If I were not DIOGENES I would wish myself ALEXANDER    

STAFFORD'S Heavenly Dog: OR The life, and death of that great Cynic DIOGENES, whom Laertius styles Canem Coelestem, the Heavenly Dog, By reason of the Heavenly precepts he gave. Taken out of the best Authors, and written to delight great hearts, and to raise as high as Heaven the minds that now grovel on the earth, by teaching them how to overcome all affections, and afflictions.  
LONDON, Printed by George Purslowe, for john Budge, and are to be sold at the great South-door of Paul's: and at Britain's Burse. 1615.   

TO THE Honourable, my allworthy, and no less dear friend, Sir JOHN WENTWORTH Knight, Baronet.  
APplause attended mine eye, noble Friend, when I first read in a pleasing writer, Amicos primum esse deligendos, deinde diligendos, that friends are first to be chosen, then to be loved. Notwithstanding my applause, with me it fell out otherwise when I first saw you, who passed through mine eye into my heart, where you shall ever sit. Yet was not my affection so sottish, but that (disdaining to have Foolish for an Epithet,) it went to my judgement for approbation, which in a short space satisfied it to the full of your complete Worth. And (as I remember) the foundation on which my judgement encouraged my affection to build, was, the love I discerned in you to those better studies, & to Scholars, the best of men. I saw that as GOD had given you an ability of mind; so you (not unthankful) sought to polish that excellent part. Neither did you think it enough to beautify your Soul, but withal took a course to conform it to Reason, and to fortify it against the forces of false Fortune. To that purpose you made choice of Seneca, and other authors that might furnish you as well with the Helmet, as with the Feather. Of the same nature, and, I dare say, of the same height is this Book, and therefore will deserve your reading. It treateth of a strange, inimitable man, who had nothing, yet never knew adversity. His happiness was ever the same, and he ever himself. The cruel effects of Fortune's malice could never make him change his mind, nor his countenance. And so he lived, as if she had stood at his award, and not he at hers. To you I dedicate this dear Dog, together with my heart. That, which made me set your Name before it, was my ambition, the maw of which will be full, when I shall have the honour to be reputed your friend, which (upon occasion) I will prove myself to be, with the hazard of my life. In death I will profess my love to Sir JOHN WENTWORTH, and till then rest  
His fixed friend, and servant Antony Stafford.   

TO THE MODEST READER.  
THe wisest of Kings, and men, says, that of writing Books there is no end. True, says a late, but witty comment, there is no end of writing Books which are written to no end. The exposition seems good, and agreeable to the meaning of Solomon, (who in my opinion, which I write, not maintain) in all probability meaneth such Books when he says, that much reading is awearinesse to the flesh: for certainly there are authors, of which a man can never read so much but he will still desire more, according to that of Lipsius upon Epictetus, Pluris facio cum relego, semper ut novum, & cum repetivi repetendum. Amongst those Books which never can be read enough (next to the sacred) the moral take place, which are written to an end as noble as are their effects admirable. These are they which make us men indeed, without which (as saith singular Seneca) men would be but maiusculi pueri. O my Reader! let us never abandon morality, unless we mean to banish all civility, and give ourselves over to sensuality. Neither let us scorn these things, because the Heathen writ them; for set the three supernatural works aside, taught us in our Creed, Creation, Redemption, and Sanctification; and tell me, good Reader, in what we excel them. In what go we beyond them? nay, in what come we not short of them? Are we not content with their knowledge? do we not see the whole life of a modern scholar spent only to expound one of them? God grant that we (who have received from them all their natural helps, and in a higher degree have been divinely taught from above by Truth, and Life itself all truth, and goodness) be not found unthankful for those human gifts. If we proudly (under the pretence of learning divinity) despise the studies of humanity, we shall do like him that greedily plucking a fruit, throws away the leaves that both adorned, and defended it. Let us then admire, Reader, let us then reverence the Ancients, from whose Ocean of knowledge have flowed these Riverets of ours. And amongst all let us not bestow more wonder upon any, then upon the Heavenly Dog this Book treats of; whom, if I cannot style the most learned, certainly I may call the happiest of the Heathen. His carriage was so strange and austere, and his life so void of perturbation, that I wonder the superstitious people of his time did not adore him as a God, or (at least) as a