any one that beholdeth her, so with her honest customs and modesty, she doth so assuage others flames, that all amorous affection, is resolved into singular and special reverence, whereupon by all those that know her, she is no less reverenced than beloved. Being come therefore before the Queen with her Harp, she sung so sweetly, as it seemed the soul at the sound of that divine harmony ravished, would have flown out from the body of every one that heard her: when music being finished, the Lady Duchess dwarf came running, and made it known that the Court was at hand: whereupon the queen rising up, the Ladies and knights after order given for prosecution of these disscussions begun, the day following went to meet his highness, and the rest of the day while suppertime, was passed over in divers recreations, and pleasant sports. After supper they trod certain measures, which finished, his highness rose up, and every one retired himself apart to his Lodging.   

The second days discourse: Wherein, an argument arising amongst the Ladies and Gentlemen, they disscusse of human love.  
THe day following, his highness with the renowned Duchess, and part of the Court, went into the wood of Elisea, where was prepared a very pleasant chase, the huntsmen with their nets having enclosed a sufficient number of boars, whereof that wood above all others doth greatly abound: and the usual company placed in order, returned to the Chamber of the Lady Countess of Sala, from whence taking, by chance, the Lady Isabel Bentivoglia, a matron, adorned with most noble qualities, she was crowned Queen, who after a little silence, spoke in this manner: I believe not, that amongst us there can any one be found of so dull a conceit, which did not yesterday find great contentment in the discourse of signor Patritio, he having explained unto you, what beauty was, from whence she derived her original, and to what end she was granted unto mortal men, by the omnipotent Creator. The which having well considered, I think it not much from the purpose, to prosecute the method & begun, give some occasion to these pregnant and learned wits, to extend forth such like delights, which also unto us may be a singular benefit and commodity: For what greater pleasure may be tasted, then to satisfy that natural desire we have to understand. signor Patritio said yesterday, that beauty was the mother of love, and therefore, as of the mother I remained out of doubt, so am I desirous to have some notice of the son, and in effect to know, what thing this is which we term love: for in the description that Plutarch thereof maketh, I am but little satisfied: it seeming unto me a mere fable to say, that he is a blind boy, winged, and naked, with a bow in his hand, & arrows by his side, as likewise it is no less vanity to affirm that he is a courteous child, or froward old man, & that he springeth from idleness and human jollity. I command you therefore signor Guirino (if my favour be with you of any worth) that you dilate upon this subject, because I am assured, that all will attend you with great pleasure and contentment, for the desire every one hath to know the Tyrant, or rather this greedy devourer of human hearts. A most grievous burden (thrice excellent queen) doth your majesty lay upon my shoulders (answered Guicino) in suddenly enjoining me to entreat, of so high an argument, as love is, in contemplation whereof, the most refined wits have been confounded. Nevertheless, to make known how dear the favour of so great a Queen is unto me, I will courageously attempt the enterprise, hoping that love himself, unto whom from my cradle I have dedicated my life, will stir up my invention, and move my tongue, so that conformable to your highness intention, I may make his noble essence & other mysteries unto him appertaining, most perspicuous and manifest.  
Here Guirino staying & pausing a little with himself, begun afterwards in this manner. Our soul (most excellent queen) being derived from true and essential beauty, there is in it such an inclination, and knowledge of beauty impressed, that no sooner by the eye, beauty discovereth itself unto her, but suddenly without any reasonable action rejoicing with herself, she is greatly delighted. Hereupon it proceedeth, that there is not so harsh a spirit and capacity, which at the presence of some beautiful thing, be it natural or artificial, slayeth not with wonder and delight to behold it, although he can neither comprehend the proportion, order, or any other part of this Beauty. But in that (most illustrious Queen) as yesterday signor Patritio made manifest, Beauty human, (as the lively image of divinity) surmounteth all other in this inferior world, therefore deservedly is it that, which with his present appearance, hath force to inflame and kindle love in the soul of man. Of which love human (seeing your majesty so commandeth) I have determined to discourese, laying apart that general argument, whereof others supper fluously have entreated: it being rather a certain inclination, which every creature hath to his own particular good, than a true & infailible love. Whentherfore we would attain to the prerfect knowledge of any thing, these four things especially we are wont to seek out: first whether that, after which we seek, be extant: secondly, what it is: thirdly, from whence it hath his original: and lastly, what end it hath. Now therefore, I supposing, (which of all these Ladies and gentlemen will be granted unto me) that love is: I will pass over unto the other three sought after, the which I intent to make manifest unto you, in the description I shall set down of Love: but before I go any further, I think it not amiss to lay open some definitions. i. two of divine Plato, & one taken out of Aristotle, for taken out I may very well say, because be never hath defined it. Plato therefore in his book called Phedro, saith, that love is no other thing, but a desire of unition with that which is Beautiful, and in his Conuivio, as also in Diotima, he affirmeth, that love is a desire of bringing forth that which is beautiful: In like manner, out of the words of Aristotle in his Rhetoric, may be gathered, that love is no other but a desire of interchangeable affection. The words of Plato's first definition be true, but yet being too much restrained, they declare not sufficiently the nature of love: the second is only proper to one kind of human love, and therefore cannot be taken for a general desinition. That of Aristotle, notwithstanding it be universal, and hath his verification, as well in love as in good will, being in a manner the end both of one and other, yet is it somewhat defective, because there wanteth the efficient cause, as in it no mention being made of beauty, which properly doth generate and preserve love: but in that the defect of these definitions will be made manifest, in the consideration of that I intent to propound. I will in this proceed no further, but come to define human love, according to the power of my slender wit: and admit I prevail no further, yet by this means shall I give occasion to these learned understandings, to think better on it. I affirm, that love is no other but a forcible perturbation of human mind, stirred up by some known beauty, through a secret conformity of Nature, which the lover hath towards the thing beloved, resolving with himself in desire, to be united with this beauty in love corporeal. That love is violent perturbation of our soul and mind, it may be confirmed by the authority of Plato in his Conuivio, where he termeth love a great spirit or Daemon: and if the authority of so great a Philosopher were not sufficient, yet might these noble Ladies give ample testimonial thereof, who peradventure have felt more than once, and often do feel the same, in whose delicate & chaste breasts be the most lively and fervent flames of love, as likewise these amorous young Gentlemen, amongst whom peradventure, more than one may be found, who at the presence of such a splendour and beauty, murmuring to himself, may say.  
If this be not blind love what may I then, call this my fit?  
But Love if that it be, O God, what manner of thing is it?  
There is no doubt but among all the passions and affections of mind, love holdeth the chiefest place, there being no other affection that maketh alteration, as well in the body as mind, than love doth, as Petrarch wittily expresseth. describing in a sonnet his amorous passion, when he saith: 
I find no peace, and yet to war, dare not be bold:  
I fear, and hope, I burn, and yet like ice am cold.   
And in another place, I fear and tremble, fry, and freeze. That to procure love, it is necessary that beauty, as a cause efficient, should be known, it may be proved by the Philosopher's authority, in the ninth of his morals, where he affirmeth, that it is impossible any one should be enamoured, without he be first drawn unto it by beauty: and the reason also hereof is in readiness, in that knowledge ever goeth before affection, which is no other but a sudden motion of the sensative faculty, & cordial spirits, procured by a delectable or odious apprehension, resolving either into desire of union or separation; whereupon ensueth either pleasure or grief. I have also placed that little clause, as necessary in the definition of love, through a secret conformity of nature, that the lover hath with the beloved. For it is not possible that any should be enamoured, except in finding a woman conformable in beauty to his own proper disposition, the which is testified by the testimony of Plato in Lyside, where he concludeth, that we are enforced, to love that which is conformable to our nature: as also by the authority of divine Petrarch, in the second Stanza of that excellent Sonnet, in the sweet time of my first years, where he saith: 
I say that from the day Love first assailed me,  
Were many years yspent, and fast away did flee,  
So that my youthful hue, I changed for grave and sage,  
With frozen thoughts my heart was burdened by that age.  
Which had my heart to Adamant converted quite:  
Nor tears my breast did wet, with cruel loves despite,  
I broke not yet my sleep, and what was not in me,  
I deemed most strange in others when I did it see:  
Alas what am I now? and what have sometimes been?  
By end the life, at evening we the day esteem.  
This cruel boy mark well, of whom I do complain,  
That until then my garments only did remain,  
Hit with his dart: he therefore with his witty snare,  
A mighty Dame did catch, when she was unaware,  
With whom I never could, or ever can prevail,  
By force, wit, penitence, but with these three do fail:  
These two have me transformed into this state you see,  
Of me a living man making a Laurel tree,  
Which planted in cold ground, without leaves cannot be.   
Here Petrarch showeth, that having in his days seen many fair women, (as it is likely) he never was enamoured, but rather had an heart made of Adamant, till by that mightre Dame he was surprised, whose Beauty was conformable to his own proper Nature, and therefore this sweet conformity, is one of the principallest and most essential causes of Love; which hath his original of no other thing, then from the celestial influences in human generation: because these infuse separately, into every thing, as well without life, as living, and especially into man's body, a peculiar and particular temperature, by which every man is in some thing different from another in complexion. From whence springeth divers inclinations and appetites, in that it cannot be denied, but that the sensible faculty, having always his operation joined with the body, followeth the temperature of the body; and therefore it is no marvel (as the Poet saith) if every one be transported by his particular delight, and that the beauty which is apt to ravish the mind of one, scarcely toucheth another. This love, which is no other, but that most vehement passion we spoke of, resolveth into a desire of uniting itself, in reciprocal love, with the thing beautiful: and here let us observe, that though a man hath the greater part of his affections common with other creatures, yet is he from them very different: for in other creatures, affection, desire, action, if they be not hindered, they move as it were in one moment, in that they want reason, which should struggle with sense. But in man, though affection fodainely moveth, yet it is not so readily transformed into desire, or quickly mooned to action, in that this cannot be without the consent of reason: the which as a mistress, oftentimes permitteth not affection to break forth into desire, or so incontinently to proceed to action: If therefore love be willing to resolve into desire, of necessity reason must thereunto consent, it being she that perfectly knoweth the hope, which is the true foundation of this desire. Therefore when any rare beauty or pulchritude conformable to our appetite, discovereth itself, it is not in our power at that instant, to resist amorous affection: but if this beauty be placed in too high a subject, as in a Princess, hope of unition and love reciprocal, failing in us by the light of reason, affection is not converted into amorous desire, but rather into special reverence. By this true conclusion, we may conjecture how vainly it was spoken by our Poet; 
Although thou hast thy heart placed full high above,  
Wail not, though die thou dost, and languish in her love.  For it had been a truer sentence to have said: 
Who placed hath his heart mounting too near the sky,  
May well lament, if he languish through want, and die.   
That love changeth himself into desire of answerable affection, these amorous and valiant Gentlemen, will serve me with most certain and infallible testimony, who stirred up by such a desire, to make themselves worthy of the reciprocal love of their affected mistresses, covet ever to perform gentle and liberal actions: and there is no doubt, but in the heart of every noble lover, the principallest desire is, to be beloved mutually, and that he had rather be deprived of the union of love reciprocal, than by union to lose the mutual and interchangeable affection of his dear affected: and this may suffice for the definition of love. Yet will I not forbear, to admonish these most beautiful Ladies, that they be not too presumptuous in the title of Mistresses, as though they themselves might not likewise come to be lovers: For though their hearts be built of plaster of Adamant, yet be they not so hard, but that Love sometimes with his golden arrow may pierce them; therefore when I say, enamoured, I intent aswell women as men; and by a Lover, I give to understand, both the one and the other. By the same way and mean, that amorous passion, in human hearts is engendered, as by beauty being an object to the sight, and therefore is the mother thereof; so may we affirm with the authority of Petrarch, that the eyes be guides unto the path of love: and therefore in the first Terzetto of his Sonnet, he saith, there was a day when the Sun was darkened.  
Love, me unarmed altogether found:  
And  did make the way, by eyes, my heart to kill,  
Which to my tears were fords, from whence they did distill.  
And in the fift Stanza of the Sonnet: so weak the thread is, whereupon my irksome life depends: 
And also with my heart, let both those lights feel smart,  
Which to the path of love did guide me, to departed:   
And not only the lovers eyes, as the way, but those also of her beloved do necessarily concur, to the imprinting of this amorous passion, as affirmeth the same Poet in the Sonnet, Love hath me set, as white unto the shaft, saying: 
Your eyes this mortal blow, did towards me direct,  
'Gainst which prevails no time, nor place can well protect:   
And in the Sonnet: 
O cruel star, if heavens in us have any force,  
And cruel woman, of whose eyes I take remorse:  
As eke the bow whereto I for a mark did rest.  
That made the wound whereby, with love I do not jest.   
And in the Sonnet: 
When by the eyes into the heart profound,  
A woman doth her lively image send:  
Then all things else departed away full round,  
And virtue, which the soul doth comprehend:  
Then leaves the rest of all the members strait  
Inimoveable, much like a ponderous weight.   
We therefore concluding with the Poet will say, that the eyes be those that swallow down the Idea of the beauty beloved, and transport it to the lovers heart; whereupon the mind incited by that most delectable contentment, enters into contemplation, and feeling of that influence wherewith it is moved, and by little and little set on fire, especially when unto this there cometh the reverberation against them of those most glittering beams, sent forth from the eyes of the beloved: so that fresh fuel added to the former fire, all these together inflame with amorous heat. And as it is not in our power (most noble Queen) to resist amorous affection, as that which in a moment altering the vital spirits, maketh impression in our sensible faculty, so not being able without the consent of reason, to break forth into desire, it is in our power to bridle, and induce it to a mediocrity; which if we do not, it is no more human love, but made like the love of savage beasts, is termed bestial. Wherefore as this disordinate love is the nourishment of all vices, so temperate love, is the principal original of all virtues. Leaving therefore apart this brutish love, which deserveth rather the name, of a luxurious and furious storm, then of true love, we will divide human love into three several kinds, different one from another, in respect of the end to which they are directed.  
The first and excellentest of all the rest, like unto the divine offspring of that celestial Venus, wherein the Seraphins immeasurably burning, do inflame with like affection all the rest of the Angelical spirits, is called divine love. This was defined by Plato in his Phedro, to be no other than a divine fury, which reduceth to memory the form of true beauty, in that far from all brutish action, in the only contemplation of his fair and dear beloved, he resteth satisfied; who beholding beauty as the Image of Divinity, raiseth up by that means his mind to meditate on that beauty which is perfect and celestial. This divine lover desireth that his dear affected should be set on fire, with so holy, chaste, & immaculate a love towards him. With such love, not only young men, but old, religious, and men married may be inamoted; and it is in the highest and most perfect degree of temperature. The second kind, without contaminating chaste thoughts, rejoiceth only in beholding, discoursing, and conversing with his beloved, as also by her to be mutually affected. This is discrepant, from that in the divine lover, insomuch as admiring human beauty, without lifting up the mind to that from whence she had her beginning, he meditateth on this beauty human, not as the Image and representation of Divinity, but as if it were most true and essential beauty, and rejoiceth in this contentment: this is called chaste love, and is in the second degree of temperance. It see emeth kissing unto this Love, is permitted for a reward; in that a kiss is rather the conjunction of soul than body, for by mean of a kiss, a most pleasing passage, of the liveliest spirits being procured both from the one and others heart, the souls of lovers remain so bound together by the undivided knot of love, that of two there is made one, which compounded after this manner, governeth two bodies, and therefore those chastely enamoured, desire to attain to a kiss, as being a true connexion of the soul. Wherefore the divine Philosopher in his Conuivio, speaking of one enamoured with chaste love saith, that kissing, the soul cometh into the lips, from whence it flieth out, and is received.  
The third kind of human love, is that, which resolveth into desire of unition, with the thing beautiful, not only in mind, but also corporally, yet by lawful and honest mean; and this love is that, which is the beginning of thrice sacred Matrimony, and in this, not only an union of reciprocal love, but also a desire of eternity is discovered; for by mean of this lascivious love, a man communicating his own proper kind, being frail, maketh himself eternal. Thus much Plato gave to understand, when he said, Love is a desire of bringing forth that which is beautiful: although this definition hath by others been diversly interpreted, they supposing, that the divine philosopher understood it by that love, wherewith Socrates loved fair and goodly young men; which resolved into a desire of generating in their gentle wits, his noble conceits and moral virtues. There followeth (most excellent Queen) and with this I will finish my discourse, as the shadow a body, so this love, a most cruel passion, which many times with his bitter poison, appalleth and infesteth the happy state of the lover: This is wicked jealousy, which is no other but a passion that assaileth and freezeth the enamoured heart by imminent danger of losing, or to be hindered in the mutual affection of his beloved: This taketh beginning and nourishment, from the lovers understanding the want of some perfection in himself, which in his corrival is abundant and plentiful.  
Hear signor Guirino held his peace, and judging that he had sufficiently satisfied the commandment of the Queen, would have retired himself. When the Queen beckoned unto him, that he should sit still, and commanded the Lady Tarquinia Molza, with all the other gentlewomen, that they should move questions to signor Guirino in the argument of love, that by this gentle exercise, they might beguile the time, till the coming of his Highness.  
This noble desire of your Majesty, answered then the Lady Tarquinia smiling, is unto me singular good hap, and fortune, seeing by this occasion I hope to reduce my mind to tranquillity, which now is greatly troubled for that which signor Guirino hath said, holding opinion, that love is procured in us, by a secret conformity of nature, which the lover hath with his beloved, and that this conformity dependeth on the heavens: which being true, how shall I be free from this amorous storm, notwithstanding I now ride to my great contentment in safe port and harbour? for how shall I be able to avoid, that a beauty conformable to my Nature presenting itself before my eyes, I may not enter into this tempestuous sea of love? I beseech you therefore by your wont courtesy (signor Guirino) explain unto me, whether love cometh by election or destiny. You should (Madam Tarquinia) be over highly conceited in yourself, answered Guirino, and too cruel against love, if as you are always beloved, so you should be secure from being enamoured, and that destiny could not chastise your ingratitude: that love proceedeth from celestial influence, it is confirmed by Petrarch, and especially in the fift Stanza of his Sonnet, or sestine, which beginneth thus: To any creature that doth harbour on the earth, saying: 
I think that in the wood there feedeth no such beast  
By night, nor yet by day, that is, so fair at least  
As she whom I do seek, by shadow, and the son  
Not weary, for my sleep, when morning it doth come,  
So though my mortal body on the earth doth mous,  
Yet doth my firm desire come from the stars above.   
Here he confesseth that his firm and constant love towards Laura, proceeded from the stars, that is, from celestial influence, and in the seventh Stanza of the Song. That my old sweet, yet wicked Lord, speaking in the person of Love, he saith thus: 
As each one by his star, doth seem to be ordained,  
From servile love of maids, I could not be detained.   
And in the Sonnet, It may be some will think that in commending her: in the third Terzetto he saith: 
Thy state divine, by mortal tongue cannot expressed be:  
Love by election doth not draw, but even by destiny.   
To absolve this doubt, and not leave you perplexed, I say that love is planted in the heart of man by destiny, but it taketh there no root, but by election: This is evident by the definition of Love: For he by a known beauty is incited, through the secret conformity of nature, that the Lover hath with his affected, so that it is not in our power, when conformable beauty discovereth itself to effect, that in us amorous passion should not be moved, as likewise we cannot procure, that others affections, whose subject is the part irascible, may not exercise their force, amidst fear, and such like: but in that these affections cannot resolve into desire, as we have said, if reason do not thereto consent, from whose agreement springeth election; it followeth that love cannot change into desire, or take root in man's heart, but by election, which is an action of free will, neither can it by the stars be violated, or have hindrance, as Petrarch speaking of himself affirmeth, in the last Stanza but one of his song: Alas that I am ignorant where hope is to be found, saying: 
No planet doth me thus condemn to wail,  
When that my sight is dimmed by mortal vail;  
What fault is in the stars, or things in beauty that prevail?  The Poet covering to infer, that though the stars incline, yet enforce they not a man, to offer himself as it were a pray to love, but all proceedeth from our election. I am but slooderly comforted, answered the Lady Tarquinia, in this your conclusion, for if it be true which both Petrarch and Ariosto affirm, that love depriveth liberty, and that he can be bridled with no bit (election being an action of free-will,) shall have no place in his Kingdom, and in truth experience showeth, that Love manageth his Empire with violence, and where there is least hope of union and Love reciprocal, there banishing reason from her seat, he principally maketh trial of his force. Unhappy Myrrha was inflamed with the love of her own fathermiserable Canace with her brother Macareus, and unbridled Phedra with the love of most chaste Hippolytus, being overcome by amorous passion: Pasiphae for love of a Bull frequented the woods, and that incontinent young man Guido animated, by this most cruel tyrant defiled in the Temple, that most beautiful statue of Venus: and who will say, that the foundations of these loves were laid in any action of reason, and not confess, that these infortunate lovers were provoked to this disordinate love, rather by destiny than election? To conclude therefore, that love taketh root in man's heart, by election, in my judgement is no other, but to open the eyes of love, and of a blind boy, to make him a wakeful and vigilant old man. My conclusion, learned Lady, (answered Guirino) ought to give you so much the more consolation, by how much for the most part it falleth out to be true, and after such a manner true, as those unnatural and sordid affections, which so greatly amaze you, are recounted but for wonderful accidents. Undoubtedly they were bestial inamorations, as brutish likewise all those shall be, which are rooted in human hearts, without the action of reason: of which you are not to presume in yourself, in whom reason useth to command, and sense to obey. For virtue having already taken certain possession of your most beautiful mind, it will be easy for you, ever to extinguish the disordinate flames of Love; but if destiny set before your eyes, conformable beauty, you beholding it as the representation of divinity, and savished with divine love, will prosently transform yourself into the same divinity.  
I am contented to accept (signor Guirino) of these last words, answered the Lady Tarquinia, no less for commendation, than consolation, neither will I urge further: Then the Lady Camilla Canala, a matron of magnificont presence and high wit, took occasion to propound a doubt; I would also willingly know said she, seeing love is planted in human hearts by destiny, and taketh root by election, whether it be in the lovers power to extirpate it, for of this I greatly doubt. You have great reason to doubt (said Guirino) for by the Philosopher's consent, it is much more hard to resist the appetite of desire, then of anger. And Plato in his Timeo affirmeth, that cupidity giveth no ear to reason, but no sooner is stirred up by sense, then that immediately she is ravished, by these viewed representations: in which opinion Plutarch agreeth. Love then being the principal affection of the part concupiscent, and yet notwithstanding the beauty of the beloved being to the lover represented by sense and imagination, as it hath annexed unto it I know not what manner of violence, which forcibly ravisheth the soul of the lover, so is it impossible that the lover taken by that bait, should clear himself, as Petrarch affirmeth of himself, saying: 
The more I hope my heart will shun this cruel bait,  
The more on beauty's hook to fasten, I await.  And in another place also, speaking of himself, he clearly showeth, that it is not in the lovers power to break the amorous cord, but in that sonnet especially. 
If I ravished with fond desire, do make great haste,  
To follow her that flieth away from me so fast:  
And loosed from the bonds of love, doth run full swift,  
Before my snailing pace, that scarce my foot can lift:  
And calling back myself into securer path,  
She to attend me then, the lesser pleasure hath:  
And vain it is to spur, or yet to fly away,  
When I by loves desire made restive, needs must stay.   
And in the other sonnet.  
Oh pleasant liberty, what trial I have had  
Since thy departure, to conceive that state so bad  
Wherein I have remained, since first I took the wound,  
Of which there never could yet any cure be found:  
These eyes did then the so greatly in their woe,  
As reasons bridle could not curb their doing so.  
And in the second Stanza of the song, when destiny will have it so, he saith: 
So mighty was that fond desire, which me transported hence,  
That reason dead her bridle served for small use or defence.   
And in the fixed Stanza of the Sonnet: If I do meditate in thought, she doth me strait assail.  
This showeth evidently, that seeing love hath possession of man's heart, it is in man's power to acquit, himself of him, saying: 
My folly I perceive, and truth do plainly see,  
Though dazzled, cruel Love by means enforceth me:  
That never suffereth him in honour's path to tread,  
That thereinto doth think he will him surely lead:  
And presently even now, into my heart doth come,  
A light, yet sharp disdain and troublesome:  
Which every thought that was before concealed:  
Doth in my forehead place, to ulmen then revealed:  
What mortal thing on earth should we so dearly love:  
Like to immortal God, who hath his throne above?  
Unhappy he, that greatest honour doth attain,  
In this: which often reason also doth reclaim:  
That drawn by senses, leaveth eft 'zounds the rightway.  
But yet in hatred, or in hope, she doth gainsay,  
Bad customs to dissolve, but forward doth advance,  
Painting out that, whereon mine eyes casting a glance:  
May make me think her borne, my death for to procure,  
Because she pleased herself, and me too much, most sure:   
Ariosto concludeth the same, in the Stanza which beginneth.  
Now out alas, whereof justly may I lament,  
But of Desire, which hath me over stiffly bend.  
Where he addeth: 
And who can bridle that which nsuer had no rain,  
Assured that to death at length she will me train,  
Because attending grief, augmented is my pain.   
Notwithstanding, I little regarding the authority of these Poets, seeing they have but weak minds, I hold the contrary for truth: and that we have power to free ourselves of amorous passion, when, or in what manner soever we please: and to the end most gentle Lady, together with these other Gentlewomen, you may comprehend the truth, examining the matter a little more deeply, I say, that the most excellent and great God (principally Architect, of this worldly frame) having with all beauty bedecked the celestial regions with angelical Spirits, furnishing the heavenly spheres with souls eternal, and having replenished this inferior part with all manner of plants, herbs, and living creatures. The divine majesty desirous to have an artisicer, who might consider the reason of so high a work, admire the greatness, and love the beauty thereof, in the end made man, being of all worldly creatures the most miraculous, but this divine workman having before the creation of man, dispensed proportionably of his treasures to all creaturet, & every kind of living thing, prescribing unto them infallible laws, as to plants nourishment, to living creatures sense, & to Angel's understanding, & doubting with what manner of life he should adorn this his new heir, this divine artificer, in the end determined to make him unto whom he could not assign any thing in proper, partaker of all that, which the others enjoyed, but in particular, whereupon calling him unto him, he said: Live O Adam, in what life pleaseth thee best, and take unto thyself those gifts which thou esteemest most dear. From will this so liberal a grant (most gracious Lady) had our free his original, so that it is in our power, to live like a plant, living creature like a man, & lastly as an Angel: for if a man addict himself only to feeding and nourishment, he becometh a Plant, if to things sensual, he is as a brute beast, if to things reasonable & civil, he groweth a celestial creature: but if he exalt the beautiful gift of his mind, to things invisible and divine, he transformeth himself into an Angel; and to conclude, becometh the son of God. To affirm therefore, that we have not power to free ourselves from love, after he hath planted his root in our hearts, is no other but to reject the most high gift granted unto us by the chief creator, for our great perfection, and to say that we can live no otherwise then creatures irrational, which are wholly bend to sensuality, is a matter altogether false, seeing by the act of reason, we may reduce all affections to mediocrity, and pacify these disordinate motions of our mind: and amongst the rest, this of love. The Lady Camilla was satisfied with this solution, which although it was commended, yet gave it some young men not liking there of occasion to mutter, that the empire of love was utterly destroyed, and that after their so wonderful excess, he should not have authority, to make them so much as a safe conduct, or cover them under his great wings, they holding that sentence true: 
That easily then all excuse we admit,  
When Love of blame, is worthy thought and fit.   
But the Lady Syluia Villa, whose turn it was now to speak by propounding her doubt, caused silence: and her question was, whether long distance and separation increaseth or diminisheth love. That distance increaseth love (answered Gui rino) is very conformable to reason, by how much the want is greater, by so much the more is desire augmented: The Lover therefore by reason of separation, being more destitute of union, causeth his amorous desire to be the greater, or at least impaireth it not at all. As Petrarch affirmeth in the last Terzetto, when time and place before mine eyes I set, saying.  
That sun which on mine eyes alone doth shine,  
With splendent beams doth scorch me often time,  
Being the same at night, 'twas early in the morn,  
Which far off doth me burn, with grief, and eke with scorn.  
And fresh in memory, each hour doth represent,  
The knot, the time, the place of my most fond intent.  
Here Petrarch showeth that his being in Italy far from Laura, did not extenuate his love, in that the beauty thereof burned so much the more ardently, and remained always the more fresh in memory, and confirmed. Notwithstanding I (most famous Lady) to resolve this doubt, make this arbitrement, that if this separation be but for short time, it doth not diminish, but rather increase love, through the hope of sudden return: but if it be for any long time or continuance, it doth not only impair, but utterly extinguish love, which is plainly manifested by this reason: for by what mean love is procured, by the self same it is preserved. Love therefore having production in man's heart, by mean of the eyes and sight, we may with good reason conclude, that the sight of his dear beloved, is that, which sweetly nourisheth love: and therefore we see, that one nor other thing, lovers are more ententive, then to behold their affected: whereas by great distant separation, the food and nourishment of love failing, of necessity pining away through want, he must needs be weakened, and in the end perish. The Lady Syluia remained satisfied, and Madam Camilla Costabile peceruing all the company to expect her proposition, without further delay, moved this question: whether jealousy were a token of great love. When, Guirino replied, it seemeth noble Lady, that jealousy is a sign of special love, for we usually say, that whoso greatly loveth, he is not without fear, jealousy being no other but a marvelous fear, as before we affirmed. To resolve therefore this doubt, I say that the heart of him greatly enamoured, is the proper subject of this most bitter passion, which we term jealousy, yet doth it not so presently take impression, which is a manifest sign, that the great heat then beginneth to qualify: and when jealousy proceedeth so far that hope remaineth dead, by the victory fear hath obtained, then that so fervent love, inclining by little and little towards his contrary, is transformed into hatred and disdain. jealousy therefore is a sign of affectionate love past, & slender affection present. This answer pleased the Lady Camilla. And the Queen beckoned to the Lady countess of Sala, that she should move her scruple: This most beautiful, and in all her actions and gestures most gracious Lady, besides her other rare qualities, is so ready of utterance, and full of ingenious conceits, that she procureth the astonishment of all them that behold, or attend her. After she had therefore paused a while, she spoke in this sors. You have defined love to be no other but a desire of union; if this were true, it would likewise follow, that in things beloved, after the union and possession of beauty, love should rest extinguished: for where there is no want, there can be no desire, and yet experience teacheth the contrary, that after enjoyance of the beloved, we yet in love make further progression. My question therefore shall be, whether after possession of beauty, love remaineth extinguished.  
This doubt (most excellent lady, is of no small importance) answered Guirino) because it dissenteth from reason, that we should desire the things we have already in our power. Notwithstanding I would affirm, (always excepting better judgement) that love may be maintained living in two wants, the one is in the wanto of simple union, & the other in want of union perpetual: after enjoyance of beauty, the first want of simple union ceaseth, and then arifeth the want of perpetual union, for when we enjoy a thing present, yet are we by and by in want, of that which is to come, which want is of force, to maintain living this desire, that we term Love: and therefore in that State, love is no other but a desire of perpetual enjoying the thing beloved. With this excellent distinction Guirino satisfied the Lady Countess and all the standers by: when the Lady Camilla Bevelacqua cast out her doubt after this manner: In the definition of Love, you affirmed, that it sprung from the knowledge of Beauty: this in my judgement bringeth with it some difficulty, in that we see by experience, that some contemning the thing truly beautiful, grow enamoured with that, which to all others seemeth deformed and odious, therefore necessarily you must affirm, that either deformity to another may seem beauty, or else that not always beauty, but deformity also sometimes, may be the mother of love: clear therefore unto me this doubt, that your desinition remain not unperfect. As things material and corruptible, fair Lady, answered Guirino, can never be so beautiful, as that in them some defect may not be discovered, so do they never carry with them such deformity, that some steps of beauty may not appear, for the evil disposition of matter cannot so greatly resist the Ideall form and reason, but that in it the excellency of the divine artificer will discover itself. They therefore, which unto many seem deformed, are never without some beautiful point, which being never so little, when it shall be conformable to another's nature, in such a one will it be of such force to stir up Love, and there is no doubt but our minds, as in the rest, so also in love, are very divers, and therefore some are enamoured with a beautiful mouth, and sweet smiling countenance, others with a fair breast, or ivory neck, some with delicate and white hands, others with the breath and comely grace, or some other hidden beauty in a woman: who no sooner bait their wings on this loving limetwigge, but blind in all other deformities of their beloved, beholding only that part wherewith their mind is contented, they deem their own mistress of all other most worthy, to be beloved and served: and so likewise, the least blemish in any fair woman may prevail so far in his mind, unto whose nature and disposition it shall be disproportionable and displeasing, as contemning all other perfections, he shall judge her unworthy of any man's love. This therefore is true, that love proceedeth from known beauty, because of deformity, hatred, and of beauty, love is the legitimate of spring.  
This answer was commended: and the Lady Leonora Sacrati further replied: tell me signor Guirino, if love be the self same with desire, why doth your definitions, lately delivered, call it in question, and yet Leon the jew in his third dialogue of love, saith, that love is no other but a desire, which is also conformable to experience, seeing we love because we desire, and desire because we love. Leon the jew, a man questionless of quick and excellent wit, answered Guirino, hath in this committed an error as one that contradicteth himself in the first Dialogue, wherein he distinguisheth love from desire: but to resolve your doubt, I aver, that if we consider love as an affection, it is as different from desire, as the beginning from the midst: seeing love is that sudden and first motion, which groweth in man's mind through apprehension of conformable beauty, which without consent of hope, disturbeth that mind, and altering the heart and desire grounded upon hope, followeth love, it being a mean to attain to the end, which is union with beauty. Notwithstanding, love is taken for desire, because after the first motion it is transformed into desire, and then it is true that we love, because we desire, and desire, because we love. The L. Leonora replied no further: but Madam Tarquinia Molza: It seemeth, added she, that this your conclusion is contrary to the Philosopher, for he in his politics saith thus, that none can love, except he first be delighted with beauty, and he thus delighted in beauty, loveth not suddenly, but then loveth, when he desireth, the thing beloved being absent, and hath to it as great a zeal being present.  
Our of these words we collect, that desire precedeth and followeth not love We must observe (learned Lady) (answered Guirino) that the Philosopher speaketh not of love in this place, as it is a perturbation, and that first motion by us before spoken of: but intendeth it by loving action, desirous to infer, that the Lover is not brought to such act, before Love be resolved into a desire of the thing beloved; and this is so far from being contrary, as that it is conformable to all our pofitions. The Lady Tarquinia highly commended this clear explication of Aristotle's words, and using no further speech, the Lady Victoria Tassona propounded her doubt after this sort. Hitherto you have discoursed of love, we giving attention, not knowing as yet, whether love be a good or discommendable thing, when notwithstanding this most principally should be taught: for all our desires and actions being moved from the knowledge of good and evil, we flying always known evil, and following the good: who is he that would not avoid love, if he thought it wicked, or would not follow it, esteeming it good: resolve me therefore of this doubt, whether love be good or wicked. Petrarch wittily disputeth, (answered Guirino) upon this problem, in the Song, 
That my old Lord, Wicked, though sweet he seem,  
Made to appear before the Queen on high:  
Whom of our parts divine, men governess do deem,  
Having her seat above the lofty azured sky.   
Where he feigning to cite love, before the tribunal of reason, accuseth him as wicked and perverse: and love defendeth himself; in the end of which conflict, reason having heard, both the one and other part, leaveth the controversy undecided, saying: 
Suffice it; that to your complaints,  
I have attended well:  
But yet more time this strife requires,  
Allerrour to repel.   
Notwithstanding the reasons are not of light importance, by which our minds should be induced to believe, that love is a wicked thing. First, in that it is an exceeding perturbation of our mind; and perturbations being contrary to tranquillity, which is one of the principallest conditions of human felicity, being good of itself, and to be desired, and therefore of necessity all those of themselves are wicked and odious: secondly, because he depriveth us of liberty: thirdly, for that further he contending with reason, avoideth all good operations: As Petrarch affirmeth, complaining himself, of love, in the third Stanza of this underwritten Sonnet, saying: 
These have me made less for to love my God,  
Then that I ought, and less myself also,  
One woman hath me scourged with this rod,  
That equally, all thoughts procure me woe.   
And a little more underneath, 
Thus am I now dispoilde of my sweet liberty,  
By my most cruel foe, whom I accuse and fly.   
And in the triumph of love: 
Of us I will now speak, and first of that great man,  
That of our life and liberty despoil us can,  
The same whom all the world calls Love, as I do learn:  
But bitter, as you see, and better shall discern,  
If of your quiet thoughts, he prove the sovereign sire,  
As in our hearts his thoughts do kindle burning fire.   
And further, love is a cause, that losing ourselves, we are transformed into another, as Petrarch affirmeth of himself in the Song by me cited.  
These two have me transformed into the state you see,  
Of me, a living man, making a Laurel tree,  
Which planted in cold ground, without leaves cannot be.  
And in the third chapter of love: 
Of my great enemy the path I searched out,  
And seeking her to find, I was transformed throughout:  
As lover to be loved, possessed out of doubt.   
Ariosto also supposeth, that Love, for the most part, is a wicked thing, when he saith: 
Love we do not therefore so wicked always find,  
But that sometimes he helps, aswell as hurts the mind.   
Notwithstanding most gente Lady, I am of a contrary opinion, and hold, that love is a most excellent thing, and necessary to a good and happy life: but I understand not this by bestial love: For this undoubtedly is wicked, and that which depriveth of liberty, and avoideth all good operations, there being no greater servitude than sin: and this peradventure Petrarch understood when he said:  These have me caused less to love my God, 
But speaking of other sorts of love, all are good, and profitable to a man: and coming to the first, which for his excellency, is called divine love: this is most excellent, in that being a desire of unition, with the thing beautiful, as the true Image of Divinity, by mean of human creature, it lifteth up the mind to love beauty, and is inflamed with incredible love towards his Creator. Neither can that love be termed wicked, which bursteth out into desire, of generating by honest mean, the thing beautiful, in that being joined with a desire of eternity, of all other, it procureth the greatest good to mankind. But what shall we say of the other kind of love, placed in the second degree of temperance? may we peradventure affirm it wicked, seeing far from all brutish action, in the contemplation of beauty only, and reciprocal affection of his dear beloved he contents himself? This is that perfect degree of love, which inflameth the hearts of men to glorious enterprises. Wherefore Petrarch calling to mind his error, in this Sonnet under all cadged, when he so rashly indignified Love, in the sixth Stanza, and also in the rest of the Sonnet he feigneth himself by love, taxed of ingratitude, saying: 
My mortal foe, with bitter frumps assays,  
But, woman, mark the other part, always:  
Which shall the truth declare with faithful heart,  
How thus ingrate, this man came to departed:  
In youth he did apply, himself to selling  
Words wholly vain, and lies eke eftsoons telling:  
And as it seems, he was no whit ashamed:  
Moved by this mean, to make me eke be blamed,  
With my delight, which doth most pure remain  
From his desire, which would me gladly stain:  
And in sweet life, which he vexation calls  
Some follies to lament, he freshly falls,  
When by my help, he glorious doth remain,  
Which of himself, he never could attain.   
And a little afterwards in the same Song: 
Under my wings I did him so convoy,  
That Knights and Ladies in his speech took joy,  
And afterwards him to that fame did bring,  
As that 'mongst ripest wits his name did ring:  
And of his words, conseruaes they did make,  
Who in his speech so great delight did take:  
Though now in court some sycophant he be,  
Or with the vulgar sort in base degree.   
And in the last Stanza saving one, he affirmeth that this love is acceptable to God and men.  
Never was nightly dream, so fond and vain,  
As that opinion, which he doth retain  
Of us: whom now he perfectly doth know  
Favoured of God above, and men below:  
This lofty sire, for this laments Itrow.  
We will conclude therefore, that love is a good and sweet thing: and more, whosoever findeth not himself inveigled with some of these loving snares, is but a sottish man, and of the common sort. It remaineth that I answer the contrary arguments, for better understanding: Be it therefore known unto you, that the perturbations and affections of the mind, are no other but sudden and forcible motions of the concupiscent & angry faculties stirred up by the knowledge of things delightful or noisome, as I have said, these being procured by Nature herself, who doth nothing in vain, or which is not conformable to divine providence, and therefore cannot be said to be wicked; for that were no other than to reprehend God, and Nature herself, who gave unto man the virtue of the angry and concupiscent faculties: affections therefore in themselves, are rather good and necessary to the creatures and man, than wicked; for without them, the parts individual, and kind, could not be preserved, considering that these move the creature to action, yet may they be wicked in a man, when resolving into desire, they obey not reason, for than they become brutish: wherefore affections touching man, may be compared to a horse, who bridled, is very good and profitable, but hurtful without bit; because easily he carrieth the rider away headlong, affections being greater benefit to man, then to other unreasonable creatures: for man without affections, should be also without virtue, virtue being no other, than an habit, imprinted in our angry & concupiscent faculties, by mean of which all other affections are easily reduced to mediocrity, and therefore, as S. Augustine saith, to a Christian, concupiscence and anger be necessary, to stir up temperance, continence, tolerance, and fortitude. And the same Saint in the fourteenth book of the city of God affirmeth, that affections agree well, with the beloved of God; saying: that the Citizens of the holy city, who live according to God, in the pilgrimage of this life, do fear, are angry, desirous, sad, and merry: but because in these, love hath a good ordination, in them all these perturbations are moderate and good: whereupon that shrill Trumpet of truth said: be angry, but sin not: to which opinion conforming myself, I also say; love Oyee gentle young men, and be enamoured you fair, and most gracious Ladies, for love is a good thing; but sin not. This excellent conclusion, was with great contentment, especially of the vong gentlemen accepted and praised: but after their whisperings were somewhat ceased, the Lady Countess Tieni, a woman of most lofty conceit, whose turn it was to propound, bethinking herself a little. At last: I would willingly know said she, whether the beloved, be bound to reciprocation in love, and by what reason: if we enter into consideration of loves definition, which you signor Guirino have made, this seemeth an Injunction, not only of courtesy, but also of necessity. For that secret conformity of nature, which is between the lover and the beloved, as it forceth him enamoured to love, so ought it to urge in her affected, an answerable love. For besides that (crediting me) things of conformable nature, should have a conformable desire, and inclination. Yet further, if we attribute any thing to Dant a Poet of great authority, we will be ready to affirm that Love is so just a Lord, that he exempteth none beloved fro loving, but with his mighty power, and burning firebrands he inflameth the hearts of all them beloved, with love mutual towards their lovers. Notwithstanding how may we credit this, beholding the tears and hot sighs of these enamoured young Gentlemen, who show manifest tokens of the cruelty of their ingrateful Mistresses? Put me therefore out of this doubt. Ariosto and Petrarch were of contrary opinion to Dant, answered Guirino, who in divers places affirm, that Love doth not force and bind the beloved to affect; but on the contrary, seldom are the desires of her beloved, correspondent to those of her lover: and therefore Ariosto complaining himself, saith: 
Wherefore doth Love unjust, so seldom frame our will,  
To answer him with love, with love whom we do kill,  
Perfidious wretch, from whence doth it proceed,  
That thou with discordance, two several hearts dost feed?   
And a little after: 
Why dost thou laugh and joy, feed, and maintain thy life:  
Procuring from the eyes, fountains of tears by strife.   
And Petrarch maketh the subject, of one part of his Sonnets and Songs, sometimes of the cruelty and ingratitude of his Laura, otherwhiles of the treachery of love, and especially in the Sonnet, There was a day when sun obscured dark:  
Saying in the last Terzetto: 
Love me (alas) unarmed, altogether found,  
And  did make the way, by eyes, my heart to kill,  
When I transfixed by his grievous mortal wound,  
Made of my eyes wet fords, from whence tears did distill  
Yet as I think by that, he little honour gained,  
Wounding me in such state, wherein I was detained,  
You armed, not his bow, once to behold constrained.   
And in the Sonnet by me cited, he saith, speaking of love: 
This cruel boy market well of whom I now complain,  
That until then my garments only did remain,  
Hit with his dart: he therefore in his wily snare  
almighty Dame did catch, when she was unaware,  
With whom I never could, or ever can prevail,  
By force, wit, penitence, but with these three do fail.   
And in the third Stanza of the Sonnet which beginneth: In time when heavens are furiously inclined,  
He saith: 
Ah cruel Love, that dost me thus enforce,  
Of this wild beast, causer of my remorse,  
The voice to follow, pace, and eke the path,  
When she unbound, doth fly far from thy wrath.   
For absolution therefore of this doubt, I say that the natural conformity which is between the lover and beloved, is a conformity between the object and forcible power, for the beloved with her beauty, concurreth as object, and there is but seldom conformity between the one and others power: And therefore it may easily fall out, that the beauty of the affected may be apt and conformable, to move the mind of the Lover, when in very deed the beauty of the Lover, shall not have the like conformity in the mind of the beloved, or be prevalent to kindle in her amorous passion. For this cause the Poets feigned, that Love had two sorts of darts, that is some gilded, and others of lead, and that those gilded had power to inflame, & those of lead to congeal & freeze: as also that he pierced lovers with his golden shafts, when the beloved, were for the most part stricken with the leaden ones, and therefore Petrarch willing to clear himself, sweareth saying: 
If I may say so much, Love with his golden dart  
Chargeth on me, when those of lead, fall to her part.   
Notwithstanding she beloved, is bound by election, perceiving the loyal and faithful service of her servant, to return the like mutual affection, which not doing, she falleth into the error of ingratitude, in that she beloved receiveth secret honour and commendation, by this affection of her lover, she showing in that most notable perfection, & such, as that it urgeth him to be enamoured, to love and serve her, and so much the more she must hold herself bound, if she perceive herself beloved with one of those kinds of love before rehearsed: for if she observe herself affected with this brutish and sordid love, she is no ways bound to answerable affection, neither for this shall she be deemed ingrate, but rather in hating such a lover, she deserveth praise and commendation. The Lady Countess replied no further: And Madam Camilla Mosti propounded her doubt, which was, whether it were better to love or be beloved. That to love is better (answered Guirino) may be affirmed by the Philosopher's authority, for to love is action, and with some contentment, being good, but from the beloved there proceedeth no action: and moreoner it is better to know then be known, and the Lover knoweth, but she affected as having love made to her, may be deprived of knowledge, and therefore things without life may be beloved, but never love: finally, the lover in loving, exerciseth the work of charity, which doth not the beloved: And therefore the Philosopher affirmeth, that to delight in loving rather than to be beloved, is a more commendable thing, and a sign of greater excellency in good custom and fashion. On the other side, it seemeth, that to be beloved is greater perfection; for to love, being the same as to desire, proveth want of perfection in the lover, wherein she beloved doth abound: and further, by how much the final cause is more perfect than the efficient so much doth the beloved exceed in perfection the lover, in that she affected concurreth as the loving and desired end, and the lover is procured to love, in favour of her affected, or to receive from her some perfection. Now clearing this doubt, I say, that this word to love, may be interpreted in two senses; one is, to desire unition with the thing beloved, to the end to obtain perfection from it; the other, in desiring to give unto the thing beloved some perfection. In the first sense, as riches is better than poverty, so is it better to be beloved than affect.  
And in this manner are the kinds of human love fet down by me; for the lover seeketh union with the beloved, to obtain perfection from her beauty, where of he hath want. After this sort likewise doth the creature love his Creator, seeking unition with him, for to participate of his perfection. In the second sense, it is a thing much more excellent to love, than be beloved: for in the lover we suppose plenty, and in the beloved penury. With this love God loveth the creature, and desireth to unite it with his divine Majesty, to reach unto it full perfection. With this love the Prince loveth his subjects, and the greater his inferior, to give and not receive perfection.  
Out of this we have spoken, you (most honourable Lady) shall gather this singular conclusion, that all loves have their original from abundance or defect, as the divine Philosopher affirmeth in his Conuivio, and in his book called Lyside, feigning that Poro, which signifieth riches, is the father, and Penia, which importeth poverty, is the mother of love. For love springeth either from the penury of the Lover, or wealth of the beloved, or from want in the beloved, and superaboundance in the Lover. The Lady Camilla commended the answer, and all the other Gentlewomen, wishing within themselves, to be rather rich affected, then poor enamoured. The Lady Lucretia Machiavella propounded this excellent question: whether is more fervent, the love of a man towards a woman, or of a woman towards a man?  
Most gentle Lady answered Guirino, the reasons are not of small moment, by which we may conclude, that women exceed in love, whereof the first is perfection, which women receive from unition with man, as by the Philosopher it is confirmed, where he entreateth of universal beginnings of things natural: who desirous to show the great desire, the first matter hath of unition with form, saith, that she desireth form, as the female desireth the male: and this is in no other respect, but because matter requireth perfection from form, as doth the female from the male. Woman therefore attaining perfection from man, and not man from woman, so amorous desire in her is more eminent than that in man. But further, if we shall but consider the proper subject and abode of love, we shall find that it is in soft and delicate hearts, the which continually are nourished with sweet and pleasing cogitations, as divine Petrarch here testifieth, speaking of loves original, when he saith: 
From idle mind, and want oneness human  
He springs: nourished with thoughts, though sweet, yet vain,  
And of vain folk, doth Lord and God remain.   
Women therefore being naturally soft, delicate, and usually idle, being nourished with sweet and pleasant cogitations: and on the contrary, men being stern, and for the most part, entangled in serious meditations, we may conclude, that love taking greater nourishment in the heart of a woman, becometh also more prevalent and vigorous. Although I, notwithstanding these reasons, do hold the contrary for truth, and that amorous passion is much more vehement in man then in woman: and I am moved thereto by this most probable supposition, that the more prevalent cause, bringeth forth the more forcible effect. The beauty then of woman being far more excellent than that of man, as signor Patritio yester day showed: and beauty being the cause which produceth love, it will follow, that the beauty of a woman shall bring forth in man's heart amorous affection: much more ardently, then shall the beauty of a man, in the heart of a woman: and therefore reason willeth, that the name of beloved be attributed to the woman, and the name of Lover to man, being proper to a woman (and reward of her beauty) to be belouèd and served of man, man's property consisting in loving and serving her, as his natural mistress. That this is true, experience teacheth, for a woman seldom pricked forward with a morous affection, is moved to love a man, or if she loveth, she doth it but to avoid the vice of ingratitude, knowing herself to be beloved, and faithfully served.  
It is no marvel then, if in the heart of a Woman, this fire being always so slenderly kindled, it is in possibility by every blast of disdain, to be extinguished, and that she is so apt to change, will, and mind. Answeting therefore, unto the contrary reasons, and first to the authority of the Philosopher, I say it is true, that the first matter desireth form as the female the male. For as the female, which in this respect representeth Nature, desireth the male, not for her own perfection, because she is most perfect, but for the conservation of her proper kind, and for general perfection, so matter desireth not form for her perfection, because she in her own essence is perfect enough: neither being matter, hath it need of form, but she desireth the union of form, for general perfection, to the end this composition might be made. To the other reason I answer, that the heart of women is far more soft and delicate then is man's, and she is idle, nourished with sweet and pleasant cogitations, but I deny these to be the principal harbourers of amorous passions, although indeed they be easy and plaint subjects of compassion. For the tender and gentle heart of a woman not being able to endure the fervent sighs, tears, and lamentations of her faithful Lover, is procured to satisfy him with mutual affection, by compassion rather subdued, then amorous passion.  