Semo. A Tub confined his body, but his mind the bounds of the World could not limit. I know not thy degree of admiration, Reader, but I vow, that if Diogenes were now at Corinth with joy to Corinth I would high me, and kiss his feet. I had rather go thither to see him that hath the mind, than a furlong to see him that hath only the fortune of a King. If this treatise give not a perfect model of his worth, I crave no pardon, Reader; since I think any bastard, languishing language unable to express his excellencies. As for his Oration to Alexander, I think thou wilt think it not his own. They had many interviews, and therefore, no doubt, much conference; at all which having guessed, some part thereof I may have bit. I confess, Diogenes made it not, yet many things in it are his own, and Possibility says they might have been spoken to Alexander. Suppose the Oration were mine own, I should in this imitate no worse a man then divine Plato, who in most of his writings makes Socrates speak for him; or Epictetus, who speaks more than a little in the person of this old Cynic. Some things I have borrowed of other Philosophers, which if thou happenest to discover, carp not at it, but thank my judgement, that for thee did select them. Think not the Spider (which produceth a cobweb out of her own body) better than the Bee which gathereth her honey abroad. Yet I acknowledge myself to be of his mind, who held that a man should have something à se, as well as in se, and therefore have not so much tired my wit with translation, as I have refreshed it with contemplation. Whatsoever is borrowed, or mine own, I here make thine; for which my hope expectes thanks. Though thou deny to stroke, I trust thou wilt not strike my Dog, which never yet bit honest man. Thou canst not deal so ungently with him; for I know that either his head, his body, or his tail will please thee, if modest thou art, and not preiudicious. I know there are Colts who will venture to row in waters wherein (to use the seafaring phrase) they cannot live, that is; they will censure things they cannot see into; not unlike to that Germane clown, who undertook to be very ready in the ten commandments, and being asked by the Minister which was the first commandment, answered; Thou shalt not eat. These I would wish to read Ballads, & books balladical, works not befitting a wit that dwells with the Seraphins and Cherubins. Notwithstanding their sinister opinions, I affirm that he, who cannot pick something out of this book worthy the reading, is unworthy to read it. To thee, modest Reader, I present my book, offer my service, and promise the fruits of my future studies.  
Farewell.   

STAFFORDS Heavenly DOG: Or the life and death of that great Cynic Diogenes, who by Laertius is styled Canis coelestis, the Heavenly Dog, and iovis filius, the son of jupiter.  
He that was before the beginning, made nothing since the beginning, which he thought worthy to participate of reason but man. 
The happy estate man was created in.  God let all other creatures see their being; to man he gave to know his being, that is, how he came to be, and to what end he was made. He suffered the beasts to see the things themselves; to man he granted to know the causes of them, both how, and why they were. The wandering ambitious spirit of man, not content with this free gift of his maker, sought yet to know more, and by that means came to know less. 
Man's Fall.  No sooner did he disobey God, but a sinful mist so dimmed the eyes of his intellect, that of little he could judge aright. What he did then know, was but as a dream of what he knew before. Whereas he might have bequeathed to his Successors Freedom and Innocency, he left Obscurity to their understandings, and Slavery to their wills. So that man (who was form a sacred, stable, innocent, perfect creature) is now justly styled, The dream of a shadow, the son of Calamity, the example of Imbecility, the spoil of Time, the sport of fortune, the image of Change. In a word, A little filth digested into form.  

God repairs the ruins of man's mind two sundry ways.  All that miserable man now knows, is, that he knows nothing. And undoubtedly, his knowledge would not far surmount that of beasts, did not he that is mercy, and bounty itself, deal mercifully and bountifully with him two sundry ways. 
The first way.  First, when by the omnipotent, and absolute power of his Godhead, he imparteth knowledge of things unto his creatures freely, without much study and labour of the party so endued. So was Solomon taught by God the knowledge of all things in the world. The Apostles likewise were taught sundry languages from above without any study at all; and unto Saint john in particular, the knowledge of things to come was revealed from God by his Angel.  
These kinds of gifts, & these sorts of knowledge, as they be most divine, and certain, immediately proceeding by influence from God above: so be they not common, every where, in all places, or in all persons to be found.  