I doubt signor Guirino, replied the Lady Machiavella, that you have rather procured yourself diminution, than attribution of our favour, your demerit deserving the one so much more above the bond wherein we are tied to render the other, as the meanest blame you have imputed unto us, exceedeth the uncertain commendation mixed therewithal: and truly this is a new kind of reprehension, when under praise lieth hidden depravation: but who knoweth not that under commendation of our beauty, you have privily expressed the rebuke of tyranny? and by showing how we become lovers by election, you have made us as it were altogether rebellious to love. But which is worse, you have described us for flitting & inconstant, which blame undoubtedly doth so far exceed the praise of compassion, as the vice of infidelity surmounteth the natural virtue of piety: & all is untrue: for we are not tyrannous, nor rebellious fro love, but loving, more constant and faithful than men. You Lady, answered Guirino, have interpreted my words in sinister sense, for the commendation is true and properly belonging to you, and the blame is uncertain, and not by your fault. I confess, that under the name of your beauty I have expressed tyranny, conforming myself with Socrates, who was wont to say (speaking of human beauty) that she was a tyrant that reigned but a small time. This most wise Philosopher, desirous to infer, that beauty in the manner of a tyrant, doth violently dovoure and draw unto herself all those minds, which may comprehend her, exercising over them all, tyrannical empire. Therefore you can not avoid, but being fair, you must also be tyrants, neither can this be ascribed unto you for discommendation, seeing it is a particular privilege granted unto you from God and nature, to the end that by mean of love, you might by authority by us men, be loved and served. This secret and natural vice of tyranny which is in you, have I yet after such a sort tempered with piety, that it should not seem grievous unto you, to be called Tyrants by nature, and gracious Queens by election; neither have I made you altogether rebellious to love, though I have attributed unto you rather the name of beloved than loving, having also showed that it is greater perfection to be beloved, than love: and notwithstanding it is true that you are ready to change your will and mind, this is in you rather a virtue than vice, being a manifest sign, that amorous affection can not prevail so far with you, but just disdain may much more, neither do you make yourselves so servile, but that still you reserve your princely authority, which neither can nor will support the least contempt: and yourself (Lady) giveth here of ample testimony, who not for any offence, but upon suspicion, that amongst divers praises of women, I had sowed some little seed of blame, all angry on a sudden, have changed your mind and opinion towards me, declaring me, not only unworthy of your own favour, but also of the gracious respect of all these ladies: Notwithstàding confident in my innocency, and in their just and merciful authority, I live in hope, that more than ever heretofore they will grace me with their favour.  
This playsted (answered the Lady Machiavella,) will not a whit mollify the impostume of my just wrath: for I affirm it is false, that we women are tyrants or rebellious to Love, being certain, that in loving we are more faithful and constant than men, which you also would confess, if you were not of a malignant mind: seeing fidelity and constancy themselves be of the Feminine, and not of the Masculine gender. All the standers by, smiled at this replication, and the Lady Victoria Bentivoglia, whose beauty the Graces themselves accompany, said.  
You signor Guirino, have beer by the authority of Petrarch confirmed, that the lover transformeth himself into the beloved, of which I am very doubtful, as not being able to imagine, what manner of transformation this should be, neither will I be so foolish to believe that Petrarch after the manner of Daphne, transformed himself into Laura. I am desirous therefore, that you would verify unto me your saying, manifesting unto me, how it may be that the lover should be transformed into the beloved. When Guirino answered: your desire is noble (most gentle Lady) wherein to satisfy you, it is necessary that I discover some secrets, which to the Philosophers are only known. You shall therefore understand, that we cannot perceive before the instrument of sense, be first made like to the thing perceived. Which similitude notwithstanding, is neither real nor material, but we call it Spiritual and immaterial: as for example, I cannot perceive or see your fair and gracious form, if first mine eyes (the sensible instrument of sight) do not so draw it into itself, as that it becometh like to the same.  
Notwithstanding, you (fair Lady) beholding in mine eyes, may see your goodly shape, as in a most clear glass: For between the glass and the eye there is no further difference, but that the glass is an eye without life, and the eye is a living glass. Now this your beautiful Image, is transported, by mean of the most subtle vital spirits, and imprinted in the inward organ, that is, the intrinsicate part of the brain, which also becometh like unto her, and from thence received into my soul, my soul herself taketh of you the whole similitude, so that we may say, that while I see and behold youpresent, my soul wholly transfigured into you, is no other but the true portraiture of yourself.  
This which by proof is verified in exterior sense, is also as true in sense interior, which is that virtue of the sensitive faculty, called fantasy, or imagination, which is of force to contemplate and perceive objects, although they be absent, by those imaginations which remain imprinted in the interior organ or member: whensoever therefore our soul imagineth any thing, she becometh like unto it, and further, spiritally transformeth herself into the thing imagined: the same that happeneth to sense, falleth out likewise to understanding, understanding being in a manner altogether like to sense: for while the understanding conceiveth and beholdeth anything, it is transformed into it, and becometh the same: and therefore happy are those, who employ the beautiful gift of the mind, to contemplate divine and high things; for in that state, they become diumitie itself. By this which I have expounded unto you (most honourable Lady) you may easily comprehend the transformation of the lover into the beloved. For it is not a real, but a spiritual transformation: For the true lover bearing always the representation of the beloved imprinted in his soul, and never aiming his thoughts, but towards his beloved object, in that state he cometh to be transformed into it. Whereupon the divine Philosopher in his Conuivio, describing the force of Love, saith, that Love, with such a strong knot knitteth lovers together, that of two he maketh one alone, willing to infer, that those, who absolutely give themselves over in prey to amorous passions, are after such a sort ententive on their loving cogitations, as it may be affirmed, that the soul disjoined from the body, liveth in the beloved: & therefore no marvel, though the bodies of Lovers deprived of vital vigour, do consume and languish: The which here Petrarch averreth of himself, in these Terzetti of this Sonnet: At every pace I turn myself about, saying: 
Sometimes amidst my mournings sad and dull,  
A doubt ariseth how these members can  
Live, so remote from spirit, wonderful:  
But answered Love, remember'st not thou, man,  
That this is privileged to lovers art,  
From other qualities human, apart.   
With this answer the Ladies and Knights remained very well satisfied, who expected with great desire to understand▪ this marvelous Metainorphosis. And his Mistress Lucretia Calcagnina, a Matron, adorned with all gentle fashion, made her doubt in this sort. It happeneth oftentimes, that after a long and cold conversation bet wixt man and woman, in the end either one with the other, or both of them are inflamed with love reciprocal, the which as it is true, so bringeth it that into doubt by you spoken, that the Lover is presently enamoured, as conformable beauty discovereth itself unto him: for I would reason thus: either that the beauty so often contemplated▪ is to the Lover conformable, or not, if it be conformable, wherefore doth it not in a moment cause love? but if there be no such conformity, how can it procure this after long time? clear me this doubt. When Guirino: Two manner of ways gracious Lady, may your doubt be resolved. First I allege, that in divers respects, how long soever their conversation be, it may happen, that to the Lover those beauties may be concealed which were more apt to enamour him, seeing a fine foot, a beautiful leg, a fair arm, a quick and lively gate, or other excellencies of the body hitherto covered, & suddenly or by chance perceived, may kindle amorous flames: I will also affirm, that not only the singularities of body, but those of the mind also, may procure love: and because these do not so suddenly discover themselves, to the eye of the soul, which is the reasonable part, and that by little and little, with long observation seethe and beholdeth, therefore not so suddenly, but after long conversation, they enslame the lover, so soon as he knoweth them, and after he is inflamed, with that which before with his bodily eyes he saw, and was not there with contented, then with delight he rejoiceth and is glad: for as the beauty of the body is of force to conceal from the lover the defects of the mind, and to make them appear less weighty, so the perfections of the mind, after they have with sweet and honest contentment fastened on the lover, are of vigour to transform the deformities of the body beloved, and make it to the lover seem beautiful, or at least, not brutish.  
This answer was taken for sufficient, when the Lady Countess of Sala, I would willingly know said she, whether a lover at one time may love two mistresses: and this my question ariseth, in having seen divers times by experience, that they are seldom lovers, who are content with one love alone. No servant (most honourable Lady (answered Guirino) can serve two Masters, neither can one Lover at the same instant, serve more than one inistris, which by many reasons is manifest: And first because the beauty of two subjects is either equal, or else we discover the difference of more or less: If they be equal, neither of the one nor of the other can he become loving: for finally, love being no other but desire, and desire of it self being undetermined, it is necessary, that placed between two objects, it should be determined by the better, or the worse, by the more beautiful, or more deformed, other wise it would be always immovable: and therefore john Baccone a Philosopher, and most learned divine, was wont to say, that if the horse were in away equally distant from two barley fields of like goodness, he should be in danger to die for hunger, for his appetite would not be moved more to the one then to the other corn. He therefore, who were in the presence of two women, equally fair, not being able to bend his desire, moved through knowledge of sense, more to the one than the other, should rest immovable, and consequently, would love neither the one, nor the other: but if there were a difference of more & less, desire inclining itself, would be inflamed with the more beautiful, and the other should take no place: but further, if the Lover transformeth himself into the beloved, as before we said, not being able to transform himself into two, but into one subject only, so shall he be able to love but one subject alone: to conclude, as that which hath taken place within, is an impediment to the other, but exterior, which would surprise him: so that object which shall have taken the possession of the lovers heart, will forbid any other that attempteth to pierce thereinto: the which Petrarch showeth in divers places, to be true in himself, and principally in the Sonnet: Athousand times sweet warlike mistress mine.  
Speaking of his heart, now possessed by his Laura, saith: 
And if in him some other mistress hope,  
In vain it is: when mind hath no such scope.   
And in the sonnet: Shaming sometimes, although she hold her peace:  
Saith: 
Calling to mind the day, when first I did thee see:  
For never will there one, to me so pleasing be.   
And in the sonnet: Full of that sweet, unspeakable delight:  
He saith: 
This custom hath so crept into my mind,  
Her to behold, whom I so glorious find:  
That any other, if I chance to see,  
This custom makes her odious seem to me.   
And in the sonnet: Seeing that for my hire, this way is me debarred:  
He faith: 
And to one Image I addicted was,  
Which Zeuxis did not make nor Phydias,  
Nor yet Praxiteles who caru'de so well,  
But one for art that did them all excel.   
Touching experience of those lovers, which are not contented with one love alone, it is altogether false, because they are no true Lovers but treacherous rebels to love, as those, who carried away with a furious storm of lust, fancy rather bestial, then human love. the answer pleased the Lady Countess, and all the other Gentlewomen. But Madam Syluia Villa, a young damozel of most beautiful and gentle presence, seeing you conclude, said she, that a Lover cannot love two Mistresses, show me also if one beloved of two several friends, to avoid ingratitude, aught to content both Lovers with intercourse of affection? From the former conclusion answered Guirino, proceedeth the absolution of this present doubt. For the beloved, not being able to perform correspondency in love, except she also become enamoured, and it being in the lovers power to affect but one subject, she can love and favour but one alone; for doing otherwise, she shall not only, not avoid the vice of ingratitude, but defrauding the first lover, of his part in that whole, which is his in all reason, shallbe most unthankful. The Lady Syluia commended this answer, when Madam Anne Strozza, a Matron, whose favour is accompanied, with modest affability, propounded after this manner: Men enamoured amongst many words, which they utter, intermixed with tears and sighs, they are wont to their beloved, with oath to affirm, that they affect them above themselves: on which words, having many times mused, I ever found myself in greater doubt than before, neither can I be resolved whether it may be true, that the lovers affection towards his Mistress, is greater, then to his own self. Tell me therefore signor Guirino your opinion. It is requisite answered Guirino: before I resolve you, that you most noble Lady be advertised, that doubt hath no place in the love, whereof we have entreated, which is a desire of union, and supposeth indigence of the thing beloved, for with this love towards ourselves we cannot be affected, notwithstanding the fable of Narcissus, first because union presupposeth two at the least, secondly because of ourselves we can have no want. Therefore your demand hath place in that love, which we term good will, which is no other, but a desire of giving, or seeing perfection in some subject; touching which we have to consider, that all loves have original from the affection towards ourselves, the which is such, and so great, that all things created contend ever to work in favour of themselves, and he that should further say, that the creator fashioned the world for no other cause, but to please himself, should not speak much amiss, which being true as it is, how vain are the words of flattering lovers, when they affirm that they love their mistresses better than themselves: But because there is no lie so great, as in it there may not appear some shadow of truth, it may so happen, that the lover desireth some sort of human good more in his mistress, then in himself, as riches, honour, and such like, and in this sense it may be true, that he could wish better to his beloved, then to himself. But he desireth such good to please himself, it cannot therefore be said, that he loveth his mistress better than himself. But we see by experience replied Lady Anne, that some lovers deprived of the hope of their beloved, have also suffered the privation of life, and we read that the faithful wife of Ametus, refused not to offer herself to voluntary death for the love of her husband: which is a manifest sign, that the lover may affect his beloved above himself. And if we may credit Petrarch, it may be said, that the lover may not only love his mistress above himself, but hating himself, may plant all his affection in her: as he affirmeth of himself in the sonnet, 
I find no peace: saying:  
Myself I hate, and love an other best.  Be assured (noble Lady) answered Guirino, that violent killers of themselves, do that for no other end, but in a love to their own persons, and to please themselves, being of opinion, that death should be to them as an ease, of some insupportible grief: and the wife of Ametus (supposing the fable to be true) without doubt performed that loving offer, in favour of herself, either as desirous of glory, or to avoid the sorrow which by the death of her husband, she thought in herself insupportable: neither want there examples of men most studious of glory, who to acquire immortal fame unto themselves, have embraced voluntary death as we read of Curtius, of the Deccis, of Attilius Regulus, and other noble Romans', whose attempts out of doubt were undertaken, more for their own contentment, then for love of their country. So that I think there is not so simple a woman, which believeth such vain words, produced by Lovers for their own contentment, and by such like dissimulations, to obtain reciprocal affection, from their affected. This opinion of Guirino was by the gentlewomen approved true, not without some secret heartburning of the gentlemen enamoured: and never a gentlewoman remaining to propound any more questions, the Queen spoke after this sort: Although doubt is little befitting princely Majesty, being a manifest sign of ignorance, the which of all other defects in Princes is most reproachful, overcome notwithstanding with a natural desire of understanding, I desire it may be lawful for me, signor Guirino to demand of you, if in the Lover not beloved, love can long time endure. To doubt said Guirino, most renowned Queen; proceedeth rather from equality of contrary reason, then from ignorance: & to be circumspectly doubtful, may rather be ascribed to abundance, then want of knowledge: Your highness therefore in doubting, hath not only, not offended royal Majesty, but by moving a most excellent question, hath given trial of your noble conceit, and by favouring me, exercised your high and magnificent courtesy. Therefore before I answer your Majesty, I will declare the fable recited by most singular Themistius, in his sixth oration. The goddess Themis, saith he, being before Venus, who had brought forth Cupid, having highly commended the beauty of that winged child, added: sincere love may well be borne, but that he should grow by himself alone, understand O Venus, it can no ways be: Therefore if you desire that this your dear son, may increase to his proportionable greatness, beget and bring forth another like to him, for such will the nature of these two brothers be, that in beholding one another, both of them will grow alike, and look how much shall diminish in one, no less will there impair in the other. Venus' persuaded by this most wise goddess, produced Anterota Cupid's lawful brother. By this fable we may easily comprehend, that love alone cannot endure in the lovers heart, and for his maintenance and reduction, to his due stature, it is necessary, be behold, and sport with his brother Anterota. Yet, signor Guirino, experience teacheth the contrary, answered the Queen: for every day, we see divers enamoured, without having the least sign of interchangeable affection, obstinate altogether in amorous enterprise, & peradventure confident in the saying of Dant before repeated: By love, beloved, cake, from love, are not exempt.  
And Petrarch himself, though his Lauretta were froward and ingrate unto him, notwithstanding as an obstinate Lover, burst forth into these verses.  
Yet live I still in hope, remembering this always,  
That moistened drops, at length, though with some long delays,  
In tract of time do pierce, the free, and marble stone.  
And heart so hard none is, which will not strait way moan,  
Moved with unfeigned tears, and loves uncessant flame,  
Nor will so freezing cold, ' which heats not by the same.  
There be two sorts of Lovers not beloved again, answered Guirino, the one finding always in his Mistress, a pride correspondent to her beauty, without receiving at any time the least sign of love, but ever discovering in her countenance, a duskish cloud of disdain, he most unhappily loveth. In the heart of such a Lover (most renowned Queen) affections cannot continue, but giving place to wrath, anger, and disdain, flying away, it departeth, being unpossible, that it alone should wrestle long with reason, accompanied by these other most forcible affections. The other sort, seeing the brow of their dear beloved, sometimes fair, and sometimes cloudy, the Lover doubtful within himself, & feeding upon a sweet air of hope, affecting, serving, and entreating, maintaineth himself long time. Such a Lover was Petrarch, as he describeth himself in the verses recited to your highness, and in other songs and sonnets, but especially in the sonnet: 
I find no peace: saying:  
Prisoner I am, to such an one, as neither opes nor shuts:  
Nor holds me fast, nor yet the snare, with loves requital cuts.   
Guirinos' answer was of the Queen accepted, and by the standers by approved for good, it seeming to all impossible, that where hope cannot be settled, love should there make any long residence: and with this ending the discourse of love, the Queen commanded that they would practise some pleasant conceits of divination and fortune-telling, as amongst women they use to do: and while they were intentive on this pastime, the Duke, and Lady Duchess, privily entering into the palace, they suddenly caused to be put into the chamber, where this noble company were assembled a do, taken quick in the nets, which hopping here & there, leapt upon the Gentlewomen. Whereupon very fearful of this terrible creature, each one without tarrying for another, ran all out into the great Hall, whom the excellent Duchess meeting, with the other beautiful Huntresses, in a sudden their fear was turned into laughter: and after a while, the huntsmen arriving with a mighty wind of horns, and cry of dogs, his highness commanded, that the chase should be brought into the hall, which being done, there were many boars laid out, whereof some were so great, that the women durst not behold them. The rest of the day was spent in discoursing upon such accidents as fallen out in their Game, the gentlewomen taking no less contentment to hear of that, than did the Hunters in recounting their own exploits, in encountering and killing these terrible beasts. Evening being come, his highness caused a most pleasant Comedy to be recited by the Gelosi. These be certain Coemedians, who requested every year by his highness, are wont to come in the end of Autumn, and he taketh them along to the sea side, as also the whole Carnevale or Shrovetide, to their great gain, and contentment of all the City, they employ themselves in Comical representations, and are very apt in imitating all manner of persons and actions human, but especially those, which are fittest to procure laughter, in which point they are so prompt and excellent, that they would make Heraclitus himself to laugh. The Comedy ended, they practised certain pastimes, and being late, his highness rose up, and each one departed to their several lodgings. The day following was passed over by his highness in another pleasant and delightsome chase, in which they killed Hearts, and wild Goats, with other beasts, to the singular contentation of the Ladies and Gentlewomen which were present. At the self same time, the usual company being retired into the accustomed room, the Lady Camilla Costabili, was by chance, drawn Queen, a Matron of stately presence, and adorned with most gentle customs, who not to let slip the accustomed wont of entertaining the time, and judging that the entreaty of honour, would be delightsome and profitable to every noble spirit, in that honour many times is badly observed, by not knowing the nature thereof, therefore she commanded signor Gualenguo a gentleman, not only most skilful in handling his weapon, but also learned, and very judicial in things appertaining to honour and combat, who desirous to please the Queen, without other reply began in this manner.   

The third days discourse: Wherein is contained a discussion of Honour.  
A Most not able and eminent subject, doth our Queen this day propound to be entreated of, which is Honour, it being with human life in such sort connexed, that there is not any condition or quality of men, to whom the knowledge of honour is not commodious: but above all others, it is so necessary in a man noble and civil, as without it, being overshadowed, as it were with the obscure darkness of ignorance, for the most part, in steed of honour, he embraceth infamy. This is that ardent heat which inflameth the mind of man, to glorious enterprises making him audacious against enemies, and to vices timorous. And therefore Plato in his Phedro, compareth the mind of a man to a Chariot, whereof reason is the coach man, the affections of the mind the horses, & desire of honour the whip: The divine Philosopher minding to infer, that reason without honourable desire, and fear without reproach, are notable to bridle the most fierce passion, of the angry and concupiscent faculties, and to direct man to virtue. I will therefore endeavour myself, most famous Queen, to discourse of Honour, seeing your highness so commandeth me, although to myself I am not ignorant, that so high & excellent a subject, very far exceedeth the power of my wit, hoping these valorous knights, most faithful subjects to Honour, will be ready to supply my defects. Honour (excellent Queen) being above measure desired by man, it is a thing manifest, that in the number of human goods, some be appertaining to the body, as beauty, health, strength, agility; and some to the mind, as understanding, wisdom, knowledge, prudence, and art, as also other goods there be external belonging to fortune. Amidst these therefore, Honour, out of doubt, cannot be numbered amongst those goods, that appertain to the body or mind, but rather is accounted amongst them, in ourselves not resident; as are likewise riches, principality, power, friends, a fair and modest wife, children, nobility, and such like. universally therefore we will affirm, that honour is the most precious of all goods external. But because this word Honour signifieth not one alone, but two honours of divers nature in themselves, not being able to assign such a definition, as wherein both may be comprehended. I will divide them; and one (as a new forger of these words) I will term natural and imperfect; the other acquired honour, and perfect. By not conceiving that honours are of two kinds, & divers of themselves, & not one, all they which hitherto have entreated of Honour, have fallen into most manifest errors: and amongst other, the learned Bishop of Caserta, (provided, if it be true, that the book of Honour, set forth under the name of Posseviuo, were by him made, as of himself he affirmeth) is led into a most notable error; For he in the same book having defined honour, & wrong interpreted the fence of Aristotle, in his book of Rhetoric, after a long discourse, upon the same, he groundeth his combat; not observing, that combat is wholly contrary to the nature of that honour by him discussed and defined. At this time therefore, I not swerving from the order of nature, which is to go from the imperfect to the perfect, will first entreat of honour natural, and conclude in honour acquired: which is one of the principal circumstances of human felicity. I say therefore that honour natural, is a common opinion, that he honoured, hath never failed in justice, nor valour. I term it honour natural, because man bringeth it from his mother's womb, and preserveth it unspotted, except through some grievous offence or suspicion, he lose this good opinion. This was defined by Fausto Longiano in his Combat, to be no other than an incorruptible state of Nature, as though to possess this honour, it were sufficient to maintain ourselves, such as we were borne. This is that honour (most excellent Queen) whereof there is so great fame, and wherein there is not any one, which professeth not himself to have his part, as surely he hath, though in no other respect, at lost yet in his mouth, in that he will neither say nor do any thing without the licence of honour, or except honour permit. This is that which giveth occasion every day, of bralles, hatred, and rancours: and upon which was grounded, in times past, wicked combat. I affirmed it to be an opinion, and not a science or knowledge: For science is grounded on truth and necessity: Opinion upon probability and accident, For we may well have an opinion, that one is an honest man, but we cannot affirm it, without understanding so much, because externally he may be good, and in secret, wicked.  
This opinion which is termed honour, is grounded upon a secret supposition, that man is good, if there appear nothing to the contrary; and notwithstanding this hath in it difficulty; especially for that which the Philosopher saith, in the second of his Ethics, that virtues and vices in a man, are neither natural, nor against nature, and that good and wicked habit, not by nature, but by custom is acquired: notwithstanding by that which he addeth in his sixth Book, it seemeth this supposition may be granted, because he affirmeth that man is borne with a certain virtue, by mean of which, he seemeth apt to justice, fortitude, and temperance, seeing in a man, by virtue of his mind, there are naturally some principal notes, by which we may worthily presume, that he is rather good, then wicked: and I have set down these two parcels, that have not failed in justice nor valour, differing from other defects, for that God only being immaculate and without fault, it is necessary that man, accompanied with some imperfection, must offend, notwithstanding those sins are tolerable, which sometimes through human fragility we cannot but commit, and therefore the Philosopher in the second of his ethics saith, that he cannot be termed vicious and wicked, which a little swerveth from comeliness and honesty, minding to infer, that those sins, although they give testimony after a certain manner, that we have not performed virtuous habit, yet are they not sufficient to make him lose his honour, but rather those, which are committed against justice and fortitude. And that every one may the better understand how honour is preserved and lost, I have not thought it much from the purpose to declare, what it is to fail in justice, and what in Honour. To fail in justice therefore, is no other but to perform the things, which by good laws are forbidden, and severely punished, to injury another against reason, and by sinister means, rashly to commit manslaughter, murder, theft, ' rapines, treasons, adulteries, and sin against nature, to be an heretic, conceiving sinisterly of God and divine things, to practise usury, and to be addicted unto unlawful gain: to be a false witness, to the prejudice of the goods, life, or honour of another: finally, he is said to have failed in justice, who hath extremely offended against any virtue, seeing that of justice universally all things depend. To want valour is no other, but basely to carry ourselves in dangers, as that should be, to abandon the colours, or battle, by flying away, or else to leave our friend and companion in danger, not to hazard our lives for defence of religion, and of holy Christian Church, for his prince, for his country, for father, wife, children, and such like: as also he manifesteth vility, who easily swalloweth injury, without by his own proper valour, showing himself therewith moved. And let this by me spoken, suffice, to make known the nature of this honour: the which true lie may be termed imperfect Honour, in comparison of that by proper valour acquired. This Honour principally is incident to beneficence (understanding this word not only for bounty or liberality, as many times we do, but as being derined of the Latin words been and facio, to do well or good) it being the most excellent of all other virtuous actions. And it is by the Philosopher, two manner of ways defined, in the first book of his Rhetoric, saying: Honour is a sign of beneficent opinion: and in the fourth of the ethics, Honour is the reward of virtue: the first definition hath respect rather to the honourer, then to the honoured, because it is a sign of opinion which the honourer hath, of the beneficent inclination of him honoured. The second rather concerneth him honoured, than the honourer, in that it is a reward of virtue, which in him honoured is found. Going about therefore to describe the Nature of this Honour, called by me Honour acquired, I will affirm, accepting both the one & the other of these definitious, that acquired honour is no other, than a reward, manifesting an action of beneficence, there being no action so famous, nor that maketh man more like to god, then to be beneficial, the which the ancients plainly show, who esteemed their great benefactors worthy to be put into the number of the gods, consecrating unto them temples, dedicating altars, erecting Statues, offering sacrifices, and such like honours, neither was jupiter called by the Latins, the chief of the Gods for any other occasion, but because administering all things, he is the head Benefactor, as for the like reason by the Grecians he was called 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 as it were Zon, which is as much to say as life, being he that giveth and preserveth life in all things of the world. But because this reward, which manifesteth action of beneficence, may be given more ways than one, the Philosopher in the first of his Rhetoric divideth this honour into divers parts, which notwithstanding I comprehend under these two heads: considering that of honours, some be permanent, and others not. Permanent we call those, which after we have given them, remain to the perpetual honour of him honoured, as Statues, Images, Temples, Altars, sepulchres, Crowns, public stipends, hymns and such like which cause, not only men to be honoured, but also make them glorious, and are never attributed but to gods, and to men heroical, who have performed great and public benefits.  
Honours not permanent, we term them, which after their performing, remain not in action: and these by the Philosopher, are called, barbarous customs, and by us much frequented, as to give the place, to bow, to kiss the hand, the hem of the vesture, the knee, the foot, putting off the hat, and such like: and these honours are not only done to them, who have been beneficial, but also to those, who either for their riches or virtue, are of power to benefit. Out of the definitions by me set down, as also from that, we have hitherto discoursed, it may easily be discerned, how different one honour, is from another; in that natural honour, may rather be said to be, a former disposition of true honour, that by valour is acquired, then honour absolute, and perfect: and therefore it hath the self same proportion, to true honour, as the faculty vegetative, hath with the sensative: for as vegetation may from sense be separate, and is of itself apt to bring forth, one sort of living creatures, as be plants and fruits; so this honour may stand, nay and for the most part is from the other separate; and yet be sufficient of itself to form, an unperfect sort of men honoured, considering all those, who are judged, not to have failed in justice and valour, are called honourable: And as in the living creature, the virtue vegetal, is first in nature and operation before the sensative, being as it were a former disposition unto sense, so this honour, precedeth ever, honour perfect, being unto it a former disposition. And as the sensitive faculty without the vegetative can not stand, so can there not be honour acquired, where there is not honour natural, conceiving that he which is reputed a wicked man, is of any honour unworthy. But moreover, it's a thing manifest, that this honour wheere of every one maketh profession, is without labour acquired, in that man bringeth it from his mother's womb; but true honour is obtained, by excellent endeavour and industry, and by the self same means is preserved. Of honour natural, it being grounded upon contingent, as well the bad as good may thereof be partakers. Of honour acquired, it being a manifest sign, and reward of virtue & her operations, only the man virtuous and excellent, is there of possessor. Natural honour consisteth not in any exterior act, because in this the honourer performeth not, and the honoured receiveth nothing: but perfect & true honour is known by exterior action; by reason in this the honourer, by rewarding, giveth some sign thereof, as also the honoured, by receiving it: moreover, honour naturally hath his contrary positive, which is infamy: and, honour acquired, his contrary privative. And, to the end your Majesty may understand these philosophical terms, you shall be advertised, that contraries positive, be those, which have both their real being in the nature of things; but of contraries privative, the one hath his real being, and the other hath no existence at all, as for example sake: heat and cold, are contraries positive, because in that subject which is not hot, there is always found cold; and where no cold is, heat hath there his real being. Light and darkness be contraries privative, because light only hath his real being, but darkness hath nothing in existence, as that which is no other, but the bare essence of light. Therefore honour natural hath positive contrary; for where he is not, there is real infamy: but honour, which is the reward of beneficence, hath his privative; for where he appeareth not, yet infamy doth not there take place, or dishonour, but only his prination or absence. For one that hath never a statue erected to him, nor crown given him, public gifts, or magistracy, to whom no pre-eminence is given, or cap moved, neither is by any such like observations honoured, shall not, for all this remain infamous or dishonoured, nor in question of honour can not be excepted against, but we will say, that he is only deprived of that honour which is the reward of beneficence, this being a part of human felicity. This is as much as I can or am able to deliver (renowned Queen) upon this subject of honour, wherein, if I have been deficient, let these other honourable Knights plead for me.  
Stay a little signor Gualinguo, answered the Queen, for there is a skirmish prepared against you, wherein it shall greatly help you, to be a good and well trained soldier. Then she commanded all those gentlemen, who were there present, that they would move doubts, & contradict Gualinguo, in the argument of honour, after the same method, as the Gentle women had done in the discussion of love; and the Gentlemen beholding one an other with silence, as they who sitting round about, knew not from whom the beginning was expected, the Queen smiling upon the illustrious Lord Don Cesared Este, (who understanding of the excellent discourses that passed in the chamber of the Countess, withdrawing himself closely from the chase, was come in all haste with the Lord marquess, to find out the company) made a sign unto him, that he should move his doubt; and his most honourable Signiory, in whom, in his green years, a most bright beam of heroical virtue doth shine, graciously obeying the commandment of the Queen, began in this manner.  
You (O Knights) if I do carry well in mind, have grounded this opinion, which is termed Honour, upon a secret supposition, that a man, if there appear nothing to the contrary, is good. Which supposition I hold to be very doubtful: yea and further, that some notable sign of virtue not appearing, he may be conjectured rather a wicked than good man: considering that human nature of itself, inclineth rather to vice than virtue. Which by this may be imagined, because the way of virtue is asprous, hard, and laborsom; so that as a thing miraculous, men point at him who arriveth to the end, and becometh perfectly virtuous: and on the contrary, the way that conducteth to vice, is so easy, plain, and pleasant, as the number of them is infinite which walk by it, and become vicious; this being a manifest sign, that naturally we are not inclined to virtue, but to vice: because things difficult, and that seldom happen, are far from the condition of nature. Experience furthermore showeth, that we rather incline to vice than virtue, in that there is none of us (for what prevaileth it to lie) which in himself hath not trial, with how great violence he is drawn to vice, and how hardly he abstaineth from sensible contentments, how troublesome continence is unto him, and patience bitter. Which being (as it is) true, so shall your supposition be false: for as all things having no impediment, do rather work according to their inclination, than against their nature, so must we presume not knowing any other, that man for the most part, is rather wicked, than good: the which is confirmed, by the answer of Pythagoras, who being demanded, what was most true, made answer, that men are wicked. The supposition therefore being false, so shall the opinion of an others valour, and justice be untrue; for the foundation failing, the building falleth down; Notwithstanding I attend your answer. The reasons of your renowned signory, answered Gualenguo, introduced against my supposition and opinion, are so prevalent, as I may well say the conclusion pleaseth me not a whit; for I know not well how to answer the argument: and certainly our natural fragility is such, as that it never ceaseth to make trial of occasion while it be brought in subjection unto vice, neither could divine Paul effect, although he were divinely illumined, but that he was driven to say, I perceive in my members, and flesh, an other law, repugnant to the law of my mind, which subdueth me to the law of sin: Yet, notwithstanding all this, I am of opinion, that my supposition is true, as also that man in his natural estate, is inclined to virtue, and not to vice, being good and not wicked: the which I hope with so lively reasons to make manifest, as every one shall be out of doubt. I say therefore, that all things comprehended in this universal frame, having their original from God, as God is chief bounty and goodness, so are all these partakers of this bounty, and therefore all are good in the first instant of nature. To affirm therefore, that man is wicked by nature, is no other but to aver, that amongst all the creatures of the whole world, the sensible image of the insensible God (for so is man) is wicked: a matter repugnant to truth, and the authority, as well of holy divines, as philosophers, who are of opinion, that in this inferior world, amongst all living creatures, only man may be virtuous and happy; and as fire should not be light, if of his nature he did incline to the centre, so a man should neither be virtuous nor good, if naturally he were inclined to vice. Furthermore, if Nature, the ministress of God, doth not only generate, but guideth all things generated to their end, and therefore heavy things descend, and those light ascend, as also beasts and living creatures, so soon as they are generate, by nature herself, they are directed to their end & perfection: how can it be, that man should only rest by her abandoned; and which is worse, not only abandoned and contemned, but further instigated, to his ruin and imperfection. Man by the beautiful gift of the mind is true man, who as he is divine, so will we affirm with the Poet, that; Like to his Maker he, doth heavenly state retain.  
And therefore he desireth that only which is best and divine, neither can he, knowing the true and principal good, wish evil: by which reason the divine Philosopher being moved, subscribed to the opinion of the Stoics, affirming in all his conclusions, that man is by nature good, and against nature wicked, and that he as all other things is inclined to this end which is best: and the Philosopher saith, that man is never wicked, but when he is affected against Nature, which cometh to pass, when in himself he hath not civil government, and that which should obey, commandeth: which is sense, over reason. If we shall also further consider, that man naturally is thirsting after knowledge, as the Philosopher affirmeth in the Proemium of his divine Philosophy, we may easily judge, that to virtue and not vice, he is naturally disposed: for of vice there can be no science, it being nothing in existence, but otherwise a mere privation, as affirmeth great Dionysius in the book of Divine Titles, and likewise the Academikes, and Peripatetics. If we therefore (most famous Lord) have respect to the Creator of man, he is his own Image, if to the gift of Nature, he is most apt, if to the end of every thing created, man amongst mortal creatures is only capable of chief good, having only the use of reason; and good consultation to him alone is proper: wherefore notwithstanding the reasous by your signory all eadged to the contrary, we must conclude, that naturally he is inclined to virtue, and not to vice: and that it is to be presumed, that he is good, and not wicked. To which reasons, I being to make answer, we must consider, that in man three natures are comprehended, one common to all living creatures, which is vegetable: another common to creatures and man, and that is sense: the third common to man and things Divine, and this is reasonable Nature. By the first, man is like to plants, by the second, to other living creatures, by the third, he cometh to be true man, and a divine creature, and therefore man by participation, is in the midst betwixt mortal and divine: for in respect of body and sense, he partaketh of mortality, but touching his mind he is divine and immortal: as in man these three natures are discovered, so find we in him likewise, three natural inclinations; one called properly natural, and dependeth on the unsatiable knowledge of universal nature, which moveth all things deprived of knowledge, to those operations, that may conduct them to their proper ends; and therefore this is not subject to the internal understanding of man, that is, to sense, and the mind, because she governeth, augmenteth, nourisheth, moveth the pulses, the spirits, the hearts: and performeth such other like offices, without the consent of reason and will: the second is called living Inclination, which is derived from the knowledge of sense, and in a man is naturally subject to reason: the third is reasonable Inclination, and taketh his original from the knowledge of the mind: this in true man, naturally commandeth over the inclination of sense.  
These foundations being firm and real, I gather two conclusions: the first, that man in the incorruptible state of his own nature, is always inclined to virtue, abhorring vice, following honest contentment, and avoideth that dishonest: the second is this, that man, as he is a creature conjoined with matter and sense, inclineth naturally to sensible contentments, and to vice accidentally: the first conclusion is clear, by that which I have before spoken. For man, produced from God, cannot be but like to his beginning, & conceiving by his proper nature, that honest good is the true and chiefest good, which consisteth in virtuous action, it is not possible that naturally he should will his contrary. The second is manifest by this: for any man, how wicked soever, never doth evil in favour of vice, but of contentment: the thief therefore steals not to be a thief, but to possess and enjoy that whereof he hath want, and the adulterer committeth not adultery, to be accounted an adulterer, but this he doth in favour of lust, and venerous contentment, the which contentment if he could attain unto without vice, it would be much more acceptable and pleasing unto him: for if a man should take contentment in vice, and not in virtue, true man should not taste in himself, the incredible contentation of virtuous action; which questionless is such, as maketh him blessed and happy. Neither should the miserable man be so afflicted by his own conscience, the which without any other help, bringeth unto him most grievous punishment. Man therefore runneth into vice accidentally, that is, by how much the more the vice is conjoined with excess of pleasure or grief. That vice is contrary to the natural inclination of man, it may be this reason be proved, because before the vice of intemperance, proceedeth that same semy-vice of incontinence, which is no other but a precedent battle, that external maketh with internal Man, bestial with reasonable Nature: and except reason be made drunk, and subdued by sense, man falleth not into vice. This battle out of question, should have no place, if a man were naturally inclined to vice, for where there is natural inclination, there can neither be fight nor resistance: and if any should object, that by the semi-vertue of continence, which precedeth temperance, the contrary may be concluded: I answer, that in this there is special difference, because the incontinent after vicious action, repenteth himself, and is daunted in mind, but the man continent after virtuous action, is merry, and comforted: the one is tossed with trouble some thoughts: the other reposeth himself with all quiet and tranquillity, no otherwise then doth the earth, when after great violence, in the end she uniteth herself to the Centre, whether she inclineth.  
But moreover, man more than of any other outward good, is desirous of honour, praise, & glory, he shuneth and abhorreth more than any other evil, dishonour, and infamy: acquiring therefore unto himself, honour and praise, by mean of virtue, but infamy and dishonour, by mean of vice: it is necessary, that man naturally should bend to virtue, and contemn vice: for it would be inconvenient to love the effect, and hate the cause. But notwithstanding all this, it cannot be denied, but the number of vicious, is infinite: and contrariwise of virtuous, the number to be so small, that good Diogenes seeking with a light in the day time amongst a multitude, could not find one: this proceeding from no other, but because the way unto vice is easy, and that unto virtue hard and difficult. Of which, if we be desirous to search out the reason, we must discover a little further, and consider what manner of thing virtue is, as what is vice, and how it may be said, that both the one and other habit is acquired. I say then, that virtue is no other, but an habit, imprinted in the sensible faculty by true and direct reason: by mean of which, that faculty easily yielding to reason, reduceth all his affections to mediocrity, and is conversant either about pleasure or grief: and vice is an habit imprinted in sense, by perveise reason, by whose means, declining from right and direct reason, it easily bursteth forth into height, & excess of pleasure and grief.  
Although man (as I have showed) be naturally inclined to virtue, yet is he neither virtuous nor vicious by Nature, as we have said, but acquireth both the one and the other habit, by custom that is with frequent, and like reiterated actions. Furthermore, we must observe, that man is neither capable of vice nor virtue, before he be a perfect creature & perfect man: unto which perfection he arriveth in the beginning of the fifteenth year of his age, for than he is a perfect creature, being able to generate another like himself, and is perfect man, having the true use of reason: but while that time, he liveth rather the life of every living creature, then of man, performing no one action with preelection, but over-guided with pleasure or anger, and therefore as in that state, he cannot be either vicious or virtuous, so he is not then worthy of punishment, reward, praise, or reproach. Man therefore living first an irrational, before a reasonable life, and aiming all his operations, to the contentment of sense, this by little and little, procureth in him a former disposition to vice, and contrary to virtue, so that we may say with the Poet: 
From whence it sure proceeds, that nature quite doth serve,  
From proper course, the laws of custom to obsarue.  Whereupon, being necessary for introducing virtuous habit, to take away first wicked impression, and tame sense by little and little, which after the manner of an untamed and evil customed Colt, never ceasing to spurn against reason: therefore the way of virtue is hard and uneasy, whereas contrariwise, that of vice is pleasing and ready. This other difficulty also offereth itself, that virtue is in the mean, and vice is that which moveth itself from mediocrity: one way only directeth to virtue, but those that conduct to vice, are infinite, which is plainly showed by the example of the Archer, for he can hit the white but one way only, but to miss it, there be ways infinite. Finally, from the small number of virtues, we may assign this reason: for as to exercise and perform a vicious habit, few things suffice, so to acquire and practise virtue, there be many instruments, and circumstances necessary. And first, liberal birth, and good temperature of the body, is not of small importance: for understanding not being able to work, except stirred up by sense, as also sense cannot perform his duty, if the members and body be not well disposed, as good temperance aideth the senses, so doth it help understanding: and from hence cometh it, that one man more than another, as the Philosopher affirmeth, seemeth borne to temperance, justice, and fortitude: further than this, discipline and good education are so necessary, that without these it is impossible, or at least very hard, that a man should become virtuous: For in Children and boys, the right use of reason wanting, (being the Chariot of virtues) and they ever being by folly surprised, it is requisite, that the right reason of fathers and mothers, should be that which should supply their defects, and by little and little enure them unto virtue. The Philosopher understanding well of how special importance it was to a well instituted commonwealth, liberally to beget and bring up children well, he concludeth the Treatise of his politics in procreation, and good education of children, teaching all those means and rules, which are necessary, for to dispose and assweat them unto virtue: And Lycurgus the Spartan, amongst other his laws, made this one most wholesome and good, that to all actions of boys, their Masters should be assistant, who had an eye, that even in their pastimes children should not commit any unjust act; holding this for a firm conclusion, that of wicked children sprung vicious young men; and of youth vicious, men impious, as also of flagitious men, old ribawdes: and to this conclusion consenteth the divine philosopher, in the sixth of his commonwealth; and Aristotle in the first of his politics, and sixth of his morals, they affirming that a man evil brought up, proveth worse than any wild beast. Riches also is of great moment, to the acquiring and practising of virtue, for as it is hard without wealth to apply ourselves to liberal Arts, so is it likewise difficult where poverty is, that there should be good education, and consequently, vertus. For worldly want, is the mother of Arts moechanicall, & wealth of Arts liberal, and of noble and virtuous actions. It being therefore necessary, that these three things should concur together, to the attaining of virtue, that is, temperature, good education, and riches, it being difficult in one man, to find these three united, of necessity (most famous Lord) the virtuous must be few, & vicious many in number. Wherefore then, replied Don Caesar, may we not suppose, that man is rather in the number of many wicked, than of a few good, especially being so hard and difficult to prove good and virtuous.  
Because every thing, if it be not hindered, continually worketh, rather according to the inclination of his special form, than general, answered Gualenguo, and reasonable nature, being the special form of man, by which from other creatures he is different, and irrational condition, his form general, we must suppose, not knowing to the contrary, that he worketh rather according to reason, than bestiality, for notwithstanding the contrary, many times happeneth, this is not by the proper nature of man, but because matter and sense make resistance. Therefore of being more men vicious then virtuous, the same reason may be asssigned, which signor Patritio the other day alleged, from the greater number of deformed, then beautiful: For as in forming corporal beauty, matter resisting Ideall reason, procureth, that Nature, oftentimes, against her intention, giveth deformity, so in framing virtue which is the proper beauty of the mind, matter making resistance to Ideal human reason, is a cause, that she against her intention many times, runneth into vice, being the true deformity of the mind.  
The most noble Lord Don Caesar, without any further motion, showed himself herewith to be satisfied. And signor Cavalier Bernieri who sat hard by him, doubted after this manner: If the private supposition of another man's valour and bounty, were true, this inconvenience would ensue, that an insolent fellow, whose flagitions were concealed, might be an honourable man, and yet (if the Philosopher in his Ethics, be worthy of credit) honour agreeth not but with an honest man. When soever a man (answered Gualinguo) committeth a malificence, suddenly of himself he falleth into the penalty of infamy. Yet doth he delay his punishment, so much the longer, by how much the slower he is in revealing his offence. A wicked man therefore, though of himself he be unworthy, may yet be honourable, because he looseth not that inward supposition of his being good, except he make it evident and manifest, that he hath failed in justice, or valour: And this is no greater inconvenience, then is that, when a thief by the law is not punished, his offence being concealed.  
Touching the authority of the Philosopher, it is true that the honest man is only worthy of honour, yet this is no hindrance but that one flagitious may be thereof na unworthy possessor. Put the case, replied the Knight, that one had committed a flagition, or performed some villainy, of which, only one or two had notice; shall this man therefore be infamous? Cleaving to our foundations laid, said Gualenguo this man shall be dishonourable, and infamous, marry not with all men, but only with those, who shall be acquainted with this malefact. This would be a marvelous inconvenience, objected Bernieri, because it would follow, that in one instant time, the same man should be honourable, and infamous. It would be inconvenient, answered Cualenguo, whenas at the self-same time, and for the like respect, he were honourable and infamous, but being in diverse considerations, it is not only, no inconvenience, but moreover necessary, because they to whom the offence is known, lose the good opinion they had of him; and they thereof ignorant, reserve it muiolate, while he maketh manifestation thereof. And this is one of the principallest imperfections, that this our honour hath annexed unto it, in that an unworthy man may easily be partaker of it, which to perfect honour is not incident. Bernieri replied no further, and the noble signor Aldarano marquess of Carara, a Lord adorned with most noble customs, and of good Letters, very studious, propounded his doubt, the which was, Whether that an honest man might be infamous.  
When Gualenguo: There is no doubt (noble Lord) but an honest man, either through false calumniation, or upon presumption of maleficence, may lose the good opinion, the world had of him; which having lost, he falleth into infamy. But this is a great inconvenience, replied the marquess, that he who never failed in justice, nor valour, may be infamous.  
The nature of this honour, is subject to these & such like inconveniences, answered Gualenguo, yet is it a thing very difficult, that an honest man should lose his honour, as also it is not a thing so easy, that a man wicked should avoid infamy, for time in the end discovereth truth. Notwithstanding sometimes it may hap, that an honest man, may enter into a bad fame, yet must he endeavour in all his actions, not only to be blameless, but also free from all suspicion of offence, having always his eyes open, that he give no occasion of scandal, or presumption to the world to judge evil; for the envious and malignant take occasion of every probability, to stain the honour of an honest man.  
The marquess was satisfied with this answer, and the Count of Scandiano, a most valorous Knight: Me thinks said he, that you, sir Knight, have very unjustly placed the adulterer in the number of men dishonoured, because custom is contrary; seeing that men, are not only, not ashamed to commit adultery, but as of an enterprise honourable, they have no sooner performed it, as that thereof they vaunt, and make great boast: neigh there is it intended, that any one should ever be refused, in comparison of honour; for being an adulterer, notwithstanding that of these, the number be infinite. I am desirous therefore, that you would give me to understand, how it may be, that an adulterer should be infamous. A man, answered the Knight, committeth adultery in two sorts, in one, when he being bound, falsifieth the oath of matrimony, frequenting with a lose woman. And in this, although he be worthy of some blame, yet looseth he not his honour, because he iniurieth none but his own wife: in the other, when married or unbound, he useth the company of a woman married. And this man remaineth dishonoured, because he finneth extremely against the virtue of Temperance, and faileth in justice, he being a grievous iniurier or destroyer of an other man's honour; the which (as I have said) of all other goods external, is the most precious: and therefore deservedly by the laws, is there imposed on adultery a greater penalty, than on theft, because the adulterer endamnifieth in honour, and theft but in goods. And although men, through evil custom, are not ashamed to be esteemed for adulterers, yet is this no obstacle, but that they are worthy of infamy: or that in combat they may not be excepted against, when by men honest, it shall be objected unto them, as well as thieves. Seeing a man, replied the Count, looseth not his honour, but when he converseth with a married woman, I would willingly understand, if the like happeneth to a woman, which is, that she shall not forego her honour, but when she joineth with one married: for in my judgement, a woman's condition, in this should not be worse than a man's. A woman, said Gualenguo, as in many other things, so in this, is of harder condition than a man: first, in that if she be married, with her own, she also staineth the honour of her husband: secondarily, for that she being (as the Philosopher affirmeth) by reason subject to man, committeth the greater injury; considering that the injury is greater, of an inferior towards his superior, than of a superior towards an inferior: thirdly, because she may bring into her house other men's children, dispossessing the proper children of her husband, of his goods: four, for that a woman, offendeth extremely against her own proper and principal virtue, which is honesty. A woman therefore cannot after this manner, accompany with others than her husband, reserving still her honour, but thus doing, she incurreth infamy. Scandiano seemed to be well resolved.  
When Count Guido Calcagnino, moved this question. You said, that he, who flying, abandoneth his colours, foregoeth his honour: I further desire to know, Whether a valiant soldier, seeing all others forsake the colours, may with honour fly, and remove himself from danger: or aught, for maintenance of his honour, to remain dead by his ancient or colours. And Gualenguo: according to the law of Lycurgus, and of the valiant Spartans, the soldier should be bound rather to die than abandon his ensign for any accident whatsoever; and therefore the severe and rigorous mother was wont to deliver unto her son, that went to battle, his shield with these words, Either with this, or in this: giving him to understand thereby, that either he should return victorious, or remain dead: I am notwithstanding of opinion, that when an honourable man hath performed his duty in fight, and yet for all this, seethe all the other soldiers betake themselves to flight, and knoweth himself not able to resist the force of the enemies; such an one retiring himself into safety, looseth not his honour, but rather, they that first fled remain dishonoured. If one, replied Calcagnino, should abandon his friend or companion, in danger, esteeming himself not sufficient to defend him, by reason of inequality in number, should he in this case lose his honour? If his friend, answered Gualenguo, with arms in hand turned himself to defence, and he on the contrary made away, there is no question but he should lose his honour, neither would the excuse of inequality help him a whit, for the valiant man is not daunted in sudden danger, but the slave and villain. I would not have thought, added the Count, that a man had been tied to do more than he can, but that rather, he had been rash and heady, which esteemeth too much of his own force, as one should be, who to save his friend, did fight against ten men several. And Gualinguo: he that without any other necessity should make choice to fight at one instant against ten, should certainly be rather presumptuous than valiant; but an honourable man being in company with his friend, ought not to forsake him, though he saw himself encountered by ten several swords, but must rather fear the loss of honour, than of his life. By the self-same reason, replied Calcagnino, whosoever were in battle, he ought to stand, though all the restsled.  
The case is much different, said Gualinguo, because he in the field withdrawing himself from danger, and other men flying, doth not abandon, but is abandoned; whereas contrariwise, one that leaveth his friend in danger, is he that forsaketh, and is not left, or abandoned: wherefore he cometh to fail in valour, and manifesting, that he esteemeth more his life, than his honour, he remaineth infamous. Calcagnino held his peace, and Counnt Palla Strozza a most valiant soldier, doubted after this manner: You have placed him amongst men dishonourable, who with his proper valour, makes no show of being touched with an injury: Put the case one were justly injuried, should he, to avoid the loss of honour, manifest himself therewith provoked? Out of doubt he ought, answered Gualinguo, and if he knowing himself to be in the wrong, replied Strozza, should offend him injurying, failed he not in justice, and so consequently, should he not lose his honour, this honour being principally grounded upon the opinion of the world? Gualenguo returns: A man, how good or wicked soever he be, must respect none other thing, but to preserve this opinion, if he desire to be an honourable man: For honour perisheth not before this opinion be lost; and opinion cannot be lost before some defect be manifestand made known: the injuried therefore, notwithstanding he knoweth himself to be justly offended, must labour that the world have no notice of it; and this he shall do, by revenging the injury in proper valour: for by not failing in valour, his defect in justice shallbe concealed: but on the contrary, if he shall bear the injury, not to commit an unjust fact, the world will judge, that having wanted valour, he also failed in justice: and that therefore he is worthy of injury and contempt.  