The second way.  The second way, God hath showed us to repair the aforesaid ruins of the mind, is more usual, every day practised, and necessarily followed; to wit, the study of Philosophy, to which the Arts give entrance; the only ordinary mean which God hath left unto us from time to time, in all ages, in all nations, to restore memory, to enlighten understanding, and direct will for the finding out of solitary Truth, who goes still alone, and the refuting of Error, the dam of all diseased opinions. The excellency of the former science, which comes by inspiration, though the treatise of it be more noble, and the contemplation of it more pleasing then of the latter, I will not here handle, it being, perhaps, a ground too hard for a deeper Divine than myself to plow up. Of the latter then only I will treat, and yet not of all that (what wit can compass it all?) but of that part only, the necessary use whereof shall most commend it. That is, ac- tus? No. Socrates? No. Seneca? No. Though these be men somewhat above men, greater than the greatness of their fame, whose meanest actions exclude all exceptions, yet I will not make them my guides in the Moral path I am to tread.  
The Names of these men sufficiently commend them, their deeds praise them above the power of my words. ay, who in all things am a vowed adversary of the opinionated Vulgars', will pick me out a Tutor, whom the giddy headed Rout never nameth but in derision, yet deserves to be had in great estimation. Who may this be? Diogenes the Cynic. A man, 
Diogenes praised.  who certainly never saw his equal for greatness and constancy of mind, and yet with the common sort is in so vile repute, that every scurvy, sordid fellow they nickname with Diogenes, and bring him up in their bald, witless Proverbs. And (which is a thing remarkable) he that loathes their saucy, senseless conversation, & stands amongst them, as judgement, the Ariadne in the labyrinth of life. The Proverb goes, that he, who would find Piety, must seek her far enough from the Court; & I dare depose, that he who would trace out Verity, must run far remote from the gross-headed Multitude. This course took Diogenes, who though he affected Populum, the people, yet he hated Plebem; the plebeians, and wished for a gulf between him and them. It is a thing memorable of him, that standing on a day in the market place, and crying with a loud voice, Heus homines: He, men, many of the ignorant fry came about him, whom he beat away with his staff, and said, Homines, non purgamenta vocau●: I called men, and not cleansings.  
Coming out of a bath, one asked him, whether many men were within: he said no; but being questioned if a great throng were there, he said, yes. Being demanded, why the charity of the people extended itself to the lame and the blind, and not to Philosophers: Because well as an issue-male at the hands of jupiter.  
Thus he taught, thus he derided, 
The love of Diogenes to the wise.  thus he scorned the rude ones. On the contrary, the polished, and learned spirits he had in as much admiration, as the former in detestation. Laertius writes, that when he came to Athens, he went to visit Antisthenes, from whom having received a shameful repulse, he yet tarried, neither would depart; at which Antisthenes angered, lifted up his staff to strike him: Diogenes nothing moved thereat, bowing down his head, bade him strike, telling him, he could not drive him away with the hardest staff he could find, so long as he discoursed of any thing, whereby his understanding might be bettered. O thou glory of Greece! did poverty according to thine own confession drive thee to study Philosophy, & shall not stripes now drive thee from it?  
Pause here a while, Reader, & if thou be'st young, learn here to love learning; and if in age thou art, let this example comfort quisition. One saying, there was no such thing as Motion; he rose up & walked. In this he pointed at the sottishness of those, that deny things universally granted. Spado a rich knave, writ over the portal of his house these words: Nihil hic ingrediatur mali: Let nothing evil enter here: Alas, said Diogenes, Where shall the Master of the house go in? Who sees not in this place the pretended purity of Spado pointed at, and laughed at? A neat brisk young man spurred him a question, to whom Diogenes answered, that he would not resolve him, till he had felt whether he were a man or a woman. Here an effeminate dress not be fitting a man, is reproved. He resembled a rich Buzzard to a sheep, with a golden Fleece. Seeing many women hanged on an Olive tree, I would, says he, All trees bore such fruit. Being questioned what he would take to receive a blow on the pate, he answered, An Helmet. Being demanded, what Wine he loved best, he said Another man's. Coming to Myndum, seeing great gates, and a little City; he thus exclaimed: O men of Myndun, shut your gates, lest your City go out. He gibed at beggary, that would observe state. To a bad, sluggish wrestler, newly turned Physician, he said; Those that threw thee upon the ground, thou wilt now throw into it.  
Xeniades ask him, how he would be buried; he answered, Upon his face; and made this his reason, that the world would shortly be turned topsie turuy, and then should he be buried on his back, his tail would come to be uppermost. 
Here he mocks also the Macedonians  Here he scoffs at those, that before death have a great care of burial. He praised those that were about to take wives, but never took them; that were about to sail, but never sailed.  
Being demanded what was the fittest hour to dine at; he replied, that a rich man's hour was, when he would, and a poor man's, when he could get it.  
Many more of these ingenious speeches had he, for which, a very barren wit may find fit applications: but I will not here set them down, lest the length offend, and the number take away the sweetness. Besides, I should much wrong Diogenes, who hath yet better stuff in him, and more worthy the dwelling upon. I will therefore now arrive at the Port, where all Diogenes virtues lie at anchor. At anchor, said I? Yes surely, Virtue never took a deeper root in any mind, then in that of Diogenes. By reiteration of actions, he had gained so strong a habit for every virtue, that they were of proof to abide the battery of Fortune. He was no Statist; and therefore of his prudency, and justice, I shall not need to make relation. He had not so much as need of that part of justice, which we call Commutative: for he neither bought, nor borrowed any thing.  
Socrates going on a time into the Market, pondering the infinity of things vendible, cried out; Ye Gods, how many things I want not! Diogenes' might better have said so, his drink being water, his food roots, his house a tub. Certainly, had he wanted a nurse, no beast on earth but might have bragged of as choice keeping. Nature was his Cook, and provided him no sauce but hunger. 
His temperancy.  Can his Temperancy better be expressed? 
His Continency.  As for his Continency (in which he is held defective) I can read but one thing in all his life, which can eclipse it; and undoubtedly, had he thought it a breach of Continency, he had never acted that. It is a thing to me strange, that Diogenes so great a teacher of Modesty, should himself be incontinent.  
He was so joyful a beholder of Modesty, that seeing once a youth blush, he said, Trust to it, my Son, this is the colour of Virtue. Hearing a comely youth to use undecent speeches, he thus rebuked him: Fie, Son, 
His love of Modesty.  do not you blush to draw a Leaden sword out of an ivory Scabbard? Speak Envy, could Modesty herself have spoken more? To a young man too curious in his dressing, he gave this check: If thou goest to men, all this is in vain; if to women, 'tis wicked.  

His patience.  His Patience next presents itself, which in him was so great, that belief will reject it, as a thing incredible. His poverty, his old age, his banishment, the hisses of the people, the whooping of boys, he bore with such a calm of mind, that a man would have thought his discontents had contented him. Having received a blow on the head from one, all his revenge lay in these words: Truly, I never thought till now, my head had been armed with an helmet.  
Thus he overcame himself, and conquered his adversary, who was overcome by anger. They hit him in the teeth with his stamping of false coin in his youth; to whom, this was his answer: In my youth I pissed apace, but now softly. The worst speeches they could give him, stirred not up his wrath, but his contempt. He says himself, that this World's most miserable creature, is an old Man poor. How we should believe thee, Diogenes, I know not: for thou thyself art poor, thou thyself art aged, & yet thy felicity admits no equiparation, nay, hardly a comparison. To show Fortune, that she hath not crosses enough to load thee, thou playest the Voluntary, and makest thy burden more weighty, enduring more than the hardhearted Goddess would have thee, putting thyself to a penance, which she never enjoined. I call you to witness all that now breath; was there ever (without a measure of grace) such a pattern of patience? He renders Fortune back, part of her allowance, as if it were too large. She gives him a dish, he throws it in her face; and seeing a boy drink water out of the hollow of his hand, he does the like, never using his dish more. What, says he, & shall a boy excel Diogenes in humility? 
His Humility.  No, Diogenes, no boy shall surpass thee in Humility, in Magnanimity no man. Thou couldst never have been thus humble, 
His Magnanimity.  hadst thou not been Magnanimous.  