By this your conclusion, added Strozzi, a great inconvenience would follow: that one to avoid the loss of honour, aught to maintain an unjust quarrel, a thing not approved by any of these, who have entreated of honour and combat; they holding it for sure, that to fight having the wrong on our side, is no other but to provoke the just judgement God, in that by many experiences it is well known, that they who have maintained the wrong, have either been slain, or vanquished by their enemy, although he in force were inferior unto them: where upon they affirm, that he which acknowledgeth his offence & requireth pardon, is less dishonourable than he, that moved by a diabolical spirit, obstinately seeketh to cover it within the lists. All they answered Gualinguo, which hitherto have written of honour and combat, are fallen into manifest errors, by not having entirely known, the nature of this honour: for maintenance whereof, there is every day brawls, and whereupon combat is grounded: for then amongst other things, they would not have said, that an honourable man ought not to maintain an unjust quarrel, for preservation of his honour: and notwithstanding what they said, is conformable to a Christian, who never ought to enter into an action, which offendeth God: yet for all this, it is not convenient for them, who value the honour of the world: for such like men desiring to be honoured, must endeavour by right and wrong, not to lose that opinion, and supposition wherewith they are borne, but questionless this is as oftentimes lost, as a man manifesteth to the world, that he hath failed in justice or valour. And how can it be, further urged Strozza, that an honest man going against his own conscience, should maintain an unjust quarrel? An honest man, said Gualinguo, can never maintain an unjust quarrel, for reason will ever with him be at hand, but an honourable man may well fight being in wrong, to avoid the loss of honour. Then an honest man, & an honourable man, be not all one, added Strozzi: and Gualinguo: By the foundations I laid, it may be clear unto you, that an honest man, and an honourable, be not the self same things: and in this they have been deceived, that writ in the argument of honour and combat: for it may be, that an honourable man, shall not likewise be honest; as also that one may be a man honest, and not honourable, as we have sufficiently declared. What intent you by a man honourable? said Strozzi: By a man of honour, answered Gualinguo, I mean all those whatsoever they be, good or wicked, who have not lost the good opinion that the world conceived of them.  
Therefore I conclude, that an honourable man, is tied in right or wrong by his own proper valour, to repel an injury, and also to maintain an unjust quarrel, lest he remain dishonoured. Strozzi said no more. And although this position, at the first appearance, seemed to all the standers by, a paradox, yet was it by the greater part of the Gentlemen approved for most true. When Count Hercules Bevelacqua, unto whom by order it belonged to propound; seeing honour, said he, is both in right and wrong to be maintained, I would willingly understand, if an honourable man, after he hath valiantly fought within the lists, and brought to that point, as he cannot longer defend himself, ought rather to yield, then permit, that his enemy kill him. This, answered Gualinguo, is not a doubt of small importance: and the opinions of famous and learned men be in this point divers: the greater part affirming, that the combatant ought rather to die, then yield: for in any case, a man of honour should always prefer death, before infamous safety. And this the Philosopher testifieth in the 3 of his morals saying, A valiant man ought much more to fear infamy then death: and also in another place of his Morals. that an honourable man, should rather choose a short life honourable, than a life long, but contumelious. And upon this foundation, the stoics in some cases, permitted the violent kill of one's self, to avoid a dishonourable life. As also the Lacedæmonians, who in fortitude and warlike valour, excelled alother Grecians, commanded their soldiers that they should never yield, they holding it for certain, that they which died with weapon in hand, might rather be esteemed slain, then subdued: & therefore their great captain Leonidas, who with three hundred soldiers, defended Thermopolis against the innumerable army of Xerxes, was not overcome, but killed, neither were the three hundred Fabians vanquished, but slain. Divine Plato esteemed it so contamelious a thing, to yield, as that in his commonwealth he ordained, that there should be no redemption for him that yielded, but that he might be set as a prey to the enemy: and in the twelve of his laws, he made one most severe, against those, who in battle surrendered themselves, as varquished, affirming, that free men should more fear to be made slaves, then have any dread of death itself. He therefore that yieldeth within the lists to his enemy, remaining his slave, and deprived of honour, whereas being killed, he may rather be accounted slain, then subdued: it seemeth, that brought to that necessity, he ought rather to endure death, than ever to yield himself, yet for all this, I hold the contrary opinion to be true, & I am moved by this firm foundation: For in Combat, the cause is no less lost by death, then by submission; but betwixt submission and death there is this difference: that he who yieldeth, looseth only his honour, but the other remaining dead, looseth both honour, life, and that is worse, his own soul: neither will any deny me, but that he had rather choose one alone, than all these three evils together, and no man is bound to do more than his force will extendunto. Whereas it is a rash part, and altogether adverse to nature and human condition, for no benefit to suffer death, without obtaining by the same any thing honest: I will further affirm, that he which in the Lists hath not failed in valour, although urged by necessity he yieldeth himself, he remaineth not wholly dishonoured: nay and sometimes it happeneth that the vanquished, with men of understanding, retaineth a better opinion than the victor, in that the virtue of the mind, is known rather in adverse then prosperous fortune, and a man giveth testimony of himself, and his valour in blood, wounds, and eminent danger of death. Finally, I will further allege, that a man not being borne so much for himself, as for his Country, ought not without urgent necessity, to deprive his country of a valiant champion. The reasons alleged to the contrary are true. Supposing with the Philosopher, (which is false) that chief good cannot be without worldly honour; but because they are grounded on a supposition divers from ours, they no way prejudice our position: For they suppose, that with an honourable death, a man shuneth infamy, & that his former life remaineth unspotted, but if I imagine the ruth, his whole life passed remaineth no less infamous by death, then by yielding himself, because he which dieth, be he defendant or assailant, resteth in opinion to have failed, either in justice or valour, & consequently is dishonoured. This opinion of Gualinguos, was confirmed by the greater part of the gentlemen, & those in points of honour most judicial: when the illustrious signor Hippolito Bentivogli: if I carry well in mind, the Philosopher affirmeth in his Rhetoric, that nor only he which offendeth ourselves, offereth us injury, but also he who wrongeth those things belonging to us: as our father, son, brother, friend, or such like, I would know, if in point of honour we are bound to revenge such an injury. When Gualinguo: that such an injury should tie us to revenge, it is requisite there depend upon it these conditions; first, that it be performed in contempt of us, & through no manifest fault of him offended; further, that he injuried, be impotent, for if he were sufficient to revenge of himself, by taking upon him the burden of his honour, he should come to dishonour himself; therefore the Father is not tied to revenge the injury of his strong & able child, as neither the Son his Father's wrong, when of himself he is sufficient to answer the offender: and to conclude, the strong & mighty, standeth bound to answer for the weak, and impotent, considering the injury is done in despite of him, that can revenge himself, when it is not offered through any manifest fault of him offended: for otherwise to revenge his cause who is justly offended, were no other, but to fail in justice, & therefore I say by manifest fault, because if it were secret, he is by all means to endeavour to keep it close, that he offended rest not infamous. Considering that we are, not only bound to protect ourselves, but also the honour of them that belong to us. Bentivoglie was satisfied, & count Alfonso Turchie You, if I understood well, said he, have recounted heresy among those defects that deprive of honour, and this, in my opinion, hath in it some difficulty, seeing honour & dishonour agree with action, & not with opinion, & sin or maleficence, as the Philosopher affirmeth, in the sixth of his ethics, is not properly of knowledge, nor of opinion, and it is clear, that heresy is no other but an opinion, which though it be false yet shall not he herewith possessed, rest infamous, and the reason is ready, made by the same Philosopher in the third of his ethics: for honour, dishonour, reward, and punishment, follow those actions that depend on free will, and are in our power, but the sin of heresy is not in our power, seeing we cannot enter into what opinion we would, but are enforced to believe what the mind judgeth to be true, or like to truth.  
Although heresy (answered Gualinguo) as it it is an opinion, can neither give nor take away honour: notwithstanding in as much as it is a beginning to work against holy laws, & Catholic decrees, it maketh a man more than all other sins, infamous, when either by tongue, or exterior actions she cometh to manifest herself. Distinguishing therefore, I affirm that heretics are of two sorts: the one secret, who neither with words nor deeds, discover their Heresy: and these, though they lose the favour of God, yet do they not forego their honour, for the reasons above cited: The other kind be manifest, which impudently strive against the laws and institutions of holy Christian Church: & further, seek to draw this and that man into their perverse opinion, by scandalising the world, and therefore lose their honour, they being held in the opinion of the world, to have failed in justice, and to be most notable destroyers of soul's health, the which of honest men ought to be preferred before all other goods. Undoubtedly said Count Alfonso, these sorts of men, are not only worthy of eternal infamy, and in comparison of honour to be excepted against, but for chastisement, are right worthy of the fire. I am also in doubt, said Scipion Sacrati, neither can I see, how it may be, that an usurer should lose his honour; as also I cannot perceive, in what respect he faileth in justice or valour: but I call to mind a Dialogue of a great learned man, wherein he proveth, that usury is necessary to live well and happily. It is necessary, answered Gualinguo, that husbandmen should be great usurers, as Virgil teacheth, and that they should labour, that the earth may render an hundred for one, and after this manner doth learned Spocone intend it in his dialogue: but the usurer whom I place among men dishonoured, is not such a one: but rather one that is unjust, and who practiseth against good laws, seeking unlawful gain, and using money contrary to his proper nature. And wherefore against his proper nature, replied Sacrati? Because, answered Gualinguo, money by the law, was to no other end found out, but to make contracts equal, in the exchange of things, whereupon he that useth it without any change, employeth it contrary to his nature, and against the ordinance of the law: But such a one is the usurer, because he changeth not his money for commodity, but money immediately for money, and therefore usury by the Grecians was termed Focos, which signifieth one begotten; for as the child is like him that begot him, so money employed by the usurer, is like the money, which without any permutation, but only with the benefit of time, it bringeth forth. The usurer deservedly therefore is put in the number of those infamous, because by an evil mean, he wasteth other men's goods. Sacrati said no more: When Count Hereule Tassone: seeing honour is lost by failing in justice, or valour, I would further understand, whether of these two defects deeplyer wound honour. Questionless honour cannot be lost but in defect of justice, answered Gualinguo, neither doth want of valour, touch honour in any other respect, but because with such a defect, there is annexed injustice, or the character thereof. I understand you not after my mind, said Tassone: and Gualinguo: He which through vility hazardeth not his life, for Religion, his Country, Prince, and Friends, committeth an unjust fact: for a man not being borne to himself, but for all these, defraudeth his Country, Prince, Religion, and Friends, of that which is their proper good: and therefore as unjust he is worthy of infamy: he likewise, that is not moved with an injury, besides that he infringeth the law of Nature, which permitteth every one to repel force with force, he carrieth also with him the character of injustice. And how can this be, replied Tassone, if to suffer injury as the Philosopher affirmeth, is free from vice, & to offer it, is vicious & unjust. The Philosopher saith well, answered Gualinguo, but yet this taketh not away my position, for though the suffering of injury be without vice, yet giveth it some testimony of vice in the patiented, for that by this act of supporting injury, he showeth himself worthy of contempt, and consequently, unjust, and wicked; for only the wicked man is worthy to be ignominious. Seeing honour is not lost, added Tassone, but through want of justice, and defect of valour is a kind of injustice, this word Valour, in the definition of honour, seemeth to be superfluous. The common sort, said Gualinguo, not knowing, that justice comprehendeth all virtues, & injustice all vices, and ordinarily distinguishing between base actions, and those of injustice, to make men learned, as also unlearned, conceive the nature of this our honour: the word valour is not only not superfluous, but necessary, and so much the more, by reason common opinion holdeth base & cowardly men, more infamous than those unjust: and in every one, want of valour is more observed, then that of justice.  
Nay, said Count Hercules, the abuse is grown so far, as all men valiant of person are esteemed honest men, although in the rest they be most dissolute. This happeneth answered Gualinguo, because the common sort, which know not the inward virtues of the mind, measureth the goodness and valour of a man, from the force of his body, & not from the power of his mind, little observing, that as man by the virtue of the mind, exceedeth the creatures, so in strength of body, by many beasts he is excelled. Tassone said nothing else, but count Hercules Mosti objected: tell me sir knight, if this our honour once lost, may be recovered again. Let every one take heed, said Gualinguo, of losing his honour, for being once justly lost, it can never be recovered: and I said justly, because lost otherwise, it may rather be termed honour suspended then lost, as it happeneth to those honest men, who by false suggestions enter into the evil opinion of the world, seeing it may come to pass, that time in the end discovering the truth, they may recover their good name. You impose too severe a law upon honour. signor Gualinguo, replied Count Hercules, in that it only being once lost, you give out, it cannot be recovered: for my part, I judge it scarce reasonable, that one bad action cannot by many other good be recompensed, for this is no other, but to bring an offender into extreme desperation: by which mean honour, that in a man ought to be the principal cause of doing well, would be an occasion for him to multiply his flagitions, without ever reforming them. By my definition of honour delivered, you should be out of doubt (answered Gualinguo) that honour justly lost, cannot be recovered. For if it be true that honour is a firm opinion in him that honoureth, that he honoured hath neu●● led in justice nor valour: one that hath only failed once, & is known for the man, cannot come within the compass of this definition, because than it should not be convertible with the defirite, and would be no other, but as if we should ascribe a reasonable soul to an ass. But if men, added Mosti, should turn to have as good an opinion of such an one, as at the first, might he not, recovering the privilege of honour, come within this definition? If we should grant, said Gualinguo, that an ass had wings, we might conclude, that he were a bird and fowl, therefore I say unto you, that this case in him can hardly be admitted, who hath justly lost his honour, because they who have notice of his defect, although they would, yet could they not of such an one retain so good an opinion, as at the first, if they lost not also their own memories, the which is hard, or at least very difficult. For men for the most part, being envious and malevolent, they are unmindful of virtuous actions, keeping them close, but they reserve fresh in memory another man's misdeeds, and continually with their tongues blaze it abroad: and touching this severe and strict law of honour, I say it is severe, but yet just, and likewise those laws be just, though austere, that cut off the lives of malefactors, or their members, the which things, though they be irrecoverable, yet cannot these chastisements hold malefactors in: but if the fear of loss were recompensed with the hope of recovery, who seethe not how great the number of wicked men would be, and of those ready to work mischief.  
The law of honour then, is the cause of well doing, & not of multiplying flagition, because the greater sort of men hold their honour so dear, as that they dare not do evil, for fear of the loss thereof, knowing that it once only being lost, can never be recovered. But for all this, I do not affirm, that a man who hath ceased the honour of the world, should upon this multiply in flagitions, without ever reforming himself, but rather the contrary, that a man after the recovery of the former good opinion, cannot do better, then manifest to the world in all his actions ensuing, that he is penitent & turned to a better life: for though it may well be, that he shall hardly be able to return to his first degree of honour, yet he may become a good man, & shun continual reproach. And how should it come to pass, replied Mosti, that proving a good man, he should not likewise become honourable: I pray you tell me, is not an honest man worthy of honour? If you deny this, you frame a paradox against the Philosopher, who affirm, that only the honest man is worthy of honour. An honest man, answered Gualinguo, is two manner of ways understood: One is, he that never cracked his credit, but is well known for such an one, and this man is truly worthy of honour, and deservedly honoured: The other is he, who having once or twice failed, and known for such an one, in the end amendeth, and becometh good; this man is not absolutely worthy of honour, neither can he be counted honourable, but only in comparison of a man impious. Count Hercules was content with this last distinction: when Count Gherardo Bevelacqui, I saw said he, in the book of Posseviuo, entitled, of Honour, amongst many other, this one notable disputation, whether honour consisteth in the honourer, or him honoured, and notwithstanding he greatly laboureth to ressolue this difficulty, yet my conceit was not therewith satisfied; for by one reason it seems to have residence in the honourer, seeing in him is placed that opinion, which you aver to be honour. On the other side, it appeareth rather to be in him honoured, seeing he giveth denomination to the subject, and that as milk for the whiteness is in it, cometh to be termed white, so the honoured is so called, for the honour in himself understood: I desire therefore to hear you upon this point.  
This doubt, answered Gualinguo, hath given divers occasion of discussion, and especially Posseviuo, but because what he saith, nothing toucheth this honour whereof we entreat, but rather that which is acquired by beneficence, we will leave it apart: therefore standing on the foundation of our natural honour, we must observe, that a man supposed good, if nothing appear to the contrary, honour proceedeth from the apparent image of the virtue of the honoured, imprinted in the fantasy of the honourer: and because good opinion is the proper essence of honour, we will say, that honour essentially is in the honourer, & in the honoured virtually (to use these terms) essentially in the honourer, because in him remaineth the opinion; virtually in the honoured, for that in him is the hidden virtue, which of itself causeth imagination in the fantasy of the honourer, procuring opinion. This answer well pleased Count Gherardo, and replying no further, signor Hercole Gilioli: There riseth in my mind a doubt, said he, which springeth from that before you affirmed, man to bring with him this honour, from his mother's womb: If this be true, I cannot see how honour should essentially be in the honoured, seeing he enjoyeth it not from his birth, and if in him it be essentially, how can it be recounted amongst goods external? Man, as I have said, answered Gua. bringeth with him honour from his mother's womb, because he is borne with that inward supposition, that he is good, neither is it requisite, that to preserve this supposition, he labour greatly, in that it sufficeth only, he never extremely offend against any principal virtue. And for that of this supposition, in the end groweth opinion, in him honouring, which is honour, therefore it is said to be essentially in the honourer. Yet is not to him as his own, but as a thing appropriate to the honoured. I affirm therefore, that notwithstanding the honoured is borne with possession of honour, yet makes not this, that in him honour should essentially be: for if that were true, we might conclude, that riches likewise were essentially in the wealthy man, seeing he is borne to possession of them, and that they were not to be placed amongst goods external. signor Hercules held his peace, and the Lord Caesar Brancaccio whom now it concerned to propound, musing a little with himself: methinks, said he, that this our honour, (and ours I call it, seeing Nature and Fortune offereth unto us, without our industry) giveth occasion of doubt in this, I not having hitherto heard any one question propounded, pertaining to that true honour, which by virtue and valour is obtained, as though the Knight had so amply entreated, as that nothing remained whereof you might doubt; I notwithstanding am not altogether satisfied: for if it be true, that this honour is a reward that showeth and exalteth the work of beneficence, and that not only those are honoured, who have performed benefits, but he also is esteemed, that is likely to be beneficial, this inconvenience ensueth, that a wicked fellow, who either hath, or is likely to benefit, may be worthy of honour, as on the contrary, an honest man unworthy, because he neither hath, and is altogether unable to perform any benefit. The man wicked, said Gualinguo, can in no sort be worthy of honour, although he either hath, or may perform a benefit, always provided, that he be known for flagitious: first, in that he deprived of natural honour, is incapable of any other: secondly, because the work of beneficence simply sufficeth not, to make one worthy of honour, being requisite, that such an action should be performed by an honest man, and to no other end: for he that should place a benefit to th'end to reap thereof gain or delight, such an one should not be worthy of honour, neither could he be thought ingrate, that were unmindful of such a benefit, or should not thereof make any demonstration; but an honest man & so known, doing benefit, is worthy of honour, because he is beneficial to no other but an honest end: neither can any be virtuous or good, which is not apt to perform benefits. If a virtuous man, replied Brancaccio were in calamity or poverty, how could he be beneficial? And Gual: The means of benefiting be diverse: for we may do good to the body, to the soul, by good examples setting forth moral virtues and knowledge, or with physic procuring health to the body: Finally, as it cannot choose, but the Sun must needs heat and illuminate, so is it impossible, that a virtuous and good man should not be beneficial, and consequently, unworthy of honour.  
If they, added Brancaccio, that for profit, benefit, and not for honesty were not worthy of honour, the Doctors that read publicly, the Physicians that administer health to the body, advocates that defend goods and titles, and other like virtuous men, who notwithstanding do great good, should be unworthily honoured: seeing all these practice their virtue for profit. And Gualinguo: If these were principally moved by profit, aod not honesty, out of all doubt they could not be worthy of honour, but if practising for honesty, together they attain profit, they shall not for this be unworthy: and especially the Doctors, who read publicly, for they are publicly paid, and public stipends, are in the number of points honourable. By good reason also Physicians are honoured, because in them there is virtue, and their end is supposed honest, in that they set not their labour at sale: and notwithstanding they extend forth the hand, to receive that which is given them, yet do they this, because a gift is accounted as a point honourable, and a reward of beneficent and well doing action: and therefore as the Philosopher sayeth, a gift is equally desired by the ambitious, as by the covetous, of the ambitious for honour, of the covetous man for profit. At this last answer, the Ladies and Knights smiled, and signor Brancaccio replied no further. But signor Scipion Gilioli took occasion of the doubt propounded by signor Guilio Caesar: I would willingly know, said he, seeing a wicked man by the work of beneficence, cannot make himself worchie of honour, whether he may honour another or no: by one reason it seemeth no, in that he cannot give what he hath not: but the wicked man hath no honour: on the other side, if a wicked man shall receive some singular benefit, from one honest and good, he may in recompense erect unto him a Satue, make Hymns in his commendation, offer him presents, and such like honours. A bad fellow, answered Gualinguo, can in this do no honour to an honest man, who is truly honoured, but rather by such like ostentations he dishonoureth him, especially when the man depraved doth him this honour: for having received some benefit, either in his body or goods: for an honest man cannot do good to the body or goods of one wicked, without giving scandal of himself, seeing he is worthy of honour, that doth good for honesties sake, and to a party henest.  
You said, replied signor Scipione, that a man might many ways be beneficial, that is, to the body, goods, and soul: put we the case, that a good man, by doctrine, good examples and admonitions, do cure upon the sick soul of one wicked, reducing him to better life, and that he for such a benefit should erect unto him a statue, as they do who having escaped a shipwreck, erect altars and statues, to God & religion, should not this be honour to a virtuous man? Without doubt it should, & that most great, said Gualinguo, in that of all benefits he hath performed the greatest, which is, the health of the soul. Then inferred Gilioli, a man wicked may perform a most special honour, & yet not long since you denied it. I said, answered Gualinguo, that a depraved man could not give honour, but he which having received the health of his soul, doth honour, honoureth not as he was wicked, but as he is a good man, and therefore the honour he offereth is not to be despised, for though it be not honest, that a good man should further the body or goods of one wicked, yet is it most honest to procure unto him the health of his soul: and whosoever performeth such a benefit, maketh himself worthy of honour; signor Scipione used no further speech. When signor Alessandro Andriasi: You sir Knight, have defined this honour whereof we entreat, to be the reward of beneficence, if this definition were true, it would follow, that the inferior could not honour the superior, for as it is proper to the superior, to give, and not receive reward, so is it proper to the inferior, to receive and not give. And Gualenguo: reward may be considered, after two sorts, which be, as it is profitable, or as it is honourable: as profitable it concurreth not with the definition of honour, but as it is honourable it therein taketh place. In this sort therefore considered, it may be thus given by the inferior, as unto him also from the superior: for the recognizance of virtue, is common both to the one and other. Yet is there this difference, by reason that what by the greater is given to the inferior, besides being a note and testimony of virtue, it showeth also supereminency in the superior, and therefore requireth thankfulness and gratitude: but that from the inferior to the greater, containing duty, is a sign of humility, and is called reverence. This excellent distinction pleased all the standers by, and Andriasi replying no further. signor Galiazzo Fiaschi: I remember said he amongst other matters I saw in the book of Possevino, this conclusion, that honour consisteth more in desert, than possession; where of I doubt: and upon this expect your opinion. And Gualenguo: Possevino, or the author of that book, as many other things, so doth he maintain this conclusion against Aristotle, from whom he showeth himself altogether dismembered, and separate: for if it were true, that honour consisted, rather in deserving, than possessing thereof, that likewise should be self, which the Philosopher affirmeth in the first of his Ethics. That honour is not our own, but dependeth more of the honourer then him honoured: neither could honour be recounted, amongst goods external, or of fortune: for though it be in our power, to make ourselves worthy of honour, yet is it not in our power to receive or possesle it: seeing through the ingratitude or ignorance of them, in whose hands just distribution lieth, we are oft times deceived. Therefore conformable to this, Cicero cited this notable sentence: Virtue for guide, but Fortune for companion, I would have. Minding to infer, that if the virtuous man have not Fortune for his companion, he cannot have pessession of honour: and that virtue without fortune, is of itself unto it insufficient: the opinion of Cicero was held for truth. When Cavalier Guirino:  you sir Knight have concluded with the Philosophers and Cicero's authority, that honour consisteth rather in possession than desert, I desire to understand further: whether a virtuous & prudent man, aught to seek & demand that honour, whereof he knoweth himself meritorious, or holding his peace, to attend while fortune accompany his valour and defect, with honourable charge, leaving all other means: In that by one reason it seemeth he should not: for in seeking after them, he incurreth suspect of ambition, which ought to be abhorred of an honest man: on the other side by not labouring and suing after it, he is in danger to be thereof deprived, and consequently, not to be known for virtuous: considering that honour is the ensign of virtue: as by effect we see, that some are esteemed of valour, by enjoying magistracy, titles, and other such like honours, notwithstanding that in themselves, they have not the least shadow of virtue. Then Gualinguo: It is the property of a virtuous and wise man, not to show himself desirous of honour, neither to seek or crave it, but directing all his actions to honesty, by this mean to make himself worthy of honour; yet ought he not to live so contemptibly, as after the manner of Diogeves' Cynic, to manifest, that he holdeth honour in scorn, but rather whensoever occasion presenteth itself, he ought with modesty to accept of those honours that befit him, that he incur not the vice of pusillanimity. If it be true, replied Guirini, that honour is deserved by virtue, and by fortune acquired: I cannot see, why a virtuous man may not seek at the hands of for tune, the honour he deserveth, considering that fortune is not moved except she be sought unto & urged: we being wont for this cause to say, that she is not favourable, to the timorous and slothful, but to the bold and adventurous: and it is an opinion approved by all the Philosophers, that a wise man is the framer of his own fortune: And I know some gentlemen, which to others also are well enough known, virtuous, prudent, and of great desert, yet for that they have (as we said) been ever cold, and not urged fortune, nor sought the honours they deserved, live in their City without any renown: whereupon by Court impostors, this their modesty is esteemed pusillanimity, not to say plain stupidity: whereas on the contrary, every day we see men of small desert, raised to great honours, by having been audacious, and assaying all means, as well lawful as unlawful, but specially in procuring to themselves their favour, that could bestow on them honour or riches. And if we do but think upon the examples, as well of the ancients, as men of these times, we will conclude, that valiant men ought to seek, and hunt after honours, that they may be known to be the men they are. For beginning from the Romans', as they were virtuous, & of great valour, so did they demand, and by all means affect honours: unto them, it not seeming sufficient, to deserve it, except they also fished for it: with great suit therefore they required the Pretorships, Consulshippes, pontificacy, all Magistracies, & other dignities that appertained to honour, as also the Generals of armies or Consuls were wont, returning into their country laden with spoil of their enemies, with all instance to demand triumph: and oftentimes this being denied them, they raised sedition in the commonwealth, which surely they would never have done, but that they knew, that to seek and hunt after honour, is proper to a virtuous man, and to one that deserveth: and to come to more modern examples, let us see, whether in the most famous Venetian commonwealth, honours and magistracy be by the nobility required: in such sort, as it seemeth no whit inconvenient for any gentleman whatsoever of singular virtue, to demand Magistracy, with that their manner of supplication, which they call Broio; and yet for all this are they not counted ambitious, but rather doing otherwise, they should be esteemed lofty and proud: as if for this received honour, they were rather bound to their own proper virtue, then to those, who graciously dispensed it unto them. But what need we to use any more prevalent example, do we not read that the master of good customs, Aristotle himself with his followets having plucked Plato now old, out of his chair, went and sat in it himself, not respecting to dishonour his master, for the exaltation of himself with that honour, whereof he thought he was worthy? I will not therefore think, that to seek honour is any heresy at all, or a thing unworthy of a virtuous and wise man. The virtuous man, said Gualinguo, directeth all his actions to honesty, and not to honour, for though there were no honour in the world, yet would he perform honest actions, considering that human felicity consisteth in virtuous and honest action, and not in honour, as the Philosopher affirmeth in the second of his ethics: nay, and as often as he should perform honest actions, to no other end, but to obtain honour, and not honest reputation, such an action of itself should neither be virtuous nor worthy of honour. But the ambitious man making small reckoning of honesty, is he that always worketh in favour of honour, seeking that honour which is not convenient for him, from the place with him not befitting, & with the means for him, no ways requisite.  
I would have thought, said Guirino, that Honour and Honesty haddde been the self same thing, especially, the Philosopher having placed it amongst things honest, or at least so, that the one cannot stand without the other: in such sort, that we cannot endeavour in favour of honesty, without having an eye unto honour: as likewise, he that did attend honour, should have regard to honesty. And Gualinguo: although there is nothing honest, which is not also worthy of honour, and notwithstanding honour properly agreeth with things honest, yet honour without honesty, and honesty without honour may be found: for as one may deserve, and not possess honour, so may he unworthily enjoy honour that deserveth it not, considering that the possession of honour is in the hands of Fortune, and not of virtue, as hath been said. By the definition of honour replied Guiring, it seemeth that honour and honesty are inseparable: for if honour be a sign of honest action, it will follow, that where honour is, there must likewise be honesty, as also where honesty is, there must needs be honour: as (for to use the example of Possevino) where is the sign, there is the Inn, neither without the sign can the Inn stand: and where ashes be, there either is, or hath been fire, for ashes is a manifest token of fire, as milk is of pregnancy in a woman. If honour (said Gualinguo) were as necessary a sign of honesty, as ashes of fire, or milk of child quickening and pregnancy, this argument would quickly be concluded, but though honour be a sign and reward of beneficence, yet it is no necessary token of honest action: for it may be honour, though unworthily, where virtue is not, or virtuous action may stand without deserved honour, when she findeth herself by fortune abandoned: & to prosecute the example of Possevino, as many times there be Inns, & especially in Spain, which have nothing good in them but the sign or garland, that deceive strangers, seeing within there is neither bread nor wine, nor any of those things that are the proper sustentations of an Inn, so may divers be found, that not having in themselves any virtue, possess by the stroke of blind fortune, the exterior ensign of virtue, which is honour. But to return from whence we have digressed, I affirm, that to seek possession of honour by any other mean, then by the desert of virtue, is not a thing honest nor convenient for a virtuous and good man, so that with a quiet mind he ought rather to suffer the deprivation thereof, then by demanding it, to manifest himself ambitious, and defirous of honour, retaining always in memory this infallible proposition, that to require honour, annihilateth the desert of wertue. And therefore the Philosopher in the third of his politics saith, that he who demandeth magistracy, showeth himself rather ambitious, then deserving it, and he addeth, that magistracies should rather be given to those that modestly refuse them, then to such as impudently require them: which being true, the modesty of those gentlemen, by you and others known to be virtuous, ought not to be taxed, although they live a private life, not practising every day, after the manner of men ambitious, and that shamefully beg honours. But rather that signor or prince is to be blamed, in whose hands it lieth to dispense rewards, punishments, honours, grace, and favours. For if he knoweth not the desert of every subject, but especially of such as be noble, who of themselves are worthy to be regarded, he incurreth like blame, as the shepherd that knoweth not his sheep: but if he know them, and yet distribute his honours & favours, to flatterers, ignorant, and presumptuous men, little esteeming the modest and virtuous, he showeth himself unjust, & unworthy of principality. And touching the example of the Romans, if we measure well their actions, we shall find that in their commonwealth they were rather good citizens, then virtuous & good men. I would have thought (said Guirini) that a good citizen & an honest man had been all one: And Gualinguo: In the best commonwealth it is all one, because her end is honest: but in that commonwealth which preferreth profit before honesty, a good man & good citizen be not all one: And such an one was the Roman commonwealth, she ever having had this scope, to signiorize over others, and therefore the Romans, notwithstanding they were good Citizens, and profitable for the commonwealth, yet surely they were not virtuous nor good men, but rather ambitious, they seeking the honour, not of honesty, but of profit: and that this is true, by a decree of the Senate it may be proved, which thus disposed, that triumph should not be granted, but upon the augmentation of empire, and not for recovery only of things lost: as also, that no captain might triumph, if in one battle only, he had not at the least put six thousand men to the sword. Whether such an action be absolutely honest, or worthy of honour, I leave to you to judge: for my part, I would say, that to shed human blood, for the wicked desire of Empire, were an action rather wicked and dishonest than worthy of honour: which being true, the examples of the Romans', ought not to remove us from our opinion, seeing they ambitious, sought honour, from whence it befitted not, and after a manner no ways convenient: but if they had been truly good and virtuous, they would never with suit have demanded magistracy and honours, being an action much more worthy of an honest man with modesty to be refused, than to be accepted of ambitiously. And to use the example of the self same Romans', tell me in good earnest, whether of these two judge you to be the honester action? That of Fuluius Flaccus, who to annoyed envy, refused triumph, by others so much aspired after: or that of Q. Valerius, who blinded with ambition, contended with Lutatius about triumph, not respecting how it was not honest, that a Praetor in triumph should be equal with a Consul? And which act was more worthy of commendation, that of julius Caesar, in usurping the perpetual Dictatorship, or the other of the great African, who having been entertained with honours correspondent to his deserts, & the Senate determining further, to erect unto him an image, where the people used to assemble, one in the Senate house, another in the Renghera, or place of orations, as also to place his image in the Capitol, where were the statues of the gods, adorned with triumphant ornaments, and further to make him both Consul and Dictator for term of life: he never would consent, that any of these honours might be attributed unto him, neither by decree of the Senate, nor voice of the people. sent that any of these honours, might be attributed unto him, neither by the decree of the Senate, nor voice of the people. Undoubtedly this valiant man, did no less show the greatness of his mind, in refusing so great honours, than before he had done in deserving them: whereas on the contrary, the mind of Caesar puffed up and full of ambition, by usurping the highest of all honours, did not a little obscure the desert of his renowned valour, making him to be known, as question less he was, for a man ambitious and wicked.  
Concerning your modern example, of the Venetian Signiory, as that most noble commonwealth is armed with excellent laws, so is the practice of Broio (as a course scarce honest) by law forbidden. And about reformation hereof is the office of Censorship conversant: for truth whereof, they grant no magistracy to them, who openly demand it, but to those that are chosen: and therefore, before they create a magistrate, they first call out by scrutiny, those that are to have the election; and he to whose lot the golden Ballot falls out, is the Elector that propoundeth and nominaceth him, whom he thinketh worthy of the magistracy; and that of all he may be known for such an one the Ballotini go about (for so are they called that carry about the box with these Ballots) declaring with an high voice, the honours and magistracies that before they have performed. It cannot be denied, said Guirino, but that commonwealth governed by the Holy-ghost, is furmshed with excellent laws: notwithstanding the practice of Broio is so inveterate, that there is no Magistrate chosen, but by this mean: as also, they praeoccupy to be nominated and elected: yea and openly give one to an other the tickets of their names, surnames, and offices, they have gone through. This abuse, answered Gualinguo is not rashly permitted, but with great judgement, seeing thereout they reap a benefit, that tendeth to the preservation of the commonwealth, considering that by this Broio, the Nobility is united, comoyning themselves rogether in love, procured by this mutual and interchangeable benefit: and by surname, knowing one another, they are wary to offend in any case: so that I assure you, those gentlemen, do more fear one of those ragged pelers of paper, then do soldiers the leaden bullet of the hargabuse. Surely I remain satisfied, said Guirino, that a virtuous and good man, ought not to prosecute honour, but with desert of virtue, and virtuous action. And Count Caesar Tassone: Seeing an honest man must not show himself somuch as desirous of honour, yet I would willingly understand, on whether of these two he ought to be most ententive, either to receive honour, or to do honour to another: for my part I would think, that honour being a sign which showeth virtue, an honest man, to make himself known for the man he is, ought rather to cover by honour amongst others to be famous, than he himself to honour another, considering that to honour another, seemeth a token of submission, and noteth I know not what kind of supereminency in him honoured. A good man, answered Gualinguo, ought rather to be careful in doing honour, then in receiving honour from another, and the reason is in readiness: for though we be not honoured by another, yet lose we not the desert of honour: but on the contrary, we not honouring those, to whom we are bound to render honour, we wholly manifest ourselves unjust, and unworthy of honour: Furthermore, to do honour, and especially to him that deserveth, is an honest action, and ever proper to a good man: but in receiving honour, the honoured performeth nothing honest: and notwithstanding it be a sign of virtue in the honoured, yet is it no such necessary token as we have said; for a wicked man may also receive honour, although he be voworthy. Tassone commended this answer. When signor Francisco, Patritio: You sir Knight have given me but small occasion to doubt, yet would I willingly, somewhat more exquisitely understand, how it can be, that the honour by you termed natural, and as it were imperfect, should be a former disposition to perfect honour, considering you explained it from this point very divers. And Gualingua The honour which is our own, and whereof every one maketh procession, is out of doubt a former disposition to that honour, which with virtue is acquired: for whosoever wanteth the good opinion of the world, is incapable of all, but especially, of perfect honour, as a living thing wanting virtue vegetative, cannot have sense. If perfect honour, said Patritio, (for so will we call that, which is the reward of virtue) cannot consist without the imperfect, wherefore have you said that the imperfect honour hath no part in felicity, but only the perfect? Unperfect honour said Gualinguo, may be understood by itself alone, (as many times we find it) or else as conjoined with that perfect: of itself alone it hath no part in felicity, because felicity dependeth on operation according to the best and most perfect virtue: and this is not derived from excellent operation, but from not performing very vicious action: and therefore it bringeth not with it felicity, but maketh a man indifferent, neither happy, nor miserable; but when we consider it, as united with perfect honour, than we may say, that it is a disposition and preparation to felicity.  
Patritio was satisfied, and signor Hercules Varani, who hath no small taste of learning, propounded after this manner: The Philosopher showeth in the first of his Ethics, in the place above cited, that felicity is not honour, because felicity is our own, and honour is not: and rendering hereof a reason, he useth these formal words: It seemeth honour is rather in the performer, than in him that receiveth it. Out of which words, some move this question; whither honour, be in the honourer, or honoured: & amongst others, Possevino maketh a large discussion, concluding that honour, is both in the one and other. In the honourer, because he doth his duty, in honouring him that deserveth: and in the honoured, as receiving the reward of virtuous operation. Now of this honour wherewith we are borne, you have sufficiently showed how it is both in one and other; but of perfect honour we stand in doubt.  
And Gualinguo: It is no less improper, for to search whether this honour, be in him honouring, or the honoured, than it would be to demand, whether the Statue were in the Graver, in the procurer of it to be wrought, or in him whose image it representeth: therefore I say, that honour as a reward, is neither in him honouring, nor the honoured. And what sense will you apply to the words of the Philosopher, replied Varani? When Gualinguo: The Philosopher would infer, that honour being no other, than that reward, which showeth operation of virtue, it dependeth of the giver, as of the cause efficient, which is he honouring, and not of the other honoured, being he that receiveth it: seeing it is in our power to deserve it, but not to receive it, as we have said: yet to honourable action, he honoured concurreth in a more eminent manner, than the honourer; in that he thereto concurreth as the end, he honouring performing honour, in favour of the other honoured: but if by this reason, honour were formally, both in the honourer, and honoured, by the contentment, which of honourable action, is both in the one and other, as affirmeth Possevino, this would be false which the Philosopher saith, for the contentment of receiving honour, being greater than of performing it, it would by this means come to be, more in the honoured that receiveth, then in the honourer, that performeth it. And how can it be added Varano, that in receiving there should be greater contentment, than in performing, considering (as the same Possevino affirmeth) that it is a thing more excellent to do, than suffer: but he that receiveth suffereth? This proposition also of Possevino, answered Gualinguo, is false, speaking absolutely, for being always true, it would follow that the creature in reasonable action were more excellent than the Creator. But to the end we err not in this, it must be observed, that to give, and receive, is considered two manner of ways: one, when we perform or give simply in honesty, without having received, or so much as hoped for any benefit. And in this kind, it is much more excellent to give than to receive, and the contentment of him that giveth, is much more, then of the other that receiveth, for in the giver, abundance appeareth, but in the receiver, indigence. The other kind is, when we give in recompense of a received benefit, & especially the reward of Virtue, which is the honour of this world: and in this respect undoubtedly it is a matter of greater excellence to receive than give, because it noteth abundance of perfection in the receiver, and want in him that giveth: and so consequently, it is a greater contentment to receive after this manner, them to give: conformable to which our opinion, the Philosopher in the second of his Rhetoric, saith: The performer of a benefit is much more joyful in beholding him benefited, then is the receiver in seeing his benefactor: and to conclude, by how much the cause final is more noble and excellent than the efficient, so much more excellent is it to receive, then to give honour.  
And therefore the most mighty God concurreth with honour, as of all other things the most eminent, being the end, in favour whereof all things do move. signor Hercules approved this answer: and signor Francisco Villa, thus propounded: You, sir knight, have defined honour universally to be the most precious of all goods external, which being true, it would follow, that Praise, Honour, Glory, and Fame, should be the self same things signified by these divers names, or being different, your proposition would be false, for glory is much more esteemed than honour, which seemeth to be most precious, as that which only agreeth with God. And Gualin: Your doubt signor Villa, is no less excellent and gracious than yourself, wherefore resolving it, I say, that if we consider the foundation, and from whence they take their original, praise, honour, and glory, be the self same things, neither doth one in perfection exceed another, seeing all of them are grounded upon virtue, and from her are derived. And therefore the Romans so joined together the Temple of Virtue and Honour, as to the Temple of Honour one could not pass, unless first he wen by that of Virtue: but if we consider these terms in themselves, they are of divers signification: for speaking properly, we praise habits and virtues, but attribute honour to the actions that of virtue depend, and glory to the excellence of virtue and actions together: distinguishing therefore every one of these terms, we will affirm, that praise is a speech, which showeth and exalteth another man's virtue, the which in two sorts is afforded, with lively voice, and in writing, as also by poesy: and this by the Grecian is called Encomion, and hath his place with honour permanent: Glory, the faithful heir as it were, of Praise, is no other but a common and approved opinion, of another man's excellent virtue and Heroical acts, and from honour is different, because this, without any other sign or reward, may be preserved in memory with men, through infinite ages. Fame, notwithstanding it seem the same that is Glory, that also being a public rumour, that bringeth forth universal opinion, yet is it from Glory different, first, because she in one instant hath her source, and many times is fallacious: but Glory is ever firm, as not framed but with long time. Moreover, glory is always taken in good part, Fame sometimes well, otherwhiles evil, whereupon wicked men also are said to be famous: and therefore Fame of Virgil is described, to be an horrible monster, than which there is nothing more swift. It seemeth also that Fame agreeth most with the dead, but Glory belongeth also to the living. For the excellent Philosophers, and great Captains, now long since dead, are said by Fame to be exalted to the stars, but glory the living also enjoy.  
signor Villa was pleased with this answer, and the Lady Tarq. Molza drawing near, a woman of most pregnant capacity, seeing how in that noble assembly there was not any, who would further propound with the favour of the Queen, spoke after this sort: It appeareth Sir knight, that you have handled this argument of honour, in favour only of men, as though women therein, had no part at all: seeing all those advertisements by which honour is preserved, do in a manner pertain altogether to men, and little or nothing to women; because for my part I will not be of opinion, that a woman looseth her honour, if with her proper valour she repel not injury, or fight not for her Country, Prince, children, or husband, performing other such like actions, as belong unto fortitude. Forbear not therefore to instruct women, how they may preserve their honour: And Gualinguo: Although in women, most gentle Lady, all those virtues are found, which proportionally are correspondent to the virtues of men, notwithstanding it seemeth, that for preserving their honour, their condition is far better than men's: for Honour feminine is preserved by not failing only in one of their proper particular virtues, which is honesty. If a woman therefore, replied Lady Tarquinia, should commit a thest, manslaughter, or fail in any other part of justice, should she not for such a fact be infamous? And Gualenguo: Although such offences, in men and women, are by the laws equally punished, yet as often as in a woman they are not accompanied with the act of dishonesty, they make her not infamous. Therefore it was not lawful with the Hebrews nor Romans', to refuse their wives, as also at this day the separation of marriage bed is not permitted, but for crime of dishonesty, seeing in a woman, this offence is so grievous, as with her own, she staineth also the honour of her husband.  
This is a great matter you acqaint me withal, added Molza, neither can I perceive how it may be, the definition of honour, remaining firm, wherein you conclude, that honour is lost through our own, and not for another's defect: the adultery therefore of the wife, being of a wife the defect and offence, and not of her husband, she only ought therefore to be infamous.  
The wife, answered Gua. being in her husband's power, and under his government, it appeareth she cannot offend, without some fault in her husband, as he that either by consent, or evil government, hath been the occasion of such a defect: and therefore it cannot be that the adulterous wife, should not in some part offend her husband's honour, because such a man, cannot be in that good opinion he first was, with them who have notice of this offence, for they judge him ignorant, of small worth, and worthy of that contempt his wife and adulterer procure him. And if the husband, said Molza, knew not the adultery of his wife, but had thereof all the convenient care he might, and yet for all this, his wife should be so malicious, as he not ware thereof, to set a crest on his head: should the husband for this lose his honour?  
A man not being able, answered Gualenguo, to avoid all snares and deceits, nor to prevent those things, whereof he hath no knowledge, should not altogether lose his honour, notwithstanding, it could not otherwise in some sort be, but that he should be touched, and shake his reputation with those men, who were acquainted with his wife's adultery: yet could he not in comparison of honour be excepted against, unless it were proved, that he tolerated his wife's dishonesty, for some benefit he hoped for in simplicity, or through folly; suffering her to go into places dishonest, or to converse with women of evil name, or where there were danger that she might commit adultery; for certainly he is a fool, that putteth fire to tow and thinketh it should not burn.  
To return therefore to our purpose, a woman desirous to preserve her honour, aught to have an eye to preserve her honesty, and not only to be free from offence, but also from suspicion of offence: the which she shall conveniently do, if she accompany her words, laughter, looks, and carriage of her person, with that grave and reverent majesty, as is beseeming a chaste and modest Matron, and above all, to avoid the familiar conversation of any man, be his condition whatsoever, except her father, son, and brother: For honour having his foundation and proper essence in the opinion of the world, it is not so much lost for offence, as by probable presumptions of offending, With this answer, by the Queen commended, and by all these most chaste and virtuous Ladies confirmed, they ended the discourse of honour; and the Lady Laura Peverara was called, who with singular delight to the hearers, sung unto the Harp an amorous Sonnet. But the court and huutsmen arrived, the Queen & company retired themselves into the lodging of the Duchess, where, with diverse entertainments they spent the time while Supper; which finished, and certain dances exercised, the night being well spent, the Duke rose up, and referring over his fishing to the day following they all betook themselves to their rest.   

The fourth days discourse: Wherein is discussed, the iniquity of Combat, and single fight for maintenance of reputation, with the mean to accommodate quarrels, and reduce unto peace private enmities.  
THE whole Court and his Highness, being ready in the morning to have gone to sea, there suddenly rose a most furious wind, which having incontinently, as it were, obscured the air, with thick and dark clouds, held the whole company in suspense, till dinner time: Finally, by all those experienced, the time being thought unfit, either to draw the nets, or practise other manner of fishing, as also to be dangerous, for going on the sea; the Duke, after the tables were taken away, and the rain even now ready to descend, gave liberty to the Ladies and Gentlemen, to betake themselves to that entertainment of time, which best stood with their contentment: some therefore went to cards, some to tables, other some to chess, and divers spent the time in pleasant discourses. signor Gualinguo was set down by himself alone, all melancholy, leaning his cheek on his hand: which Count Alfonso Turchi perceuing, as he who is desirous to understand (especially such matters as appertain to knighthood) going to count Scandiano, count Hercules Bevelacqua, and count Guido Calcagnini, who stood beholding at a window the tempestuous sea: Let us go, said he, to signor Gualinguo, who sitteth there altogether idle, and procure we him to discourse a little more particularly touching Honour and Combat. For although yesterday, he entreated thereof, yet stood he altogether upon generalities, not extending himself greatly to particulars, which in my opinion, are of no small importance. This motion well pleased the other three Gentlemen, it seeming unto them, that they could not spend the day in more pleasing or profitable entertainment. Approaching therefore near Gualinguo, sir knight, said Count Alfonso, if we be importunate, blame your own virtue, and the desire we have to understand: Yester evening in favour of the Queen, to our great benefit and contentment, you made it known, that there were two honours, in themselves diverse, the one of which might be called perfect, grounded upon an opinion, for the most part false; and the other truly perfect, as grounded upon true apparent valour, and upon the most excellent of all virtuous operations. To day seeing the time forcibly keepeth us in the house, we desire, that in favour of yourself, you will discourse of combat: for those who writ of combat, not having distinctly known the nature of honour, doubtlesle, they have not thereof sincerely entreated.  
Although to this hour, answered Gualinguo, there hath not any written sufficiently of Combat, and that for this, many abuses have been introduced into the Titles of honour; yet in this, neither I can, or aught to give you satisfaction: first, because the Treatise thereof is superfluous, Combat now being no more in use, but removed out of christian commonwealths, by Popes and christian Princes, as a thing certainly, I will not say barbarous, (in that amongst Barbarians we never find it accustomed) but impious and profane: secondarily, as a man expressing the truth, I neither can nor aught to dilate, but in discommendation of it, showing contrary to the vanity of Doctor Paris de Puteo, and Possevino, that it is unjust, and worthy to be wholly banished out of the commonwealth, as a destroyer of human felicity; if you will not according to our desire, said Alfonso, discourse thereof, at the least yet, may it please you, by us demanded, to answer to those points, wherein we do doubt, & have not understanding. And Gualinguo: I will not refuse to make answer, and resolve you to my power, if you should thereof have any wrong or sinister opinion. You entreating of honour, added Count Alfonso, said, that Combat was wholly grounded upon that honour, we bring with us from our mother's womb, and whereof every one maketh profession, it being honour imperfect: and that it hath nothing to do with that honour which is a part or circumstance of felicity. Of this I stand in doubt: For besides that Possevino holdeth the contrary, he grounding Combat upon that honour which is a sign of beneficent opinion: further than this, also it seemeth there is some reason, that a man in combat, putting his life to compromise, ought rather to expose it for honour perfect, than imperfect: especially perfect honour, being part of felicity, unto which, as to his proper end man directeth all his operations. And Gualinguo: What I told you yesterday is true, that Combat hath not to do with that honour, which is a part of felicity, & reward of beneficence: the which I will make you conceive, by the definition itself of Combat, which in my opinion ought to be such: Combat is a bartaile betwixt two of equal interest, in some point of honour, in the end whereof the vanquished incurreth infamy, and the victor remaineth possessed of Honour: We having therefore showed that infamy is not contrary, to perfect honour, which with valour is acquired, it followeth that the honour in Combat debated, neither is, nor can be perfect honour: but that honour, which is proper contrary to infamy.  