Aristotle here stays my hand, and teacheth me, that Magnitudo animi magnis in rebus (ut nomen ipsum declarat) elucet: The Magnitude of the mind (as the name itself declares) appears in great things, & therefore Magnanimity cannot be ascribed to Diogenes. Yes Aristotle, I will convince thee with a sentence of thine own, & by it prove, that Magnanimity was in Diogenes. These are thy words: Magno animo habendus is, qui magna se mereri existimat, idque suo merito: He is to be accounted Magnanimous, that thinks he deserves much, his merit answering his estimation. That Diogenes knew his own deserts, and was nearer the over then the undervalue of himself, the whole course of his life will discover.  
When he was taken & sold, it was demanded of him, what he could do: to which he answered, that he knew how to command men; and therefore turning himself to the Crier; Proclaim, says he, if any man will buy him a Master, etc. He told Xeniades, who bought him, that though he was his Slave, yet he must be obeyed; For, says he, a physician & a Pilot, though they be servants both, yet they rule all. Being invited to supper, he denied his presence, and made this his reason; that he had not yet received thanks for his last company.  
He was so far from a low opinion of himself, that he thought his fellowship was richly worth a thanksgiving. Some counseling him to seek out his servant run away, he told them, it would be ridiculous, if Manes could live without Diogenes, and Diogenes could not live without the help of Manes.  
Going from Lacedaemon towards Athens, one encountering him on the way, questioned with him from whence he came, and whither he went: to whom he returned this answer, that he came from men, and was going to women. His big heart could not smother his scorn of womanish persons, nor his approbation of the manly. He denied himself to be a Slave; for, says he, Lions serve not their Keepers, but the Keepers the Lions. He thought himself to be the same amongst men, that the Lion was amongst the beasts; & that though Fortune kept him from the exercise of his authority, yet he was indeed their Emperor; & therefore a fear, and a reverence was due unto him. Neither was this only Stoical Magniloquency: he did the great things he spoke. Though Fortune allotted him the portion of a Slave, yet did he undergo no office servile. The worst of his office was, to teach; a function, than which none is more Noble and Royal. What higher happiness can Invention find out, then to be able to teach reason to Creatures rational? We seeing those not to want their praise, that have the gift of teaching a Dog, a Horse, or a Hawk.  
If then the prestancy of instructing be such; surely Diogenes (with whom it was so frequent) may in name, but not in deed be a Slave. A Prince he was rather, who gave laws and precepts worthy a Prince, his mind being a fountain, in whose went himself in person to visit him.  
In the suburbs of Corinth, at a place called Cranium, he found him laid all along in the Sun: but when the good old man saw so many coming towards him, he somewhat raised up himself, & fixed his eyes full upon Alexander. He that in war so furious, was here as courteous, and asked the Cynic, if he lacked any thing: Yes, said he, that I do, That thou stand out of my Sun a little. Alexander had the Magnanimity of this man in so great admiration, that he was ready to wish a transformation of Alexander into Diogenes: but when he remembered his immortal race; his self-love made him think that thought base; and yet to his deriding followers he said, that if he had not been Alexander, he could have wished himself Diogenes. I cannot blame him: for if he, that approacheth nearest in knowledge to the Deity, deserve amongst men the principality: Surely then Diogenes shall be the superior of Alexander.  
spirit, one World is too narrow to contain, whom the riches in, & upon all earth cannot content: Behold here, (beyond thy hope!) a sight; a happy man, the resolution of whose mind no external thing can shake. Without envy, 
Passion an enemy to Virtue.  without fear, without hope I live, being subject to as little passion as any, the gods excepted.  
See here the universal happiness of this Universe contracted into a Tub, which I no sooner go out of, but all the ground I walk on, is mine own. My foot treads on not another's earth; all belongs to Diogenes. Mine eye cannot discover any thing, I am not Lord of. Nature made all things in this inferior world for the use of Diogenes. Nothing on the earths surface, nothing in her entrails, that is not mine. I dare call the Sun mine, the Stars mine, nay, jupiter himself, mine. If (according to thy vain supposition) he were thy Father, yet so precious in his sight thou couldst not be, as is Diogenes. There is an affinity and a friendship between good men, and the gods, whose goodness they imitate. If then thou be the Son of this Almighty voiding of any thing. Virtue makes me rich, and poverty secure. What is it I lack? Am I not void of fear? Am I not free? Who ever saw me frustrated of my wishes? Could Fortune ever yet force me to accuse the gods of injustice, or men of falsehood? How often hath she put me to the rack, and yet could never make me confess her Deity? All my actions are generous, bold, honest, and endure the light. It may be Nature, being hasty, was not curious in the frame of my body, but made me all at one sitting, not gracing my visage with her purest colours. What of that? 
The fairness of the mind is to be preferred before that of the body.  In this Tun of filth, a mind as fair as the Sun I carry about. My conscience is my guard, Virtue my Armour; by the former backed, by the latter armed, I am invincible. I love honesty simply, for itself without hope of reward, or fear of punishment. Others have houses to keep them from the rage of the wind and weather, whereas I lie at the Sign of the Moon, and the seven Stars; having nothing but mine innocency to defend me from the heavens cruelty.  
I need not blush at any one of my actions: I make the people my spectators, & my judges. I approve myself to God; the censures of men, 
The censure of man not to be regarded.  I regard not, nor care I, if all my thoughts were registered. What is good, I applaud: what is evil, I reprehend in whom soever I find it. Thus it often falls out, that my Patients beat me, and will not attend the cure of their bad affections. My mind altars not, notwithstanding their stubbornness: but I still endeavour to teach those that correct me; and with the fondness of a Father love them.  
Liberty, (the very sound of which allures all men (whom many have sought) through fire, through blood, through famine, yet could not find her) shines in this breast of mine, where she is so surely seated, that from thence the power of all earth cannot hale her. Thou (who hast conquered Climates, and brought so many kingdoms to obedience) with the strength of althine host, canst not force the mind of Diogenes.  
'tis possible thou mayest conquer all this Hemisphere, and lead it against that other, but impossible thou shouldst compel Diogenes. 
Man is called a little World.  Thou hast already terrified all the great World; but this little world with all thy forces thou canst not affright. Style not thyself Conqueror, before thou hast overcome Diogenes. What canst thou lay upon me that I cannot undergo with an upright shoulder? I can as freely suffer as thou canst punish. Make Diogenes acknowledge himself miserable, and then thy victory is complete. Which way canst thou vex me? An exile I here already stand, and wilt thou banish me hence too? Do so; confine me to what place thou wilt, and that is part of my Country. I am not a Citizen of Athens, nor of Corinth, but of the World. 
The whole world is a wise man's Country.  I am free of this capacious Circumference, and therefore cannot be sent from home.  
Any place habitable for man or beast I can live in. Thou canst not send me thither where I shall not tread upon some earth, drink some water. Having heaven over, and earth under me, I cannot do amiss. The basest Soldier of thine army was never driven by Necessity to that hardness, which I voluntary put my age, The lees of Life; for on my never violated word, my later days are as pleasing to me, as were my first. Sure some woman first broached that opinion, who had rather be strucken dead, then strucken in years. I have not a Character of age but my hair. My sight is quick, my joints nimble, my back strong, my heart good. No man that sees me would think that the earth's lap were my best Lodging.  
Thou seest by this time, great Alexander, that thou canst not send me out of mine own Country, or if thou couldst, yet that I am so armed against the miseries of an exile, that banishment to me would rather be a journey of pleasure, then of penance. But thou wilt say, that thy power extends itself farther, and that thou art Master of my life. I grant it, thou art so. What of that? He is not a Philosopher that this can move. It would trouble me no more to lay down my life, than it would do thee to take it.  
Yea good Gods! what a sight it is to behold an austere, 
He is no Philosopher that fears death.  bushbearded Philosopher (who fears a razor, as much as a rope) quake at the name of death, even as a trevant boy does at the name of his Tutor? Such a one was old Antisthenes, whom I hearing exclaim, and say, Who shall free me of my griefs? I forthwith gave him a dagger, and told him, that could ease him: to which he made reply, that he desired to be rid of his griefs, not of his life. I cannot abstain from extremity of laughter, when I ruminate Homer's Mars, whom he describes beaten, and howling so, that the clamours of ten thousand men could not drown the noise he made.  
Perhaps he wanted Venus there to wipe his face, to struck his head, and to dry his n'eyes. Though he was a god, and could not die, yet he could not contemn pain, 
A good man fears not death, but to deserve it.  which a weak woman in travail can endure. A lofty spirit indeed fears not death, but to deserve it: and verily, he deserves it, that cannot suffer it.  