This also is made manifest by the two means, wherewith quarrels are protested: For he which challengeth, called therefore the Assailant, offereth to prove upon him challenged, who in this respect is termed Defendant, that he hath committed some of those offences, that deprive of honour, and that therefore he is infamous: in the other kind, the assailant offereth to prove himself a man of honour, and that he is unworthy of the injury and contempt, which the Defendant hath offered him, being as much as if he should say, that he would prove upon him, that himself never fail●● in justice, nor honour. For by such defects a man cometh into contempt: and to stand upon use and custom, we never do, nor shall find, that any quarrels have been undertaken, about perfect honour, or that any for this have come to combat: for certainly it would be a ridiculous matter, if any should offer to prove, that he is a man, worthy of a statue, Image, crown, a public gift, to be reverenced, given place unto, celebrated with hymns, or honoured with such like honours, as also it would be as far from reason, for a man to prove one infamous, not because he had offended, but in that he never received any of those honours by me recited. And to an swear that you spoke touching Possevino, I know not how he came to be so blind, as having defined honour, and entreated thereof, as the reward and sign of beneficence, he afterward hath so unadvisedly thereupon grounded Combat, minding that the honour contended upon, within the lists, should be that, which is the reward of beneficence, neither can we say, that he intended it by any other honour: for besides that in all his book he hath not discussed or known any other honour but this, which is a part and proper condition of felicity; he yet further in the beginning of the fift Book manifesteth himself clearly, saying that the honour, which is the end of Combat, is explained and defined in that part of politics which handleth Customs; and that therefore the Treatise of Combat, is a matter pertaining to the Moralist, and not to the Civilian: and why might not this honour said count Alfonso Turchi, be the reward of the victor in the lists? considering that to such a one after victory, great honours were done, he being accompanied out of the field, with sound of drum and trumpet, and denounced valorous of all men: and finally, the arms hung up in the church, wherewith he had fought, to the perpetual glory of such a fact: which arms, after the nature of a statue, represented the image of the victor's valour. Relying on the definition of perfect honour, said Gual: by us recited, & by the same Possevino confirmed, after Aristotle's opinion it cannot be the reward of the victor in the lists; for he performeth no act of beneficence, but to himself, overthrowing his enemy: but rather in respect of the world, he performeth a work of maleficence, and therefore is worthy of blame: because he offendeth the life and honour of his neighbour, and depriveth the common wealth of a champion.  
And touching those, which you term honours within the lifts these be no true hovors, in that they neither are, nor can be the rewards of beneficence, as also it is no perfect honour, to hang up our arms in the church of God: first because he that is conqueror, not to himself, but to the glory of God hangeth them up: and though he had done it in favour of himself, yet could this be no honour unto him, in that, though by ourselves, we may be made worthy of honour, yet of ourselves, as we have proved, we cannot be honoured: for than it would follow, that for the self same respect, and at the self same time, one may be both honourer and honoured, which is impossible: I having many times considered, said Count Guido, of hanging up in the Temples the arms of the Champions in combat, dedicating them to God: I could not but with wonder rest scandalised with so great an abuse, especially God in his holy law, having commanded, that menquellers, should be removed from his altar; for what thing could be more impious, and profane, then to present before God the unjust sword, all begoared and tainted in human blood, and which before had destroyed the image of God, and dispersed the honour and life of his neighbour. The holy Ghost ever be praised, who yet in the end hath vouchsafed, to breath upon the souls of christian Princes, and hath removed unjust combat, which was the occasion of so many evils. questionless it was a singular favour, proceeding from the divine bounty and goodness of God (said Count Hercules) to root out of the world so great an abuse. But to return to Possevino. of whom sometimes, I was wont to be enamoured, I now know, that there can no excuse be found, but that, his error is to be blamed: seeing it is manifestly proved by the self same definition, he delivereth, of Combat, that the honour contended of in the lists, is not that honour he defined, and whereof in his book, he hath entreated, which definition he setteth down with far greater circumstances, than you do yours, wherefore of necessity either yours must be defective, or his superabundant, he affirming combat to be a voluntary encounter, betwixt two men, by which the one armed ontendeth to prove upon the other, by his own proper valour, not therein any way hindered, and in the space of a day, that he is an honourable man, and not worthy to be contemned, nor injuried: as also the other hath a determination to prove the contrary. Out of doubt by these last words in this definition, it cannot be intended by perfect honour, and by beneficent action acquired, seeing he mindeth not to prove, that he hath performed any great benefit, that he is worthy of a statue, crown, or some other such like reward: except peradventure Possevinos mind was, or that he supposed, the man unworthy of contempt, to be also worthy of the reward of beneficence. Notwithstanding Possevino, answered Gualin: endeavoureth to show, that this his definition, is most perfect, as in it being nothing superfluous or improper, and that it might be a perspicuous beginning to the understanding of all things, that appertain to combat: yet to himself overmuch affected, he is deceived, for he hath praepostered it with words superfluous, defective, and improper.  
Now in all affection, sir Knight I beseech you (said Count Alfonso) be it not unto you displeasing, to examine this definition by points and parcels, to the end, we may understand the truth, for I for my part ever judged, that Possevino, by this definition had better expressed the nature of combat, than any other, that hitherto had written. Beginning at the first word (answered Gua.) encounter or conflict, whereof in this definition, he maketh a general use: it is not a word proper, but translated; for it is drawn from hewing down trees, overthrowing houses, walls, towers, and such like: and it is a thing certain (as the Philosopher teacheth) that translated or metaphorical words, as we call them, are not apt to express the essence of things: and thersore they should never be placed in definitions, especially, when there be words proper to serve the turn: and although without prejudice to truth, we should grant, that it were not a word translated, yet could he not deny, that he, when he might have placed in his definition, a kind more near, hath used one more universal and remote, considering that conflict or encounter, is much more remote and universal, then is their word battle, seeing every battle may be said to be a conflict, but yet every conflict may not be a battle: except Possevino were of opinion, that to overthrow walls, trees, houses, or such like things, were to be termed a battle. Hoving therefore in this definition placed the kind remote, for that nearer to the nature of the thing, it seemeth he made but small account of his masters precepts in his Logic; and the error he hath committed, is no less, then being to define man, he hath defined him for a creature, and not for a reasonable substance. But for all this he showeth, replied Count Alfonso, with judgement to have set down these words: saying: from hence we may gather that all both wise and ignorant, do call such an encounter or conflict if we so please, Combat? Although this be false (said Gualinguo) as I will show you, yet admit it were true, that Combat ordinarily were called a conflict, it should not for all this be set down in the definition of Combat, this being a word translated improper, and insufficient, to distinguish the nature of Combat: For as authority coupled with reason, maketh great proof, so of reason abandoned, it is insufficient, neither shall we ever find, that the Philosopher without reason hath prevailed by authority: but this is far from truth, that such a like battle, is by all men called a conflict: And beginning with excellent Doctor Paris de puteo, who is the ancientest and of greatest authority, he calleth combat a single battle, and never termeth it an encounter or conflict, and notwithstanding Mutio justinopolitano sometimes hath named it a conflict, yet when heassigneth the proper desinition thereof, he saith, that combat is a battle, of body to body, for proof of truth: and Ariosto speaking of battle hand to hand, calleth it not an encounter, or conflict, but single fight, saying: Fine, or six days, this single fight deferred was.  
And that which followeth: by this authority, one may understand, that Possevino hath erred in saying, that both the wise, and ignorant, call combat a conflict: but rather any one of judgement, having an eye to the latin, which saith, single fight: and to the Greek which termeth it Monomachia, signifying the self same, will define it a battle, and not a conflict. But to come to that other word voluntary, it is superfluous, improperly placed, and not necessary, as he affirmeth, to distinguish a battle made by force & in this point, he hath no better used Aristotle's doctrine, than before in other places he hath done. But how is it superfluous, replied Count Alfonso, are there not many that fight by constraint? It is superfluous (answered Gualinguo) because without it, the definition may stand, seeing such a chance can never happen, that two combatantes within the lists should fight, by force, in that manner he speaketh of; and always when there is a battle, it is supposed to be voluntary; but further, he hath used this word voluntary, unproperly, in having applied it absolutely; for although combat be Voluntary, yet is it not absolutely voluntary, but hath ever mixed with it some circumstance, not voluntary. I rest altogether perplexed (said Count Alfonso) neither can I imagine, how combat should be, either voluntary, or violent. To manifest this unto you (returned Gualinguo) and withal, to discover the error of Possevino, it is necessary, that I give you distinctly to understand, what actions be absolutely voluntary, and what not voluntary, and which mixed, that is which have joined with them a little force or constraint: and this I will do the more willingly, in that all this I am to tell you, willbe no small assistance, to the understanding of virtuous operations: for no action can be termed virtuous, or vicious, worthy of honour, or deserving blame, demeriting reward, or punishment, if it be not absolutely voluntary.  
I affirm therefore that to be absolutely volumarie, seven conditions are required, as the Philosopher very well teacheth in his morals; the first is, that the beginning be in him that worketh, and not external or without him: the second is, that he understand his own action: the third, concerning what, or for what cause he worketh: the sift, after what sort: the sixth, to what end, that is, in favour of whom: the last, that he perform such an action, voluntarily, and not with grief: whensoever therefore, any of these conditions shall fail, out of doubt the action, cannot absolutely be termed voluntary, but shall either, not be voluntary, or retain with it, some part or circumstance of constraint. Help my understanding (said Count Alfonso) with some example, to the end I may better comprehend these circumstances of absolutely voluntary. And Gua. behold an example, we may commit an error, not understanding the matter, as he doth, that putteth away a false crown esteeming it good: this action may be termed not voluntary, for if he had known so much, being an honest man, he would not have spent it: and therefore is worthy of pardon, and not of punishment: In like sort we may err, not knowing the matter, or concerning what we work, as if one should offend his Father, esteeming him an enemy, in such manner as unhappy Oedipus did: we may likewise err by not knowing the instrument wherewith we work, as if one should strike with a spear, believing it to be without a head, or with a marble stone, taking it for a pumix: Fiftly we err about the manner how: as if one thinking to strike softly, should smite hard. Sixtly, we err concerning the end, & of all other errors it is the greatest, as if a Physician to heal his patiented, should launce an impostume, and by such incision procure him to die: lastly, that action is not absolutely voluntary, but hath somewhat not voluntary mixed with it: when one worketh having know league of all the circumstances above named, & yet enforced, & with grief, performs such an action, as it happeneth to him, who to save his life, casteth his goods into the sea. Now by absolute voluntary, we may conceive that, not voluntary, which is in two manners: that is, by force or ignorance: by force is that, when the beginning of the action consisteth not in the performer, but is extrinsical and without him, as if one taking my arm by force, should strike another therewith: and therefore this action is violent, because the actor consenteth not thereunto, neither as agent nor patiented: by ignorance is he, that worketh, not knowing any of those circumstances by me recited: and this, though always it be not voluntary, yet is it not ever unwillingly performed, but sometimes it happeneth, that they be performed both voluntarily, and not. How can it be, said count Guydo, that one thing may be, not voluntary, & yet Voluntarily acted. When after an operation, performed ignorantly, replied Gualin. there ensueth not grief, or repentance, but rather joy and contentment, that is an action not voluntary, voluntarily performed: as if one should shoot an arrow, where he thought some wild beast lay hid, and with this should kill his enemy there in covert, it might be said, that this man unwillingly, had voluntarily slain him, he after the fact remaining joyful, and well satisfied; but when repentance followeth such operations, in such a case they are not voluntary, and against will performed. There be other actions, which (as I have said) be termed mixed, because they have annexed to them, some respects voluntary, some not volun tarry: for voluntary they are, as not being performed by force.  
For the beginning of the action is in the actor, who is privy to the circumstances by me rehearsed; but yet have some consideration in them of not voluntary, insomuch, as they are performed for fear of greater ill, or for hope of some good, & so unwillingly performed: being such actions as no man of sound mind would undertake: as if a tyrant having in his power, the father or children of some one, should command him to perform some infamous fact, with this condition, that performing it, his father and children should be free, and on the contrary not accomplishing it, they should be put to death. The like is as I said by them, who for fear of shipwreck, cast out their goods: for simply there is no man, that of his own proper will, casteth away his goods: this granted, we may easily conceive, that this word voluntary, placed by Possevino, in his definition of Combat, cannot be intended by absolute voluntarines, as himself (it seemeth) understands it: for notwithstanding in him that fighteth, the internal beginning of such an action consisteth, & that it is not performed by ignorance, yet hath it some circumstance of not voluntary annexed to it: first, because it is done for fear of greater evil, as would be the loss of honour, which the professor thereof preferreth before his own life: secondly, in that no man of right sense, would choose to put his life, honour, & soul, to compromise, as combatants do within the lists. Poss. hath erred, by improperly placing this word voluntarily in his definition; neither can this allegation excuse him, that he put it in, for difference of conflict made by force; seeing all conflicts are forcibly attempted after the same manner I have declared, they being performed for fear of greater evil: but if he meant to place it as a difference, of violent, & not voluntary; which is of that when the beginning of operation consists not in the actor, it would be superfluous, for such an instance can not be imagined in combatants within the lists: unless Posseu. meant that the wind should face to face blow the combatants one against an other with their arms, the one by the other to be bruised. But proceeding further, after he hath said, that combat is a voluntary encounter or conflict, he addeth: wherein one intendeth to prove upon another, that he is an honourable man, and unworthy to be injuried or contemned; as likewise the other mindeth to prove the contrary.  
In this last clause there be two errors; first, that there being two kinds of quarrels, for which the assailant, challengeth combat, he hath made mention, only of one: the second is, that he hath improperly placed this word, to prove, in the person of the defendant, which is proper to the assailant. I would have thought, said the Count of Scandiano, that quarrels had not been only of two sorts, but rather infinite, for which men fight: Although the quarrels may be infinite, answered Gualenguo, that procure combat, yet are they all reduced to two heads, as likewise injury and impeaching another man's honour, be of two sorts: for injury is either committed in words or deeds: in injury of deeds, the assailant being ever the party injuried, he intendeth to prove upon the defendant, that he is an honourable man, and unworthy to be contemned: and so consequently, that the defendant, in offending him, hath carried himself, as an unjust and wicked man; the defendant minding to maintain the contrary. In the injury of words, the Assailant is for the most part him injurying, who by the injuried repelled with a lie, is enforced to aver his saying: and therefore he intendeth to aproove upon the defendant, that he hath failed in justice or valour, and that he deserveth not to be in the number of men honourable, the defendant determining to maintain the contrary: Yet Possevino, in his definition comprehendeth not the second manner, which respecteth the injury of words, but only the first, having relation to injury in deeds, and therefore in this point is defective. The using of this word. To prove, in the person of the defendant, was no less error, said Count Alfonso, because unto the assailant it is so proper, as that there have been some (whose opinion notwithstanding I do not commend) who setting down precepts for the forming of bills, have advised the defendants, that in answering, they should not use this word, to prove, because by this means, of defendants, they should make themselves assailants, and be prejudiced in the election of arms.  
Although after a confused manner, said the count Scandiano, I understand these terms, Assailant, and Defendant, yet I desire to have of them more full and ample knowledge, as also wherefore to prove, is proper to the assailant, and to sustain and maintain to the defendant: These terms (answered Gualinguo) are taken out of the civil law, wherein he that demandeth and moveth strife, is named the Assailant, and the challenged Defendant: So that in Combat the challenger is called, Assailant, and he challenged Defendant: And as by the Civil law, it concerneth him Plaintiff, to prove by testimony or writings wherefore he pretendeth to usurp the Defendants goods: So in Combat it belongeth to the Assailant, to prove wherefore he usurpeth the Defendants honour: And therefore it is necessary that the first provocation proceed from the Assailant, in assaulting the Defendant, to which Defendant as a Castle, it sufficeth to sustain the assault: wherefore as well in combat, as in civil law, the state of the Defendant, is better than of the Assailant: in that the Assailant not subduing, looseth, and the Defendant not losing, overcometh. It seemeth further, said Count Guido, that Possevino thought it necessary to insert this word Arms, in the definition of combat, saying: that the one will prove by Arms, and as followeth: whereof I am doubtful, especially by the Lombard's law, who were the authors of combat, seeing they allow not, that the Combatants should use other arms in Combat, than staves, and if arms were granted, this was only in quarrels that imported some offence against the majesty of the Prince. And Gualinguo: If Possevino by arms intends only those which are made of iron, or steel, which cut, prick, and kill, out of doubt, it is superfluous, seeing without such arms quarrels may be ended, and an enemy vanquished, within the lists. It seemeth, said Count Hercules Bevelacqua that he expresseth himself, because he saith, he put in arms in that definition, for the difference betwixt them, and proof of testimony, & other means, as with fists, buffeting, and other such like offences, which are not properly termed combat: In my opinion also that other circumstance is not necessary, but rather superfluous (in the space of one day) saying, that the assailant in the space of a day mindeth to prove, that he is a man of honour. Wherefore is that superfluous, said Count Alfonso; would you that there should be no end of the defendants fight? And Gualinguo: Questionless, it is superfluous, for though they should fight out the battle, till one were slain, (which sometimes, by consent of the defendant, they do) yet could it not therefore be said, that such a battle were not combat. Possevino, said Turcho, in the beginning of his fift and last book of Honour, moveth a question, which hath, and will ever be ready to procure disputation amongst the curious, and that is, whether the treaty of combat, appertaineth to military discipline, to political customs, or to the wisdom of the laws: and finally it seemeth, that with most effectual reasons he concludeth, that the treaty thereof properly appertaineth to politic customs, and moral philosophy, being altogether alienate from professors of the law, and soldiers: and our country man Pigna, was of the same opinion, as he affirmeth in his book entitled of honour, and men heroical. Touching this also I would willingly understand your mind, that relying on Possevino and Pigna I continue not still deceived, as I was wont. In very deed, said Gualinguo, you should be deceived, if you entered into any such opinion, for politic customs neither, can, nor ought in any sort, to entreat of combat, combat being a thing unjust, & contrary to their foundations. Possevino, replied Turcho, doth yet by lively reasons show, that combat hath relation to politic customs, as that which entreateth of injuries, and determineth honour, which is the end of Combat; for combat is ordained to no other end, but to repel injuries, and recover honour: and more, by politic customs, we conceive, who is honourable, and who not, as who is injuried, and who not: and not by the policy of laws, and magistrates, which discuss not of virtue, vices, honour, or felicity: but supposing all these things, with good laws, & fear of punishment, enforce malicious, & ignorant men, to live according to virtue. By that I have otherwise said, answered Gualin. in the discourse of honour, as also by that I am to declare unto you, it will be an easy matter to conceive the sophistications of Possevino, who defirous to entreat of combat, with moral foundations, and according to Aristotle, is fallen into a sea of errors, & manifest contradictions, giving to understand, without other addition, that combat is no point of moral discipline, as it is only moral: for the moral Philosopher having felicity for his scope, as he which intends no other course, but to show the means whereby a man may become happy, cannot dispose of these things which are contrary to felicity, except by the same means he considereth of vice, that is, as of a thing worthy to be discommended, and by them altogether to be avoided which desire human felicity: neither prevaileth it to say, that moral philosophy defineth that honour, whereupon combat is grounded, for I have proved unto you, that the Moralist considereth nothing at all, nor never defineth this honour whereupon combat is grounded, but only that, which by beneficent action is acquired: for this by way of combat can neither be acquired, or preserved, as he foolishly affirmeth, as also it were to small purpose to say, that by Ethics we know, who is honourable, and who not: for although this be true, yet is it not to be understood by that honour, whereof every one maketh profession; but by that, which to a few is participated, being the reward of excellent action, & a principal circumstance of felicity: for he that understandeth such an action, understandeth likewise who is worthy: and touching that he addeth, how the Moralist entreateth of injury; for repelling whereof combat is introduced. I say, the consequence is nothing worth: for the Moralist discourseth of injuries for instruction, how to know the just from the unjust, and not that such injuries, are by combat to be repelled, seeing injustice and injury is to be returned with justice, as the laws command, and not by unjust means, as is combat. But before you numbered the supportation of injury amongst vices, said Count Guydo, and not revenging the same with proper valour. The Perepatetike (answered Gualinguo) doth not spoil a man of affections, like the Stoic, for man being partaker of the sensitive faculty, can not be insensible: but would, that with reason moderating them, he might reduce them to the state of mediocrity: it is therefore necessary, that a man in the same instant he is offended, should be angry, and therefore at the same time it shall be lawful for him to make that revenge he can, and which honesty permitteth: which not doing, he runneth into the vice of stupidity, or pusillanimity (if we may use such words:) And if he could not, replied Turchi at the same instant return due revenge, either through inequality of party, or some other impediment, to repel the injury, and not seem sottish, shall it not be lawful for him, to have recourse to combat, and to attempt the recovery of honour, by his proper valour. It is not requisite for him, answered Gualinguo, to have recourse to combat: for as I told you, he must not repel injury, with a mean unjust, but just, according as the laws command: Wherefore occasion once past, it is not convenient, that in cold blood, as we usually say, he perform any other matter with his proper valour: for in such a case, the condition of the iniurier is far worse, than of him injuried. How may it be said count Guido, that the offerer of injury, should be of worse condition in honour, than he that receiveth it: I of myself following common opinion, should have beleeuéd the contrary: considering the iniurier usurpeth the honour of him injuried, and necessarily urgeth him to recovery of the same. The condition of the injuried is less wicked, said Gual: because, to receive injury, showeth no more but impotency, & is without vice: but to offer it, is a thing vicious, and blameworthy, considering he faileth in justice, and therefore looseth his honour. In like manner, the receiver of injury looseth his honour, said Calcagnino) by failing in valour, and she wing himself worthy of contempt. To receive injury, is not to fail in valour (answered Gualinguo) but so to receive it, as thereof to make no just revenge. And what understand you by just revenge, replied Calcagnino? And Gualinguo: the revenge shallbe just, when at the samen instant he is offended, he shall attempt to repel the injury with his proper valour: and it is just, for he doth that, which by natural and civil law, is permitted unto him, which make it lawful, to repel force, with force: and when through inequality of party, or other impediment, he cannot perform this, he is bound after the fact, to have recourse to the magistrate, and by them to seek revenge, rather than by combat, to the end that Magistrates, and laws, see me not in Cities to be created in vain. He that in such a case should run to the Magistrate (said count Hercules) would give notice of small valour, and show himself worthy of contempt, and consequently, to be but slenderly honoured. No man remaineth dishonoured (said Gualenguo) but he which offendeth against justice, or fortitude, as we have said: therefore he which in receiving injury, hath committed no vile fact, looseth not his honour, although afterward, he seek revenge at the hand of the Magistrate: neither for this, doth he fail in valour, but he should fail in justice, if contemning the laws, and Magistrates, he assayed revenge of himself, and should attempt against the laws. I beseech you tell me unfeignedly, he that goeth about to recover his goods, and seeketh revenge of the thief, faileth he in valour, having recourse to the Magistrates? I know you will say he doth not, because the laws so command: and wherefore then would you have him to fail, which assayeth to recover his honour, and seeketh revenge from the Magistrate, seeing the laws so command, and that they punish them severely, who attempt by any other means, as contemners of the Magistrates, and laws, which chastise with no less penalty impeachers of another man's honour, than the offence that thieves commit. Me thinks sir Knight, said the count of Scandiano, you are contrary to yourself; for yesterday you said, that a man of honour, aught by all means to repel injury, not to seem worthy of contempt. & that he ought not only to enter into combat, but further was bound to maintain au unjust quarrel, for the concealing of his defect, seeing honour is not lost before offences be revealed: and now you would have him seek recovery of his honour, & revenge not by his own proper valour, but from the hands of the magistrate: and there is no doubt, but relying on the world's judgement, he that attempted to recover honour, by this means should be noted for vile & cowardlike. There is no contradicton in my words (answered Gualinguo) if in sinister sense they be not interpreted. I then said, and now affirm, that a man of honour ought by all means to endeavour to maintain possession thereof: but above all, by just means, as these be I have here set down unto you: and if they were not sufficient, through some evil custom, and that he were in danger to lose his honour, he ought not refuse then to fight, notwithstanding the quarrel were unjust, & enter into the lists, if combat were in use: & this is one of the principallest imperfections, that this honour hath, by me rightly termed, imperfect; wherefore whosoever thereof maketh profession, he ought by right & wrong to procure the preservation of it; as was yesterday sufficiently showed: only Iwil say, that the moral philsopher determineth not of this honour, he being of himself, and alone, as a thing unperfect, hardly capable of human felicity, and consequently less ought to censure, or entreat of unjust combat, seeing upon this, honour is altogether gorunded, and hath his foundation.  
You (replied the Count Scandiano) ever term Combat unjust, yet have you made no demonstration of the injustice thereof; and notwithstanding, this I have seen, some places cited out of Aristotle by those that are learned, out of which they gather, that combat is just, and aught to be permitted: especially in the first of his Rhetoric, where he admitteth revenge, which not being granted, saith he, divers inconveniences would ensue: and in the fift of his morals he saith, that Citizens must endeavour to repel offence, in that to suffer injury is a kind of servitude: And Homer whose poem by opinion of the divine Philosopher, is the seeing glass of human life, and author of combat, maketh Paris and Menelaus to fight hand to hand at defiance, as also Hector and Ajax, the which by Virgil & Ariosto hath been observed: neither wanteth there of the gravest authors, who writing, labour to make it just, and worthy to be admitted, as a thing profitable to preservation, and recovery of honour, and to live well in a City amongst whom is Doctor Paris de puteo, and Possevino, neither are their arguments to be despised, and for my part, I esteem them prevalent.  
If by others, and especially by most learned Susive, said Gualinguo, it were not proved against Doctor Paris de puteo and Possevino, that Combat is a thing most unjust, I would labour to make you conceive the injustice thereof, but this man having philosophically and learnedly entreated thereof in a book of his own, entitled of the injustice of Combat, referring you over to that, I will speak no further of it. Although excellent Susius, said Bevelaqua, hath plentifully spoken thereof, as you say, yet will it be acceptable to understand also something from you in this point, seeing at this inslant we have not Susius book about us. That you may not account me, luskish & ssothfull, said Gua. behold I desire to give you satisfaction. Combat, is repugnant to nature, & contrary to laws divine, and civil: To Nature it repugneth, because she intendeth generation and preservation; Combat to kill and destroy: it is contrary to laws divine, and civil, because, neither by the one, or other law it is permitted, that a particular man should dispose, either of his own, or of another man's life: considering that the law respecteth a particular man, not as of himself, but as belonging to the country & Prince, under whose dominion he is subject. Secondly it is unjust, because it contendeth to prove the virtue of the mind, with force and dexterity of body; which mean is by itself insufficient, for if with force of body the virtue of the mind, were necessarily conjoined, a country man or porter, or some other more base, might easily be more honourable & virtuous then one noble. Thirdly, in combat the knowledge of truth and equity, is referred to the arbitrement of fortune, a judge most uncertain, and to the sword, deprived of reason: therefore it is unjust: neither availeth it any thing to say, that in combat God favoureth the just; for if that were true, he should never overcome that had wrong on his side, and yet we see by experience, that the liar by being more strong and fortunate, hath overcome him with truth on his side: so that to ordain combat, is rather a tempting of God, then by such a means to draw from God just judgement. Finally, it was never by any common wealth accepted, or approved of, neither by any ancient State, that for cause of honour, or wants of proof in investigation of truth, they should have recourse to combat; nor Aristotle, Plato, or any other philosopher, or Lawgiver, did ever approve or so much as know this monstrous manner of conflict: and although Aristotle affirm, in the places by you cited, that revenge ought to be made, & that supportation of injury, is a kind of servitude, yet he meaneth not this should be performed by an unjust mean, but by a mean just, & as the laws command: for as it is not lawful to recover goods from the these by proper force, so ought it not to be lawful by the same means to recover honour: & no less in the one than other case, we ought to have recourse to the magistrate. Of the same opinion was Plato, for he decreed in the eleventh of his laws, that the injuried by words, should not offend the iniurier, but rather with modesty excuse himself, of the vice objected unto him: & in Crito: that we should not injury others, though by them we had been offended, for upon what occasion foever we offend another, it is always evil done. In Gorgia he showeth how we should serve our turns with rhetorical Art, to accuse malefactors, that they might be chastised. Out of which positions, this conclusion may be drawn, that the injuried is not by himself to work revenge, seeing that would ever be but evil done, but to accuse the iniurier to the magistrate, who stands to preserve universal good: What will you answer, replied count Scanned. to Paris de Puteo, who proveth the justice of combat, from the universal justice of war, by God permitted, as we read in so many places of the scripture by him cited: as also the reasons of Possevino, who affirmeth, that Combat is lawful, seeing by that means a man may recover the most precious of all other goods, which is honour. Paris de Puteo, answered Gualinguo, was a good doctor, in his profession, of the Law, although he were somewhat harsh in expressing his conceits, and was the first that advanced this argument of Combat, giving precepts thereof: not withstanding, inclining to evil custom, he laboured to show, that combat had in it some point of justice: but he reasoning from universal war, to this particular battle, which we call Combat, cannot formally conclude: seeing this, not only is not comprehended under that general kind, but is further from it, altogether diverse: And therefore we must observe, that general war is lawful, for no other respect, but because men are not placed under the government of one Prince alone, neither are all states governed by the self same laws; for if it were otherwise, it should not be lawful for one people, to war against another: neither for augmentation of state or any other occasion, considering that by the highest Prince, Law, and justice, every differêce would be determined, and if any people or citrie should attempt to right themselves by arms, as contemners of the Laws, and rebels to the Prince, they should be incontinently punished; but for that the dominion of the earth is divided into diverse principalities, they having no superiors, make Mars judge of their controversies, and put over their right to Arms: War is therefore lawful, for want of a public revenger of injuries, & therefore God commanded his chosen people, that they should take up arms, for their defence, & slay their enemies, minding they should be ministers of divine justice. But this battle performed between two particular men, shall never be lawful, which we do call Combat. Seeing particular men, have a Prince, law, and magistrates, whom it concerneth to revenge injuries, and determine controversies, which may fall out betwixt particular men. And if Possevino had said, that Combat is an unlawful and unjust mean to recover honour, he had well spoken: For combat offendeth the magistrate, and contemns the laws: they entering into combat carrying this mind, to revenge injury with their proper hand, & by a wicked and insufficient mean to attempt, the finding out, and proof of truth, not considering that the laws and magistrates, take order for men injurious and liars. And yet combat as a thing lawful, said Count Alfonso, hath been granted even by the high priest himself, as we read of Pope Martin, who permitted that two brothers, who had brought into the field two armies face to face, should between them two perform the combat, committing unto the hand, sword, and most uncertain lot, the title of that principality, whereof betwixt themselves they contended. And further, they which make Combat lawful, are of opinion, that it may be granted, when by other mean we can not attain to knowledge of truth, as if combat were lawful in the same nature, as are those kinds of torments, wherewith the Criminalists serve their turn, to make malefactors confess.  
Combat was justly permitted by Pope Martin, between those brethren, said Gualinguo, as also that in Spain. between two cousins allowed by Scipio, who contended about principalities: and no less just were the conflicts of the Horatij & Curiatij, and it may ever be lawful to put two men's lives in danger, for preservation of a thousand others: But it can neither be a thing honest nor just, to search out truth, by way of combat; for it is a most fallacious proof, in that the liar, may vanquish as well as the other with truth on his side. What is to be done then, said Count Guido, when we cannot attain to knowledge of truth? That which the laws command, answered Gualinguo, which is, the Defendant to be free, when the Plaintiff cannot prove, either by witness, writings, or some other faithful testimonial; and these failing, other proof is no way requifite, or upon this to undertake Combat. Put we the case, replied Calcagnino, that one call an other traitor, or object unto him, that he hath committed some one of those malefacts, that deprive of honour, and the other denieth it with a lie, what ought the iniurier in this case to do? He is bound, answered Gualinguo, to aver his saying, as before you have understood, and not so doing, he remaineth infamous, as a liar, unjust, and an impeacher of another man's honour: and the Defendant standeth still in his first degree of honour: neither need he upon this to enter the lists: and if he answered (added Calcagnino) to the lie, with a box on the care, or any other blow, would not this be sufficient proof of his saying: He should not only (said Gualinguo) not prove it, but avouching it by no other testimonial, should remain tainted with double infamy: For besides being a false slanderer, he should be an iniurier by deeds, and before I showed you, that they which injury others, fail in justice, and are infamous. They notwithstanding that entreat of Combat, said Count Hercules, have set it down for a certain rule, that injury in words is taken away by the injury of deed, and that a lie is satisfied with a box on the ear, or any blow with what thing else soever, they alleging this proposition for a maim, unto which no answer can be made, that one injury, by another greater than that is clean taken away, and that the injury of deeds is greater than that of words: and this in such a sort is observed for custom, that it is impossible, or at the least very difficult, to introduce any other law, amidst these terms of honour. It is no marvel, answered Gualingno, if those that entreat of combat, cannot speak with any foundation of reason: for necessarily from a matter unjust, many points unjust, and unreasonable must needs proceed: wherefore these men desirous to manage points of honour with combat, and evil custom, have supplanted the laws of honour, and multiplied abuses. I say therefore, that this supposition, that the injury of deeds is greater than that of words, is not only, not always true, but further for the most part false, seeing one may be more defamed by burdensome and opprobrious words, than by the injury of deeds. As for example: he shall remain more dishonoured that swalloweth up the term of Traitor, murderer, or any such like brutish speech, without making revenge, then shall another that takes the Bastanado, a box on the ear, a blow, or any such like injury of deed: for not to attempt revenge of a blow or bastanado, notes small valour, and impotency, but yet is without vice: but closely to digest the name of a traitor or murderer, carrieth with it, not only note of vility, but supposeth the vice in him injuried, objected unto him by the iniurier, and therefore such an one shallbe much more infamous. It may be proved also by this other reason, that contumelious words are apt to impeach an other man's honour, than deeds. For as they affirm, who entreat of combat, there is not so grievous an injury indeed, which with words may not be lenified: which could not be, if words were not much more effectual, as well in ablation, as restitution of honour. It should seem to be a common opinion, said Count Scandiano, that the injury of deeds cannot be removed by words: as also it carrieth some reason: for can words take away a bastanado or blow, and how should they effect, that the scars remain nor in the recevers visage, to his perpetual dishonour? Wherefore there be some, who in making peace persuade the iniuriers by deed, that they make no account to utter some submissive or dastard like speech, for conclusion of peace, and satisfying of him injuried: they alleging, that feathers and words, are carried away with the wind, but deeds continue everlastingly. Such like men little understand the law of honour, answered like men little understand the law of honour (answered Gualenguo) seeing there is not so grievous an injury of deed, which by words may not be mitigated, the which words, though they cannot take away scars in the body or face, yet are they of force to wipe out the spot of infamy, and to retúrne it upon the iniurier, as for example: if the injurying in deeds, shall allege unto the imuried: I confess I have committed an unjust act, in striking you, seeing you are not a person worthy of contempt, and I humbly require pardon of you, with other such like words: who seethe not that the injuried (in respect of honour) by such words, remaineth in far better condition than the iniurier.  
And what think you of that other conclusion (said Turcho) that one injury is taken away by another greater than that? This other conclusion (answered Gualinguo) hath been an occasion to multiply insolences in men, making them prove rather infamous then honourable. Wherefore I say unto you, that injury in words, is properly by words removed, and improperly by deeds: and in like manner, he which iniurieth by words, properly taketh it away by words and witness, and improperly by deeds: as if one should call me traitor, with the lie I properly take away the injury, but if without the lie, I strike or wound him, I improperly return the injury: for by this means I deny not that I am a traitor, neither urge him to prove his saying, although after a certain manner, I manifest him a man worthy of contempt: and therefore he may leave the first, and betake himself to the second quarrel as just, by saying: I will prove upon thee that I am not a man of contempt, & that thou hast unjustly done to strike me, in which quarrel overcoming, the other shall be also convinced of treason: in like manner he improperly, and foolishly returneth the lie, with a box on the ear, the which, or any other blow, though in a certain sort, it noteth him strucken, worthy of contempt, yet doth it not prove or verify the saying of him, who hath injuried by words: in that a box on the ear, or a blow, is not sufficient proof to show that one is a traitor: but rather it plainly testifieth, that the committer of such an act, is a most unjust man, a great iniurier, and wonder of another man's honour: so that they which set down these conclusions, have spoken, not altogether sincerely, following rather, as I have said, wicked custom, than direct reason, and have been, as also now are, the occasions of great inconveniences: for if it were not in use, to return the lie with a blow, there would be but few iniuriers by words, it being hard to find words enough, to aver words injurious, and not proving them, he should continue infamous.  
You sir Knight, said Bevelacqua, have with sufficient sincerity declared, that Combat is an Unjust thing, contrary to human felicity: as also, that it is not grounded upon true, but imperfect honour: and that the Philsopher in politic customs, cannot entreat thereof, but as of a vice, to the end, that by the virtuous man, it may be abhorred. It resteth that you here declare, whom the treaty here of did concern, if it were in use: and this will serve greatly to purpose, seeing in doubtful cases of honour, we shall know whither to have recourse for counsel. Without doubt (answered Gualinguo,) and (be it spoken with leave of your countryman Pigna and Possevino) the argument of Combat is proper to the Civilian, and not to the moral Philosopher, as he is a Moralist: and this I will manifest unto you, by infallible arguments: And first, the Cruilian intends that honour, whereof every one maketh profession, upon which Combat is grounded: For the laws punish detractors from other men's honours: and in like manner, declare who are infamous, chasticing many offences with the punishment of infamy: Secondarily, combat is either by law (as it appeareth by the law of Lombardy) or else by custom: the Civilian is he which intendeth laws and customs, and ruleth and ordaineth them: Thirdly, the terms which in combat are used and expressed, are proper to the Civilian, and by him are defined, and considered, as assailant, defendant, quarrel, bills of challenge, to provoke, maintain, and such like, therefore combat is proper to the Civilian: Fourthly, the bill and quarrel which by mean of Combare direct to the tribunal of arms, hath the self same proportion, and like rules, as hath the Book and action, which direct to the seat of justice: the Civilian therefore being he that censureth the Book and action in place of judgement, it is as convenient that he scame the bill, and order the quarrel by combat, in it expressed: Fiftly, the Civilian determineth all manner of injuries, as well by deed as word, having respect to the condition of the persons, place, and time; for repelling of which injuries, Combat is introduced, therefore Combat is a subject appropriate unto the Civilian: Sixtly, the Civilian is he that pronounceth and decideth, whether the quarrel deserveth to be put to trial of arms; for when we may understand by other mean, who is honourable, and who dishonourable, it is not lawful to come to combat: Last of all, the Civilians be they, that entreat and ordain, touching all sorts of torments used for investigation of truth; combat therefore being (as the same writers thereof affirm) a kind of torment to find out the truth, when by other mean it cannot be known, it will follow, that to entreat & order well combat, belongeth to the Civilian.  
Though so many and firm reasons were not sufficient to persuade, yet common use & experience might serve the turn; seeing ordinarily in occasions of combat, the Combatants were wont to be advised by Doctors of the law, as appeareth by the sundry opinions of most excellent Civilians, which are yet in Print; besides those good Authors that have entreated of combat, were Civilians, as doctor Paris de Puteo, and Mutius, who always used juridical terms, propositions, & suppositions, agreeable to the proper argument and matter by them handled; so that Possevino and Pigna needed not have said, that the Lawyers usurped to themselves this matter of Combat, belonging properly to Politic customs; for, beside that we have convinced them, they themselves entreating of it morally, have run into inexcusable errors, and infallibly proved, that the argument of combat, concerneth not the Moralist, but the Civillian. Me thinks said Count Scandiano, that this treatise more befitteth a Soldier than a Roabed man, seeing unto him books be proper, and the management of arms to the Soldier; first because combat is borne between the sound of trumpet and drum: secondly in that the soldier determining of general war, and discipline military, he may the better likewise, dilate of war single, and particular, for so is combat: considering that under the universal the particular is comprehended. Soldiers according to their principles can not discourse of combat, answered Gualinguo, because the precepts, wherewith war general is rused, are wholly contrary to combat. Art military, in general war, ordaineth all advantage, approveth all odds and inequity, as well in the number of men, as of arms, and places vantagious for battle: and commendeth him that can subdue, by all manner of stratagem, policy, and deceit; whereas in single fight, we detest all advantage and subtlety, and seek equality, to the end, victory may only depend on proper valour; but further, combat not only doth not advance, but iniurieth also profession military, and therefore by it ought not only, not to be directed, but further wholly excluded: for combat causeth seditions, maketh soldiers insolent, and disobedient to the magistrates of the field, which by the same military art, were ordained for to determine all differences and brawls, which fall out among soldiers: to the end, that peace maintained betwixt friends, they might with greater valour make war Upon the enemy; and therefore the Romans did not only punish those, which durst fight singly amongst themselves, but then also, who without consent of the magistrate performed combat with the enemy, as we read of Manlius Torquatus, who caused his victorious form to be strucken with a scimitar, having performed combat with an enemy, without licence from the magistrate. But leaving examples, & coming to common practice and use, let us see whether the problems and conclusions, which by combat are determined, have any similitude with the other of profession military, and general war.  
In combat it is determined betwixt the assailant and defendant, of injuries and oppression, as well in words, as deeds: of the lie, of the form of bills, of the manner of sending these bills, of challenge, of laying out the field, according to form of patent: and further, many other questions are discussed, as, whether the quarrel deserve to be referred to proof of arms, if after the defiance upon any sudden occasion we may refuse to come to battle, whether a man half subdued, and by a lie having the better of the field, may demand a new day: who ought to be admitted to combat, and who not, of the election of Arms, whether one may fight by his champion, of the difference of nobility, as well in private men, as in great states and princes, with other such like points. In general war, it is principally discussed, how to set an army in order to fight, the manner of arming it for obtaining of victory, in what order they are to move forward, and march with the army, and how, and in what situation they are to take up their lodging, and after what manner to fortify and entrench, to prepare and convoy victual, to raise fortifications, of the manner how to defend and assail, of stratagems, or as we may say, of military deceits, with other like points, the which are altogether diverse from those which in Combat are decided; and therefore we must conclude, that soldiers, as being soldiers, may well manage arms and perform combat, but not dispose of it, according to principles of military profession. Fortitude being the principal virtue of soldiers, said Bevelacqua, & in combat aswell the fortitude of the body as mind being exercised, I would also have thought, that it had properly appertained to soldiers to define of combat, especially, having seen in Print, diverse opinions touching the same, of famous and worthy Captains, who are reputed amongst the chiefest and best: and further, I saw in France while I was resident in the court, that upon question and difference of honour, Gentlemen rather repaired to soldiers than Doctors, accepting of their opinions, as they had been oracles. That fortitude practised in Combat (answered Gualinguo) is not the same which is the proper virtue of Art Military: because that with virtue, and this being far remote from justice, is accompanied with vice: and therefore we may truly say, that in combat we rather practise force and dexterity of body, than that fortitude, which is a virtue of the mind. Touching your having seen Captains write, discourse, and entreat of points of honour and combat, yielding therein their judgements, this concludeth not that it is a proper office belonging to that Art; for they do this by a certain practice and natural judgement, or peradventure, as men not only in war, but also in other disciplines experienced. By those reasons therefore we have alleged, and others which to them we mind to add, the error of Possevino shall be clear unto you, who vainly excludeth Lawyers from the subject of combat: and you shall observe, that by Lawyers or Civilians, I understand not law givers: for they being most wise, and creating laws, as inspired by a divine spirit, cannot make any one law, which shall not be most just and godly: and therefore these aught, not only, not to discuss of Combat, but even wholly to exclude it, as Unjust: But by Lawyers, I mean, those that interpret, counsel, and judge according to the laws, unto whom the treaty thereof out of doubt apperrameth, as also to dispose of Combat, if it were in use: and likewise to counsel in points belonging to that honour, whereupon Combat is grounded.  
And this shall be the better known unto us, if we do but consider the terms, questions, & rules, which about Combat are frequented: For we shall find them either the self same, or altogether like them, which the lawyers have every day in hand. And as for the persons that enter into combat, who can deny that the terms of assailant & defendant (as we have said) be not properly belonging to Lawyers? and that the Lawyer doth not declare, who is the assailant, and who the defendant, as also what is the office of the assailant, and what belongeth to the defendant. And coming to the bills; who will deny, that they carrying, with them the similitude of those books that advocates carry in their hands, belong not to Lawyers to be prescribed and framed, they differing in no other respect, but that in the bill, honour is demanded, and in the book, goods, and many times also honour: and that the bill citeth the defendant, to the tribunal of arms, and the book to the tribunal of the laws and magistrate? then passing over to laying out of the field, what is this laying out of the field, but the electing of some spacious place, where the strife is to be determined, about which if any question arise, who is to decide it but the Lawyer? who likewise is always he, that giveth sentence, whether the judge be competent or no. In Combat injuries are debated, which be opprobrious, and which not: And who can better distinguish of this then the Lawyer, who hath justice for his proper object, and whose property it is to consider all kinds of justice, and injustice, and consequently of injuries, which be the principal, part of injustice? Neither Possevino nor Pigna would deny me, if they were living, that it concerned the magistrate, to distribute punishment towards those that are injurious: and if this be true, how could he make just distribution if he knew not, and did not distinguish all kinds of injury. In combat the lie is discussed, and question moved, which is a prevalent lie, and which none: & this appertaineth to the lawyer; for the magistrate punisheth lying, and especially that which to another man's loss and reproach, is told, and therefore it is necessary he understand which is prevalent, and which not, for the prevalent lie is given as stirred up by an injury, and therefore is exempted from punishment, if he to whom it is given, prove not his objection true: and the insufficent lie is that which is not given upon receipt of an injury, and because in this case it savoureth of injury, as accusing his adversary of slander, it ought therefore to be punished.  
In combat the first of any other thing, it is debated, whether the quarrel deserve to be put to trial of arms; and this is proper to the Civilian: first, because the determination of such questions is contained in the Lombard law: secondly, for that the Lawyer is he that judgeth, whether the civil trial of the cause made, were sufficient or no: for if it were sufficient proof of arms ceaseth: in combat, the disparity and inequality of the combatants is called into question, and who may be admitted, who refused: and this is also a discussion belonging to the Lawyer: For he being conversant, not only about justice commutative, but also concerning that distributive, being no other but to distribute punishment, and rewards, with geometrical proportion, of necessity he must needs know those offences that make an other worthy of chastisement and infamy: as likewise the actions, that are meritorious of reward and honour; and consequently, that he determine who ought to be refused as infamous, and who as honourable to be admitted to the trial of arms: in combat also is debated the distinctions of Nobility, as well of private men as of Princes: and this also belongeth to the Civilian, who respecteth the degrees and qualities of persons, to distribute justly and with proportion, reward, and punishment. Those rules also, which in combat are observed, are proper to the Civilians, being the self-same that are observed in civil judgements. In combat this is observed: that after the challenge is accepted, it is not lawful for the combatants to offend one another, but in the determined day of battle: this precept is like to that which saith, during the suit let there be no innovation of any thing, and whosoever disturbeth the possessor, the suit still hanging, is intended to be fallen from all his right and title: in combat is this other point: that he which appeareth not in the field on the day prefixed for battle, is intended to have lost his whole interest: and this also is decided by the Civilians, who say that allawes exclaim against the man stubborn and contumacious.  
This other rule is also averred, that the day and time of battle expired, and the assailant not proving, the defendant is intended to be victor, this being likewise a maxim with the Civilians, the law affirming, that the assailant not proving, in the prefixed and instant time, the defendant is absolved. To conclude, there is not any thing in combat, which doth not resemble those points handled in the laws. Proceed no further, said Count Alfonso Turchi, because now we are sufficiently satisfied, that in doubts, I will not say, appertaining to Combat (seeing God be thanked) it is no more in use, but pertaining to the honour, whereof every one maketh profession, we must have recourse to the Civilian, and not to the Moralist, the honour whereof he entreateth, being from this very diverse. Notwithstanding the use of combat be taken away, said Count Guido) yet are neither brawls, nor tumults removed, which every day be stirred up, with great effusion of blood: the which, in that by combat they can not be defined, there is an other invention diabolical enough found out, which is not Combat, and that is the field, whither Gentlemen of honour oftentimes run to decide their quarrels with arms: And this manner of fight is now in such use, as I am doubtful, whether a man of honour offered the field, may refuse without presumption of cowardice. As in Civil judgements (said Gualinguo) the defendant is not bound to answer the plaintiff, except there be compotent court and judge assigned him, so that defendant, who to the Tribunal of Arms is cited, need not there appear, without a secure field and judge: and refusing, he ought not only, not to be held as a Coward, but further, a man of honour: For it is proper to the eves, murderers, and ruffians to fight in woods and solitary places, and for Gentlemen of honour, to perform battle, in the presence of Princes, and many knights, to whose judgement the Combatants refer themselves. And from those Lords in the field, they receive (as from competent judges, the patent of their victory, and in what manner they have subdued. Necessity maketh many things lawful which are unlawful, (added Calcagnini) and there is no doubt, but if combat were in use, the field might lawfully be refused: but not being able by other means then this to end quarrels, it seemeth the injuried, which is Assailant, hath in a certain sort discharged his honour, when he hath urged the field of his defendant, & the defendant not accepting of it, he incurreth suspicion of timidity and slender valour: and touching the circumstance of a secure judge and field: what better judge, or truer testimonial of victory can there be, than the sword? For to return from Battle with the sword bloody, and unwounded, noteth that Combatant victorious: and on the contrary, to remain dead, or grievously wounded, is a sign of vanquishment: Moreover, combatants go not into the field alone by themselves, but for security, each one carrieth with him a confident friend, of unspotted fidelity, or some Gentleman of honour, who after performance, giveth testimony of the valour and victory of the Combatants.  
The sword (replied Gualingno) cannot be a sincere testimony, nor a just judge, for we see, that he mortally wounded, hath first before his death taken prisoner his enemy, and the Confidents, by being each of them partial to their Champion, are not faithful testimonies of valour and victory: and we see by experience, that seldom times they carry in mind the circumslances of the conflict, in recounting the fact: upon which afterwards questions have risen, and fresh quarrels, both betwixt them, as also between the Champions: So that in any wise the field is to be avoided, being contrary to all law, and ancient custom of Knighthood, apt rather to frame new, then to take up old quarrels. What must we then do, said Bevelacqua) is it necessary we continue always in Bralles, finding no mean to determine them? Not so (answered Gualinguo) but they must be decided, as divine and human laws command, that is, peaceably, and so, as honour by them may be restored, who have usurped it. As this is a most singular and religious mean, so comprehendeth it very great difficulty, said Scandiano; for in peace nothing else being sought after, then to reduce the parties to equality, or that such a peace should be effected, as that the injuried, and the injurying, might remain equally possessed of honour: be it not therefore troublesome unto you Sir knight, discoursing yet somewhat further, to deliver also in this point your judgement and opinion.  

Of the mean how to make peace, and take up quarrels.  
IN that he injurying (answered Gualin.) as before I have said, cannot in honour be equal to the injuried, no more can he not in reconciliation, & coming to peace, obtain with him equal condition. For the iniurier shall ever be taxed, having by injury failed in justice, & he injuried not having extremity, offended against any virtue, especially when in receiving it, he hath performed his part, shall not have lost his honour, & therefore the iniurier making peace, cannot absolutely recover his honour justly lost, nor be equal to him injuried. This is a plain paradox (replied Calcagnino) altogether contrary to a common opinion, for in concluding peace, it is held for certain, that the vantage remaineth on the offender's side, especially when he hath performed some notable injury, as that of deed: this being confirmed by the authority of the Philosopher, in the first of his ethics, where he saith, that the iniurier hath in him more good than he injuried. This (said Gualin.) is the foolish vulgar opinion, which holdeth for courageous, valiant, and honourable, the proud, insolent, and those ready to injury others; and conceive not, that the greater the injury is they offer, be it by word or deed, the more unjust and wicked the iniurier is: and that this is true, the laws severely punish such like iniuriers, not chasticing them injuried, as those without vice, and who will deny, that they are not also infamous, which are by the laws and magistrate punished? Touching the authority of the Philosopher, you shall consider that good is of three natures, good profitable, pleasant, and honest: when it is said, the iniurier hath in him more good, it is intended by profitable & pleasant, and not that honest good, which also comprehendeth honour: for of this the injuried hath better store, he having no ways failed in justice: wherefore, if the iniurier rejoice in himself, that in force, riches, and friends, he is more mighty than the injuried, the other may comfort himself, in that he is more participant of honour, being without vice. I see not how it can be, (added Calcagnino) that the injuried should have more honour, than he injurying, considering the laws and magistrates command and enjoin the iniuriers to restore honour to the injuried. And they that challenge Combat, or come to question and debate, be no other but those injuried, who by this means assay to recover that honour, which by the injuried hath been usurped: & in entreaty of peace, it is ever required, that the iniurier restore honour, this being a manifest sign, that he hath not only his own, but that he also retaineth that of another man's, being of the injuried: and consequently that he hath the vantage in honour: what say you to this? Before I make you answer (said Gualin) I will put you in mind of what I said, entreating of honour: for honour is lost, by failing in justice and valour: unto which I add, that the offence of justice is far more grievous, and that which is more accompanied with vice, and by the laws punished, then is the offence of vility or cowardice, seeing the not revenging of an injury, is after a certain manner without vice, and therefore not punishable Further, you shall note, that he injurying, in offering injury, not only looseth his honour by failing in justice, but moreover, staineth the reputation of him injuried, by bringing him in suspicion of vility, and making him to be esteemed a man worthy of contempt: observe that I say by bringing him in suspicion, seeing if it were manifest that the injuried in the same instant he received it, performed his part and endeavour, he could not be reputed vile, although through inequaltty or so me other advantage, he were wronged: but contrariwise, the iniurier in such a case should remain noted, with double reproach, that is, both with injustice and cowardice, for to offend with advantage, discovereth vility and want of valour: and therefore the injuried is urged as well in civil judgement, as before the Tribunal of arms, to prove that he injurying, hath offended him by advantage & inequality, or by some bad mean, for justification of his own self, that he hath not failed in valour, and that the iniurier hath failed both in one and other. Now from this I have spoken, it followeth that the offerer of injury, remaineth absolutely infamous, and the receiver somewhat touched and blemished: but because it is in the iniuriers hand, to wipe out the blot of him injuried, by manifesting his own injustice, and the innocency of the other, therefore it is said, he retaineth the honour of the injuried, and that to him it belongeth, to make restitution thereof.  
Whereupon the Magistrates and laws enforce the iniurier, to restore honour with his tongue to him injuried, which is no other, but to confess himself culpable, and the injuried innocent, as also in making of peace, the self same is sought after, which is, that he injurying acknowledge, that he injuried is not worthy of contempt, and that he is a man of valour: in which act questionless, the iniurier remaineth with the disadvantage of honour: and therefore as I have said, the Magistrates compel them who impeach other men's honour to make restitution thereof, after this manner, to the end that for penalty of their offence, they may receive infamy: considering that the iniurier cannot restore honour, but he himself must rest somewhat attainted. If this truth were as well known touching injurious men (said Gualinguo) as in this point I am fully satisfied, they would not be so hard, to conclude peace: for men finding themselves offended, think it unpossible, especially being by some injury of deed, that any means may be found out, whereby in capitulating peace, they should not rest far inferior in honour to the iniurier. And if the self same (said Bevelacqua) were by the iniuriers foreseen, they would never be brought to peace: and so necessarily there would be continual quarrel, to the special discommodity of the commonwealth. And Gualinguo: Although in working peace, honour cannot equally be balanced, between the iniurier, and injuried, yet for all this the offender must not refuse to restore honour to him offended, when this by an honest mean may be done, and it shall be a means honest, when he by such an action resteth not infamous: & not doing this he declareth himself unjust, no otherwise then he, who forcibly retaineth other men's goods: wherefore those that solicit peace, aught by all industry, to find a mean, through which, with all the equality possible, honour may be distributed between the iniurier, and injuried: neither can there be a better mean found out for persuasion of peace, then when it is made known both to the one and other, as also in my judgement, those men are not to be harkened unto, who setting down courses for proeuring of peace, respect not, so that peace may ensue, though the one rest with honour, & the other with reproach, by persuading the iniurier that he cannot commit a thing more unjust or dishonest then to retain another man's honour, and as in offending he showed himself superior, so he ought not to refuse, for satisfaction of him offended, to manifest himself inferior, as also that this mean is convenient for a man penitent and sorry for his fact. Yet this course is not honest for them that esteem the honour of the world, or that would preserve their good opinion.  
Therefore I am not of their opinion that say, there be offences so extron me and grievous, as that no mean can be found to satisfy him offended, exccept he freely remit and forgive them: For, to come to peace by such an act, is rather the part of a rash and foolish man, than of one honourable. This free remission, is blamed by Possevino, Mutio, and Attendolo, said count Alfonso, and therefore I am doubtful to commend it: There cometh a doubt to my mind, said Scandiano:) You said that he injuried, was touched in honour, thorough the suspicion that he had failed in valour, or was worthy of contempt; and therefore that he is bound, for disburdening of himself (as by the other urged) to cause debatement in civil judgement, or combat, of the inequality, cuil mean and injustice of the iniurier. Put we the case, that one perform an injury hand to hand, and without inequality, or advantage, in this point, who shall remain with advantage of honour? You must observe, said Gualinguo, that there are and may be two sorts of iniuriers, in themselves very different: which diversity is gathered from diverse ends; for one is principally intentive to pleasant good, and the other to good, honest. He intentive to pleasant good, is the first in offending by words, deeds, through malignity and envy, or to show himself the more mighty and gallant: And this man offending whomsoever, resleth in worse condition of honour, than he injuried: notwithstanding it is certain if they offend with inequality or advantage, and by evil mean, he remaineth double infamous: because he cometh to fail, not only in justice, but also in valour. He intentive, one good honest, is not first offending: but being provoked, maketh revenge with his own valour, returning to the first iniurier, the burden and wrong. Now and if so be he do revenge without advantage, his condition is much better than that of the injuried: For he showeth himself, truly valiant, and unworthy of contempt, committing no unjust act, but in contemning the laws, and Magistrates, at whose hands he is rather tied to seek revenge, then of himself, to the end Magistrates (as we have said) in a City be not in vain: but this normitie is so by custom admitted, that such an iniurier (although he revenge in cold blood) is esteemed far more honourable, then is the other that hath recourse to the Magistrate: considering that this repairing to the Magistrate, breedeth suspicion of small valour, & impotency: and to revenge of himself, noteth the contrary. You will then infer said Scandiano, that he which offendeth without manifest occasion, or not being provoked, in what manner soever he iniurieth, by himself alone, or otherwise accompanied, resteth more dishonourable than he offended: for in him is discovered that defect, which principally despoileth of honour, being want of justice: and in the injuried only want of valour appeareth, which is without vice, but yet so, as he that hand to hand offendeth by an honourable means, & for revenge of a manifest injury, remaineth honourable, and his adversary infamous, because he showeth himself valiant, and unworthy of contempt, being no more unjust than he, who by his proper force will rather take his goods out of the thieves hand, then acknowledge it from the magistrate: And this your opinion pleaseth me so much the more, in that it swerveth not from the common custom of gentlemen, and of those who make profession of honour, who should seem in their honour interessed, nay and unworthy to bear arms, if they sought revenge of a received injury rather from the laws and magistrates, then of themselves.  
Thus much I will infer (sade Gualinguo) and further therewith conclude, that in according peace, honour cannot be equally balanced, between the offender and injuried. Notwithstanding by the solicitor thereof it may so be counterpoised, as that there shall be no true difference, or at least wise very apparent, that may import so much as once more or less, and I say apparent, because sometime it is necessary, to deceive and outshoote them, that to peace would be reduced, neither for this shall one demerit the blame of a deceiver: For the end of the best Citizen is, the felicity of his common wealth, therefore it shall be permitted him to deceive some particular man, for the taking away of sedition, which disturbeth the general quiet of a whole City; as also this deceit will be commodious to them deceived, no less than are those pills, which the Physician sweeteneth, to the end the patiented, not displeasing his taste, may be reduced to health. Now vouchsafe I beseech you, said Scandiano) seeing with so effectual reasons you have excluded combat, to dilate somewhat concerning peace, instructing us, how we may or aught to deceive the seditious, for reducing of them to peaceable condition. As there is not (answered Gualinguo) a thing more impious and prejudicial than combat, so I am of opinion, that in the whole world (as the giver of health well showeth) there is not any thing that bringeth with it greater felicity, than beautiful peace: as likewise there is not an action more worthy, or beseeming a Gentleman, as by Plutarch it was thought, than to solicit peace: It shall not therefore grieve me upon this point to deliver some general rule: For it would be difficult for me, and to you very tedious, if I should touch all those particular occurrences, wherein, and for which, peace is to be treated of. Supposing therefore, which otherwhiles I have showed, that the first offender looseth his honour through the offence of injustice, as also the injuried thorough suspicion of having failed in valour, or to be worthy of contempt, it is necessary, that in treaty of peace, both the one and the other of these offences be diminished, and after such a sort excused, that through them the offenders rest not manifestly dishonoured.  
It seemeth that the offence, especially of the iniurier, is mitigated, or at least excused by two means: one is, when in accusing him, we blame any one of those passions and sudden motions of the mind, unto whose force it is hard, or in a manner impossible to resist, as are anger, disdain, love, jealousy, fear, and such like forcible affections. The second mean is, when the iniurier chargeth himself with ignorance, not that ignorance, which is proper to wicked habit, but with the other particular, which rather deserveth the name of error, then of offence, being the same which is connerfant, about the circumstances before by us recited, as if he shall confess to have offended, not knowing the quality of the person, or his desert, and not imagining in such an action to have injuried, as also he did it not to overcharge him, or as wrongly informed, and such like: suspicion of vility in him injuried shall be diminished or taken away, by showing the sudden lighting of the blow, that either for some former or present malady, he was weak: by being at the same instant he was injuried, in the presence or privy chamber of the Prince, or of some others, where he was bound to reverence, for doubt of inequality in party or such like.  
It should not appear (said Scandiano) if that it be true which they entreating of Combat affirm, that the act of cowardice is excused by suspicion of une qual party: whereupon if one accompanied, provoke or assail another alone, he by himself showing cowardice, cannot be excused by inequality of party, except he see himself fight against the arms of two several men: And this their reason is grounded upon that your inward supposition, that every man is honest, if no action appear to the contrary.  
Being therefore to imagine, that the companions of the assailants are just, there shall be no reason to fear their offending, except it appear manifestly. And yet in this I am very doubtful, for as in general battle it is great advantage, to daunt the enemy at the first sight, with great number, so will it be in any brawl a special advantage, at the first meeting, by a multitude of complices, to strike terror into an enemy alone.  
Say it whosoever will (answered Gualinguo) but to assault, or challenge, being accompanied, one alone, is an unjust act, and noteth small valour, although no other draw their sword then the assailant: neither can he defiled or assailed, presume upon such honesty in the others companions, as that the doubt of their injustice shall not be greater: so that in such a case, he offended may always excuse himself, with probable presumption of inequality. That this is an action scarcely befitting an honourable Gentleman, Ariosto declareth (said Count Alfonso) in his three and twenty Canto, saying.  
They would full feign have gone, but of their company  
The Count accepted not: though honest 'ttwere and good:  
And with this reason strait, he did them satisfy:  
That in a warrior no disgrace was understood:  
Like as, when to the field his foe he doth defy,  
And brings for aid and help, a friend, or slander by.  
But to return to our purpose of peace, although the general rule you have set down, concerning entreaty of peace be good, yet rest I not satisfied, except you also proceed unto points particular, the which (though unto you Sir Knight, it seem impossible to comprehend, the accidents being in a manner so infinite) yet in my judgement, they may be reduced under two principal heads, as likewise all injuries and offences. For either they be injuries of words, or deeds: displease it not you therefore to answer, and deliver your opinion, to such demands as shall be propounded, touching the conclusion of peace: And Gualin: Although this argument requireth longer and deeper consideration, notwithstanding, as taken suddenly, I will endeavour to give you satiffaction, and if I do no other good, yet shall give you occasion, to meditate better thereon. Put case (added Turcho) that one had injuried by words, reproving another of injustice or vility: and if that he injuried, returned it not with a lie, but swallowed up this injury: in what word could the offender restore honour, so as he himself might not be touched? The general rule in this case, as in alother, may serve the turn (answered Gualinguo) For it the offender offered not injury in cold blood, which is called an innocent and inexpected chance, as many times it happeneth, playing, talking, or discussing any matter; in such a case we may attribute the fault to anger: for anger, as the Philosopher affirmeth in the first of his Ethics, mitigateth greatly the offence of injustice, in that it seemeth the beginning of action, proceedeth not from him angry, but from the other, gining the occasion of anger: but if he did it in cold blood, which is termed a case premeditate, it may be excused by ignorance. In the first case the offender, shall say to the iniutied, I overcome with the fury of anger, and being without the bonds of reason, injuried you thus, or thus in words: now taking you for an honest man, and unworthy of contempt, penitent for whatsoever I have spoken to your dishonour, I requesting you to be my friend: The injuried may answer: Seeing you know me for an honestman, and repent you of what you have spoken to my dishonour, I accept you as my friend. The first words disburden the offender, in that the sin of incontinence, though it absolutely deserve not pardon, yet nevertheless, it is worthy of excuse, being a very difficult matter to resist affections, but especially anger.  
The last remove suspicion of vility from the injuried: in the second case, the offender shall say, I through false relation, or probable conjecture, entered into opinion, that you were such or such an one: but now assured of truth, I know you to be an honest man, and unworthy of contempt: wherefore repenting me of whatsoever to your dishonour I have spoken, I desire that you will be unto me a friend: the first words showing, that the offender erred, excuse his injustice: and the last work the like effect, as in the first case, that is, they clear and discharge him injuried.  
And if he ssaundered, (added Bevelacqua) answer the calumniation with a lie, how would you introduce peace: for according to Faustus, it seems this cannot be done, except the iniurier eat his words: & thus doing, he accuseth himself to be malignant & a liar, and so resteth infamous. And Gualinguo: The opinions of Faustus in the subject of honour are so strict, as standing on his foundations, there can no peace be introduced, but that one must remain infamous, which is false: for whensoever in peace it is manifested, that the offence was not voluntarily performed, neither by election, but rather through human fragility, the offender resteth not infamous, although the laws suffer not offences through ignorance to scape unpunished, or whosoever upon any other affection of the mind committed. This shall take no place between particular men, to whom the recovery only of honour, is sufficient. Therefore we will affirm, that such a like quarrel may after this sort be accommodated. The giver of the he, shall say thus: being certified, that you evil informed by one that hateth me, spoke thus injuriously of me, I confess, that notwithstanding you have reported that of me, which is not true, yet have you not lied, wherefore perceiving you to be a man of valour, and honour, I request you to be friends with me. He offered the lie shall answer, I truly wrong informed, and believing that you were such an one, uttered of you these injurious speeches, but now confenssing my error, I know you for an honourable and honest man, contenting myself to be your friend.  
Declare unto me (said Bevelacqua) how in this the honour of the one and other is satisfied: And Gualin: The words of the first lie-giver, have satisfied him offered the lie, because they declare, that he spoke that which in his conceit he believed to be true, although through ignorance as evil informed he spoke slanderously: And the words of him offered the lie, remove the calumniation objected to the Lie giver, seeing confessing, that he is an honest man, he secretly, and by an honest mean, revoketh his saying. Me thinks, said Calcagnino, that in accommodating this quarrel, you proceed contrary to that you ought: for as from the slanderer the quarrel had original, so ought he also to be the first, in speech of reconciliation, yet you set down the contrary. And Gualinguo: You must observe, that in the action of making peace, they proceed contrary to that course in combat; for in combat, the first advancement or setting forward cometh from the assailant, as he that seeketh to recover honour; but in effecting peace, the first to move and speak, aught to be the defendant, as he, that hath to restore honour: further than this, if the slanderer should first speak, it would follow, that he of himself should come to give satisfaction, and revoke his speeches, which could not but turn to his great shame, as Faustus saith. And if he first injurying (said Turcho) should answer the lie with a box on the ear, or other blow, what plaster might be found out fit for the ripening of this impostume?  
Although a blow on the ear, answered Gualinguo, improperly taketh away the lie (as hath been said) the injury of deed not being sufficient proof to show, that another hath committed a particular offence, notwithstanding generally it noteth him strucken worthy of contempt: yet not swerving from this common abuse which reigneth, according to which, he that suffereth such an injury, resteth infamous, peace (in my opinion) may by these words be laboured and procured. Let us therefore imagine, that the injurying had said to the injuried: Thou art a traitor: and after, having received the lie, he had given a box on the ear, or offered some offence of deed, and desirous to restore honour again, he shall say thus: I being wrong informed, entered into wrong opinion, that you were a traitor, and therefore the other day I told you that you were the same, as also I struck you: now being persuaded of the truth, I confess that you are no Traitor, wherefore esteeming you for an honest man, and as one that will urge some revenge upon me, as well for my injury done unto you in words, as also for the other in deed, and repenting myself hearty in having so sore offended you, I do request, that you will be unto me a friend.  
May it therefore please you, (said Count julio) to make known the force of all those simples that do compound this plaster; for when the virtue of the simples shall be understood, it will afterwards be the more easy to apply them to other infirmities: It is not sufficient for a good Physician (answered Gualinguo) to know the simples, but further, it is requisite and necessary that he do understand the infirmity, minding to heal it: and therefore before we proceed any further, let us first of all examine the quarrel; which is the note of infirmity in the offender, and also in the injuried: In this quarrel therefore, on the offender's part there is a great want of justice, and on the part of him injuried, defect of valour, not without suspicion of injustice: out of doubt it is great want of justice to injury an other, first, with words full of untruth, which by the other man's lie is manifested, and afterwards with deed for sustentation of his slander.  
And to support such an injury, is want of valour, for by not attempting just revenge, it is further suspected lest the defect of justice by the iniurier to him objected be true; it is therefore requisite to find out simples, which together compounded, may have virtue contrary to these infirmities, considering that contraries by contraries are oft times cured: and these former recited, shall be the words of him first offending, which correspondent to the quality of the dog's skin, shall be of force to heal this wound and biting: and to the end we may distinctly consider of them, let us divide them into three parts.  
The first words therefore uttered, are of virtue to cure the lie: for they make known that the iniurier hath spoken untruth, he believing otherwise: and that he notwithstanding erred spoke but according to his mind, yet being deceived. The second, which begin: now persuaded or satisfied of the truth, are of force to remove suspicion of the treason to him injuried objected: the rest of the words, wipe out all suspicion of vility in him injuried, and manifest, that he is not worthy of contempt, as also that the offender, is penitent for his unjust fact, through error committed. There is no doubt teplied Turcho, but the offender, by saying, that he injuried, was a man likely to revenge any injury, did free him offended from suspicion of pusillanimity: but thus doing, I can not perceive, how the iniurier should not remain greatly prejudiced in honour; for after a close manner he confesseth, that he injuried, is a man ready to redouble the blows: the which is confirmed by his last words of submission, seeing he requesteth him to be his friend: and as for me, I think it as much, as if he had said, because I know you will bestow upon me some bastanadoes, or blows, I request, you not to offend me, but to be my friend. If to be revenged, said Gualinguo, were always the self same, as to give bastanadoes or blows, you should conclude well; but the matter standeth not so, for it may further be thought, that to carry an injury in n inde, is to seek revenge of the received wrong by his own proper valour, showing unto the world, that he injuried is not worthy of contempt, and because this is an action of fortitude, which principally is a virtue of the mind, & not of the body, it sufficeth in such an action, to show animosity and crourage, accompanying it with that force, which nature to the body hath administered, how great or little soever it be: and therefore such an one shallbe said to have attempted just revenge of an injury, speaking according to common Use, and that by his own proper valour he hath by all means contended after revenge, although either in force inferior to his adversary, or by some other sinister accident, he could not perform his wished desire: for the action of fortitude consisteth not in overcoming, but in fight resolutely for an honest cause: the offender therefore affirming, that the injuried is a man sufficient enough to seek revenge of the received injury, doth not for all this priviely confess, that he is a man that will redouble upon him the blow, or give him some wound; for it may further be understood that he confesseth, and knoweth him a man sufficient to call in question, or make trial of revenge, with his own proper valour through the virtue of fortitude which is in him: so that these words, though they restore honour to the injuried, yet cause they not the offender to be infamous, as also it no ways toucheth his credit, to entreat at his hands, peace: for he may be there unto moved, not so much for fear, as through the common desire every wise man hath, to purchase unto himself rather friends than enemies.  
We therefore supposing, that in compounding peace, honour cannot equally be dispensed, and therefore it is necessary, that some fallation be used; these words are most proper, for in that they may be interpreted with divers sense, they are the apt to satisfy, each of the parties, making a construction according to their purpose: and note thus much, that in procuring peace, it is of special importance, to find out words of like signification, for with their plau sibilitie many times, they make that bitter venom, insensible, which infecteth honour: and therefore whosoever desireth to bring peace to a good end, it is necessary he contend more in this, then in any other thing. This is an excellent advertisement (said Turcho) but how would you appease a quarrel, where the injury of words is not returned with a lie, but with deed? as for example, if the offender saying to the injuried, thou art a murderer, he injuried at the same instant should answer him with a blow, and not with a lie.  
Although this be an improper mean of returning such a like injury (answered Gualinguo) yet desirous to make peace, he that gave the blow shall say thus: I having understood, that you rather subdued by force of anger, then by any evil disposition of mind, called me murderer, repent myself that I struck you, seeing I acknowledge you for a man of valour, and sufficient to seek revenge of the injury I did you: and therefore request that you will be my friend. The other shall thus answer: I confess, that overcome by anger, I wrongfully called you murderer, & seeing you acknowledge me for a man of valour, & sufficient to make revenge of the injury you did me, requesting my friendship, I am contented to come to peace, & to be your friend. Questionless these words are of great force (added Turcho) in that they can appease so great a quarrel. And Gua: to the end you may conceive their force, you shall note, that he first injurying, hath put his honour to compromise, through suspicion of two defects, the one is that of injustice, because he offendeth another in word, and the other is by defect of valour, because he putteth up a blow: & the first injuried being the sccond iniurier, resteth in suspicion of some murder: for the blow, though it note the first offender worthy of contempt, yet doth it not deny his objection of murder, nor tie him any ways to aver his saying, although by putting up the blow, it urge him to challenge & assault, enforcing him necessarily to make known to the world, that he is not a man worthy of contempt: It is requisite therefore, for the taking up of quarrels, to find out a mean, & words as apt as may be, for dissipation both of the one and other suspicion: & therefore the first words excuse the injustice of the first offender, because it declareth that the offence was not committed by election, but rather through incontinency, he injuried not having had the power to resist anger, amongst all the affections of the mind, the most violent and furious. The second words uttered also touching the self-same first offender, annihilate the suspicion of vility in him, in that they affirm he is a man of valour, & sufficient to revenge himself of the injury. Then those words which by the first offender and last injuried, are for answer produced, take away suspicion of the murder objected; So that by this mollification, the impostume is lenified, & finally, healed, which seemed at the first sight altogether incurable, except with fire or sword. I judge the quariel far more grievous (said Count Guido) when the lie-giver answereth the bexe on the ear, with a wound or blow, because injuries then redouble of each party, although the first offender and last offender remaineth with vantage of honour. And Gualinguo: Although this infirmity seem incurable, notwithstanding this shall be a convenient remedy, if the giver of the lie, being also he that woundeth, shall say thus, after this manner: I being persuaded that you evil informed, uttered of me such an injurious speech, confess that you have not spoken against your mind, yet I intend not that the lie I gave you, should any way prejudice you in your honour, and knowing you for a man of valour, and sufficient to be mindful of the wound I gave you, or of any other injury I have done you, penitent for my offence, I humbly request you to be my friend. The other shall say thus: It is true that evil informed, I spoke so injuriously of you, but seeing you confess I have not lied, & acknowledge me for a man of valour, & sufficient to revenge myself of the wound you gave me, as also penitent for offending of me, you humbly require peace, I am content to be your friend. Now I comprehend the virtue of these words (said Turcho) & believe that we have in a manner satisfied all occurrences in these contentions, if you would but only show how a quarrel might be taken up, where only an injury of deed hath happened. In this quarrel (answered Gualinguo) the honour of the iniurier standeth doubtful, for the suspicion there is of his failing in justice, as also the honour of him injuried, through presumption of cowardice: or that he is worthy of contempt; it is requisite therefore to excogitate words, that may excuse or remove the suspicion of the one & the other defect: and in my judgement, they may be of this tenor: when I did you such an injury, I took you for a wicked man, and worthy of contempt: Nowesufficiently persuaded of your integrity, and knowing you to be a man of valour, as also sufficient to revenge the injury by me received, penitent for what I have done unto you, I desire that you will be my friend. He injuried shall answer: Seeing acknowledging your error, you repute me for an honest man, and sufficient to revenge the injury by you received, as also penitent for offending me, request that I will be your friend, I am content to have peace with you. By the words which you have declared in other quarrels (said Bevelacqua) it is easy to comprehend the force of these other: notwithstanding I am desirous you would show the reason, why in these treaties of peace, you never use this word, to Pardon, considering, that unto him injuried, it would be greater satisfaction, when the iniurier should say, I request that you would pardon me, than to say, I pray you be my friend. It is true (said Gualinguo) that to him injuried, it would be greater satisfaction, but so it should be too great prejudice to the iniurier; because it is supposed, that setting down of punishment is in the Pardoners hand: whereupon the offender should privily come to confess, that he injuried were far superior unto him, and that at his pleasure he could chasten him, having no other remedy but to crave pardon: and therefore equality in peace by all means possible being to be procured, that other manner of speech is far more convenient, considering that to contend after friendship with his enemy, supposeth neither cowardice nor fear.  
Me thinks, said Count Scandiano, we have left out one kind of quarrel, which peradventure should have been the first according to order, and it is that, where the offences are like: for sometimes it falleth out, that betwixt the one and other party, injurious words pass without any lie given: or else that the one and other resteth equally strucken or wounded, so that I pray you, fail not, to accommodate also this quarrel. Some men hold opinion (answered Gualinguo) that in such like brawls there is no impediment, but to make a good peace, considering that honour by them is so counterpoised, as the one remaineth not in the others debt: Notwithstanding I hold this for a firm conclusion, that by exchange there can no honourable peace be made, and much less in this quarrel, wherein, as the injuries be equal, so is the dishonour between them equal, and therefore I judge it necessary, that as they have dishonoured one another, so that interchangeably by words, they restore honour: therefore in coming to peace, he from whom the brawl had his original shall say thus: In that I know you for an honest and valiant man, it grieveth me of whatsoever hath passed betwixt us, and I request you to be my friend. The other shall answer: I having also of you the like opinion, and minding well unto you, gricued for what betwixt us hath happened, I am content to be your friend. In my judgement, this is a good mean to take up such a quarrel, (said Count Alfonso Turcho) but to the purpose of these injuries: there yet cometh into my mind one doubt, whether one challenged to the trial of equal arms, may with his honour refuse, knowing himself in force and skill of weapon inferior to his adversary: By one reason me thinks he should; for God and nature not having equally dispensed their graces: but unto one man given greater perfection than to an other: a man as having reason ought to measure himself, and give place to the other in that, wherein he knoweth himself inferior, the which not doing, he performeth not a virtuous action, and consequently, doth not preserve, but looseth his honour, as rash and arrogant: on the other side, if that be true, which Possevino affirmeth, a man is bound to manifest as great force and policy as the other, and enjoined to defend himself from the same enemy, in all other circumstances having indifferency: I therefore in this, sir Knight, expect your opinion. And Gualin: Supposing that the challenger have just cause so to do; for being otherwise, any one, as insolent, is to be refused, & supposing, that he challenged be an Armiger, intending by such an one, not only a soldier, but any one that beareth arms by his side, I hold opinion that he challenged, cannot with his honour, refuse the trial of arms with his adversary, although in force and knowledge he know him to be superior; for as Zenophon a Philosopher, and most excellent warrior affirmeth, the sword and fortune maketh in battle all force equal. And this opinion taketh not place only in general battle, but also in combat, between particular men: in which, by divers examples, both ancient and of these days it hath been seen, that the weak hath obtained victory against the strong, either by having more mortally wounded them, or by some other accident. This other reason is annexed; that the challenged by all reason hath ever provoked the challenger by some offence; whereupon as the other hath been bold in provoking him, so he challenged must not show himself cowardlike in refusing: & therefore I conclude, that one bearing arms, cannot refuse with honour the challenge of any one whomsoever, although he know himself in force and knowledge inferior to his adversary.  
Your conclusion pleaseth me (said Count Alfonso Turcho) because it is conformable to the rules of knighthood, and common use, notwithstanding from it, me thinks there groweth an inconvenience, for the unarmed touching honour, shall be of far better condition than he bearing arms, as he that injurying, is yet free from challenge: and by this means the way of recovering honour with proper valour, will be shut up tp him bearing arms, as further than so, the terms of justice, would not be equally observed: For the bearer of arms shall be tied to the trial of arms, and the unarmed free. When Gualinguo: if that law which commandeth the plaintiff to appear before the tribunal of the defendant be true, there is no inconvenience will ensue of my conclusion: for he bearing arms, shall be tied to to leave his own tribunal, being the proof of arms, & have recourse for recovery of his honour, to the magistrates, and seat iuditial, it being the proper tribunal of those, that make no profession of arms, and doing otherwise, he should rather diminish then augment his own honour, and though the Armiger bearing of arms cannot refuse, neither seat of judgement, nor tribunal of arms, yet is not his condition for this the worse: First because the seat of judgement is common to all men: secondly, for that the tribunal of arms, is proper to himself. Put we the case (said Bevelacqua) one unaccustomed to bear arms, should challenge another of unlike condition, could he challenged, with his honour refuse the defiance, or should he be bound, upon equal terms, to come to proof of arms? judgement seat (answered Gualin.) belonging both to the one and other, the defendant is not only, not bound to the challenge, but accepting of it, he should perform an act unworthy of a virtuous or honourable man, and show himself no less insolent, & foolish, than his adversary: therefore those quarrels that fall out between such like men, are to be determined, either with peace, or before the magistrates, & as the laws command; for though honour be common to all men, as also the preservation of it, by means honourable is as common, yet be those means very divers, according to the sundry conditions and professions of men. The gentlemen were not yet well satisfied, with reasoning of those things pertaining to honour; when the duchess dwarf came running in, who by order from his highness, went calling of the Ladies & Knights to a comedy prepared by the Gelosi. The discourse therefore ended, Gua. with four other knights went into the hall where was his highness, with all the ladies & gentlewomen of the court: And after having attended, with much laughter and solace a most pleasant comedy, it being now late, the tables were spread; & supper ended, certain measures once trodden, the duke rose up, & every one went to his lodging. The day following, being fair wether, & a calm sea,  
His highness with the excellent Duchess, & part of the court, went to the sea side to see a draft with the nets, and the usual company, with the most noble Lord Don Caesare, and the marquis of Carrara, who had taken great contentment in the discourse of honour, went to the chamber of madame the Countess, where according to accustomed solemnity, the Lady Syluia Villa was crowned Queen: even now lately married, & a young Gentlewoman exceeding gracious, who causing the Ladies and Knights to sit round about her, spoke in this manner.  
Undoubtedly my error should be very great, if I (in a manner being but a child) by imposing new laws to our contentments, should withdraw myself from the accustomed manner. For this would be no other, but by too much presuming of myself, to eclipse the commendation of these three Queens my predecessors, whereof deservedly they may boast and vaunt, who in their Empire procured no less profitable and honest, then delightsome and pleasing entertainments: whereupon by their most happy furtherance, we have learned what thing beauty is, and where it consisteth: we also know what Love is, and how we ought to love: we have in like manner understood what Honour is, and how it is lost, how acquired, and how preserved: which things having well considered with myself, I cannot but greatly commend their wonderful judgement, seeing they have laboured, with our great contentment, to give us knowledge in those things, whereof above all others, they discuss and argue in Courts, amongst Ladies & Gentlemen nobly instructed: I therefore desiring by imitation of their famous virtues, not to manifest myself altogether unworthy of this Empire, have considered, that after honour, it befitteth well to entreat of Nobility, to the end, that we never err in discerning those Noble, from the Ignoble. For it seemeth that riches and sumptuous vestments, are the principal characters of Nobility, we seeing every day, that the rich appearing in costly Robes, make profession of Gentility. And with bold audacity, (not to say presumption) establishing themselves in Princes Courts, are suddenly without any other virtue, as Noble, reverenced, called, & accepted: I command you therefore signor Hercole Varrani, that in favour of me, as also of all these Ladies and Gentlemen, you use some discourse upon Nobility, withal, providing yourself to resolve all the doubts, and answer all the demands that in such an argument shall be made unto you: And certainly signor Hercole Varrani, is a Gentleman adorned with all those qualities, which in a perfect Courtier are principally required. He having therefore done reverence to the Queen, said in this manner: I should repute myself too happy and fortunate (most excellent Queen) in that with singular favour you have thought me worthy to entreat of so worthy a subject, as is Nobility, if I knew not that in your highness mind, a false image of my virtue were deceitfully impressed, I being very privy to myself, that my ssender sufficiency will greatly frustrate your good conceived hopes of my performance. Notwithstanding, seeing your majesty so commandeth, I will accept of the enterprise, holding this for infallible, that disobedience bringeth far greater reproach than ignorance, and pusillanimity, than boldness.    

The fift days Discourse: Wherein is discussed of Nobility,  
THere were some most grave and ancient philosophers, thrice excellent Queen, so great contemners of Nobility, as they constantly affirmed it to be no other, than a light blast of ambition, wherewith same Citizens more mighty than the rest, were puffed up: and if notwithstanding there were any such thing, in the world, it was no whit at all distinguished from virtue, but that the man virtuous and noble, was all one and the self same thing: upon which point having meditated, and being to discuss of Nobility, not to perplex the mind and understanding of the attendant, I will divide this my brief discourse into three parts. First, I will show what Nobility is, and where it consisteth; in the second, I will set down the principal reasons of those philosophers, who contemn it as a thing vain and fantastical: and in the third, I will make answer, and resolve them, to the end our Nobility may remain most noble and apparent. I supposing therefore, that in certain individualles of human kind, there shineth an excellent quality which is termed Nobility, affirm, that it is, no other, than a good of fortune, that happeneth to man in his first original and birth, procured unto him, by the honourable repuration of his predecessors, and glory of his country: by means of which it is worthily supposed, that he is much more capable and appliant unto virtue, than another can be, borne of mechanical parents, in a country obscure. This by a most proper term, was by the Grecians called Eugenia, which signifieth liberal and good birth, or original; conformable to that word, we usealso, to call them noble, well borne. I have affirmed nobility to be a good of fortune, not because nature therein hath no part, but in that, as the Philosopher teacheth, fortune of those things is said to be the occasion, which fall out contrary to the intention of the worker; being therefore nature intention in framing man, to make a reasonable creature, & not one noble, of reason nature is the cause, & fortune of nobility. And I have placed in the definition, that other clause, honourable reputation of his predecessors, as a difference specifical, which distinguisheth this good called Nobility, from all other goods external, as likewise the last words of all, are by me set down, to express in this definition, not only the cause material, formal, and efficient, but also the final: in that Nobility, is for no other respect, by all men had in price and estimation, but only because he noble seemeth borne with a better inclination, and disposition unto virtue, than a plebeian, or one extracted from the common sort. He therefore shall be esteemed more apt unto virtue, and shall be called truly noble, who legitimately descendeth, from men, and women excellent, & famous, either for riches, or those things that most among men are esteemed, & that shall have had many of his race in every age, & of each sex, honourable & renowned, or that shall be borne in a City built and replenished, with men heroical, and glorious: where upon the greater have been the number of his commendable progenitors, the more noble shall he be. Nevertheless, he may be called absolutely noble, who shall have lost the memory of his ignobility, which memory remaineth, during the revolution of three generations: and let this spoken suffice, to make known, that neither riches, nor sumptuous vestiments make a man noble, but further it is necessary, that the renown of his progeny, thereunto concur: for he borne of mechanical parents, although never so rich, cannot come within the compass of this definition: which definition, notwithstanding it be well grounded, yet by some Philosophers, and especially by the Stoics, it is altogether derided, whose reasons having foundation upon great probability, are in no sort to be contemned; They say therefore, that all we springing from a common root, which is God, principal goodness, and highest nobility; every one, though vulgarly extracted, is noble, when not degenerating from his first progenitor, he practiseth virtue: whereas on the contrary, he is truly ignoble, who, notwithstanding he descended from the ancient Heroes, degenerating, addicteth himself to vice: as Boetius affirmeth in some of his verses: which in our tongue, sound after this manner.  
All human kind on earth, that draw their pace,  
From one beginning come, and self same race:  
For one of all things Father is, and guide,  
By whom is governed the world so wide:  
He to don Phoebus gave his beams of light:  
And to the Moon her silver horns so bright:  
The heaven with stars, he hath adorned throughout:  
And earth with creatures, herbs, and plants which sprout  
From whence proceeds this rumour of high blood?  
And vaunts of our great grandfathers so good?  
If first original and birth we way:  
Of each thing maker, God we find always,  
So that none vile, can well accounted be  
But those that follow vice, and virtue flee:  
Abandoning the stock of their degree.  
And Seneca principal of the family of Stoics, writeth these formal words: All men have the same original and beginning, none is more noble than another; but he that hath the better disposition, and apt wit to Arts, and Sciences liberal: They that place upon the gates, or forefronts of their houses, for prospective, the arms, and colours of their ancients, are rather by these noted, than made noble. And the same Author saith: Virtue found not Plato, either noble or reverend, but it so made him. Of the same opinion was Epycharmus the Philosopher and Poet, saying: 
By nature who inclined is to good,  
To be a gentleman is understood,  
Though from an Indian mother he derive his blood.   
And Euripides: 
An honest man is truly noble found:  
But he unjust, from jove although he ground:  
His high descent, with vice his birth doth quite confound.   
And Socrates demanded who was noble, answered: he that is temperate of mind and body. Unto which saying Dant being conformable, affirmeth: Where virtue is, there Gentry sure takes place.  
Furthermore they allege: Nature is a kind mother to all, and a stepmother to none, neither shutteth she up the way of virtue, more to one than another: but maketh every one apt to attain to his proper end, which is felicity: neither doth Scythia, or any other barbarous region, prejudice man's soul; but which is more, if the world were eternal, we are equally placed, in the same course and way of eternity. If that had his beginning from our first Father (as no doubt but it had) we all likewise from the same first father have our beginning and original: which being true, it is madness to affirm that one offpring is more noble than another: and they who puffed up with vain ambition, boast of Nobility, may rather be called fools, than men noble; they argue also from the inconveniences that would ensue, if nobility were grounded on the honour of progeny: for first it would follow say they, that the first virtuous man of a family, he remaining ignoble, should be the foundation of an other man's nobility, a thing repugnant unto reason; for then that axiom, by all the Vnivetsities confirmed, should be false, which is this: Whatsoevet is the cause, that any other thing is as it is, must much more be the same itself: as for example: if fire be the cause that all things have heat, that of all other must needs be hot. Neither prevaileth it to allege, that the like happeneth to him who is the beginning of Nobility, as doth to the point with unity: considering, that though the one being the beginning of quantity continual, and the other of discreet quantity, yet is there neither continual quantity found in the point, nor quantity discreet in unity: for nobility which is a quality of human excellence, hath nothing to do with point, nor unity, which are in a diverse kind: as further than this, unity is comprehended in number; considering that without, one, there can not be twenty, neither can the line, superficies, or body, be without point, whereupon in the number of many men noble, that cause nobility, he first must necessarily be comprehended, who ought to be so much more noble than others, in that he was the author of nobility, & renown of all the others. And moreover, it would follow quite contrary to the rule of the Civilians, that one might give to another, that which he hath not himself: and that he being obscure, might reach honour to another, a thing altogether disproportionable, and dissen thing from reason: It is not therefore to be said, that nobility proceeds from antiquity of blood: for if that were so, the saying of that holy man should be true, that nobility were allied to bricks and tiles, seeing our original also is of the earth. Last of all, they urge that saying of Aristotle, that the beginning is the half of the whole; which being true how should not he be noble, that is the beginning of an other man's nobility, if on him alone depend the scope and end of all nobility? with these & other such like reasons, those wise men conclude, that nobility cannot be the renown of progeny: but that by virtue of itself it is fashioned: in confirmation of which opinion Dant saith: That only he is excellent, who by himself doth shine.  
But notwithstanding all this. I am of opinion, that our conclusion, and definition of nobility is true, and the reasons of these Philosophers vain, and sophistical, which at the first sight appear to be of no small moment. First therefore observe we, that as terms and bounds manifest that to sense, where of any one is possessor, so definition (called of the Grecians by a most proper name Orismi) which in our tongue imports bounds or terms, procure intellect distinctly to conceive the proper essence, of every thing, unto which the Perepateticke having had an eye, of all Philosophers the most sedulous, laboured, undoubtedly with admirable method, of allthings to find out the definitions, considering that this is the true foundation of Sciences, it administering the middle term to perfect demonstration, as the Logicians very well effect: As therefore all things in our mind by definition, are well ordained, & distinguished, so from the same mind definition removed, there is procured a most notable confusion altogether like that, which in the beginning of the world, the Poets fabulosly called Chaos: Therefore it was an opinion of the divine philosopher in Phedro, approved by Cicero, in the first of his Offices, that they who would entreat of any thing, should begin from the definition: which being true, as it is, so they that have entreated of matters with out defining them, have rather bred in the minds of others gross ignorance, then distinct & absolute knowledge. Seeing that from good definition the solution of all doubts which occur in science springeth. Into this error many ancient Philosophers, and diverse modern writers are fallen: and amongst others, touching this subject we now have in hand, the error of Mutius justinopolitane, (a wit questionless very rare) is inexcusable: who refusing the Philosopher's definition of Nobility, hath himself thereof given no definition at all, which may make it distinct in kind, from other things: wherefore, labouring to show contradiction and error in Aristotle, he hath discovered himself to be but vain, and rather a professor of the laws, than a good Philosopher. But further, let us observe lines, which beginning from one centre, extend to the circumference in the same centre, & are both one thing, and divers: so all things created, as from God they take their beginning, be all one, but in respect to divers forms they be ordained, they be divers. If we therefore consider things created in their beginning, which is God, not only men, as these wise men affirm, but all other things also, are equally good, noble, and excellent: but if we consider them according to their exterior forms and kinds, they are between themselves very divers: and therefore the Philosopher in his Divine Philosophy, saith, that kinds be like numbers, minding to infer, that as numbers in unity be the self same thing, neither doth the one exceed the other in perfection, but when from unity they are separate, and fashioned in kind, one is then more perfect and excellent than another. So all the kinds of things, in their beginning are the same, but once framed into form, are divers: further more let us note (and from hence groweth the error of the Stoic, and his followers) that this bounty, excellence, and this their original Nobility, as by proper virtue it cannot be acquired, so may it not by vice be lost, and therefore Lucifer considered in his first instant nature, is no less perfect and noble than other angels: for his sin doth not procure, but as other angels, so he hath had his original from God. Which error they had very well prevented if they had been circumspect, and sought after the definition of Nobility, which is an esteemable condition, that in some individualles of human kind is found: for willing to have defined it, they should not have said, that Nobility was an excellent quality in all things created, depending on their beginning which is god, the father of all things, and that in those things it is preserved, when they abandon not the first root and stock, nor practise not Vice: for they might have perceived, that in this definition, there is a notable error, and most special inconuencience; the error is, that they having to define a particular quality, which in human kind is observed, defined a common quality, which is not only found in divers kinds, but also in many things differing more than in kind: the inconvenience is great, for if their definition were good, an Ass should be of far better condition, than man: in whom as neither virtue, nor vice can concur, so could he never degenerate from his first stock & original; and so consequently, should ever be noble: as on the contrary, a man sometimes virtuous, sometimes vicious, should now be noble, and anon after ignoble. Mutius saith, that Nobility consisteth in perfection in kind, determining to infer, that those things which in their kind are perfect, be truly noble: the which being true, that creature from whose flesh the jews abstain, being perfect, might be numbered amongst those noble: he addeth afterward, as greatly in himself perplexed, that although he descended from ancient lineage be noble, yet is not he so descended, only noble, for by this means, saith he, we should infringe the power of nature and virtue, that they could not generate a new nobility. Mutius therefore contendeth to prove, that there be three sorts of nobility: of the first, conformable to the Perepateticke, he maketh antiquity of blood the author; of the second, nature, drawing near to Seneca, who affirmeth in the place by me cited, that he is more noble than another, whose disposition is better, and wit more apt to liberal arts: of the third sort, he maketh virtue productresse, following the opinion of Boetius, that he is noble, who degenerateth not from his original, and apply himself to virtue. This man questionless in his profession learned, did not mark, that he dividing nobility into two divers kinds, hath not showed nor defined the nearest kind, wherein they agree: for if he had examined his definition, he might easily have foreseen, that they not being to be reduced, under univocal kind, and very hardly under analogy, no more could different kinds be fashioned, after such a manner as he framed them: he hath therefore Vainly alleged, that nature, or the intention of nature, may generate nobility, for as we have declared, nature of herself, is the cause of reason, and by accident of nobility: for if she distribute nobility, as well as reason, all men, as they are reasonable, so should they be noble; but in that the cause of nbilitie is fortune (being a cause contingent) of men we see some noble, others ignoble. That virtue is the cause of nobility we grant, but not the virtue of one alone (as he affirmeth) but rather the virtue of many: we grant also, that nature in respect of herself, is to all a kind and loving mother: notwithstanding let us add, that she working by seed, manifesteth herself a stepmother to some: considering seed from the heavens, places, nourishment, and sathers, receiveth divers disposition, sometimes good, some times bad: whereupon individualles of the same kind (but especially in human kind) as they are of divers temperatures, so in them ditters inclinations, and in their minds different effects and affects are discovered: from whence it proceedeth in reason, that some are esteemed of noble race, and others of ignoble: some ingenious, others stupid: some prevail with force of mind, and are truly worthy to command, and others be as it were lumpish sturdy, with whom servitude better befitteth: Unto which the divine Philosopher alluding saith, that in the generation, of men, there is a mixture in some of gold, and those are always worthy to command, others have commixtion with silver, and these are fit, sometimes to obey, sometimes to command; the third and last sort, participate with iron. Wherefore, as of all others, most vile, they are ever fit to serve, and never to command. Consormable to his master was the great Perepatitian, who showed by most evident reasons, that by nature the Lord and servant was allotted: Nobility therefore is not contrary to the laws of Nature: Because Nature made all things necessary, common to all, and those which are accidental and contingent, she left them subject to instability: for if we see by experience, that in the sons bodies oftentimes, the similitudes of fathers, grandfathers, and great grandfathers are represented, why should we not grant, that in the mind with the body conjoined the like may come to pass? & that in them the like inclination & facility, sometimes unto virtue, and otherwhiles to vice, may appear. This for the most part falls out, whether the world be eternal (as the Perepatetiks falsely affirm) or by the omnipotent God created (as the Dinines sound hold) for that in the course of this mortal life, the variety of reasous, customs, manner of life, norishments, & such like, make near causes different, out of which afterward divers effects are produced: notwithstanding, in my judgement, the opinion of Aristotle is worthy to be approved, that nobility by all men is to be had in estimation: for it is conformable to reason, that from better the better should spring, the which by Horace was confirmed in these verses: 
Strong men do oftentimes children of force upreare,  
The father's virtue, in young heifar doth appear:  
And horses fierce and stout: for silly fearful Dove.  
Had not the Eagle sure for sire, that mounts above.  But to prove the contrary of these arguents, I affirm, that it is, not only no inconvenience, but further it is necessary, that the first virtuous of a progeny, without he himself being absolutely noble, should lay the foundation of an other man's Nobility: and to the end my conclusion may be manifest, we must consider, that as to procure the transmutation of any thing into fire, it is first requisite, that it acquit eight degrees of heat; so to make one noble, it is necessary, that besides his own excellency, he join unto himself the glory at least of iii. other lights, that is, that he be ennobled by three other of his predecessors: whereupon, as that shall not be fire which retains only two or three degrees of heat, although there shallbe fire kindled & begun, so shall not he be noble, that hath only his own private renown to stand upon, although he be the beginning of nobility: neither hath that axiom here any place that saith, whatsoever is the cause, that another thing is as it is, must much more be the like itself: for it hath annexed unto it many limitations; and it may be verified in these causes, which of the Logicians & Philosophers are called, causes rotal, that is, which are of themselves, and only causes: but he which is the beginning of nobility, is not alone the cause of nobility, but concurreth therein, with many other. Let us grant, that he as the point in continual quantity, & unity in discreet, is comprehended amongst those noble, yet not as absolutely noble, but as he that only hath one degree of nobility, being as it were the beginning: confess we also, that one can not give what he hath not himself; and that the first virtuous can not give unto an whole race, nobility: but add we this thereunto, that he may give what he hath, which is that first degree, with his own virtue acquired: and affirm we, that the virtuous son of a virtuous father, is more noble, he enjoying, not only his own, but also his father's glory; though this man also, standing but upon two, descents, cannot be said to be absolutely noble, as that cannot termed fire, which hath only four degrees of heat: lastly, that saying of the Philosopher impugneth not our definition, that the beginning is the half of the whole, because it behoveth, we understand it truly: he minding to infer, that to give beginning to any thing, is of such importance, as it seemeth whosoever hath begun, is at the midst of his work: But granting them that this proposition is true, we may conclude against themselves, that he which is half partaker of Nobility, is not wholly noble: so that to such an one, our definition cannot be applied: which remaineth firm and immovable, that is: that perfect nobility is a good of fortune, derived from the virtue of our progenitors, together with the country wherein we were borne: through which it is supposed, that he noble borne, is more apt and disposed unto virtue than an other ignoble. For if we esteem the goodness of divers creatures, by their races, how much more ought we to prognosticate the virtue of men by his stock, and progeny, considering that not only secret virtue of seed, but also reason doth instigate a man, to imitate the revealed virtue of his progenitors, not to show himself altogether unworthy of their splendour and glory.  
Hear Varano stayed, imagining that he had sufficiently declared, what manner of thing Nobility was, when the Queen made a sign to signor Francisco Patritio, that he should utter somewhat, for the drawing out a little more at length, this begun discourse. Patritio therefore turning himself towards Varano: You signor Hercules explaining the definition of Nobility said, that he shall be truly noble, who lawfully descendeth from famous men and women, or that for riches, or such things amongst men are most esteemed, so that, not only virtue, honour, magistracy, and glory, for those be the things most reputed of: but also riches, be the authors of nobility: a point (in my opinion) dissenting from all reason: For if riches produced Nobility, riches being the lawful begotten of avarice, who seethe not evidently, that Nobility should spring from a very corrupt generation. Show us therefore how it may be that men through riches, should become famous, and be foundation of Nobility. And Varano: As virtue without riches can very hardly appear: he which is poor, as the philosopher affirmeth, not being able to accomplish magnificent actions: so those riches which are not the companions of virtue, cannot be founders of nobility: wherefore the covetous man, usurer, and he which addicteth himself to sordid gain, although he should heap up together more riches than Croesus, yet could he not of himself, be beginning of Nobility: although the first descendant from this man, might well acquire this beginning, if with his received wealth, he should couple virtue. Notwithstanding all this signor Hercole (added Patritio) you make me suspect this your noble born babe to be infamous, I fearing, that he is rather an imaginative, than a true and lawful offspring, seeing you are of opinion, that virtue without the seed of riches, sufficeth not to better him: but if that were true, it were a wonder to point out one Noble, considering how hard a matter it is, that riches should accompany virtue: and therefore good Diogenes was wont to say, that Virtue could not inhabit in a City nor in a house where was riches: and the self same Philosopher demanded what sort of men were most noble, made answer, the contemners of riches, glory, and pleasures: and Plutarch said, that the appetite of nature was of itself incorrigible, but if abundance of riches thereunto were added, it became altogether wild and unbridled: and if we shall imitate the wiser Philosophers, but especially Seneca, we may rather term riches the mother of pride, insolence, ambition, intemperance, then of Nobility: And if we respect the founders of ancient Nobility, we shall find many more examples of men poor and virtuous, who despising riches, by virtue only made their progeny illustrious, then of the rich virtuous: For beginning from the ancient Romans, Fabritius although he were poor, rather desired triumphs, than the riches of the Samnites, having with marvelous greatness of mind, rejected both the gifts, and givers: Menenius Agrippa, who was of so great authority, that many times he took up the discords between the Senate and the people, lived so poorly, as after his death, if there had not been a common collection made amongst the people, there had not been sufficient left to bury him. Attylius Regulus, a man renowned for his virtues, was so poor, as that he being to maintain the war, it was necessary his wife and children should live at public charge: and for this occasion was a daughter of Cneius Scipio's married with a public dowry. But to make recital also of the Grecian Histories, photion Athenian, when he might have made himself rich with those gifts offered unto him by king Philip, would not accept of them: and being put in mind by the King's Ambassadors, that he should do well to accept of them for his children, who without riches, could hardly preserve their father's glory. If they prove like me (answered he) the self same little field will bring them up, which hath raised me to this dignity, and if they resemble me nothing at all, I desire not that their intemperance should be nourished and augmented at my charge and expense. Lysander Lacedaemonian, who made Athens Tributary to Sparta, was so poor, that after his death, his Daughter's Husband, not having received their dowries, would have refused it, but that by the Magistrates they were compelled to hold and keep them: Epaminondas, who deprived the Lacedæmonians of the principality of Graecia, and made his country free, which before, and after him, was always in servitude: of all the victories he obtained, never took any thing for himself, content only with Glory, and was so indigent, that not sufficient being found after his death for performance of his obsequies, he was buried at public charge: I could bring forth infinite other examples for demonstration, that riches hath no part of nobility: the which for to avoid prolixity, I pass over with silence: only I will allege, that the Philosopher in his Rhetoric, amongst noble families, numbereth the descendentes of Socrates; and Socrates as he was esteemed for a Virtuous man, so was he not rich, nor from a rich father extracted: we must necessarily therefore affirm, that these men, adorned only with virtue, were ignoble, in that they were not rich (which would be an exceeding paradox) or else that only virtue, and not riches is she, that maketh a family noble. The definition I have set down of Nobility (said Varano) as it is true, so will it resolve all difficulties, and not being sinisterly interpreted, will not be altogether discrepant from your opinion.  
These two conclusions therefore are inferred: the first is, that virtue is properly she, that bringeth forth Nobility, The second, that Nobility cannot be nourished, nor brought to her perfection, without riches. The first conclusion is manifest of itself, the second is proved by this reason: for as the practice of mechanical and vile trade, is proper to him ignoble, so belongeth it to him noble, to use freely liberal arts; and therefore the Philosopher affirmeth, that the life of mechanical artificers is base, degenerating from virtue, and unworthy a civil man: considering, that to acquire virtue, quiet, and leisure is requisite: where upon it may be noted against the Stoic, that Nobility taketh not his beginning, so much from abandoning of vice, as from giving over base practices, and mechanical arts, and applying one's self to those liberal. And because these cannot be freely exercised without riches, therefore are Riches necessary for the preservation of Nobility: in that one oppressed with poverty, cannot have a quiet peaceable life, he being enforced to gain his living by manual aite: And therefore the Philosopher in his politics, if I remember well, saith; Nobility consisteth of ancient richesses and virtue: minding to infer, that though Nobility hath virtue for foundation, yet can it not be nourished nor continued without riches; the which, the greater antiquity they be of in a family, the more special token give they of Nobility and virtue, seeing ancient riches can, not be preserved without ancient virtue: that Nobility is by riches preserved, and through want thereof lost, experience and reason manifesteth it: for principalities and riches once lost, we see most noble families come to contempt, and lose their Nobility, those Noble being constrained through want, to apply themselves to base courses, and mechanical arts: wherein, as the body is contaminate, so is Nobility stained. Let us then aver, conformable to your judgement, that the poor man through singular virtue, may be foundation of Nobility: but then we must add also, that it cannot be nourished and reduced to due & proportionable stature, nor in a family be preserved without riches: whereupon as Fabritius, Menenius, Agrippa, Attilius Regulus, Cneius Scipio, photion, Lysander, Epaminondas, and Aristides the just, being poor, were for their notable virtue, a sufficient beginning of Nobility: so by defect of wealth, it was quickly annihilate in their discendants. And if the offspring (said Patritio) were as virtuous as the first founder, might not nobility be nourished, and take propagation without riches? And Varano: Noble race would either be very rare, or none at all, if segnealate and heroical virtue, were as necessary for the nourishment, as generation of Nobility, this being a thing so admirable and rare to be found. Therefore I say, that as by excellent and singular virtue she is generate, so is she fostered and maintained by riches and indifferent virtue. Declare unto us I beseech you (replied Patritio) before we proceed any further, what is segnealate and excellent virtue, & what virtue indifferent: for I did not think that in virtue there could have been any defect, mediocrity, or excess, the Philosopher having told me, that there can never be too rertuous a man.  
I am sure, signor Patritio, answered Varano, you feign ignorance, to the end that others may the better understand, as he that no less desireth to assist others, than help himself; I therefore, to satisfy your good intention, will feign also to instruct you, to the end others may learn: and therefore I say, that if we consider virtue in herself, she being a mediocrity equally distant, betwixt two extremes, cannot participate of more or less: but if we respect the subject into which virtue is received, she shall not be in all points equal: For, as in men, complexions, exercises, and studies be divers: so will some particular virtue, in one, be more splendent than in another: as for example: in a man of war, he being always conversant about things terrible, the virtue of fortitude shall be more noted, than in a civil man, who apply himself to the government of the common wealth: For in him the virtue of justice will be more famous, as in the Philosopher the virtue of temperance. The excess then of virtue, according to the Philosopher, is after this manner expressed: the which excess is of such a nature, as it cannot pass into vice, but rather is properly that which maketh a man magnanimous; and it is called virtue Heroical, as that which participateth both of humanity and divinity: and this is either excellency in profession of arms, accompanied with moral virtues, or great wisdom, and civil understanding: insomuch as from these two virtues, cities receive chiefest good and benefit. But because these excellencies are not granted to every one, neyrher is it generally given to all men, to be apt to warfare, or inclined to the study of good letters, I will count him possessed with indifferent virtue, in whom shall appear gentle customs, that shall be continent, modest, not envious, no evil speaker, a keeper of promise, a friend to right and equity: faithful in preserving things committed unto him, as well money, as secrets, a lover of truth, that through depravation of mind consents to no brutish action, nor through temerity enacteth no undecent thing: and that above all the rest, shall be religious and liberal. And to conclude, an enemy to all vice, and a friend to virtue: when it is therefore said, that they also shall be noble, whose predecessors through riches have been renowned, indifferent virtue is not excluded: for then the proposition would be most false, but rather that virtue heroical, the which of itself without riches is honourable: whereas the Philosopher in his Rhetoric hath numbered the offpring of Socrates amongst those noble, supposing, which yet may be doubted, that Socrates, and those that tame of him were poor, we must observe, that he in his Rhetoric entreatiug of things, which in the eye of the people be apparent, he doth not always philosophically, but sometimes, after a centaine manner, speaketh and discourseth particularly, tying and accommodating himself, rather to vulgar opinion, than pune verity: and there is no doubt, but if thatq excused him not, he should many ways contradict himself: for there could not also be any antiquity of blood, nor of spring of Socrates in Aristotle's time. Seeing that, as Ammonius affirmeth in the life of Aristotle, he at 17. years of age, went to hear Socrates, and was his disciple for three years. Considering for my sake (said Patritio) you confess that virtue is the mother, I am content, in favour of you, that riches may be the tutoress of nobility: which ought to nourish and reduce her to perfection. Then signor Alfonso Turcho, desirous to hear further of the matter: Me thinks said he, signor Hercole, your opinion is very conformable to truth, which is, that Nobility taketh original, rather from giving over mechanical arts, and base practices, than from abandoning vice: the philosopher confirming the same, where he saith, that he which is employed in base practices, cannot exercise virtue: and there is no doubt, but all common wealths, as well ancient, as modern, distinguish by this Character, the noble from the vulgar sort: And the Philosopher would, not only, that the plebeian should be free from vice, but further alotteth unto him a certain portion of virtue, saying, in the mechanical man so much virtue sufficeth, as wherewith he may justly practise his trade and profession; but for all this, I am doubtful, for if Nobility should have her original from leaving trades mechanical, and not from abandoning of vice, this inconvenience would follow: For the professor of mechanical arts, being without vice, should be ignoble, and he practising liberal Arts, though vicious, must come to be noble, and so consequently, any wicked man, applying himself to liberal arts, might be author of Nobility.  
This your doubt ariseth (answered Varano) from not having well understood, all the circumstances, from which Nobility is derived, although I described them unto you: because it is necessary, that the first founder of Nobility, give not over, only arts mechanical, and apply himself to the study of arts liberal, but further, that he virtuously, and with decency practise them; which doing, he can never be vicious. You will then infer, added Turcho, that he who will be truly noble, or beginning of nobility, aught, not only to abandon mechanical professions, but also to fly vice. Even very so, said Varano. And what understand you, replied Turcho, by those words, to exercise liberal Arts virtuously? And Varano: These words declare, that it is proper to one noble, to practise liberal Arts without vice: because he is bound to use them, not for avarice, or ambition, as many do, but only for honesty. And what understand you by liberal arts, said Turcho? And Varano: By liberal arts, I generally intent all those exercises, aswell of the mind, as body, which are worthy of a virtuous and civil man, as are all the Sciences, as well divine, as human, and the arts which unto some Sciences are annexed and subalternate, but above all others, the Art of War, and study of the Laws: For the one preserveth, and the other governeth a Commonwealth: And therefore all those, who addict themselves to these exercises, not to reap thereof benefit and gain, but in favour of themselves, their friends, and of honesty, either they are the beginning of nobility to their discendants, or else not degenerating from their predecesslors, may be recounted amongst those noble. You impose too severe a law, added Count Scipio Socrate, upon Nobility, you holding opinion, that they noble, are enjoined to practise liberal arts, without hope of drawing from them any benefit: so that Doctorshippe, which by Emperors is so privileged, should very seldom be the beginning of nobility, we continually seeing, that the multitude of doctors, especially of Lawyers, is always ententive to gain. And Varano: He that hath a generous & noble mind, shall easily observe this law, but to the degenerate and base mind, it may well seem rigorous. Therefore I reply, that those doctors, who sell words all the day long for gain, yea & for lies also, cannot but acidenrally be authors of Nobility, notwithstanding they should acquire greater wealth, than Crassus; but their inheritors, by employing this obtained wealth, and exercising decently liberal arts, might well lay the foundation of Nobility to their progeny. And if a doctor, reading or instructing (said Socrate) should receive some public stipend, would it any thing prejudice him in Nobility? And Varano: Public stipend being in anumber of things honourable, & honour of an houest man desired, as an ensign of virtue, to receive it inward, especially through her beneficence, doth not only, not prejudice, but moreover exalteth to Nobility: By the same reason also, a stipend which the Prince bestoweth on those noble, to serve him upon occasion in the war, or in any other honourable action, doth not a whit blemish, but rather maketh nobility the more to shine and be resplendent, in that the stipend of a Prince, who representeth the Commonwealth, is a public stipend, & noteth virtue in him noble, & that he either hath, or is fit to perform some benefit to the prince or commonwealth. But Count Hercole Tassone, who sat by him said: I would willingly understand, if to practise merchandise were any obstacle of Nobility: Ferif that should be true, the Venetian Nobility, so highly esteemed of, would be nothing worth, in that there be seldom any of their nobles, which are not also merchants, they being of opinion, that Nobility can hardly be preserved without merchandise, being the mean to hold & augment wealth. And I have, and do know some princes, that are given to trade of merchandise, and yet amongst others noble, those princes are most noble: and Varano: Although the Philosopher affirmeth, that the life of merchants is base, and contrary to virtue, as also the Thebans made a law, that none might be capable of honours in the commonwealth, except they had given over trade, for the space of ten years before: notwithstanding, I make this distinction: For merchandise may be practised two manner of ways, the one, by causing to be brought out of far countries, those commodities which are not in their own, to their own gain, and for benefit also of the commonwealth, the other, by not respecting public benefit, but only to enrich himself, buyeth up the commodity of his own country, whereof there is abundance, expecting occasion to sell them again at a greater price, and this being grounded Upon avarice, and a sordid gain, as it is from virtue far remote, so doth not that other blemish at all Nobility, especially, if it be practised with Decorum. And how may it be practised with Decorum (added Tassone?) He noble in using trade, shall obserus Decorum (said Varano) if for all this he give not over liberal arts, but shall use the other by the hand of his agents, & not sell his commodity by retale, setting forth shops with it, but utter it in grosle, and for a reasonable price, having ever his eye no less to public benefit, then unto private gain: with this Decorum the Venetian Nobility practise it: For they noble, not forsaking profession and arts liberal, as also not neglecting affairs, and public magistracies, procure with their ships, commodities to be transported out of other countries, for which cause they maintain their factors, selling altogether in gross, helping by this means, not only their country, but also many other neighbour provinces, & therefore in this manner preserving and increasing wealth, they do no whit infringe their nobility. Those Signiors Undoubtedly are noble (added Tassone) for besides their being most opulent both in public & private, & lords of so miraculous & great a city, as is Venice, & most mighty also by land & sea, they may further be esteemed the only nobles of Italy, Nobility in their ancient families having never been defaced, the original whereof is reckoned from nine hundred years, by the Barbarous nations, the which by their Cities of Italy cannot be affirmed, wherein some of the nobles vaunt themselves to come out of Germany, others out of France, & many out of Spain. But to return to our purpose, seeing he noble may traffic, I would also understand, if without touch of nobility, he may heap up treasure or no: for of this I doubt, especially having read, that amongst the Romans it was highly commended, neither to diminish nor augment a patrimony, that generous people imagining, that it was a hard matter to accumulate gold & treasure without vice. To gather wealth (answered Varano) is in the number of those actions, which of themselves are termed neither good nor bad, but by the circumstances, mean, & end wherefore they are performed, they become either good or depraved; it shallbe lawful therefore for him noble to store up wealth, so often as in this he observe a mediocrity, & do it to good & honest end, & this mean may by him be kept, if considering himself, & his wealth, he live with that decorum, which for his nobility & faculty shall be convenient, endeavouring that every year of his revenues there may rather advance, than come short, to the end, that by sinister occasion of fortune, he fall not into some distress: for there is not a greater indignity, nor any thing that more preiudiceth nobility, then for one noble, through want, to go led, as we commouly say, by another man's hand, as on the contrary, there is not any point that giveth greater reputation, or that nearer appeareth to magnanimity, than not to be in want or necessity of any thing. The end shallbe honest, in gathering wealth for our children: which is also by the evangelical law permitted, as likewise to be mindful of our friends, & that we may honour, & succour our country in her necessities, a thing which the Venetian nobility is wont to perform, who bring into the common treasury, the particular treasures heaped up by industry, and frugality, offering it with their singular reputation to the service of their country: and therefore by fools, who respect no further than a certain vain exterior appearance, this their frugality is fond taxed, as those, who in apparel and diet, consume not their wealth: where upon they call the nobles of Venice miserable and covetous, although notwithstanding throughout their whole city, they may see manifest signs of their magnificence: but if we use by the house, to measure, not only the condition and state, but also the mind of the patron, that for his own use hath built it: what is he, who beholding the stately & magnificent palaces, consecrated to eternity, which the Venetian nobility, for themselves, and public ornament, questionless with heroical charge do build, and may not perceive in them a mind more than great, or will not term them (undoubtedly most worthy) by the titles of magnificent and excellent? and let not then scoff at that nobility, who with notable vanity, are to no other thing addicted, than the excess of pompous attire, & sumptuous fare; who being continually followed by Parasites, & sycophants, with shame, & loss to themselves, & their children, utter their wealth downward in the privies. The honest frugality and moderate living of the virtuous (said Tassone) is rather to be attributed to those excellent laws, & good customs, wherewith that most prudent commonwealth is governed, them to the virtue of particular men: for diet, by the laws is moderated, and sumtuous apparel, as well in women, as men forbidden: for the magistracy of Censors, which is a place of great dignity in the commonwealth, is principally intentive about this, severely chastising those, who contemning the laws, exceed the mean set down, in their apparel, diet, or other superfluities. This law (added Varano) is of so great importance, that by it principally, the commonwealth flourisheth, and is maintained: for richesse by this means, is not only preserved (the props of Nobility) but also pride is abated, all occasion of envy taken away, of hatred, disdain, and consequently of all seditions: In that those men, equal in Nobility, but in riches inferior to others, not being able to tolerate, the pomp and pride of them more opulent, in apparel, & other exterior appearances, excelled by these discontented with their own estate, they would easily labour after innovation of state in the commonwealth: and there is no doubt, but if the prince with laws bridle not the subjects folly, that men in cities shall live scarce happily, seeing men by nature, are so vain and ambitious, as the vulgar sort, by apparel strive to seem noble; as they noble, also contend to appear like princes: & setting their whole desire upon no other than an exterior appearance, they respect not to be seen beggars in their houses, so that in the market place they may appear rich. Seeing you have here made it known (said count Caesar Tassone) in what manner it is lawful for one noble to traffic and enrich himself: displease it not you also to declare, whether a Prince, without blemish to his Maresty, may heap up treasure: by one reason it seemeth he may not, for as the Philosopher affirmeth, accumulating of treasure is proper to a Tyrant: honour and glory belonging to a right & good Prince; and considering, that a Prince may at his pleasure, dispose of his subjects and wealth, he maketh a far better reckoning, by laying up his treasure in the purses of his subjects, and friends, than ever gleaning from them, to lock it up close in his own treasury: in that by there hiding them, he alienateth from himself his subjects minds, making himself only Lord over gold: but contrary wise, laying them up in their purses, he becometh tyrant both of their gold, and minds: than which mind, there is nothing more difficult to be governed, as that, which not by force, or violence, but only with beneficence may be acquired: but further, what need a prince hoard up treasure, when by the same means he can never become poor, how royal and magnificence soever he be, in that at his pleasure he might furnish himself with his subjects wealth. It is not only lawful (answered Varano) but also is necessary that a Prince should gather riches, seeing he representeth the common wealth; considering that the treasure of the prince is public treasure, wherewith he defendeth the City in time of war, & in time of peace supplieth the people's wants, & which most importeth, by them the greatness & reputation of principality is maintained, not being any thing that maketh a Prince more highly esteemed, then to be rich of treasure, money being as it were the nerves and sinews of war: wherefore above all other matters, a Prince ought to be respective of falling into want of treasure: for he no sooner discovereth himself needy, but, though a very great prince, he suddenly groweth into contempt, and easily becometh a prey to his enemies. A good Prince therefore, aught in gathering of wealth, to have an eye always to honesty, contending to increase his treasure, rather by avoiding superfluous & excessive expenses, then by imposing new and unwonted exactions, to the end he show not a desire to enlarge his own royalty, by diminution of his subjects store, for this should be no other, than of a good Prince, to become a tyrant: the true Prince no otherwise differing from the tyrant (as the Philosopher teacheth) but that the prince rather seeketh to enrich his subjects, than himself, & a tyrant, as he that considereth not that a prince is ordained for his subjects good, & not the subjects in favour of the prince, not a whit respecting the good of his people, performeth all things for profit, & to please himself: and therefore the object of a true prince is honessie, and of a tyrant, his own will and contentment. He than that shall store up treasure in such sort as is convenient for a true Prince, preserveth his reputation in peace, and maketh himself strong for war, and by nor oppressing the minds of his subjects, he shall ever be a true and lawful potentate. The answer of Varano was by the whole assembly commended, as if in that, secretly were expressed the wisdom or virtue of their Prince. And count Cesar replying no further, signor Guilio Cesar Brancaccio: I well remember, said he, signor Torquato Tasso in one of his dialogues, which he entitled Forno, entreating of nobility, holdeth this conclusion, that a man of valour, though he be not honest, is properly he, that gineth beginning to nobiltie, by acquiring power & riches, leaving them to his progeny: which conclusion, he verifieth by the example of Cesar, who though he was not an honest man, yet because he was most vaiorous, left his posterity great, and mighty: From this conclusion, there arise in me two doubts, the one is, whether from one not good, nobility may take original, the other is, whether vice and valour may stand together: upon these difficulties, signor Hercules, I expect your opinion. And Hercules: Before we proceed any further, it will be good, that the first discoursing search out the true signification, and from whence these terms, a man of valour, be derived, the which, neither with the Latins, nor Grecians I never find expressed, and I do not believe that they can be set down in such manner, and with that grace as they sound in our language: for my part, I should think that this word valour, were derived from the vulgar word Valere, which we commonly use in those things that are sold for price: and that speaking properly, it imports as much to say, as this thing is of great value, as to say, it valueth, or is worth so much: or the price of it is so tated: and further, I am of opinion that those things are absolurely of value, which in their kind (be they artifinall, or natural) are good, and apt to that end, whereunto art or nature directeth, & not being such, although they may welserue to some such use, yet may they not absolutely be termed of value; which being true (as it is) so cannot he be absolutely a man of valour, who is not honest, considering he is not apt to that end, whereunto vature and the author of her, hath directed him, which is felicity: & I say absolutely of valour; because it is not to be otherwise thought, but that he being expert in some art, or science, may be of indifferent estimation. This is conformable to the Philosopher, where entreating of wisdom, and wise men, he saith, that this name properly agreeth with those, that of all human actions perform ever the best: but for all this, those also, who in some one Art are excellent, do usurp this term: whereupon we use to say, that Praxiles and Phydias were expert and excellent gravers. Now to our purpose: If Tasso understand, that a man not good, may be called absolutely of valour, in my judgement, he is deceived: but if he intendeth, that valorous may be applied, after the same manner, as Phydias was said to be wise and excellent, which was only in the art of Graving, he spoke well: In like manner, he is deceived if he believe that the man valorous, accompanied with vices, may of himself be founder of Nobility, and I say of himself, in that by accident he is not forbidden, such an one leaving riches & power to his posterity, by mean of which, they may with honour exercise virtue, and liberal Arts. Your opinion, said Brancaccio, is conformable to my humour, and grounded upon prevalent reasons: For if by nobility we suppose an inclination unto virtue, in him noble, it being likely, that from the better, better still springs; if he first had been wicked, both supposition and proposition would be false: For from one not good, another good should take his original; but according to my observation, this word valour, seemeth properly to be usurped in those uses appertaining to war; so that when we say, he is valorous, or of valour, presently we understand it in Arms. Arte Military, answered Varano, as it hath ever been, of all others the most noble and honourable, so those who make profession of bearing arms, notwithstanding for the most part, they be menquellers, and most wicked, usurp, not only the name and title of valorous, but also of honest men: as though it were all one, to be valiant with arms in hand, and be an honest man: but as it is false, that one wicked by being valorous may be good, so is it as false, that he may be termed a man of valour. signor Guilio Caesare confirmed this saying, & the Count Scandiano, doubted after this manner: You signor Hercules, amongst the principal properties of Nobility, have placed, not only renown of ancestors, but also of Country: as though the property of ancient & famous blood, were not sufficient, notwithstanding one were borne in a small village, to illustrate and make noble a progeny: but if we turn over ancient and modern Records, we shall find most noble and famous families, to have taken their original, in base and humble place: and to discourse somewhat further, the same heaven covereth all things, and heateth them; the self sun illuminateth; and to man of all other creatures most excellent, there is not limited one earthly habitation only as to the other, but through divine favour the whole world, he being in his life time an inhabiter of the whole earth; and being worthy, after death to be a citizen of heaven: wherefore good Diogenes demanded of what country he was, a citizen of the world, answered he: minding to infer, that not a man's country, but virtue administereth honour and glory, and that a man ought to boast, not of his country, but only of virtue: the which of itself is sufficient, to illustrate the obscurest country whatsoever, as Anacharsis the Scythian Philosopher expresseth very well, who to a foolish Athenian, that objected unto him the baseness of his country, answered: My base country I by virtue ennoble, and thou thy country noble, obscurest by vice: And we read, that the virtue of Homer, moved emulation amongst seven of the principal cities of Graecia, each of them vaunting, that he was borne their original citizen, doing this for no other cause, but to make themselves famous, with the renown of this man's virtue: by which it is manifest, that the virtuous man giveth, and receiveth not honour from his country: As I believe therefore the definition of nobility would be much more perfect, if it wanted this clause: notwithstanding I expect that you lay open my error.  
And Varano: As Nature and GOD have made man Lord of the earth, and citizen of the world, so hath he not in the globe of the whole earth, one place more than another, appropriate for his birth, and habitation; in that as experience teacheth, he might live, and inhabit in all places: notwithstanding by fortune he hath his birth more in one, then in another, and the place where he is borne and nourished, we call his country, and native soil: A man therefore by nature is a citizen of the world, and by fortune of the land and province where he was borne: neither can it be denied also that cities and places of a land, are greatly different, as also I will not here move consideration, of diversity of climates, which (as appeareth also in unreasonable creatures) ordinarily make wonderful difference, in the stature and complexion of the body, & affections of mind, as the Philosopher affirmeth, speaking of the nature of the people of Asia, and Greece: but diversity of laws, manners, and customs, are such, as what in one city seemeth unjust, and impious, in another is admitted, as honest, and just: which being true, we must of necessity confess, that one borne, and nourished in a city built and augmented by men heroical, grounded by excellent laws, where prudence, sapience, and all other liberal arts, are practised, is reputed much more virtuous, than another borne and brought up in a country, where barbarous laws, uncivil customs, and no other arts be professed and practised, but those mechanical, and base: with which reason moved, the Philosopher said, that Barbarians never were, nor could be called, perfectly noble. Country therefore importeth so greatly, as without the glory of it, no perfect nobility can be framed; I say perfect, because he may also be called noble, who is descended of ancient and virtuous parentage, although in mean and humble place. You have so well resolved my doubt (said Scandiano) as that I cannot but reply, and confess that honour of country, is necessary to perfect nobility. signor Varano, must needs satisfy me also (said Guirino) for it will not sink into my head, that Nobility is an extern all good, or of fortune, especially he having affirmed, that nobility is ever joined with virtue; the which virtue, as it is neither of Fortune, nor by Fortune, the Philosopher so teaching, so can it not be an eternal good: For virtue being an habit, and perfection of our mind, it cannot but be numbered amongst those goods, which in us be intrinsicate: lose therefore my doubt, and this your manifest contradiction. And Varano: signor Guirino propoundeth an excellent problem, whether nobility be in the number of those goods internal, or that it be external, and of Fortune: and to show the dexterity of his singular wit, as though he conceived not the truth, he concludeth by our own position, that nobility is not a good external, nor of Fortune, we having affirmed that in it virtue, as also other points precious and honourable were contained. To which we easily make answer, if we shall but consider what before I have said, for it is true, that nobility may be placed amongst those goods of Fortune, as that which happeneth beyond the intention of Nature, and is by the Philosopher numbered among those goods which are not in ourselves: for although it have original from virtue, yet dependeth it not of the only virtue of him that possesseth it, but rather of the virtue of his many predecessors, which is truly that, that produceth glory in him noble, being termed Nobility. Whereupon as the virtue of the most guttering sunbeams, is of force to make things obscure visible, so the virtue of many discendants of a most bright beam, may illustrate an obscure lineage, how base or vile soever; & as the sunbeams are not in the thing illumined, as in proper object, so the glory of predecessors is not in him noble, as in his particular subject, but he, together with others of the same blood, dof enjoy the resplendent brightness of their predecessors. Is Nobility (replied Guirino) be a virtue of stock or kind, a the Philosopher saith, & dependeth on antiquity of blood, we receiving blood from the bodies of our predecessors, I cannot see how it should rather be a gift of Nature, than Fortune, being to be recounted rather among those goods within ourselves, then amongst other external. And Varano: A man noble is begotten, by Nature, seed, & Fortune: for Fortune is no other, but a concourse of divers causes, whereof the most near, is a cause undetermined: Man, as man, is derived from nature and seed: but in respect of nobility, from Fortune for it is a thing contingent, and no ways known unto Nature, that a man should be borne, whose predecessors have been renowned and glorious.  
Tell me in earnest (added Guirino) is it not the intention of nature to make man, as all other things, in such perfection, as that he may easily attain his proper end. This proposition (said Varano) is necessary and always true, that nature guideth by infallible providence, maketh ever the best of all things, if she be not hindered. And Guirino: If therefore in him noble, there is greater perfection then in all other conditions, and that Nature always intendeth that perfect, me thinks, it necessarily followeth, that he should be borne Noble, not by Fortune, but by intention of Nature, and consequently, that Nobility is the gist of Narure, and not of Fortune.  
You may perceive signor Guirino (said Varano) that this your conclusion is not necessary: for all propositions of a syllogism, are not ever true and necessary: for though in him Noble, greater perfection is supposed then in others, yet many times the contrary falleth out, as every day experience plainly teacheth, and therefore I deservedly found fau●t with Mutius his definition, that is, that Nobility is not the perfection of every thing in his kind, but rather, an inward supposition of virtue, as hath been said, which dependeth on the glory and fame of his predecessors.  
Guirino replied no further: And Count Hanib all Turcho: You, signor Hercole, if I carry well in mind, said: that he cannot be noble, who is not borne legitimate, if that were true, in would follow, that the son of a noble father & mother, might be ignoble, this seeming inconvenient: for if it be true, that Nobility, as the Philosopher affirmeth, is a virtue of kind, it hath original from seed, and not from marriage: for marriage in respect of nature, is a thing accidental, neither can it augment or diminish perfection in seed; and to stand upon natural example, as to generate a courageous horse, it sufficeth to put together a noble Stallion, and a goodly Mare: so to make one noble, without other marriage, the union of a noble man, and woman, shall be sufficient. And Varano: Although matrimony is not essential, having respect to generation, and that the union of male and female sufficeth, yet is it necessary, for the framing of one perfectly noble: considering that one perfectly noble is he, that hath had all his predecessors renowned, and famous, as also with vice immaculate: In that therefore it cannot be denied, but the bastard hath had his father and mother, contaminate, with the vice of intemperance, as those who came together contrary to honesty, and repugnant to that, the laws both divine, and human command, although many of his predecessors were noble, yet must he needs confess, that himself is not perfectly noble: but that he wanteth an ounce of arriving to perfect nobility: and I say perfect nobility, because it is not denied, but that bastards also may have some part in nobility, and in virtue be like to their grandfathers, and great grandfathers.  
And if bastards were legitimate (added Count Hannibal) should they not supply the ounce they want, and become perfectly noble? Wise Lawgivers (said Varano) to avoid the vice of intemperance, having deprived bastards, as well from succession of their father's goods, as of any other good of fortune, being those, who contrary to the disposition of the laws and commandments of God, were begotten, it was provided to mitigate severity of law, that by chief Princes, who be the laws superiors, they might by privilege be admitted to succession. So that legitimation may make them capable of riches, but not of perfect nobility I am satisfied, said Count Hannibal: And Count Hercules Bevelacqua: I have seen, said he, while I was in the French Court, privileges of nobility given by that king, to persons ignoble, yet deserving well of the crown of France; as also, other men most noble, to be deptived of nobility, for their contrary demerits, how which should be done, I cannot see, if nobility were restrained to those families, who pretend themselves descended of ancient blood: declare unto us therefore, if Princes may give, or take away from another nobility. And Varano: It is a conclusion approved by Doctors of the law, that Princes by their authority, may not only give nobility by writing, and privileges, but may also secretly give unto another those degrees, which appertain to men noble, by investing him with some noble infeofment, as also that it is in their power, to deprive nobles of their degrees of nobility. And Bartolo, a principal doctor, writeth: that if a man should live a thousand years replenished with chief virtue, yet could he never be noble, while by the Prince, some dignity or nobility, were bestowed on him, by which he might be distinguished, from the common people: Notwithstanding, I am of opinion, that this Doctor, together with others, have greatly etred: & in no other respect, but that speaking and discussing of nobility, they have never defined it, but confounded it with titles, magistracies, dignities, and other preemenencies; all which be parts of honour, and rewards of those actions, which depend on the virtue, of one alone: And I cannot but wonder at Mutius, a man certainly both learned, and judicial: who, after having confounded divers kinds of nobility, moveth this question, who is more noble, he that is descended of ancieut blood, or another ennobled, by his Prince? and he answereth it by these formal words: If the Prince give nobility to another for true testimonial of virtue, he shall be most noble: but if it be placed through humour, or appetite, he borne of ancient blood, shall be more honourable: we must therefore affirm according to Mutius, that to be noble and worthy of honour, is the self-same, being most false: for virtuous actions, and not nobility, is worthy of honour: and if nobility be honoured, it is not in respect of itself, but as it is presumed, that she is with virtue conjoined: But if to be noble, is a thing divers from being worthy of honour, who seethe not, that Mutius in his demand, hath begun (as in proverb we say) a gallon pot, and turning the wheel, like an unskilful potter, hath finished a cruse: But leaving Mutius, with all the other Doctors of the law, in their confused Chaos, I affirm that a Prince, how great soever, cannot give nor take away nobility, if it be such as either we have, or aught to be defined.  
A Prince may well give titles, magistracy, enfeofments, place, dignity, and other such like most special honours, but he can never effect, that one borne of the vulgar sort, should be descended from illustrious family, nor that he noble, by the renown of his predecessors, should be borne of base and ignoble parents, although he dishonoured him never so much. In your foundations (added Count Hercole) you discuss, as though yours were the true definition of Nobility, which neither Mutius, nor the other doctors by you named, would ever grant you, for they understand this term nobility, much more amply, then doth that Greek word Euguenia sound: If they should not believe me (said Varano) yet would they give credit to authority of their Emperors, seeing Frederick the second, who beside his dignity had the name to be greatly learned, demanded what nobility was: made answer, ancient riches, and excellent customs: as also Sigismond the most wise Emperor, whom a man of the vulgar sort, by him very well esteemed, entreating that he would create him noble, made this answer, I may make you rich, and grant you all manner of immunity, but noble I can no ways precure you to be. Leaving authority, and coming to reason, either nobility is in the world from other things distant, or else with others the self same, as with virtue, riches, praise, honour, and with other goods internal, or external. If it be the self-same with others, then is the distinct discussion thereof superfluous: If it be from them separate and apart, as particular treaty is necessrrie, so is it as behoveful to find out desinitions, and essentially differences, by which the nature there of may be known, to be from other things different.  
The definition being given, conformable to the doctrine of the Philosopher, is such, as that it showeth this excellence which we term Nobility, to be of different nature from all other goods and properties, therefore it is sufficient and good. But the definition of Mutius and other Doctors, can neither be blamed, nor commended, they never having defined, or given any sign thereof, whereby we might distinguish it from virtue, praise, and honour, but have so obscured it, with the colours of other things, as that there is no sight so quick, which is able to comprehend it. Me thinks (said Count Hercole) that from Mutius, which I have also seen, the definition of Nobility may very well be drawn: for he affirming that Noble signifieth one worthy to be known, it may be said, that Nobility is a good, which maketh another man worthy to be known.  
See you not (answered Varano) that by this definition, virtue, riches, hnor, and other goods, which make another man worthy to be known, are not a whit distinguished from Nobility, which the Philosopher showeth, saying, That there be three sorts of Citizens in a Commonwealth, worthy to be known, those be the rich, noble, & virtuous, and there is no doubt, but one may be rich, popular, and virtuous, and yet not well borne: and for all this, he shall be worthy to be known. But to return to our purpose, they greatly abuse themselves, who basely borne, grow proud of received Nobility, as though the authority of the prince had made them regenerate & borne anew. But what say you of the Nobility, added count Hercole, which the Signiory of Venice usually gives to them, that have performed any singular benefit to their commonwealth? is not that true Nobility? as they did to Giacomo Cavallo, of Verona, who was created a noble man of Venice, with all his posterity, for the egregious virtue, and valorous attempts, that he performed, in that most dangerous war they had with the Genoese at Chioggia, and together with him for the self same occasion, they made thirty pleibean families of the City of Venice noble: ennobling those that then lived, as all their descendants perpetually: and they being the first, were gentlemen, without attending any third or fourth generation. If Giacomo Cavallo were in his own City noble (said Varano) he acquired not nobility in the Venetian Commonwealth, but by being made a member of that commonwealth unto which he was vassal, he attained some title and pre-eminence of great honour and benefit, in that he like other Gentlemen, might stand for all honours, magistracies, and dignity. And by the reasons above, by us alleged, those first who of common people were made noble, were truly honoured: but yet not ennobled with true and perfect nobility: whereupon they were rather a beginning of Nobility to their posterity, then truly noble: and to conclude, Princes may by their authority, give beginning of Nobility to a family, as likewise of disgrace and ignobility, and especially, when through desert of virtue they honour good men, and for vice, reproach those wicked. Your conclusion (said count Hercules) is so conformable to truth, as I am out of all doubt. I have good cause to doubt also (said Count Guido Calcag.) neither will it ever sink into my head, that nobility (as Varano hath set down) is in the kind of good things, being rather to be numbered amongst those evil, which hinder felicity: in that nobility in him noble, doth no less poison and corrupt his sweetest contentments, than an other may be, who is rejected. Behold a fine paradox (said Varano.) That is a padox (replied Calcgnini) which is not with sound reason accompanied: for how can that be a good, which depriveth of liberty, and bindeth with hard knots of servitude? and who seethe not that nobility is such, seeing he noble, can neither do nor say any thing without consent of nobility? he being continually enjoined, to his great discontentment, to speak, walk, stand still, be appareled, use wealth, and to perform all his operations not as he would, but in such sort as his nobility urgeth him, with having an eye ever to decorum, and not to obscure the glory of his predecessors: the which cannot by ignobility be affirmed, in that full of most pleasant liberty, it giveth licence to the ignoble to live not only after his own mind, but liscentiously to cease upon all those contentments, which beast please him, without having respect, to time, place, or the dignity of his predecessors. To this truth, these illustrious Princes, most noble Ladies, and honourable Knights, will readily give testimony, who never more sweetly taste their delights, than when despoiling themselves of that prosopopeia which this beast of nobility carrieth about with her, they are appareled with that liberty, which to pleasing and jocund ignobility is ever annexed: From hence it proceedeth, that to us gentlemen in Carnevale time, masking is so acceptable, in that at our own pleasure, we may transform ourselves, sometimes into the habit of a porter, other while, of a country man, and sometimes into any other person more base and vile, taking incredible pleasure, in imitating their speech and gate, and practising their mechanical and licentious customs, sometimes freeing ourselves from the insolency of servants and boys, which continually run gaping at our tails, we prove how sweet it is to go alone, now running, then leaping, sometimes skipping, by and by laughing: as also that we may enter into any place, without being noted, & execute any knaveries. Surely if we well consider, we shall find, that this glory which is termed nobility, is no other but a light, which maketh the defects of men noble to every man's eye apparent. How many may we say, have been, & are the men of base condition, who have run a life no less brutish and dissolute, then Sardanapalus Lydian, Philopater Acgiptian, Heliogabalus and Comodus roman Emperors, and yet having been of base quality, by the eye of the world, they have not been discovered: whereas on the contrary, of the intemperate, and vicious life of those in noble estate, books and whole volumes be replenished. But what say you of nobility, she being found (as many times it happeneth) coupled with poverty? what burden is more intolerable?  
The poor gentleman, not content with that which is necessary for sustentation of human life, superfluous things wanting, where with nobility is puffed up in pride, he yerneth inwardly, and grieving a thousand times a day, at his noble birth (as he that is ashamed, to apply himself to base course of life) languisheth in great misery: whereas contrariwise the poor mechanical man, accustomed to labour, & an homely life, no whit careful for things superfluous, by art or mechanical industry, preparing those only, which are sufficient for human living, leadeth a pleasant and contented life: many other reasons might be produced, to show, that nobility, is rather in the kind of things wicked, then good, which not to appear a Rhethoritian, I will pass over: being well assured, that there is not any of these most noble gentlemen, which to themselves are not privy, of the truth of this my conclusion, and that repent not themselves a thousand times the day, to have been noble borne. It befitteth not (signior Count) answered Varano, your noble mind, nor these most gentle creatures, which here give care round about us, to enter into so sinister opinion: For Nobility is not only, not to be recounted amongst things wicked, but is a most precious good, by all qualities and conditions of men, honoured and esteemed, & so far off is it from depriving of liberty, that rather it reacheth a helping hand to deliver from servitude, there being no greater servitude than vice, as before I have said, and the Divines affirm, Nobility as a most clear seeming glass reflecting continually on the eyes of him noble, the glory of his ancestors valour inviteth to illustrate his mind with virtue, to resemble them, as also to shun vice. Whereupon Q. Fabius Maximus and Scipio were wont to say, that beholding the Images of their predecessors, they found their mind wonderfully inflamed unto virtue. I confess signor Conte, that Nobility is a clear lamp, which causeth wicked actions, no less than good to appear, and in this respect, is principally worthy to be placed in the kind of things good, for she spurreth and inflameth unto virtue, as well with fear of infamy, as with hope of commendation, wherefore this glory of Nobility not discovering itself, in the operations of them ignoble, they want this prick of fear and reproach, neither think they themselves bound to proceed further than that their predecessors have performed: and to men noble it seemeth great opproby, not to attain at least to the bounds, set down unto them by their first founders, and therefore in a manner it always falleth out, that in arms, and virtuous actions, the most singular and excellent men, be of nobility: For Nature hath inserted a certain secret virtue, in the seed of all things, which giveth them force and property, to be like the beginning, from whence they are derived: The which is manifested, by that we every day see in men, who are borne of shape and proportion, not only like to their fathers, but also resembling many times, their grandfathers and great grandfathers.  
The like is perceived also in the race of horses, bullocks, and other creatures, as further even in trees, that the boughs and branches do always in a manuer resemble the stock and trunk of the tree: And if at any time they degenerate, it proceedeth from the Husbandman's negligence. The like whereof happeneth to men, who being borne, if with good education they be manured, are always in virtue like those from whom they do proceed, and oftentimes better too. But if they want good pruners, and those that of them should have a care, they become wild and savage, never bringing forth good fruit: I grant also, that nobility in the end sinketh under that ponderous weight of poverty; notwithstanding, if he noble, together with riches, hath not wholly lost his generosity of mind, there can not want means, and honourable courses for his raising up, three of which, in my opinion, are of great moment; one is, by consecrating himself to God, and even as he by fortune is abandoned, so with heroical virtue, to show himself a contemner of the world and fortune: another is, by dedicating himself to the honourable service of princes: the third is, by practising the most noble profession Military. And there is no doubt, but that he noble, hath ever a special advantage over him ignoble, although in virtue they be equal. For, if there should be two men, who had not by good or bad actions, given any former trial of themselves, presently as it is known that the one is nobly borne, and the other not, with every one he ignoble shall be less esteemed, than the other, noble; and it is necessary, that one ignoble, by many endeavours, and in long time, imprint in the mind of men, a good opinion of himself, which the other in a moment, and only by being a Gentleman, hath acquired. All the standers by, confirmed this opinion of signor Hercole. And Count Palla Strozzi, seeing that Calcagnino replied no further, I would willingly understand, said he, from whence this word Gentleman hath had his original; as also if it be alone, to be noble, and to be a genileman: in that by these last words you uttered, wherein you confound these terms, it seemeth they are the self same things. Notwithstanding I see many, who though of mean quality, yet being but well appareled, they profess gentility; and ever they confirm their speeches, by swearing by the faith of a Gentleman, this making me doubtful, and sometimes absolutely to believe, that to call a Gentleman doth not properly signify noble, but rather, and honest man, and of gentle customs. And Varavo: Touching your first demand, I am of opinion, that this word Gentle was derived from the Latin, as also the greater part of those terms, which in our vulgar tongue we commonly use: For gentle, among the Latins, signifieth as much as, of the self-same family; and in like manner, they were called gentle, who had the self-same name, as we read in Cicero, who speaking of Tullius Hostilius, calleth him gentle, and writeth in his Topickes, that they be gentle, who amongst themselves are of one name, and have their original from free men, whose predecessors have never endured servitude. Whereupon we may gather, that this word gentle, agreeth with no other, but with persons of noble families: And therefore I judge, that this word, which in old time signified thus much, that this man was noble, together with him of such a family, and these men were noble with those of another family, enlarging now somewhat his signification, generally noteth unto us, that one noble is somewhat more, and as amongst them they were called gentle, who descended of noble family, so now those noble are called Gentlemen: so that we may conclude, the name of gentleman to be proper to him noble, and that to one ignoble it can no ways be applied. To the second demand, notwithstanding, Dant, Petrarch, and Boccace, have indifferently used these two terms, Noble and Gentle: yet do I make some difference betwixt them, and hold opinion, that the name of gentleman hath a far more restrained signification than this word, noble, and that a gentleman is he, who by the Philosopher is called Geneos, as much as to say, governors, in whom appears, not only the virtue of kind, but also that of his proper self: for though as I said, the name gentle is proper to him noble, yet without virtue, he shall ever be an unworthy possessor thereof: and therefore I thus conclude, that the man noble without virtue, and he virtuous without nobility, can never properly be termed a gentleman. Then, as your conclusion standeth with reason (said Strozza) so do I conjecture, that the number of true Gentlemen is very small, whereas on the contrary the multitude of them is infinite, who usurp this title: (being not only men noble vicious, and the ignoble virtuous, but also, whosoever by mean of wealth can live idly, although he be most ignoble and vicious, professeth himself a gentleman, so that if any man should object unto him, Thou art not a Gentleman, presently, as if he had received some notable injury, he would make answer with the lie: neither would he refuse combat upon this quarrel, as being persuaded, that he fought in a just cause. Your opinion, said Varano, is conformable to that the Philosopher sayeth, which is, that all men, in words, usurp virtue, and nobility, but of such as be truly noble and good, there is not twenty, in any one place, to be found. This demand of Count Palla, pleased all the knights and gentlemen very well: and the answer, thereunto, of Varano, was highly commended. When Cavalier Gualing: You hitherto signor Hercules, have so plentifully and particularly discoursed of nobility, as from this day forward we may think that there remaineth not any thing further, which upon this argument can be produced: yet for all this shall I not be fully satisfied, if you set not down, some distinct insormation of the degrees of Nobility: for that is no true nor sufficient cause, of one's being more noble than another, in that the antiquity and number of his predecessors is the greater, as in the beginning it appeareth you would have inferred: for being so, it would follow, that a private gentleman, whose blood were more ancient, than that of a King, or Duke, should then either king or duke be more noble: the which as an inconvenience to some, would never be yielded you. I desire you therefore touching this point to run over the degrees of nobility Varano made answer, It appeareth to be a subject proper unto the Civilians, for a part of justice, being conversant in in distributing punishments, rewards, and honours, it is requisite that the Civilians understand distinctly, and discuss of degrees of nobility, to the end that with geometrical and equal proportion, they may confer their dignities, titles, and pre-eminences, whereof Nobility seemeth principally worthy. Notwithstanding, to give you satisfaction, building upon my foundations: I divide nobility into five degrees or orders. The first ascending, is them noble, who having taken original of riches & indifferent virtue, never increased nor diminished, are called private Gentlemen. The second is, of those who are honoured further with noble enfeofments, as also with jurisdiction and title of Counts. The third have equal jurisdiction, with title somewhat more eminent, and are called Marquesses. The fourth is the dignity of Dukes: the fift and highest is that of Kings. These degrees, have amongst themselves like proportion of nobility, as in them of virtue there is supposed. Seeing honours & prerogatives, are imparted to nobility correspondent to the virtue, which in their kind is presumed to be: the first degree therefore grounded on indifferent virtue, is iuferior to all the rest: and the last, wherein virtue heroical is supposed, being that of kings (called for the same reason by Homer, shepherds of people) is most superior: the other three be part inferior, part superior: seeing the second more noble than the first, must give place to the third, fourth, and fift: the third superior to the first and second, shall give pre-eminence to the fourth and fift, the fourth, before the other three inferiors, shall yeede pre-eminence to the fift.  
If I conceive you rightly (added Gualinguo) you would say that private Gentlemen must give place to Countess, Counts to Marquesses, Marquesses to Dukes, Dukes to Kings, and this standeth with reason. Although in Germany it may be through abuse, Countess go before Marquesses: as also in the kingdom of Naples, Princes before dukes. To this title of Prince (said Varano) I have ascribed no particular degree of nobility, considering it is an attribution to all great Lords, & that distinguisheth not one potentate from another, but the prince from his subjects: & if it be particularly ascribed, it agreeth as seems, to the eldest sons of kings and Dukes: I believe also (said Gualinguo) that not without some special reason, you have omitted the principallest degree of Nobility, whereunto all those noble, and most noble, do willingly give place, and that is the degrees of the Emperor and Pope. The Emperor as Emperor, and the high priest as Pope, cannot concur (answered Varano) with the definition of nobility, nor make any order of nobility: and I say, as Emperor, or Pope: For there is no impediment, but that one chosen Emperor, or Pope, may come of royal and most noble stock, which may manifestly appear unto you, seeing a man brings nobility from his mother's womb, but so can he not bring with him, either the Empire, or Popedom, each of these degrees being disposed by election and not by succession: but a man may be borne, a Marquis, a Duke, or a King, speaking of such principalities and kingdoms as come by succession. And though Emperors go before Kings, and the Pope not only before Kings, but also, before the Emperor himself: of this, nobility is not the cause, but their dignity, the which noteth in those subjects so great excellency of virtue as is worthy of all supereminency. How can it be, replied Gualinguo, but if the Emperor and Pope, have prerogative to distribute the greatest titles of nobility, considering they may make, Counties, Marquesses, Dukes and Kings, that they should not be noble, yea and most noble themselves? And Varano: I proved unto you by lively reasons, that no Prince, how mighty soever, can give nobility, although he may adorn, and amplify it, with titles, enfeosments, and honours, which be the rewards, not so much of nobility, as virtue: but if I should grant you, that the Emperor or Pope, might make an other man noble, yet could you not conclude for this, that they were to be recounted in the number of those noble: for the Sun also is of power to produce heat in these inferior bodies, yet the Sun (if we will give credit to the Philosopher) is not hot himself. Very well (said Gual.) I now understand you, your meaning is, that the Emperor and be noble virtually, but not formally (to use these scholastical terms) which hath no other signification, but that they in one sort more excellent the those noble themselves, possess nobility, as they that have the authority to create & augment Nobility: and for this I rest satisfied, although I desire yet to understand somewhat further, whether in every one of these orders of nobility, there be degrees of more and less, or if all those that are of the self same degree and order, be equally noble: so that amongst them no precedence occurreth. In that those noble of the self-same order, (answered Varano) when they meet together, cannot set all upon one seat, nor be comprehended in one place & circuit, being necessary, that one must needs sit on the right hand, another on the left, one above, and another underneath: so is it requisite for the giving of due place to every one, that some circumstances of better and worse, be considered, which circumstance and difference for all this, shall not be specifical, nor change the nature or substance of the thing, but rather be universal and general, to all the orders of Nobility: And surely it is very convenient, that amongst private gentlemen, there be no account at all made of this difference, or precedence: for besides the decency for young men to give place to the elders, it is further liberal education, and noble courtesy, for one Gentleman to honour another, labouring ever to assign him the superior place, but amongst great princes, there is special returning made of it, and often times question is moved, touching pre-eminence. And what is the difference? (said Gualinguo.)  
In my judgement (answered Varano) the differences are of two sorts, which in all orders of Nobility, be worthy to be equally counterpeased, and whereunto in all reason, pre-eminence is to be given: one is, antiquity of blood, that is, the number of worthy predecessors, the other is, that Nobility which is termed the four discentes, that is, of those who descend from four generations, not only of men, but also of women noble, and this kind of nobility is so highly esteemed in Spain, as that the Catholic King giveth the Knighthood or order of Saint james, to none but such noble, as besides the demerit of their own proper virtue, prove also this lineal dissension▪ Gualinguo replied no more, and signor Hercules now weary of discoursing, thinking he had sufficiently satisfied the Queen's commandment, would have given place to some other recreation, and contentment; but the Queen beckoned to signor Antonio Barisano called the Greek, to come before her, who being arrived that day, stood by in a corner of the room to hear this argument, and smiling commanded him, that he also should move some doubt, and oppugn signor Hercules. This man is an honourable Citizen of Scio, who after the Turks occupying of that Island, not being able to endure the hard servitude of these Barbarians, came into Italy, and known in Ferrara for one learned, he was entertained by his highness, with a stipend, and had the public reading of the greek tongue committed unto him: and further, being of pleasant and jocund conversation, as one that taketh great delight in facet jests, being audacious to utter his opinion in any argument, he is therefore most acceptable to all the nobility of the city, but especially to women: having therefore done duty to the Queen, he spoke after this sort. It were easy for me (most famous Queen) it having been very doubtful, to contradict, whatsoever hath been delivered by signor Hercules, but because it wanteth not much of supper time, I will only allege, how I cannot tolerate, that women, being most imperfect creatures, should have any part in nobility, as he rather like a sycophant and slatterer, than a sincere approover of truth, without any shame at all hath affirmed; he to himself knowing very well, that he speaketh both against reason, and common use: which acknowledge nobility from no other but the man, and that deservedly: for the female (if the philosopher be worthy of credit) is no other than an imperfect male, framed through the error of nature: who intendeth ever to fashion male, & a woman compared to a man, hath the like proportion, as there is, betwixt sense, and reason; and to argue somewhat more effectually, it is a thing certain, & by the same philosopher affirmed, that in generation of man, male giveth form, and female matter: this conclusion also in all universities is received, that all deformity, and imperfection, in any thing generate, proceedeth from matter, as on the contrary, all good properties depend on form: neither for any other respect, are incorporeal substances excellenter than those corporeal, but that these with matter are conjoined, & the other from it altogether separate; which being true, how can it be affirmed, that a woman, who by administering matter, is the cause of all imperfection, should give to a man the least shadow of nobility? That a woman hath no part in nobility, & that she wholly dependeth on the man, the laws and records of Roman Emperors do confirm: and amongst other, there is a text in Vlpine, where we read, that husbands bring their wives, excellent dignity, as also their fathers do the like, while they come to be married with men of common sort: besides this, there is a record of Antony, that the women born of Consolar, or Praetorian fathers may retain the gentility of their stock, being married to noble men, and not of private condition, as also there is another testimonial of Valente and Valentino, that wives may be honourable, though ignoble, & be ennobled according to the nobility of their husbands, but afterwards, if they take an husband of meaner condition, deprived of their dignity, they follow the quality of their husbands: who seethe not that from these laws and records, a most infallible conclusion may be drawn, that women have not any part in nobility: but follow the nobility & quality of man, as the shadow doth the body: So that of themselves if they have no nobility, how can they place it upon an other? Wherefore signor Hercules, laying aside adulation, and the over great desire you have of their grace, and favour, sincerely confess the truth, and exclude women, as most imperfect creatures, from this esteemed and embraced condition, which we call Nobility: signor Barisano (most excellent Queen) (said Varano) putting confidence in a poetical & vain fable, that women naturally love where they are not beloved, & esteem greatly of such as contemn them, by rejecting women openly, laboureth to satisfy the great desire he hath of them to be beloved and regarded: But as in censuring the natural dispositions of women, he is deceived, and as he boldly produceth slander for truth, so hope I, that in vain he desireth their grace and favour: I affirm therefore, that women most beautiful and perfect creatures, may, not only ennoble themselves, but further with their proper virtue, make another partaker of Nobility, & that they, as to form man, so to accomplish him entirely noble, are most necessary: I yield that nobility principally dependeth on man; but so I add withal: that the nobility of a woman so greatly importeth, as that he cannot be counted perfectly noble, who shallbe borne of a base woman: neither will I use any other arms in subduing you, than your own: For it is true, that in the seed of man, life is potentially contained, which is form: & blood in the woman's womb is the matter, whereof the body is form, so that the soul from man, and the body from woman, have their original: But further also I aver, that if noble form, shallbe brought to noble matter the thing compounded will be perfectly noble: but if the matter be base, notwithstanding the form be noble, the compound will not be absolutely noble, but shall want one degree of nobility being that of matter. Tell me in earnest, signor Antonio would you not more respect theimage of Caesar in gold, than the same, & by the self same hand, engraven in lead, or brass? and this would you do, neither for the form which is is the same, nor in respect of the artificer being alone, but only for the matter which is more beautiful, and excellent. I grant you that material, and corporal things be less excellent than those immaterial and corporeal: as also that matter is a cause of imperfection, as she is the subject of alteration, transmutation, and instabilite in things not permanent; notwithstanding comparing of the material and corruptible things one with another, they which have more pure, and better disposed matter, do questionless prove the much more worthy and excellent things; which the Philosopher here confirmeth, saying, that in all things wherein matter is required, the better matter shallbe the more beautiful, and excellent will they fall out: and to prosecute their purpose, if it be true, that the soul followeth the temperature of the body, as the learneder sort affirm, and as we ourselves have experience, how can you deny, that the temperature of the body, given by woman, should not be of great moment to the framing of nobility, as well as celestial influence, seeing the mind, if it have a body evil tempered, and inclined to vice, can hardly be resplendent by those virtues, whereupon nobility is grounded: You cannot deny, and I know it assuredly, but that the body made by woman, hath part in nobility (although it administereth matter) seeing we perceive, that daily from the qualities of the body, as from manifest characters and demonstrations, we usually prognosticate another man's conditions, in that the shape, countenance, gestures, and motions of the body, many times procure us to know a man or a woman, not so much as ever seen by us afore, to be noble, or ignoble. You say, that woman is an imperfect man; admit I should grant you this, which notwithstanding is false, yet would I affirm that this imperfection is not substantial, but accidental: for the Philosopher intendeth not, that she should be less reasonable, than man; but calleth her, imperfect man, in that she wanteth but one thing only to be man, and this thing is of no importance to human perfection: so that as the being more than woman, giveth not perfection to man, so doth not the being less than man, bring imperfection to woman: although I think it as far off from truth, that woman is a defect of nature, or form against her intention, as I judge it false and untrue, that nature mindeth not the preservation of human kind, which no less by woman, then by man, is made perpetual: whereof the philosopher advising himself, in the self-same book, he addeth, that nature, inteutive to universal good, with special providence, fashioneth, sometimes male, and sometimes female. The defects of nature, be no other but monsters, and seldom are produced; women are so far off from being monsters, that of all things under heaven, there is not any one more excellent or beautiful; who not seldom, and in small number, but in far greater multitude than men, are produced into the world, through singular grace and favour, of loving and gentle nature, and by the author himself of nature. Confess therefore your offence, signor Antonio, and demand pardon; for your Ulpian in those imperial records by you cited, shall not be sufficient to mitigate the least dram of those punishments, which from these Ladies hang over your head, in defence of whom against the laws and records by you alleged, I will introduce the authority of Virgil, and a decree, of the most prudent Venetian commonwealth, for manifestation, how great a portion women have in nobility, Virgil speaking of Dranes, saith: 
This man his noble raca, by mother took most sure,  
For by the father's side, base was he, and obscure.  Who seethe not, that by these verses, Virgil intendeth, that women should, not only have a part in nobility, but further, that by themselves they are sufficient to give noble descent. The Venetian decree, commandeth, that the sons of a base woman, although borne in lawful matrimony, shall not be accepted to the trial of nobility, neither in any sort be admitted to their magistracies, and counsels; those most prudent and noble Signiors imagining (as truly they may) that without the nobility, and generosity of mothers, nobility in children cannot be preserved immaculate. If women, added the Greek, be incapable of those virtues, that make men noble, & famous, how can it be, that they should have any part in nobility? except peradventure, you think, that the practice of needle and spindle, deservedly ordained to women, are amongst all liberal arts, the most noble. And Varano: The needle, and spindle used of women without avarice, as they are noble and commendable exercises, so be they no impediment, but that they may proportionably be capable of all those virtues, as well to customs appertaining, as to the mind which concur with men: seeing they want none of those faculties, nor any of the instruments, which the mind employeth in virtuous operations. But if God and nature, never made any thing in vain, as all the wise affirm, than we cannot suppose, that understanding senses as well interior, as exterior, and also the corpore all instruments that women have like to men, be made in vain, and that they as well as men, may not use the same instruments for the acquiring of prudence, knowledge, wisdom; and finally, for the practising of any liberal art: therefore the divine Philosopher, in favour of women, in his common wealth, by lively reason, laboureth to prove, that women are apt to all those things, whereunto men accommodate themselves, as also are capable of heroical virtue: and Plutarch made a book of the virtue & excellency of women And although the Philosopher affirmeth, that betwixt: women and men there is the like proportion, as between sense and reason: yet intendeth he not by this, that a man should be reasonable, & a woman deprived of reason: but he dilating of domestical society, minding to infer, that as sense naturally must obey, and reason command, so in the best government of an house, a woman naturally should obey, & a man command. And this jurisdiction which a man hath over a woman, saith he, aught to be a civil, & not servile dominion: and a little afterwards, he addeth, that though a woman have not mortal virtues in that perfection as hath a man, yet notwithstanding, that she also is endued with fortitude, justice, temperance, & with that prudence, which of itself is sufficient to obey well, towards him that knoweth as well how to command. Although women, replied the Greek, have in them those points by you delivered, yet are they with so many other evil qualities accompanied, as that hardly they can effect any thing good. As they that are naturally cold, of bodies tender, soft, & over delicate, nature having framed them, rather for procreation of man, than for any other effect: seeing in all other respects, they are but impediments: therefore Cato said, that if the world could be without woman, our conversation should be like unto God: this great wise man, by this minding to infer, that man living in the company of so imperfect a creature, he could not but lead a miserable life. But that you signor Hercules believe not, that I utter as we proverbially say, nothing but wind, and that I am rather a slanderer, than a reporter of truth, hear what the Philosopher saith, describing the nature of women: Woman is apt to mourning, lamentation and despair: she is envious, slanderous, bitter, obstinate, pensive, impudent, a liar, slothful, fearful, and easy to be deceived: And the Philosopher in the sixth of his laws affirmeth, that feminine sex is so wicked, and by nature so malicious, as that hardly it can be brought in subjection under the laws. What think you of the commendations these Philosopher's attribute to women? are they not sufficient to show, how worthy they be, to have any part, or pre-eminence, in nobility? Defend them as much as you will, for you shall never make me believe, that of an ass, may be made a gallant courser. If at this day (answered Varano) all writings were not replenished, with the praises of women, I would contend with magnificent phrase to set forth the greatness of their virtue: seeing the examples of heroical virtue in women, ancient, and of these times, is no less to be observed, then in men, but considering their commendations are already well known, it is not now my intention to play the Orator: only as a defender of equity, I will affirm so much, as may suffice for the bridling of your maledictions. It is true, and I deny it not, signor Antonio, that the author of nature, minding to place, the flower of beauty in women, fashioned them, with a beautiful, soft, and delicate body, to the end that, together with the sense of sight, giving delight to feeling, they might inflame in man that desire which causeth eternity: whereupon, as in woman, beauty is a great ornament, so to be soft and delicate, procureth in her no imperfection: but if that be true which the Philosopher affirmeth, that those delicate of skin & flesh, are the more pregnant of wit, we may conclude, that women are more apt than men, to science, sapience, and all those virtues, which most of all in men appear. It is also true, that Nature intentive to general preservation, in all kinds hath placed a female sex, & male, or the virtue of the one and other; but so is it false, that woman is produced to no other end, than for the fourming of man: for to beget their own likes, is the proper end, of plants and creatures unreasonable; but of the reasonable creature, felicity is the proper end, which man in this life can never enjoy without woman, which by testimony of the Philosopher is confirmed, who in his Oeconomiks saith, That man, as other creatures is not made only to be, but to be well, and therefore the natural conversation of woman, is necessary for him, not so much to generate, as from her to receive great benefit, which being true, as doubtless it is, so shall it be a special heresy to affirm, that a woman is any burden, or that without the woman our conversation could be happy, for this repugneth to reason, experience, & to the authority of this great Philosopher, who also affirms, that the family can not be perfect without woman: & that as a woman is the half of a family, so be women the half of a City: and further, in his economy he saith, there can not be any thing more holy, or worthier of a wise man, than to seek conjunction with an excellent and commendable wife, and by her to bring forth children: as also that to a man of sincere mind it is no ways befitting, rashly to converse with every woman, to the end that of a corrupt wife, he beget not children like their mothers: by which words, it may easily be imagined how highly the Philosopher esteemed the mother's nobility & generosity in procreation of children. Further with the authority of Homer, he affirms, that in this life, there cannot greater felicity befall men, than when the husband, and wife govern their family with one will and consent. And Hesiodus contrary to Cato's severity, said, that three things to a man were Very necessary, an house, a wife, and a yoke of oxen, minding to testify, that domestical conversation with a woman, was necessary for the good and happy life of a man. And the Philosopher in his Economics, saith, that the husband who esteeneth not his wife, is no less ingrate, than he, which contemneth his benefactor: by this inferring, that woman is not only a comfort, but also to man a special benefit. Seeing the honest & chaste woman is, not only a companion to her husband in his bed & contentments, but further, an ease to his labours, in his afflictions, a comfort, in his infirmities a medicament, full of loving and affectionate servitude, neither can man, without the assistance of the woman, govern well his house, seeing whatsoever the man getteth abroad, she faithfully disposeth & preserveth in the house. But whom will we believe, if we give no credit to experience? Do not we ourselves find, that without women, there is no pleasure or sweet contentment to be tasted, as they, who with their sweetness, temper the bitter of this our life, the which without women would be more rustical and inculte, then that of the most wild & savage beasts, they removing from our hearts, vile and base thoughts, ease vexations, miseries, and those turbulent cares, that often accompany us, and with their great beauty, ever representing before our eyes, the image of divinity, so far off are they from withdrawing us from worthy enterprises, that rather they stir up our wits, & exalt them to knowledge of greatest & highest things. But this your depravation is exceeding great, signor Antonio, seeing, to procure credit to your calumniations, you Use the Philosopher's authority, in sinister sense, who though describing the nature of women, he placeth in them, the excess of some wicked inclination, yet doth he not altogether free men from them: but which is worse, you a prodigal dispenser of their rebukes, & in their commendations, most covetous, spend many superfluous words, in discovering their vices, malignantly concealing their are virtues: and yet your own conscience knoweth, that in the same place by you cited, he describeth women to be more merciful than men, better retentive of memory, more vigilant, more sober: And Plato in Menone, and in the fift of his Commonwealth, esteems woman; in a manner equal in virtue with man, who ordained, that the government of the City, the magistracies, as well of war, as peace, and all other offices, should be common betwixt men and women: and the Philosopher, although he esteem not woman in every respect, equal with man, notwithstanding, proportionable, he attributeth unto them, temperance, justice, & fortitude: but if without prejudicing truth, I should grant you, that women naturally were inclining to some vice, I would also affirm, that they are so much the more to be recommended, by how much subduing their wicked inclinations, they live virtuously. Here Varano stayed: The Greek being about to reply, as he who wanteth no words, the lady Tarquinia Molza smiling said, Now for god's sake proceed no further, signor Barisano but be contented with what you have hitherto spoken, in reproach of women, to the end these Ladies, who here round about attend, deservedly provoked against you, after the manner of Baccides, make you not a new Orpheus, The Greek laughed & said these Gentlewomen, most gracious Lady, have rather cause to thank me, than to be offended: For if I had not contradicted signor Hercules, they should never have heard so great commendation, as he hath bestowed on them: and I am assured, that the more I had charged than with blame, the more had their praises like the Palm tree, reached up even unto heaven. With these words the discourse was concluded, and the Queen perceiving, that it would not be long ere the Court returned, commanded the Lady Camilla Mosti, and the Lady Camilla Bevelacqua, that they should dance: when they suddenly taking hands, trod two measures to the sound of the lute, and danced the Canaries with good grace, & to the contentment of those that beheld them: but the Duke, with the rest of the Court arrived: the Queen rising up, all departed to the Duchess lodging, where was prepared a most melodious Consort, of divers musical instruments & sweet voices, which consort continued a good part of the supper: the tables taken up, some time was spent in divers sports, & other pleasant relaxations: when the duke perceiving the air overcast with most obscure clouds, and that the winds with violent blasts, threatened continual and pouring rains, in prejudice of their pleasures, in hunting and fishing, gave order to set forward the morning following. His highness therefore rising betimes, and hearing the ordinary divine service, embarked himself with the excellent duchess, the Lady Donna Marfisa, the Lady Donna Bradamante, with the dames of the Court, in a most sumptuous bark, causing the Buccintore to be appointed for the Lady Countess of Sala, and the rest of the Court. This is a great vessel built with such art & workmanship, as than that there could not any have been made, either more beautiful, or sumptuous, considering it hath Hals, Chambers, Galleries, and seats, so that to the beholders it seemeth a most admirable sight: and I am certain, that if it had been in the time when jason salled to fetch the golden Fleece, this, and not that of the Argonantes, should thither have set sail: The Knights and gentlewomen therefore accommodating themselves in this bake, after that with most delicate vinds they had broken their fast, the Lady Countess of Sala, made a motion that there might a Queen be chosen by election, & not by lot, whose Empire should not further extend, than the Bark they were in, and was to continue for the whole passage, to the end that she by moving some pleasant discourse, might cut off the tediousness of the voyage: Each one therefore beginning to whisper in the ears of another, by little and little, with the general applause of all, the Lady Tarquinia Molza, a Gentlewoman of Modona, was chosen Queen, for her rare and extraordinary wit, by the duchesle wonderfully beloved, and of all the Court reverenced, who after modest refusal, in the end accepted this honour and Empire: Every one stood doubtful, expecting, what the new Queen would command, for entertainment of that evening, when she, after some indifferent meditation, said: Amongst all the goods termed external, or of fortune, me thinks, that after honour, riches holds the chiefest place, we seeing by experiense, that riches in a manner of all men are desired, they judging, that nothing is more proportionable to human felicity, than riches: I therefore considering, that the other day honour, and yesterday nobility was very well discussed, provided, I thought, that this should be acceptable to the company, I would make election of him, who to day should discourse of riches: and I believe this would not be greatly from the purpose, signor Hercules Varano, having by lively reasons averred, that riches are the supportance, & stay of Nobility. Then all the standers by began to say to the Queen & among themselves, that this could not but be a most pleasing and profitable discourse: and they were very instant, that she would command, who might thereof entreat. The Queen therefore turning to Count Hercole Tassone, a Gentleman of good customs, and with good letters adorned. You signor Conte, said she, shall be the man, who must undertake this enterprise, to discourse of riches: provided, it may be lawful for any that will, to contradict you in all those things, which to them shall not seem allowable or convenient: as also, that you in like manner be enjoined to make answer, according to the begun method and course. Seeing it so pleaseth your Highness (renowned Queen) said Count Hercole, that I, among so many of greater worth than myself, should be he to undertake this burden & charge, not to oppugn your highness judgement, which I esteem far above my own, I neither can, or will in any sort refuse it: and so much the more willingly will I accept of it, by how much it is permitted any one to contradict me: For I having (as the reward of my barren invention) little or nothing at all to bring forth, riches in my hands may easily fall into poverty, and become beggarly, if these abundant wits by plentiful contradiction, do not sustain & reduce them to their proper end. Hear Tassone musing to himself, began afterwards in this manner.   

The sixth days Discourse: Wherein is contained, a discussion of Riches.  
THere be some (thrice excellent Queen) who having employed their whole endeavour in acquiring of riches, and afterwards, either through hard fortune, or by their own proper defects, finally constrained to live poorly, not knowing how to be revenged, play the hypocrites; and showing themselves contemners of riches, by filling other men's ears with their blame and reproach, term riches, the mother of arrogancy, insolency, and intemperance: affirming last of all, with Diogenes the Cynic, that virtue cannot abide with riches. I both ever was, and am now more than ever, far off from their opinion, and hold this as a firm conclusion, that a man in this world, cannot enjoy a perfect and good life, without riches: conformable to which my opinion, assigning the proper definition of riches, I affirm, that it is no other, but an heap and collection of all such instruments, and means, which to the sustentation, benefit, and ornament of an house, and civil life, are necessaiye; without which, man cannot be called perfectly happy: & therefore I say, it is an heap of all those instruments, because any of these failing, a man cannot absolutely be counted rich: as also I affirm, that without riches a civil man can not be happy: it being the principal instrument where with to exercise virtue; and therefore riches is no less worthy, by men to be esteemed, than it is: these instruments, which gathered together, make that heap, which we call riches, is divided into seven parts, that is, possessions, cattle, houses, money, jewels, rich furniture, and servants: possessions & cattle, serve for sustentation of human life: houses, money and servants for benefit: precious jewels, and rich furniture for ornament. He then may truly be said to be rich, who hath sufficient, land, money, herds, flocks, and of all other sorts of creatures, aswell commodious as delectable: he that hath a convenient and fair house, rich furniture, as well in vestments as ornaments of the house: and that possesseth all these things securely and justly, being his after such a property, as that he may sell or bestow them at his pleasure, and shall generally use all these things, partly for commodity, alloting some of the other only to ornament and contentment: Let him have therefore, his farms and possessions both fruitful, and beautiful: seeing fruitfulness shall turn to his benefit, and beauty to his pleasure, and contentment: It is then requisite, they be planted and graffed with goodly rows of vines, and fruitful trees, and near unto them, a fine summer house, with gardens, fair orchards, pleasant, and shadowy groves, of which orchards, and gardens, he shall not make any emolument of importance, but only use them for pleasure and delight: I conclude therefore (most excellent Queen) that who in so many commodities shall be abundant, may be termed fortunate and happy, if he be also of them a faithful destributer and dispenser.  
Hear Tassone making some pause, the Greek, either believing he had no more to say, or at the least, very hasty, to contradict, stepping forward: Your discourse said he, signor Conte, hath had in it this one thing good, that it was but short and brief: touching the rest, the conclusion you inferred is altogether false, contrary to divine and true Philosophy, the which by lively reasons I hope to make known to this most famous Queen, all these gracious Ladies, and most noble knights. Soft and fair (said Tassone) peradventure you will not find it so easy to prove my conclusion false, as you have been ready to cut off my discourse. Pardon me (replied the Greek) if I have been somewhat too forward: for jealous of public good, I could not tolerate, that you should further proceed, delivering false doctrine: not being any thing more contrary to truth, then to place riches in the number of those goods, which are proportionable to human felicity, it being in effect no other than a mass and heap of those external evils, which of themselves are sufficient to break and dissipate all internal goods, whereof whosoever is possesser, he is worthy to be called happy. The truth of which my conclusion, I hope to prove unto you, by the reason and authority of the wisest Pholosophers. And beginning first from the very birth and original of riches, it cannot be good, seeing they spring from a corrupt and pestilent generation, they being the infamous offspring of Covetousness, and guilty even of the same flagition: and therefore the Philosopher saith: every rich man is wicked, or the heir of a wicked man: this man hath been enriched by usuries, he by spoils, another by treason: one is made rich by flattery, another gaineth by incest and adulteries: a third sort advance themselves by lies: there be such as make benefit of their own wives, daughters, and sisters, as also to others, bloodshedding is profitable: Finally, it is but very rare that wealth is gathered together justly, and with honesty, so that if it should bring felicity to man, we might conclude, that felicity were no other but a reward of iniquity. I further allege, how that is not good, which maketh not good the possessor thereof, but riches do not only, not make good, but procure the possessor of them to be wicked. That riches cannot make their possessor good. Seneca testifieth, saying, What do riches advantage a fool, seeing by them he cannot become wise? but that they make a rich man to be wicked, it may by the testimony of the Philosopher be proved, who after this manner describeth the properties of the rich: the rich saith he, are proud, great iniuriers, insolent, delicate, & intemperate. And Seneca conformable to this saith, that riches puffeth up the mind, hatcheth insolence and pride, acquireth envy, disturbeth the mind, and induceth fear, whereas on the contrary, modest poverty maketh a man modest, industrious, secure, & is as it were a whip, that scourgeth one to virtue: therefore Arcesilaus said, that though poverty were bitter, yet brought it forth excellent children. And good Diogenes called poverty, the wisdom that by itself was learned: minding to infer, that poverty, & not wealth, maketh a man wise: Thirdly, I will allege, how that it is no true good by an honest man to be esteemed, whereof the man wicked may as well be possessor as the good, yea, be he never so odious or contemptible a man. And who seethe not that a ruffian, bawd, or any other common Vintner, may not be a possessor of riches. Fourthly, amongst human kind, that is no convenient or proper good, which cannot be possessed without the wrong of many, but such is wealth, in that one cannot be rich, but many must therefore become poor: therefore riches is no true good: Finally, that cannot be good, which to human generation is an occasion of infinite evil: But riches are of this nature, for from them spring discords, contentions, wars, enmities, rancois, and other such like evils, therefore they are not good. signor Count affirmeth, that this beatitude which we term riches, serveth both for profit and ornament to human life: and if he lived commodiously that had need of many things, this conclusion should be true: but who seeth not, that the richer any man is, of so many things the more he hath need, he not being able to use or preserve wealth without many instruments and helps? and therefore that sometime is true, that whosoever possesseth much, wanteth much: and contrariwise, he that measureth his abundance, not by superfluity, but by natural necessity, hath need of little: But what commodity so great may riches bring, as may recompense the jealousy and care they minister unto man, or requite that danger, which putteth to compromise the soul's health, and bodily security of him rich? The rich, & not the poor, are a prey to murderers, thieves, menquel lers, against these be poisons practised, and these be the men, who in strongest castles fear treacheries: O happy riches may we then well say, seeing they art no sooner possessed, but security faileth them. And what shalwe say of ornament? It cannot be denied, but that costly garments, precious jewels, sumptuous palaces, magnificent furniture, are a special ornament and glory to the possessor thereof, that to have a chest replenished with gold and silver, to be ever accompanied with a great train of servitors, make a man worthy of great estimation. But O most transitory kind of glory, seeing man, by darkness itself, seeketh after light, not considering, that in fair apparel, and sumptuous palaces, men admire the nature of matter, art, and the architects invention, rather than the possessor of all these, and that the brightness of jewels is their own proper splendour, and not of the man that weareth them: as also gold & silver, is no other but red, and white earth, esteemed of only, through men's error; finally, to be environed with many servants, is nothing but to be beset with many enemies, which be so much the fit to offend, as the other be external, and these domestical enemies. If all these commodities gathered together, most renowned Queen, serve for benefit, and ornament to human life, or whether they make a man happy or unhappy, anyone of judgement may discern: for my part. I would rather affirm, that if felicity (as saith Aristotle) is our own proper good, & cannot by any accident whatsoever be taken away, than that riches therein should have no part, as it that by fortune given, may by her also, in a moment be taken away:  
As further I would affirm, that chief good in this human life, were no other, but a stable and constant tranquillity of mind, which despising all those goods whereof fortune is proud; and above all others, insolent riches, to be only confident in virtue: Notwithstanding, I attend my answer.  
Behold (most illustrious Queen) answered Tassone, one of that erroneous crew, who injuried by fortune, in revenge, contendeth to prove, that she hath not, so much as the least interest in human felicity, & that the goods she courteously administereth, amongst which, riches are of no small esteem, are not to be recounted in the number of human goods, as disproportionable unto that, which of itself being sufficient, is called chief good: notwithstanding, I hope by so lively reasons, to discover this hypocrisy, as that there shall not be any of so simple judgement, who giving credit to his allegatious, will become a contemner of riches. I say then, that man, as he is in form from other creatures different, so is his end from theirs, very diverse: the end of other creatures, is no other, but living, to generate those like themselves. Man borne in the Kingdom of Nature and Fortune, is not only to live and generate, but to live well and happily: Nature of herself provideth for other creatures, things sufficient unto life: Nature procureth man to live, but reason and Fortune cause him to live well: creatures live after the laws of Nature, man liveth by Reason, Prudence, and Art: living creatures may live a solitary life, man alone, being of himself insufficient, and by Nature, an evil creature, without domestical and civil conversation, cannot lead other than a miserable and discontented life: and therefore, as the Philosopher saith very well: That man which cannot live in civil company, either he is a God, or a beast, seeing only God is sufficient of himself; and a solitary life best agreeth with a beast. Want therefore, and natural desire of company, and not fire (as others falsely affirm) gave beginning to houses, villages, and Cities, which houses, villages, & cities, as without their necessary instruments, they cannot be sustained, so without wealth are they of themselves insufficient, wealth being the principal of those instruments, that maintain houses & cities: now a city being nothing else, but a body of men united together, sufficient of itself to live, it is necessary, that like to a human body it be compounded of unlike members, the which in goodness and dignity, among themselves unequal, all notwithstanding concur to the good establishment of a City: whereupon as it would be a thing monstrous, & incommodious, to see a human body wholly compounded, of heads, arms, legs, or of other members uniform in themselves; so would it be altogether as disproportionable, and a thing so would it be altogether as disproportionable, and a thing of itself insufficient, if all men in a City, were artificers, husbandmen, soldiers, judges, or of one self condition, & quality: There cannot therefore be any so uncircumspect, but he may perceive, that for the preservation, and living well of a city, it is requisite, there be artificers, mercenaries, husbandmen, merchants, soldiers, judges, Magistrates, Princes, and Priests: which being (as it is) true; so is it likewise convenient, that there should be poor, rich, noble, & ignoble. And therefore they, who laboured to bring in a commonwealth, all men to one condition and quality, created a policy rather of celestial, than terrestrial men: having no less erred, then did that Physician, who sought to make harmony of notes unisone: for as of divers notes and tunes it is compounded, and reduced only to one note, ceaseth then to be harmony, so of the divers qualities of men is a city ordained, and reduced to one condition of citizens; only, is not then any more a city, nor of itself sufficient. If therefore all these allegations be true, you can never signor Antonio, banish riches out of a city, seeing they are a necessary instrument for her sustentation, and well employed, be the supporters not of vice, but of virtue, and liberal arts: as contrariwise poverty is the proper nourishment of arts mechanical, which arts have had their original, from nothing else, then from human indigence. And if you, admitting riches to be in a city, should but be thereof a just distributer, I am sure you would rather bestow than on those who exercised liberal arts, and were capable of virtue, then on mechanical, mercenary, or husbandmen; seeing these being unapt to virtue, and rather instruments, than parts of a commonwealth, their sordid lives requireth it not, whereas otherwise it is requisite, that virtuous men should live with some liberal and commendable decency. Speak not therefore, signor Antonio, against your own mind, but yielding to reason, freely confess, that riches in themselves are good, & worthy to be placed, among those goods wished for: & though sometimes, they appear wicked, yet is not this their own defect, but rather the fault of his depraved mind, that possesseth, and badly useth it: for as signor Varano, yesterday showed, they are the mother of liberal arts, the prop of Nobility, good education, and gentle customs. And therefore the Philosopher saith, that doctrine, & nobility, rather accompany the rich, then poor, in that he cannot have leisure, that wanteth comings in: affirming likewise, that from hence it proceedeth, that the rich abounding in those things, for want whereof, others commonly are unjust, and injurious, rich men are better, then poor, and worthy to be called noble. I confess, signor Antonio, that virtue only is the artificer that frameth felicity, but as the Artificer cannot work, without convenient instruments, so virtue, without the gifts that nature and fortune join unto her, cannot be perfect, nor true felicity: but what need we use authority, and arguments, to persuade this our Greek, to favour riches and rich men, seeing by his own example, if not testimony, we may prove, that riches are good, and rich men virtuous, and well instructed, we seeing daily, that he as a virtuous man, and well brought up, so doth he always converse with the rich, and altogether shun the familiarity of them poor, as separate from virtue, and all good customs: as also that he, by those rich, as lovers of virtue, and men virtuous, is better beloved and esteemed then the poor. It is true (said the Greek smiling) that I frequent the houses of the rich, and not of the poor; But yet, as doth the Physician, who visiteth the sick, and not the whole: as also, the self same Physician is more by the weak desired, than the whole. But for all this, you not having overthrown my reasons, I assure you, they standing firm, I mind not to change my opinion. I am sure indeed (answered Tassone) that you will never change the houses of the rich, for the poor: for the poor envy your virtue, and the rich love, and strive to imitate it: and therefore it will be no difficult matter for me, seeing you affect the rich, to make you also restore due honour to riches. Beginning therefore at your first opposition, it is false, that riches either have, or may have, evil spring or original, as those that borne with the world, and with the same coeternal, in respect of themselves, are good, and so known unto you, by whom in favour of felicity, they are desired and sought after: but in that they may be heaped up together, both by mean lawful, and unlawful, yea, and through human malice, for the most part, they are by unlawful means acquired: hereupon it seemeth, that riches grow from that corrupt stock you have spoken of: notwithstanding, the defect is not in the riches, but in the man wicked, that badly acquireth, possesseth, and useth them: yet may they for all this, as I say, have a good original: For often times, together with honour, they are given in reward of virtuous actions, as also further, good Fortune, sedulous industry, honest frugality, may to another heap up riches, as Hesiodus in these verses teacheth, 
A little to a little, add thou still,  
And to this little less, by art and skill.  
By doing thus, thou shalt soon drive away,  
Unhappy want, and poverty, I say.   
I yield unto you, that riches cannot make good the possessor of them, neycher can they make a fool, wise: seeing that only internal goods, which be the perfections, and virtues of the mind are of force to make a man good: riches being a good external, can neither make the possessor of them, good, or wicked: It is true also, that the Philosopher describing the customs of the rich, termeth them, insolent, proud, injurious, and by such like titles: yet so we must observe, that in his rhetoric, discoursing of the customs, and inclinations of all qualities, and conditions of men, thus describeth them, as inclining to vice, to the end the orator, according to the disposition and inclination of the auditor, might the sooner move him to that affection whereunto he was bending, & after this manner easily persuade him: but he never affirmeth in any place, that riches is not to be placed among those goods, that assist to human felicity, seeing both houses, and cities, languish and consume without riches. It is no less true also, that every wicked and vile man, may possess riches, & yet is this no obstacle, but they may be good, & by a virtuous man esteemed: for if this reason should prevail, health, strength of body, & beauty, should be goods unworthy of a virtuous man, seeing likewise in men contemptible they are many times found. signor Antonio further allegeth, that riches to human kind, is not profitable or good, seeing without the wrong of many, they cannot be possessed, in that one cannot be rich, but many through the same must become poor, and herein he is not advised, how he contradicteth his own self: for supposing poverty to be evil, he comes to confess, that riches, contrary to poverty, is good: he addeth more over, that riches is not good, because it is occasion of many evils, which amongst men fall out, as controversies, discords, wars, murders, thefts, rapines, and such like. This opposition, is a most prevalent proof for understanding, that riches is a principal good, seeing they move every one's desire and will, to endeavour by all means to attain unto them: and therefore he had assigned a truer cause, in saying, that human malice and pertinacy, and not riches, were the cause of all the abovenamed evils: we might also prove by more reasons, that poverty were rather the cause of those inconveniences, seeing the want of those things wherewith the rich men abound, kindleth desire and greediness in the poor, that afterwards is the cause of all those evils, which every day are committed: And therefore the Philosopher, contrary to your Arcesilaus, saith, that poverty bringeth forth seditions, and maleficences. Our Greek yet further affirmeth, that riches is not commodious, saying: that the richer any one is, the more things he hath need of: but if the definition of riches be true, of necessity his position must be false, for where is the heap and collection of all necessary instruments, for sustentation, benefit, and ornament of human life, there can be no defect, or want of any thing: and though riches procure a man to be jealous over himself, and sometimes putteth him in danger, yet from this reason can we not conclude that they are wicked: but rather the contrary, seeing there is no fear of losing bad, but good things, which of their own nature, bring the possessor into no danger, but rather is procured by man's covetousness and depravation: as in like manner, lust is the cause, that the chastity of a fair woman is hardly secure, and yet must we not therefore say, that beauty is a wicked thing. I grant unto you also signor Antonio, that in fair apparel & sumptuous palaces, the nature of matter & Architects wit is rather admired, than the rich possesser of these things: & that splendour & brightness, is proper to the jewels, & gold, and not to the man rich, who therewith adorneth himself, but not withstanding this, if the rich man had not made this rich apparel, or built a sumptuous house for his own & public benefit, neither could the nature of matter, nor the Architects wit, & invention of themselves, procure admiration: as also the beauty & splendour of jewels should remain buried in the inwardmost caves of the earth, except the rich man, discovering as it were the treasures of Nature, should not offer them to the beholders eyes: beside this, in all these ornaments, the beams of magnificence shine, which is numbered amongst the principallest virtues heroical. To possess therefore, and use all these things, both how, when, & with convenient measure & quantity, bringeth unto man a singular decency, being truly worthy to be placed in the numbers of goods desired; and to be sought after, as in like maneral other kind of riches: I say likewise, that felicity is proper to us, & cannot be taken away: as also, that riches being a good of Fortune, remaineth in the power of the same fortune. But we must observe, that felicity may be considered two manner of ways, the first, as it dependeth of his proper efficient cause, which is virtue: the second, as it dependeth not only of the efficient, but also of all causes instrumental, and the circumstances necessarily conjoined with the cause efficient, in the first manner considered, it is our own proper, & cannot be taken away, because virtue true productresse of felicity, is not subject to blows of fortune, neither have honour, riches, nor any other external goods in it any part. In this manner the Philosopher observeth felicity, in the first of his ethics, when he distinguisheth the felicity of Plato's Idea, from Riches, honour, and those contentments that the vulgar sort esteem. In this manner also did he consider it in the seventh of his politics, where he said: Felicity happeneth not unto us through the goods of Fortune, but every one, the more he possesseth of virtue and prudence, and after them frameth his operations, the greater is his felicity: and this is proved by the testimony of God himself, who not for any good external, but of himself, is happy and blessed. Felicity considered after the second manner; it being no other but a collection, and heap of human goods, as well internal, as external, which jointly together concur, by mean of virtuous action, to the enjoying of perfect and chiefest contentment: although it can not be wholly taken away, yet notwithstanding in many circumstances it may be hindered. After this manner the Philosopher considereth it in the first of his Rhetoric, where he doth not only place, the goods of the mind, amongst the parts of felicity, but also the goods of the body, and those external: In this sort also doth he observe it, in the seventh of his Ethics, where he plainly affirmeth, that an happy man, hath need of goods external, and of fortune, to the end, that in his operations he may not be hindered: which thing, saith he, being very well known, prosperous fortune, and felicity, by many come to be termed, the self-same things. We must further note, that the Philosopher in the place by you cited, Useth these formal words: Chief good is our proper own: being such, as that hardly it can be taken from us: He denieth not therefore, but that felicity anay be taken away, but yet he saith, very hardly, minding to infer, that it could not be absolutely removed, but may peradventure be defrauded of his circumstances. Out of which, we may very well conclude, that felicity should be deprived of her principal instrument, wanting riches: and that he which is not rich, can not be perfectly happy, considering that he cannot exercise the Virtue of liberality, beneficence, and magnificence, which make a man worthy of honour.  
Me thinks, signor Antonio, said the Queen, your cause is in such sort overthrown, as that it booteth you little to reply any further: and I am assured, that from these Signiors, you should not receive the least suffragation of poverty, if you were to gather their voices by scrutanie.  
It would not be a just and indifferent scrutany (most excellent Queen, said the Greek, smiling) if the number of the rich were not equally balanced, with as many poor: because passion, which is ever in the rich predominant, and not equity, would give sentence: Notwithstanding I will accept your majesties judgement, as a firm decree: neither will I further reply, expecting that one day I may be made to conceive, by one that with effects, and not words, shall prove, that riches are good, and worthy of a virtuous man.  
And although other persuasions were not sufficient, said Count Guido Caleagnini, yet might experience manifest it unto you, which every day showeth, that riches is not only a necessary instrument of felicity, but further, that among all worldly goods, it holdeth chiefest place: seeing riches without labour, dispenseth liberally to him rich, of all other goods, which the poor man by virtue, can not with great industry attain unto: And it seemeth he richly borne, is in like manner borne gracious, virtuous, worthy to be beloved of every one, and commended: the which by you learned, being well and rightly understood, you dedicate your labours, not to the virtuous, but unto the rich: And furthermore, we see that Titles, and honours, are by Princes, rather dispensed, to the rich, than to the poor, as likewise for one virtuous, that they retain in their Courts, we may reckon ten rich: as those that are reputed, much more profitable and honourable to the commonwealth and Prince. with their riches, than are the virtuous with their virtue.  
How greatly wealth exceedeth virtue (added Count Palla Strozzi) in my judgement, that wise answer given by Sophocles, to the wife of Hiero tyrant of Syracuse, manifesteth: For he by her demanded, whether it was better to be rich or virtuous. I see the virtuous (answered he) every day at the rich men's gates, but never did I see the rich at the gates of the virtuous, being an evident sign, that riches holdeth virtue as mercenary.  
Signior Count (answered the Greek) and if the rich would but look into their own defects, as they conceive the necessities of the virtuous, the contrary would happen: for then the rich would resort to the virtuous men's houses, neither would they ever from them departed: for another can not give judgement, in that he himself knoweth not: The wise and virtuous know what gold and silver is, & to what use their dispensation serveth. But of the rich questionless many not knowing, what sapience and virtue is, buried in the darkness of their ignorance, they make thereof the like account, as did Aesopes' Cock of the precious stone: but seeing, in favour of riches, you have cited the example of a flatterer, for so may Sophocles with that foolish woman be termed sufficient for my part in favour of virtue, to recite unto you the beginning of a Letter, which Antigonus the most mighty king of Asia wrote to Zeno Citico a most wise Philosopher: I, said he, as I exceed thee in fortune, and glory, so in sapience, liberal studies, and perfect felicity, which thou possessest, I know myself far inferior unto thee. The King knew himself by the Philosopher exceeded in perfect felicity, reputing riches & glory for things most vain: King Antigonus knew well what he had need of, and therefore he drew near unto him, one that was wise: the which if many other rich men knew also, they would hunt after the virtuous, much more than they do, neithes would they so swell, or be puffed up with their riches wanting sapience: for they might conceive, that the rich without virtue are no other, but sheep that have their fleece of gold, as the magnanimous king Alfonso of Arragon was wont to term them: further alleging, that rich men, like tapistry hangings, served rather for ornaments, of halls and chambers, than for any other purpose: they being in effect, not much unlike to painted images; but in his affairs he used those virtuous, who as they be rare, so of necessity, in Courts they must needs be the less in number. But peradventure I have said too much.  
Speak what you please, said Count Alfonso Turcho, for my part, I make no doubt, but that riches is one of the greatest goods, that may befall a man in this life: yea, and I hold opinion, that the more riches increase, the more human felicity is augmented: so that he most rich, may be said to be also most happy. In this last part, signor Conte (said Tassone) you are deceived, seeing felicity rather consisteth in indifferent than excessive riches. You having proved (replied Tuncho) that riches is a good, I cannot see, but that riches increasing, good is thereby augmented, and consequently felicity.  
Goods (answered Tassone) as hath other wise been affirmed, are of diverse sorts, that is, of the body, mind and of fortune. And between the goods of the mind, and those of Fortune, there is this notable difference, that excess in the goods of fortune, as are riches, either hurt, or help not him that possesseth them: but goods of the mind, to the greater height they attain, so much the more make they their possessor happy. And if signor Barisano had tied himself to this conclusion, that not riches, but immeasurable riches, were rather impediment, than fur therance to live well, and happily, I should have been conformable to this opinion: For superfluous riches bring often times upon him rich, those inconveniences, which he hath recounted: and peradventure in this respect, those severe Philosophers blamed riches, therefore the Philosopher saith, that prosperity of fortune, when it exceedeth, it is an impediment to felicity, so that in such excess, it cannot in reason be termed prosperity. And in another place, likewise he affirmeth, that indifferent possession of the goods of fortune, is worthy to be counted best, the which easily obeyeth to reason, as doth excess the contrary: And further he addeth in praise of mediocrity, that all those indifferent rich, are apt to preserve themselves: in that they desire not other men's goods, as do the poor, neither are theirs by the poor desired, so much as the goods of them rich: whereupon they themselves neither circumventing, others, nor by others laid in wait for, or circumuenced, they live without danger. In like manner Phocilides affirmed, that for the happy state of a Commonwealth; it was to be wished, that Citizens should have indifferent, yet sufficient riches: minding to infer, that so much riches sufficed, as wherewith veitue might with decency be practised: and that those, who in riches, power, or friends do superabound, are good Citizens, because they neither can, nor will support another man's dominion: that mean wealth is not only sufficient of itself to felicity, but also to the happy state of a commonwealth: by this it may be comprehended, that the Lawgivers were indifferent rich: for Solon as we read in his verses, was indifferent rich, & so was Lycurgus, Charondas, Faleus Carthaginian, Hyppodamus Milesian, and Finally, the greater part of all the others: so that it is evident, that moderate, and not immeasurable riches, are the furtherance to happy life. I shall remain satisfied, if to this you have delivered, you add but some firm & sound reason, said count Alfonso. And Tassone. I commend your wit, seeing you rely not on bare authority, but behold the reason: It is a thing most certain, that the instrument wherewith the artificer exerciseth his trade, aught to be proportionable, both to the same artificer and art: for if it be diminished, or too exceeding great, neither to the artificer, not the work itself, will it succeed well. Riches therefore, being the instrument, wherewith a virtuous man practiseth virtue, it is necessary that after such a sort, they be unto virtue proportionable, and the man virtuous, as neither through defect, nor excess, virtuous actions (wherein felicity consisteth) be hindered: and in that moderate riches is between the defect and excess, this of necessity must needs be the sufficient and proportionable instrument: and excess shall either be hurtful, or no whit at all furthering felicity. But moreover, if from increase of riches felicity should take augmentation, considering riches may multiply infinitely, it would also follow, that felicity, which is the end of man, should be infinite: whereupon man, not being able ever to attain unto it fully, of all other things created, he only should fail of his proper end: I conclude therefore, that as without riches, there can be no perfect felicity, so the excess of riches either hurteth, or helpeth not at all: and that mediocrity is an apt instrument unto virtue, and an happy life. These reasons, are so well grounded, said Turcha, as that in them I remain fully satisfied. Out of doubt added Gualinguo, whosoever cannot practise vortue with moderate riches, will much less practise it with excess: seeing superaboundance of riches is far more proportionable to vice, than virtue: And ordinarily in them most rich, those evil dispositions are discovered, which by the Philosopher are ripped up in his Rhetoric, seeing in that place he understandeth it by them superaboundantly rich, and not by the other, rich with mediocrity, considering that in them, insolence, pride, intemperance, & many other vices abound, whereof immeasurable riches is the proper nourishment. I believe (said Count Hercules Bevelacqua) that so it is: but yet further I desire to understand, whether he is rich that possesseth, or he that useth them, for of this I am doubtful, in that I see divers, who notwithstanding they make thereof no use, yet are they esteemed most rich. Vain is possession without use (answered Tassone (as the divine Philosopher affirmeth in Eutimedo) therefore to be rich consisteth, not only in possession, but also, in using riches: & he that should say, more in use then possession, might not peradventure speak much amiss, in that he which maketh no use of them, is in no other respect different from one poor, but that the poor man is poor through necessity, and he through will and election: and therefore many not knowing, that to be rich, consisteth principally in using of wealth, are deceived: & not foreseeing thus much, by forbearing the use of them, impoverash themselves. Nay, and I promise you, I am of opinion (said Count Hercules,) that these sort of men are much more miserable than the poor: for the poor desire Riches to supply their wants, and these men hunt after them, to the end, that in abundance, they might yet live in want: neither can I imagine the cause and reason, of so great folly. Avarice (said Tassone) springeth from a firm hope, of long life, and never thinking to die: for who is so foolish, that would spare to day, if he believed to die to morrow,? But a man promising unto himself, long life, as if he were to live ever, storeth up riches & money infinitely, hoping that one day he shall rejoice in them, and in this vain hope, feeding himself with air, he liveth like a Chameleon, and finally, in the midst of abundance, dieth in want. How can it be, said count Scipio Sacrati, that to be in hope of long life, should make a man covetous, we seeing by experience, that avarice, is a particular vice to old men, who hourly expect death? Old men (said Tassone) do not expect, but fear death, as they that are much more desirous of life, then young men, and therefore Marcus Tullius said, that there was not any one so decrepit, which did not yet promise unto himself some years of life: but for another cause also old men are covetous, for blood in them coming to refrigerate, & not being able to joy any more in those contentmentes, wherein youth is commonly prodigal: as also having many times proved want in times past, fearing the like should happen to them again, they addict themselves to the heaping up of money, reposing in it all their joy, and contentment. Having observed (said the Count of Scandiano) these men, that greedy of riches, are called covetous, I find them after such a manner intentive, to the heaping up of money, as that it excepted, all other riches seemeth unto them nothing worth, which maketh me believe, that in the possession of money consisteth true riches: seeing by the means of money, we may ivioy all other riches, yea and it appeareth, that they who are moneyed, be in a certain manner Tyrants over others, as though all things should obey unto money: And therefore Philip the father of great Alexander was wont to say, that there was not any fortress so great and well munified, but if an affe laden with gold might but approach it, would be expugnable. It cannot be denied, (said Tassone) but that money is very commodious, and in a certain manner, necessary, to live well, being impossible, or at least wise very difficult, to live in common society, without exchange, or permutation of things: considering that oftentimes one hath need of that, whereof another aboundeth, now in that there can be no just permutation, but by means of money (as the other day Cavalier Gualinguo declared) it being that which maketh all contracts just & equal, in this respect money is truly worthy to be esteemed, and placed in the number of riches: notwithstanding in itself considered, it is no true, nor sincere riches, as that which of itself, supplieth not the wants of nature, considering that one possessing it, may die for hunger, thirst, cold, or any other want, no less than he that hath it not, which is confirmed by the fable of Midas. And there upon it proceedeth, that the riches of money is of all other insatiable, yea & the more the heap thereof augmenteth, the more likewise increaseth desire, for money serveth nature to no use at all, as doth bread, wine, fruit, and all other riches, wherewith human life, is sustained, and ordained: the superfluity of which things causeth loathsomeness and satiety.  
Think you not (said signor Gualinguo) that money of itself, without other help, deserveth to be esteemed, being compounded of so noble a matter as is gold or silver? The which gold is so resplendent and beautiful, as therefore it was consecrated to the Sun: as also that being most secure and temperate from all corruption, it was in like manner dedicated to jupiter: whereupon, no marvel if any one beholding it, he remain surprised and taken. Although silver and gold (answered Tassone) of alother metals, be the fairest and most beautiful, yet are they least profitable: wherefore, having respect to that, which more benefiteth human life, we may make better account of iron, although of all other metal it be the grossest: seeing of iron, and with iron, the instruments of all trades are made, and iron maketh men valiant amidst the most cruel wild beasts: sinally, in the city, and within our own houses, it maketh us secure: which being known to wise Solon; he advised Croesus to change his abundance of gold (showed unto him by that foolish King, for ostentation) into iron, prognosticating, that if he presently did it not, his gold, kingdom, & self, would be a prey to Cyrus; who empty of gold, but laden with iron, and full of valour, came to assault him. I conclude therefore, that money in itself, is of small or no assistance at all, to human life; as that which by the Lawgivers was invented, to prove equality in bargains, & contracts: for a mason could make no exchange with a shoemaker, seeing the building of a house, is of far greater value, than a pair of shoes, if money were not, which balanceth the contract: And therefore money by the Grecians was called Numisma, as it were by the laws ordained: for Nomos signisieth law, and the Latins for the self-same cause, called it Nummus: and there is no doubt, but money cometh to be esteemed, through the opinion only of men, who as hitherto they have esteemed thereof, if for a little while, they should but begin to hold the same (as indeed it is) but base and vile, we should find it, no question, but an unprositable weight and burden. That invention of money (said signor Patritio) serveth for no other use, but for permutation of things, it appeareth by another reason: for having respect only to domestical society, within the limits of an house, where permutation is not requisite; it is altogether unprofitable. And how is permutation unnecessary, or at leastwife unprofitable in a house (replied, signor Hercules Varano?) Because between husband and wife (said Patritio) betwixt father and children, servants and masters, and brothers, while they remain together in one familte, that permutation is not requisite, whereunto money concurreth for equality of bargain and contract: and therefore money, within the limits of an house is altogether unprofitable, but only serveth abroad in civil company, & sometimes for contract, and exchange. Me thinks (said signor Scipion Gilioli, that general rule should have an exception: seeing in the house betwixt master and servant, there is permutation, and money taketh place; the servitor offering his labour and service, to his master, and the master due hire to such a servant in exchange: observe (said Patritio) that by a servant I intent not these, which go about every day, serving sometime this man, otherwhiles that for hire: For these sort of people, be rather similitudes, then true servants, as they that acknowledge not their master, for their head, neither fear by him to be punished, for the insolences, they daily commit in the house: wherefore they are altogether unworthy to be placed in the number of those, which make a domestical society: being for the most part, vagabonds, and cooseners, directing their actions, rather to some other end, than to serve their masters. But I mean that servant, the use of whom not only, but even of his goods and substance is in the masters power, which by us at this day is called a Slave: for such an one is a true servitor, and one of the principal instruments wherewith a master governs his house. This man, partly for fear of his master, as also through hope of liberty (the reward of good service) serveth his master most faithfully: and between this servant and his master, occurreth no permutation, wherein money is requisite. Now I conceive (said Gilioli) that your rulehath no exception, and that money is no riches, which passeth betwixt them of one famille, although it be necessary for maintenance of the house, as signor Conte hath very well explained, who in the argument of riches, hath given so good satisfaction, as peradventure little remaineth whereof we may doubt.  
The which likewise, being by all the rest confirmed, the discourse ended, and his Highness with the thrice excellent Duchess, even now landed at the village of Cosandoli, the Queen rose up, with all the rest of the company, and leaving the Barge, they followed the Court, which went to a lodging, prepared in a most sumptuous palace, not far distant from the banks of Poe, built sometimes with magnificent charge, by the anciennt Princes of Este. Here, after every one had taken a little repose in their particular partitions, being even now night, all went to the Chamber of the renowned Duchess, where with music and other pleasing sports, they passed the time while supper: which ended, and the tables taken up, they used divers forms of dancing, but being very late, all departed to their rest, expecting the morning light. The morning following, his highness, the excellent Duchess, and all the rest of the Court, having heard with devotion, ordinary divine service, they went root by foot to the rivers side, where each one entered into their barge, except the Secretaries, Counsellors, and other Magistrates, who invited by the Lady Countess of Sala, the Lady Tarquinia, and by the most illustrious Lord Don Caesare, accommodated themselves in the Buccyntore, imagining discourse would fall out upon some noble subject and argument: and amongst these, was signor Antonio Montecatini, of all Philosophers of our age, the most principal, signor Gainbattista Landerchi, the renowned of the Laws, signor Benedetto Racualdi, signor Achilli Fantini, signor Gian Maria Crispo, and signor Cati, men, not only in the profession of the laws most excellent, but in all other kinds of excellent and choice studies, learned and judicial. There were in like manner placed upon the side of the bark, divers companies of musicans (of which in his Court, there be many rate and excellent, to the end, that playing & singging together to sundry instruments, they might with their melody no less delight the sense of hearing, than did the dames with their beauty, content the eyes & sense of seeing. But after that with pleasure they had made some reasonable way, dinner time being at hand, by the Queen's order, the tables were covered in the hall, and on the one side, the dames, & those roabed: overagainst whom sat the Knights and men of order, the Queen herself being placed at the end of the table, in regal majesty under a canopy. Dinner ended, which throughout was accompanied with most melodious music, there was by provident officers, as on the water the custom is, brought forth cards, tables, & chess boards. But the Queen with a sign having imposed silence, spoke after this manner. As there be two conditions of men esteemed worthy of true honour, one of those, learned, and the other of them, that make profession of Arms, so is there many times disputation, to whither of these pre-eminence is due: Considering therefore with myself, that in this noble assembly, of one side, here be the flower of the learned of our age, and on the other part, Knights, that in military profession are most excellent: taking hold of this good opportunity, I determine that to day, for entertainment of our passage, by way of argument, it be discussed; which is most worthy of honour, the man learned, or the Soldier: and to the end, that in grappling together, there grow no confusion, I mind it shall be fought out by several champions, which may be done, they learned choosing out one for their part that may speak, as also the other, another: And because no controversy can be determined without a judge: I will, that both parts being heard, they shall stand to the sentence, of Madam Countess of Sala. This judicial order of the Queen, highly pleased the Lord Don Caesar, and all the rest of the Ladies: and they attended the Champions coming forth: for those learned, after a low muttering and consultation, they denounced signor Patritio for Champion: and of the Knight's part, the Lord Guilio Caesar Braneaccio, not only amongst all the rest, the oldest Soldier, and in knowledge of Arms most excellent, but further, a gentleman, very learned, eloquent, and with all manner of virtue adorned. This election once made, the Queen breaking silence, commanded Patritio, that he should first enter into the field, who smiling: Although (most renowned Queen said he) it is no small prejudice to the learned in this action to be assailants, but is as it were half a confirmation of precedence to arms: notwithstanding, seeing your Majesty so commandeth, I will not refuse to be the challenger: yet with this condition, that in this conflict, there be no other arms used, than those wherewith the learned accustom to subdue their adversaries: for if soldiers should but draw their sword, out of doubt syllogisms, inductions, cuthememes, examples, and the learneds Champion himself, would be ready to she the field. Then signor Guilio Caesar smiling: Although election of arms belongeth unto us as defendants, yet to the end our victory may be more glorious, we accept of combat with your own arms: so now signor Patritio, frame your tongue to this warlike assault; for as equity and reason standeth on our side, so hope I by my valour, courageously to sustain it. Patritio therefore having a while paused with himself, begun in this sort.   

The seventh days Discourse: Wherein is determined the Precedence of Arms and Letters.  
IT is a very deep and doubtful question (most famous Queen) which you have propounded to be disputed of this day, seeing that Arms and Letters are both of them so Noble professions, and so excellent, as that it is difficult to judge, to whether of them the Palm is due: Considering by arms we defend and amplify kingdoms, and by Letters we preserve and govern the same, so that the one of the other standeth in such need, that neither this without the other, can be justly extended, nor the other without the first, be securely maintained: Notwithstanding, seeing it so pleaseth your Highness, that the tediousness of our journey, be passed over with some ingenious and pleasant discourse, I will contend to manifest, as a valorous Champion of the learned, that the balance fitteth on our side: and in that the soldier and scholar cannot sit both on the same stool, the Soldier must give place to the scholar. Now to come to the knowledge of truth, which we seek after, I think it necessary, that to discoursing briefly, we first of any other thing entreat of those perfections, which of themselves are sufficient to bring a man to his true end, which is felicity, to the end, that seeing in what degree and perfection Letters stand, and in what art military we may draw out an infallible judgement, to whom the first degree of honour ought to be given, whether to the Soldier, or Scholar. I say therefore, that man for no other cause, of all other Creatures, is only capable of felicity, but in that beyond vegetative, and sensalive faculties, he is endued with understanding, by mean of which, working virtuously, he may come to chief good, and enjoy highest delight. In this human intellect, two most principal faculties are found, the one of which is called by the Philosophers, understanding speculative, whose object is truth, the other, practic understanding, which is conversant about that good in human operations consisting. By all reasons these two faculties are placed in human understanding, considering that of all things which this universal frame containeth, some be the works of the greatest god and Nature, other be human operations: In the works of God and Nature, truth is sought after, in human operations, good. By mean of these two faculties, man acquireth two sorts of perfections: one of which is called Habit speculative, the other, Habit practic. Habit speculative is no other but a knowledge of all those things, that comprehend the universal frame, the which, as they are of three sorts, so be there three several speculative habits: seeing that some are by their own proper essence, separate from sensible matter, as is the omnipotent and most excellent God, the Intelligences assisting the Celestial Spheres, and those, which of the metaphysics themselves, are called Transcendentes, as Ens, good, truth, the thing, & such like, the knowledge whereof, is deservedly called Wisdom: some again by their essence, are wholly drowned in sensible matter, and with motion conjoined, and these be the heavens, elements, & bodies mixed: the knowledge of these things, is called natural Philosophy. There be yet some other, which in effect can never be separate from sensible matter: notwithstanding naturally they are such, as by part imaginative, and with the mind, they may be considered, or imagined: without consideration or imagination of matter, and this is mathematical knowledge, divided into Geometry, which handleth continual quantity, that is, line, superficies, and body: and arithmetic, being conversant about discreet quantity, which is number: there be further some speculative habits comprehended under these three heads, by the Logicians termed, sciences subalternal, or half sciences: for in respect of the subject, whereabout they are conversant, they participate of natural knowledge, but considering the manner, by which they prove their conclusions, they are mathematical, as those, that embrace mathematical conclusions, for their beginning. Amongst these, is Astrology, considering bodies, and motions celestial, the like also natural knowledge doing, but in a diverse manner: than prospective, which entreateth of visible line, Steremetrie, being employed touching  bodies; & music, respecting number harmonical, with other such like: And these be all the sciences and habits, wherewith intellect speculative is adorned, in investigating, and finding out of truth. practic habit, is no other, but the knowledge of all those things, whereof man is the beginning: and they be divided into two heads, active, and doing, part active, is a firm understanding of those things, which appertain to the good government of himself, his house, and finally of the common weal. The doing or performing habit, is that knowledge, which is called art: this being divided into those mechanical, and liberal. But leaving apart mechanical art, as impertinent to a civil man, we will affirm, that amongst liberal arts, Grammar is numbered, rhetoric, Dialect, Poesy, Music, both of voice & instrument, painting, Architecture, and the art of Physic, and amidst all these, we will allot the principallest place to art Military, as of all other the most excellent, which by the Philosopher was placed in the number of arts, it having belonging unto it, all those conditions, which in an art are required, that is, material subject, end, and the instrument, which to the end conduceth, neither wanting there also firm beginnings and principles wherewith every day, great soldiers serve their turn: material subject is battle, victory the end, and arms the instrument: These are all the perfections (most famous Queen) which may bring a man to his end, being felicity: of which no doubt, those are the most excellent, and worthy of greatest honour, that more readily may make a man happy. If therefore I shall show, that learning and habits speculative, have greater part in felicity, than art Military, I believe the learned shall have won the day. If that be true, which all the piudent affirm, that of things created, the same exceedeth all others in perfection, which draweth nearest to divine bounty, and doth of it most participate: Out of question the man learned, in bounty and dignity will be superior to the soldier; in that he learned, is endued with that virtue, which maketh a man like to things divine. For science and sapience which be incident to the learned, by mean of contemplation, make a man companion with God, uniteth him with chief good, and true felicity: The Philosopher confirmeth the same in the tenth of his Ethics, where he sayeth, that those, who busy their minds in contemplation, addict themselves to the study of good letters, and are, than all others, by God better beloved; because they adorn that part of the mind, which hath greatest similitude with things divine: whereupon God kindleth the light of his divine grace in their souls, comforting them with highest joy, and true beatitude: As also otherwhere commending Metaphy sick, he saith, that though it be not profitable, yet notwithstanding it is worthy of supreme honour, as that which raiseth our understanding from earth to heaven, exalting it to the knowledge of high & divine things: and therefore he worthily affirmeth, that the wiseman gonerneth the stars: as he that far remote from a vulgar life, being of himself sufficient, liveth most happy. M. Tullius in first of his Tusculans saith, that Philosophy is a gift given by God, and that in this world there can be nothing more sweet or excellent: what thing is to be desired more excellent or worthier of a man, than sapience: this by administering the knowledge of all things diume and human, procureth the mind to be settled and replenished, with chief joy: if this be not a thing worthy of commendations, what is to be commended? And Architas Tarentine saith, that wisdom, amongst all other things human, is most excellent, and is as sight among the senses, understanding in the same soul, and as the Sun amongst the stars, sacred. Philo sophy procureth not the felieitie of one particular alone, but further, assisteth the happy living of an whole City, as divine Plato affirmeth in his Meneseno, saying: to the Philosopher, and no other, appertaineth the government of a City: and in the fift of the Commonwealth: Those Cities cannot be happy, where Philosophers do not govern, and the governors sufficiently know Philosophy: but he said not, where art Military, and excellent warriors govern: For the art of war hath not only no part in felicity, but rather is contrary unto it, considering that it destroyeth human generation, and is so much the more imperfecter than science, in that the end of art Military, may be prevented by fortune, as often times it falleth out, which in science taketh no place: and it is most certain, that where Fortune swayeth, understanding little prevaileth, and where understanding prevaileth not, there is a manifest sign of imperfection. Further I allege, that by how much the mind is more excellent than the body, by so much are the actions thereof more excellent than those of the body, which being true, even so must they learned needs be more excellent than Soldiers.  
Considering the actions of the learned have no need of any corporal virtue, and those of Soldiers are most principally exercised with bodily force; the philosopher proveth that our mind is divine, and immortal, in no other respect, but because it hath his operations distinct from the body: The learneds operations therefore, being from the body disjoined, they must needs have in them something divine, and be truly worthy to be placed amongst the things most honourable: the which notwithstanding by Soldiers cannot be affirmed: whose actions being wholly intermixed with the body, have in them that imperfection which the body bringeth to the mind, and all matter to his proper form. I could produce many other arguments, to show, that Arms ever ought to yield to Learning (as good Marcus Tullius affirmeth) and grant the Laurel garland to the tongue and eloquence of the learned, which notwithstanding for brevity sake I pass over; And only in our behalf, I will set down some examples, for manifestation, that good letters are of force, to exalt men up, even unto heaven, and to place them amongst the Gods. Lisanias' a Noble man of Arcadia, as Leontius the Greek declareth, being in Sciences most profound, went to Athens, and stirred up such admiration in those people then rude and barbarous, as that they made him not their King, but worshipped him as a god, and having dedicated unto him a Temple, was the first that was called jupiter, Apis, the son of Toroneus and Niobe: he passing from Argos to Egypt, by mean of the Sciences, he attained that reputation, as beside, being made king, he was held and worshipped for a god: And so great was the reverence towards him, as that by public Edict there was a capital punishment set down against whomsoever should be so hardy as to call him a mortal man. Belus, who as Paulus Orosius declareth, seigniorized in the uttermost confines of Egypt, for being an Inventer and teacher of celestial doctrine, was judged so worthy, as unto whom there should be built a Temple in Babylon, and it was called, the Temple of jupiter Belus. Hermes son to Phylo, a mean man of Arcadia and Proserpina his own daughter, to avoid the infamy of his incestuous original going into Egypt, and being in the sciences profound, but especially in Geometry, Arithmetic & Astrology, was held for a God, being called the son of heaven, and day, as he that descending from heaven, in the day light came to be noted and known. I (most illustrious lady) with these few & simple reasons, authorities, & examples, have endeavoured to confirm our cause: which of itself is so firm, and secure, as there is no need of Rhetorical art, for sustentation of it. I assure myself, signor Brancaccio in his own conscience well knows, that he defendeth an unjust quarrel: although like an honourable Knight, he entereth now the field, not to lose his honour. I can be well content, signor Patritio (said Brancaccio) that you may confirm the possession of honour: seeing that can not be lost, which hitherto is not possessed. It is now long since (answered Patritio) that reason stood to the arbitrement of Arms, against whose violence learned men could make no resistance: but now brought to the tribunal of justice, I hope the matter will otherwise succeed: and that at last the learned shall be established intheir proper place and dignity.  
Then the Queen: It is high time you use your arms, signor Brancaccio, for otherwise I perceive you in very eminent danger. The affection which your Highness deservedly beareth towards soldiers, (said Brancaccio) is rather an occasion of your fear, than any eminent danger: for if that be true, which the other day signor Gualinguo showed, that honour is the reward of virtuous actions, and sign of beneficence, the learned shall not only, not have precedence of the Soldier, but further in honour have little or no interest at all: Considering honour to science improperly: and to Art Military it properly belongeth, in that from Art Military those actions proceed, whereof honour is a reward, and from the learned there proceedeth no exterior action, whereby he may be judged worthy of honour. But behold another reason, signor Patritio, grounded upon the words of your own Philosopher, in the first of his ethics, where comparing public with private good, he said: that is to be beloved which is profitable to one alone, but much more divine & excellent is that which benefiteth nations, and cities; but this being truth, behold what a good Logician I am: Art Military is a perfection which doth not help one alone, but is a furtherance to Nations and Cities: whereas science profiteth none but the possessor of it: Therefore Art Military is more excellent and honourable than Science.  
That it is such an help and furtherance, it is a thing very manifest, in that by his Art, Nations and Cities are defended from ravenous and insolent enemies, liberty is preserved, and religion protected: this causeth observance of the Laws, without which the Common wealth would be, as a body without a soul. Wherefore it was wisely set down in the poem of Institutions, that imperial Majesty ought, not only to be garnished with Laws, but also with Arms to be adorned. Considering that (as the Civilians do affirm) right and equity smally prevail in a City, and if the sword procure not observance thereof.  
And Cicero in his Oration for Aulus Cluentius Albinus doth affirm, that warriors are the defenders and ministers of justice: And the Philosopher referreth one of the principallest parts of a common wealth, to Soldiers: As also Paulus Orosius writeth; the self-same being by the Philosopher in his politics confirmed, that the first Common wealth amongst the Grecians ordained, consisted of none other than warriors. In like manner great Lycurgus knowing, that to a common wealth there was not a more excellent or more profitable thing than this most noble Art, directed all his Laws which he gave unto the Spartaines, to the perfection and greatness of the Art Military: through which Laws, the Spartaines becoming most excellent warriors, they defended & maintained, not only their own liberty, but further, all Greece, from the innumerable army of Xerxes: that univetsall good is to be preferred, before the felicity of one alone, and Art Military before science: Marcus Tullius plainly showeth in the first of his Offices, saying in this manner: who is he so curious to understand the nature of things, that a danger hanging over the head of his country, will not suddenly leave contemplation, though he thought to measure the greatness of the world, or number all the stars, and run to secure? We may and ought therefore to conclude, that art Military as an universal good, aught to precede science, being but good particular, and consequently Soldiers, the learned: but above all others, before them, which are called Philosophers, and wise men, who not content with matters terreine, like the Giants, endeavour to ascend up into heaven, and make themselves equal with God, as also nourished in idleness, and knowing themselves unapt to action: attaining to Magistracy, or honours, swelling up themselves in pride, they retire from civil company into a solitary life: and after having been mewed up to their studies and Books, they become lean and macerate, and not able to determine in what manner the Sun heateth, wholly confounded, they waste themselves in melancholy humours. But leaving them apart, and coming to the excellency of Art Military, it is truly an heap of all those perfections, which make a man heroical in an eminent degree: and beginning from the virtue of fortitude, this is most proper to Art Military, and is no less from it inseparable, then light from the Sun.  
By this virtue Horatius Cocles was worthy of eternal praise, who alone upon the bridge opposed himself to the power of all Tuskane, for the safety of his country. And no less worthy of honour was Leonidas Spartan, who fight for his country, yea, & for the liberty of all the Greeks, with three hundred valiant soldiers, sustained at Thyrmopylis, for the space of three days, the force of Xerxes' army. Temperance, as the preserver of prudence, is necessary to the perfection of this art: In that he can hardly subdue his enemy, which hath not first an habit in conquering himself: The act of temperance towards the fair women of Daryus, was no less glory unto Alexander, then were the two victories obtained, by valour, and fortitude: by this virtue, Scipio Affricane, brought principal glory to himself, and benefit to his country, who in Spain, being a young man of four and twenty years of age, and without a wife, restored unto her husband, a most beautiful and noble young woman, returning unto him for her dowry, the money of her ransom: and by this most virtuous action he tamed the fierce courage of the Celtyberians, which peradventure by fortitude he had never subdued. Finally, the Romans, as we read, triumphed over the whole world, no less by being temperate, than valiant. The virtue of liberality is altogether necessary, in warlike Art: for by this the generous Captain, alluring the minds of his soldiers, maketh them prone to battle, and obtaining of victory. By this virtue, great Alexander, drew the Macedonian Phalanx into the uttermost parts of the East, through whose valour he triumphed over Asia. By this julius Caesar subdued, not only the barbarous nations, but also drew unto himself the minds of his own soldiers, to spoil themselves and their own country of liberty, to make him lord and monarch: and certainly liberty may be said to have been only proper to Caesar: magnificence also is no small ornament to this our Art, seeing the magnificent captain, by this, not only with his own men, but also amongst strangers, acquireth reputation & glory. Octavian ever coveting to exceed Mark Antony in those spectacles, the one and other presented to the people, as in all actions of magnificence, so in battles was he ever against the self same man victorious: and Alcibiades rather by this, than any other virtue, obtained honours in his own country, and abroad: magnanimity is no less an adjunct of military profession, then is whiteness of snow: for that warrior who hath not a lofty and magnanimous mind, shall never accomplish glorious enterprises: Caesar was of so great a mind, as passing by a little obscure village, he said unto a soldier that discommended the place; understand thou, O friend, that I would rather choose to be chief in this place, than second in Rome: and Alexander for this virtue, surnamed the great, was of so haughty a mind, as having understood by some, that there were divers worlds, sighing, greatly lamented, that being now seven and twenty years of age, he had not yet conquered nor gotten one. As vainglory and ambition, obscure the actions of this ar●e, so doth the virtue of modesty, cause it to be wonderful resplendent: the good African acquired no less glory in refusing with modesty, the superfluous honours offered unto him, by the Senate, and people of Rome, than he did in vanquishing and subduing the proud forces of the Carthaginians: As on the contrary, Alexander obscured his famous acts, by the vice of ambition, he accepting, by sycophants to be called the son of Inpiter Hammon, and finally, with all those honours, to be honoured, which rather agreed with the supernal gods, than any mortal man. Clemency also moderatrix of anger, is in a manner necessary to the managing of this art, in that anger is an obfuscation to the virtues of the mind, and impaireth bodily force, and vigour: wherefore an angry Captain forgetting his art, and stratagem, easily becometh a prey to his enemy: Caesar, as he was, and ever shall be the warrior of the world without peer, so of all others was he most courteous and gentle; neither can we find, that be fought at any time with his enemy being in fury: and by being much more ready to pardon, than revenge, he remained finally betrayed, and slain. Whereas on the contrary, Alexander by the vice of anger, obscured his great victories, for in fury he delivered Lysimachus to the Lion, pierced the breast of Clito with a lance, and put Calistheves to death. Affability, and courtesy, though to the severity of this art, they sceme little befitting and convenient: yet are they profitable, as the things that procure a Captain to be acceptable, and beloved of his soldiers, by this virtue Scipio African obtained great honour, and profit: for he was so affable and domestical amongst his soldiers, that although he had an exceeding great army, yet saluted he them all by their names. As virtue cannot be practised without justice, so also without justice cannot art military consist: by this the valorous Captain procureth himself to be beloved for hope of just reward, as also to be feared through expectation of deserved punishment: And not only moral virtues, but some liberal arts also seem necessary to the perfection of this art: and amongst others Rhetoric produceth most admirable effects, which the lesser Scipio manifested in Spain, who finding his army very licentious, & corrupted altogether with depraved customs, by a most eloquent oration, without any other means, reduced them to the Roman discipline: and julius Caesar by this art of speaking, confirmed his soldiers minds in France, astonished with the hugeness of the dutch men's bodies, and therefore he obtained a most glorious victory against proud Ariovistus: Finally the ancient Captains so esteemed, as also those of these days, hold the force of eloquence to be so great in art military, that seldom or never, they enter into battle; but first they confirm the minds of the Soldiers, by a Martial Oration, inflaming them unto battle. And being of most notable importance, and a singular precept of art military, to preserve an army healthful, I will also affirm, that to have knowledge in some things, which appertain to the art of Physic, cannot but be a special assistance: for it shall wonderfully import a skilful Captain, to understand the quality of the air, the goodness of waters, & wines, the properties of meats: as well in choosing out situation for his encamping, as for the nourishment of his army: & we may read, that Roman Captains contended no less in this, then in other martial practices. Architecture further is necessary to this art, especially that part, which appertaineth to fortification, for wanting this knowledge, a captain can neither defend, offend, nor expugn a city. In this point julius Caesar was so excellent, as that of himself he brought admiration to the world, through the towers, bridges, fortresses, and engines, whereof even yet to this day, there appear divers monuments, and representations. In my opinion (most illustrious lady) I have manifestly enough declared, that this our noble art, is a consent, & harmony, of all the worthiest perfections, and an heap of all the virtues: being an art truly worthy of those men, who for participating of divinity, and mortality, are termed Heroes: wherefore no marvel though Curtius, most valiant of any other Roman Knight, was by the Oracle of Apollo, approved worthy to fill up that huge gulf, in the market place of Rome, as the most excellent and precious thing which in that city could be found, neither can it be alleged, but that there were also at the same instant in Rome, men in learning most excellent, Pythagoras, & Numa having there planted their golden philosophy. I could further by infinite examples make demonstration, that military art, is of all other perfections, aptest to exalt a man, even to the highest degree of glory, but all volumes and writings being herewith replenished, I refer myself over to that which the historiographers affirm. Notwithstanding to open the eyes of the learned, I will affirm, that amongst the ancients, arms were ever in greater estimation, than letters, which may be conceived by the statues, & images, framed of their chiefest gods, and painted, not with books, or scrolls of paper in their hand, but with instruments of warlike art, they minding to manifest, that without arms, there could be no perfect deity: they gave therefore unto jove lightning, to Neptune and Pluto, a tridental mace, to Saturn, a sickle, or sith, to Apolle, a bow, arrows, and a dart, to Hercules, a club, to Pallas a shield, a lance, and helmet, to Diana, a bow, shafttes, and a dart, unto Cupid a bow, and fatal arrows. And further, the ancients esteemed this art of so great excellence, as that it could not continue without the protection of some particular deity. And therefore they esteemed Mars and Bellona, gods of war, adorning their Statues with warlike instruments, which instruments, they also thought worthy to be made by divine hand and workmanship, and therefore they believed Vuicane to be the God's armourer, which Plutarch showeth, saying, 
Vulcan at his hot work, doth sweat and blow,  
To make the piercing shaft for jove his bow.   
Finally, the holy scripture calleth the great God, the god of Armies, & not of the learned: so that signor Patritio, you may yield yourself vanquished, and not put your soul to compromise, for you well know, that you defend an unjust cause. Patritio laughed, & said: You signor Brancaccio show yourself ingrate, yea, and treacherous towards the learned, seeing the Arms, and art of speaking, from the learned obtained, you use against themselves. And I am out of all doubt, that if you were not as great a scholar, as a soldier, you could never in this conflict, have showed yourself so adventurous a Champion: and yet for all this, the victory shall not remain on your side, though you have lightly wounded me, for with more mortal blows I have pierced you. I understand you (said Brancaccio) you would infer, that your arguments remain yet firm and unshaken, whereunto I have not yet made any answer: and by commending Arms, that I have not a jot obscured the glory of Letters: Therefore from that I have alleged, it may be gathered, that your first foundation goeth to ground: for honour is not a reward of perfection, which procureth the felicity of him alone that possesseth it, but is a reward of beneficence, that helpeth others: and that it may appear, how your reasons conclude not against Soldiers, I will set down the difference, which your Philosopher maketh between praise and honour, touched the other day by Cavalier Gualinguo. Praise (saith he) is that speech, which noteth singularity of virtue, and is proper to habit, whereupon we usually commend Praxiteles and Phydias for the habit of sculpture which they had in excellency: but honour agreeth not properly to habits, but virtuous operations, For it is the true reward of excellent action, in that if one had virtue, and should be idle, he might rather be praised, then honoured. Now virtuous operations being in two kinds, some internal, as to contemplate, and others external, as to practise arms: it is a thing manifest, that honour cannot belong to internal operation, for internal action, being known to none but to him only that worketh, it cannot stir up any to honour it: It must needs therefore be the reward of external action, which being manifest, not only to the worker, but also to others, moveth, and urgeth the honourer, who knoweth it, to give honour thereunto: And therefore the Philosopher saith well, that honour rather consisteth in him honouring, then in him honoured, minding to make known, that to attain to honourable action, it is necessary that the action be known for virtuous by the honourer. The actions therefore of men learned, signor Patritio, as yourself have concluded, being actions intrinsical, and only of the mind, as by you learned only they are known and understood, so you by yourselves may inwardly honour them, but these not manifest to others, you shall rather be worthy of praise then honour: And on the contrary, the operations of us Martialists, grounding their internal beginning in the mind, and discovering themselves to the eyes and ears of others by mean of valour and virtue of our bodies, as well of praise, as likewise of highest honour, we are thought worthy: neither can fortune be an impediment of our glory, although sometimes she hinder victory: For art Military, as divers others also, having two ends, the proper end thereof is victory. And therefore Hannibal obscured not a whit his warlike honour, by the last battle he lost in Africa, he (according to Scipio's judgement) not having failed to perform all that, which belonged to a most expert warrior for the obtaining of victory: neither unto you signor Patritio, will it be any blemish, to have been subdued by me this day in combat: for though you have not persuaded, yet notwithstanding have you spoken in all excellency touching persuasion. signor Patritio further alleged, that art Military had no part in felicity, and much less in honour, seeing it is a consumer of human kind: and in this he is deceived, having been by us declared, that it is a good which universally assisteth nations, and cities, by procuring unto them observation of laws, and defending them from enemies: and therefore Marcus Tullius saith well: that of necessity war must be made, to live in peace. Your Philosopher also commendeth the making of war, undertaking it for defence of our country, & to procure safety to them, with whom we have war. This is conformable also to the holy scripture, where we read that God permitteth, yea and commandeth war, saying to the Hebrew people, Arm you, and confound these Philistines, enemies to the people of God: and in jeremy also we may observe, that God said, Prepare your shields and helmets, put on your breastplates, ride your horses, and take up your lances against your enemies, gathering yourselves all together to bartaile, and accursed be he who shall not shed blood against the enemies of the people of Israel. And in the Maccabees we read, that God ever moved and stirred up the people to battle against the enemies of Israel: And therefore David in the Psalms writeth, Blessed be the Lord, who instructeth our hands to battle. And in all the Books of the Kings, we find, that God commanded battle for the chastisement of rebels, overthrowing of tyrants, and for the occasion of peace in the world. Wherefore it would be both a lawful and commodious war, if christian princes did arm their people against the cruel sword of the East, and enemies of the elect and chosen people, endeavouring to abate the pride of so outrageous a tyrant, and by force of arms to reduce those nations to better life, & worship divine, then as they now live with all savage customs. And although it cannot be done without effusion of human blood, and some act of injustice, notwithstanding, of it no reckoning were to be made, seeing without fire and sword, such a Physician could not heal the like impostume. And not to pass over any thing whereof our adversary boasteth, I say, that Lysanias, Belus, Hermes, Apis, and other such, were deified, not so much for the knowledge wherewith they were adorned, as through the action of beneficence. For as these operations may by every one be comprehended and conceived, so internal actions, especially to luskish and stupid people, being concealed and hidden, they cannot be honoured. And this is a thing so manifest, as it booteth not herein to make any other or further replication. signor Brancaccio having thus argued, it seemed to the Queen and all the standers by, that the victory remained on the Knight's part: when signor Renato Cati standing up on his feet: Be it lawful for me (said he) most famous Queen, to defend our cause, seeing signor Patritio (rather a partialist, then faithful Champion of all the learned, contemning the prevalent arms of Civilians, hath only drawn out against him the weak tempered sword of contemplative Philosophy, & yet he infallibly knoweth, that these sort of learned, though worthy of praise and commendations, yet nevertheless are they poor, naked, and contemptible. This indeed we see every day (said Patritio) for no other cause, but because the foolish multitude is intentive on base gain, and discerneth not the virtue and demerit of honour. It is proper to the Civilians, (thrice excellent Queen (said Brancaccio smiling) to confound the laws, wherefore no marvel though signor Cati, a most famous Civilian, hath broken the Law of combat by Champion, & suddenly as a warrior fresh in breath, cometh to assail, judging that I am already weary, and sore wounded: but he is deceived, for I want neither voice, tongue, nor words, to answer, not only two, four, or six, but even to the whole routed and troop of learned, and if they have any thing to say to me.  
It is proper to Civilians (said Cati) to reform the laws, reducing extreme severity to terms of equity, for uttermost rigour and severity, is no other but extreme injury: and it might worthily be thought an injury, if we without audience or any attention, should lose our action for an other man's defect: Be it therefore lawful for me to defend the right and prerogative of Civilians, and to give the attendant to understand, that by great odds we ought to have precedence of Soldiers. And because Signior Brancaccio groundeth his intention upon the definition of Honour, which is the reward of beneficence, not swerving one jot from it, but to overthrow this argument with his own arms, I mean thus to argue: whether is of greater moment to human kind, Arms, or Letters: It is manifest, that Laws by the great God were produced together with the world: an infallible Law moveth and governeth the heavens: And firm and just law, tempereth the violent contradiction of elements, seeing whatsoever in one part, the one usurpeth of an other, in some other respect at the same instant it restoreth and recompenseth: To the inviolable law of Nature, plants give place, and creatures obey. Finally, laws descended from Heaven, rule this inhuman globe. Arms not from heaven (although the Poet's fabling, and Painters feigning adorn therewith the Images of the gods) but from the profound centre of the deeps, by some most malignant spirit brought to light, so far off are they from helping and benefiting the world, that rather they waste and tear the Image of God, consume the works of nature, and overthrow human inventions. He that should take arms out of the world, so should he remove injuries and oppressions. For not remaining any one, who by force would usurp upon another, all things, by the whole some administration of laws should be governed in peace: And therefore good Agesilaus was wont to say, that if all were just, there would be no need of Arms, nor of valour.  
He that should remove Laws out of the world, not only cities would remain as a body without a soul, but all things being left to arbitrement, of violent arms, and being none who might prescribe just and upright wars, with the manner how with justice to put them in execution, every thing would go hand over head, and injuries should never have end, and this would be nothing else but to remove out of the world that felicity which mortal men in this life may enjoy. Here peradventure signor Guilio Caesare will allege, that without arms, the world should want a great ornament: and that arms (as experience teacheth) are much more apt to make men great and glorious, than any kind of learning: as also, that statues, crowns, triumphs, and all supreme honours, are appropriate to vanquishing warriors, and not to Civilians or Lawyers, and he will further urge, confirming the same before he spoke, that arms justly undertaken, are no other but good. But I against all this will aver, that arms are greater trouble, than ornament to the world, they being the beginning of usurping other men's goods, and bringing free cities into into llerable servitude, forcing many times wise men, to obey the folly of flagitious and cruel tyrants: I affirm that unjustly, and through abuse, they erect statues, give crowns, and triumphs to conquering Soldiers: For what greater abuse or thing more inhuman can there be, than to seek greatness and glory, from slaughters, devastations, incests, sacrileges, rapines: and finally, to triumph in human miseries? I say further, that there can no just war be extended, but that which in defence of our country is made: and all other war, (with the Philosophers leave be it spoken) is contrary to laws of Nature: which, as it permitteth that others may defend themselves, and recover their own, so suffereth it not, that for desire of reigning, one should usurp that whereof another is lawfully possessor: nature not minding, that one should perform to another, what he would not have done to himself: but further supposing, that one might move war against another, how great be the iniquities, that ensue of that injustice? the innocent people, whom it concerneth not to examine, whither the war be just, or unjust, who are enforced to obey their Princes, under pain of disloyalty, and rebellion, and the greater part of them having never taken sword, or weapon in hand against enemies, are taken prisoners, hewn in pieces, slain, there houses rob, wives violated, and finally, Towns, Castles, and Cities put to fire and sword, so that what nature, art, and human wisdom, in many years have compassed, by force of arms, in very short space conmeth to be defaced. signor Giulio Caesar affirmeth, that virtue little prevaileth in a city, if there be not those, that may procure the observance thereof: and that vain is council in the Senate, if there be none to put it in execution: as also that armed Knights, be the ministers of justice: and in all this, as he saith well, so unawares, he secretly confirmeth precedence of honour, to the Civilians, if peradventure he do not mind to hold a paradox: that they who execute, are more worthy of honour, than those that command. Wise Civillians, first judge, whether the war be just, or unjust, neither moveth the Captain, or the army without his decree, and commission, command him: and therefore the divine Philosopher sairh, that the science, which debateth of war, should sway and rule over the other, which executes it, minding to infer, that the Civillians should, not only have precedence, but further, even command soldiers: And the Philosopher himself was of the same opinion, subjecting art military, to imperial art, and civil science. Our adversary seeketh to prevail by an opinion confirmed of the Philosopher, that the universal must be preferred before the particular: which being true, arms out of doubt, will give place to the laws; for the laws without any detriment, bring universal benefit to the whole world. and arms, though they help, so is it but only one people, and one Prince alone, whom they further: and yet cannot they effect this, without prejudicing of many. I would feign find out a Prince, who by his soldiers help, had ever performed such a benefit to the world, as did the Emperor justinian by the Lawyer's assistance, in ordaining of laws: this question esse, was an universal benefit, whereof the whole world might have use, through infinite ages: but if honour be measured from beneficence, so much more worthy of honour was justinian then Caesar, by how much he without detriment, did good unto all: And Caesar by winning four and fifty battles, benefiting only the people of Rome, and rather his ownr self, caused the death of many hundred thousands of men, and defaced an infinite number of Cities and Castles. signor Brancaccio further in favour of Soldiers allegeth, the authority of Lycurgus the divine Philoso pher who placeth warriors amongst the principallest members in his common wealth. Touching Lycurgus, I refer myself over to that which the Philosopher affirmeth in his politics, seeing he by most effectual reasons showeth that the laws of Lycurgus, & commonwealth of the Spartans, is in the number, of dishonest, & evil ordained commonwealths: As for Plato, he in his second, and fourth books of his commonwealth, setting down the duty of Soldiers, speaketh thus: We have placed in the City, Soldiers as dogs, who to the principal Citizens are to obey, as to Pastors of cities: and there is no doubt, but by principal Citizens, those are intended, who administer equity, and justice, as the Lawyers do, and to noble and geneious dogs, this divine Writer resembleth the soldiers, saying, that like good dogs, they should be vigilant to observe the enemies, ready to prosecute and follow them, and having overtaken, valiant to set upon them. Out of this place of Plato, may be gathered conformable to my opinion, that all other war is unjust, but that which in defence of our country is undertaken: seeing he ordaineth soldiers for no other end, but to guard the city, and he that of them maketh other employment, abuseth them: and our mortal enemy Cato, animating unto the virtue of fortirude, saith: fight in defence of thy country: and not to acquire another man's dominion and empire. As therefore it cannot be denied (most famous Lady) but that arms are for behalf of the laws, and unto them subject, so must we conclude, that soldiers are far inferior to professors of the laws, considering that in a city, the one be as pleaders, & Rhethoritians, the other as porters, and guardians: and this unto me seemeth so manifest a thing, as that it cannot be contradicted. But because I perceive by the gestures & motions of his person, that our obstinate adversary, long since, impatient of attention, is most defirous to speak, I will here pause, assuring myself, that he, considering he wanteth neither voice, tongue, nor words, will never give place to manifest reason: but confident in his eloquence, he will attempt to retort, the upright and sincere judgement, of our most gracious Queen. Eloquence prevaileth greatly in lawyers (said Brancaccio) and so far, that many times it hazardeth the good conscience of a sincere & equal judge: whereof I doubting, to the end that the entire & impartial judgement, of our illustrious moderatrix, may remain unspotted, and immaculate; I will make it known, that signor Cati, hath done like that incircumspect Greek, who to terrify the Troyans', putting off his own, armed himself with the arms of fierce Achilles. Notwithstanding, before I lay open his sophistications, it is necessary, that somewhat more amply difcoursing, of that which to a warrior appertaineth, I play the Philosopher searcheth out the secrets of Nature, and infallible providence of God: it cannot be denied most famous Lady, but that Nature is unto man a scepmother, and to the other creatures a most kind and tender mother, for she hath not only made them strong of body, but with natural garments so covered, and natural arms so fortified them, wherewith most fierce, they proudly go forward, without fearing offence: and such creatures as she hath produced them, weak and unarmed, so hath she provided them swift feet, or light feathers and wings, to the end, that flying or running away, they might withdraw themselves from danger. Man should have been naked, unarmed, and of all other creatures weakest, and exposed to all kind of injury, if by fingular grace of the heavens there had not been granted unto him, the excellent gift of the mind, and light of reason: the which, what Nature hath denied him, it doth doubly suppeditate. This at one instant adorned him with arms, and armed him with laws, to the end, that by arms, he might securely walk amongst the most cruel beasts, and by laws lead a perfect & civil life. It is therefore to affirm, that laws descend from heaven: and arms were drawnefrom the deep, for both the one and the other were works of reason and equity; and consequently, were both celestial inventions. And as it is true, that laws without arms cannot consist, so is that false which the adversary affirmeth, that to take arms out of the world, were a bringing in of that felicity, which most of all in this mortal life is desired: for without arms, the laws would not only be vain and frivolous, but a man, botne to rule over Creatures, being weak and unarmed, should be a prey to more terrible beasts; neither should they against them have any greater defence, then have the little Pigmeans against the Cranes. But admit we grant without prejudice to truth, that Laws are more noble than Arms, yet for all this cannot signor Cati conclude, that the Civilians Doctrine is of greater esteem than Art Military, nor that Generals of Armies are to give place to Doctors of the Laws. For if such a prerogative should be granted, it must not concur with the Civilians or Lawyers, but with the Law givers, considering that those who establish Laws, be great Princes, or commonwealths most prudent men, or for some heroical virtue most excellent as were Draco and Solon, who gave Laws to the Athenians, and Lycurgus the Lacedæmonians Lawgiver, Numa Pompylius that prescribed laws to the Romans'. Faleus to the Carthaginians, Mercurius Tresmygistus to the Egyptians, Zoroastres to the Persians, and Bactrians, Minos to the Cretans, Charondas to those of tire, Zalmosi to the Tartarians, Hippodamus to the Milesians, Plato to the Sicilians, and other such like: But to dilate a little touching that doctrine, whereof the Civilians do so insult, as signor Patritio numbering up the Sciences, and Arts liberal, hath not placed it in his Catalogue, so think I it a thing very difficult, to find any place for it amongst habits speculative & active. Among the Sciences it cannot be recounted. For Science being nothing else, but to understand the thing by his proper and infallible cause.  
The Civilian demanded of that he knoweth, can allege no other cause, but that the Laws say so, or Doctors thus affirm: It cannot also properly be termed an Art, except after the same manner as Petrarch calleth it, that is, an Art of selling words and lies: For though she be conversant about the Laws, as the proper argument of her doctrine, yet can she not alter nor transform them into divers forms, as other Arts do their matter and subject: For Laws by the Civilians cannot be transinuted, but by great Princes and Lawgivers: which the Lawyers observing, and not knowing with what other title to honour this their science, have termed it knowledge of equity, or juris prudentia, which signifieth no other, but that wise doom which is conversant in administering equity and justice, according as the laws command. Nay but I will further affirm, that this their faculty cannot likewise be aumbred amongst the moral virtues: For the Philosopher discussing of that particular virtue called justice, saith, that it is conversant about justice distributrue and commutative, that is, in placing reward and punishments, and reducing contracts and permutations to equality. And this virtue being well considered in her foundation, is not proper to Lawyers, but unto lawgivers: For the Lawyer or Cruilian is about three things conversant: To interpret the written laws, To answer according to Law, And to judge answerable to the Laws, or according unto those customs, which by inveteration are of like force and vigour as the Laws. Out of this we may draw a conclusion conformable to the Philosopher, that the written Law, is a silent Law: And the Lawyer is no other, but the lively or speaking Law: and so consequently, that the virtue of justice dependeth not on him, but on the Lawgiver and Law.  
The Philosopher affirmeth, that there be three conditions or qualities of men: some distrusting authority, yield only to reason: Others not Very capable of reason, easily rest satisfied in authority: And a third sort, who incapable of reason, do likewise contemn the authority of the wise; and as these last, of all other be the worst, and the second give proof but of a dull conceit, so the first note a most eminent and pregnant wit, and such are the Philosophers speculative, who seek after truth, and not authority. And the Captains in war be those, who despising other men's authority, are governed only by reason; among the second sort, lawyers are recounted, whose doctrine is wholly grounded upon authority, & therefore they were wont to say, that one is not worthy to be heard, that speaketh without authority; and out of this a maxim may be gathered, that Lawyers of themselves know nothing, but that their knowledge dependeth upon other men's opinions, so that many times when they would answer, or determine, without having any eye to the force of reason, where there is no written Law, they fall a reciting their opinions, who have scribbled a number of Book cases, and for the most part, tie themselves thereunto, as to a most certain and infallible rule. And the confusion of these Doctourshippes is so great, who have written rather for gain and ostentation, then through any zeal of justice, as that often amongst themselves, they plead not what is most reasonable and just, but what is most usual and common: a thing surely worthy of division, and also compassion, as though the opinion of ten ignorant were more to be esteemed, than the sentence of four wise men: whether these sort of learned (most renowned Lady) should precede warriors, who with notified valour adorn their countries, with a thousand Troops, administer argument to writets, to immortalize themselves, and consecrate unto memory martial proceed, and magnanimous attempts, it is easy to judge. By that which hath been spoken, it is clearly manifest, that signor Cati setteth forth laws with the person of the Lawgivers, unto whom they bring princes and men heroical, it shall not be greatly inconvenient, that armed men give place, seeing these determine and command the wars, as also determine the place of Generals in an army, and not Civilians, as he constantly affirmeth, except peradventure he mean, that it is all one to command over Soldiers, as over executions, or the minister of justice, this being a proper office of civilians. This truth may be conceived by the description the philosopher maketh of his excellent & well ordained commonwealth, wherein he divideth the Citizens into four orders, that is, Warriors, Senators, judges, & priests, and describing their offices, he calleth not the soldiers by this brutish terrne of dogs, but maintainers, defenders, and ministers of just wars: and to the Senator, he allotieth administration and government of things public: And these men it concerneth to determine of war or peace, & to these soldiers give place, for in such a degree they are to be reputed as Lords & princes. And to judges, who are no other than civilians or lawyers, belongeth the office of determining and deciding controversy. The priests who are the ancientest, reduced as it were to their last & most perfect end, he assigneth the care of things holy. And we must observe, that although to frame a city of itself sufficient, there be many conditions of men required, notwithstanding, to fashion a commonwealth, the philosopher's mind is, that these four orders should suffice: and he altogether excludes those mechanical degrees, which practise sordid, & base professions, as those, who of virtue are incapable, the rather being instruments, than part of a city. If therefore authority grounded on effectual reason, be worthy of credit, it cannot be true, that civilians in a city, are as Rhethoritians, neither that their office is to command over Warriors, although their authority stretcheth to command over sergeants and executioners: for they sit to judge and determine controversies, & not to govern public affairs: yet is this no impediment, but that a Lawyer may have place in the Senate, & be in the number of Rhethoritians, when he shall not only understand that which Ulpian teacheth, but shall further possess a part of those singular virtues, wherewith signor Cati is adorned, and all these most excellent Civilians, out of doubt most worthy councillors, of our thrice illustrious Prince. Seeing unto these the name of Lawgivers, rather agreeth, than civilians or Lawyers: signor Cati further inferreth, that of laws, & lawyers the benefit is much more universal, then that of arms, and soldiers: seeing Laws assist the whole world, and arms benefit but one city, or a Prince alone: and that the benefit of the laws, is ever without other detriment: but arms cannot pleasure without others offence: we have sufficiently declared, that arms universally are beneficial, if they be moved & undertaken with justice, & that God himself, by his own mouth commandeth wars: as also that just victory is no less profitable to the vanquished than victors: For they vanquished, are by it reduced to a better life, for if arms were wicked, because of offending others, the like should the laws be, which cannot be executed without blood: The laws command that menquellers be slain, quarrelers, and wonders, to be recompensed with the like measure, that thieves, adulterers, sacrilegious, and finally all malefactors, be bitterly punished: notwithstanding, because this is done through zeal of justice, and that the good may enjoy peace, those laws are good, as also the Lawyers, if with justice they execute them: but if they be unjust, they do more hurt then wicked soldiers, for soldiers preserve their friends, and by all evil means offend their enemies, whereas covetous and avaricious Lawyers, by giving hope of safety to their friends, have no other drift or intention, but to gnaw them even to the bones. And to speak truth, of all sorts of men, the unjust Lawyer is most pernicious. I could allege (most illustrons Lady) many other reasons, to manifest, that Lawyers, though they be worthy of honour, yet are they not therefore to be preferred before soldiers: but because I see my ship now approaching near her port, passing over to custom & common use, I affirm thus much, that Dukes, Kings, and Emperors themselves, are called Knights, but never Doctor's: and armed in justs, Attorneys, and also in the midst of the field, in Battle they show themselves amongst warriors, but in assemblies and Courts of Civilians, Lawyers, or other learned, they never present themselves for disputation sake: and this for no other cause, but in that the exercise of arms is proper to great and mighty men, and more honourable than that of Letters. Do we not further see, that in solemnities and ceremonies, where precedence is specially regarded, that great Captains and men of war, go nearer the person of the king or Emperor, than Secretaries, Chancellors, or Councillors, although they be great Doctors, and marvelous learned men: this being a manifest sign, that of the same Kings or Emperors, Arms are far more highly esteemed then Letters, and Soldiers than Doctors. But if nothing else sufficed, the judgement of women ever infallible, might serve for certain proof, that warriors are more to be esteemed then Doctors, we seeing that the greater part of women are rather carried away with the love of knights, than men learned, neither can the joy be imagined, which they feel in their hearts, when they see their lovers appear in justs or Attorneys, armed with their emblems and fanours by them given: and for their sakes to arm themselves, break lances, and run their gallant steeds and Coursers. So that grieve it you not, signor Cati, to rest content in common sentence & approbation, and to leave unto us warriors the highest degree of honour, seeing we have both obtained and preserved it, not with writings or vain words, but with true valour, labour, and blood, putting yourself in mind of Milciades answer, who deruaunded which was worthiest of greater estimation, Homer the great learned man, or Achilles the noble warrior, so much more, said he, is Achilles to be valued above Homer, as is the Conqueror more than he, who with sound of trumpet publisheth his victory. Here signor Giulio Caesare stayed: and signor Cati minding to reply (whom prevalent reasons failed not for defence of Lawyers, the Queen with her finger imposed silence, and commanded the noble Lady Countess, that she should pronounce her sentence, who after a little meditation, censured in this manner; We having heard, and well considered the reasons both of one and other party, do determine that Civil honour, which is the reward of excellent and heroical actions, ought more specially to be yielded to men of martial profession, and that veneration, proper to things divine, befitteth the wise and learned: but reforming better this our definitive sentence, let us enact, that watriours be esteemed honourable, and doctors reverend. This deep judicial sentence of the Lady countess, was by all the standers by, admired. And with this, issuing out of the Barge, and mounted in sumptuous Coaches, the Ladies and Knights having accompanied the Duke and Lady Duchess to the Palace, they all departed to their several houses.  
FINIS.