He that abhorreth death telleth us, that he hath yet done nothing to make himself live hereafter, and therefore would yet be, because he never yet was.  
An earthly body is too in hers. Alexander condemns Diogenes to die, and Nature Alexander.  
Take this old head off, & see if not undaunted I stand the stroke, and why? because I know thou art but nature's Executioner. I will stare my headsman in the face with as much confidence, as if he came to barb me. 
Necessity is to be obeyed.  What I must, that I will do, without so much as a repine, or a struggle. I am not ignorant that Necessity & Fate are twins; what Fate decrees, that Necessity exacts. I profess to thee, I would neither eat, nor drink, but that Necessity will have it so, neither would I die, did not Necessity will it: but, Necessity bidding, I will as willingly die, as either eat, or drink. And if I should not, 
Nothing horrible in Death.  stripes were my due, since I see nothing horrible in death.  
No evil can happen to him in this life, that truly comprehends, that in the privation of life there is no evil. Those, who compare death to sleep, show us the little harm is in it. Death is nothing to him that contemplates it aright; for while we are, Death is absent, & when death is come, we are then departed.  
So that it is a false opinion of death's cruelty, and not death itself that torments us. Certainly, had Nature written the day of each man's death in his forehead, all the world would have died with thought, and not one have lived to his assigned day.  

No death miserable, but that of profane men.  There is no death miserable, but that which gives an end to a profane life, the wicked leaving their infamy as an inheritance to their posterity. Blessed is he, and next to the Gods happy, that dies, his head begirt with a Garland of glorious actions, whose sweet savour shall perfume the world. Thus shall I die, who have lived with more innocency than Men, and with approbation of the Gods. Destroy then my body, victorious man, make it a subject of dishonour, and shame, nay, exercise all imaginable villainy upon it, and thou shalt see me stand like one elected by jove, to try how much human Nature can suffer. All thy torments cannot alter the temper of my mind, nor can any punishment displease me.  
Is it thy will the rage of fire consume me? with a thankful heart I accept it, thinking it better to hau● my body consume in an Element noble, and borne with Heaven itself, then to have putrefaction, and corruption prey upon it. Wilt thou drown me? Though this be the most terrible of deaths, because the substance of the Soul (as some think) is fiery, and therefore abhors to be quenched, yet it shall nothing at all appall me. I had as lief the Fishes should devour me, as the Worms. All pains, all deaths are to me indifferent.  
As a strong constitution can away with heats, and colds, and all such annoyances: so a good disposition can withstand the malice, and the fury of Tyrants, together with all such afflictions. Thou canst provide no torture, mighty Monarch, against which my mind is not forearmed.  
Thus much on the passive part; now on the Active. Leavy Diogenes an Army of men, and see if he do not, as well as thou, teach them the military Discipline, and be to them an example of Valour. But what shall draw me into the field? An Ambition to be styled Monarch of the World? standing; for I had rather give my body to the ground, then give ground. In this cause I would not care to die with conquering, so by death I might conquer.  
Here should my prowess proclaim to my Soldiers, that Fortune is sometime wanting to the valiant, but ever to cowards. In this quarrel were Alexander my foe, I would single him out, and fist to fist encounter him, though I knew destruction to be the certain wages of his sword. I would then make it apparent to Alexander, that a Philosopher's courage cannot fall, though his Body cannot stand, 
A Philosopher's courage falleth not with his body.  and that though it be the task of one man to take Diogenes' prisoner, yet millions of men cannot subdue his soul.  
Nay (which more is) Fortune (to whose will thou and thine army are subject) could never yet cause the mind of Diogenes to stoop. That blind Queen of this Ball, who is above thee, and Kings, is under me. My mind is not dejected, but erected against Fortune's worst. If thy pride will let thee learn, I will teach thee too how to lay her prostrate at thy feet. Listen and his last gasp will groan out love. In death he will love me, and I him after it. His memory shallbe as dear to me, as ever was his presence. But grant it to be a cross deserving grief, no more to taste the sweetness of my friend's conversation. How then? Must I therefore break out into immoderate whining? No. Fortune hath yet left me Philosophy to moderate betwixt me and sorrow. Philosophy tells me that my friend was borne subject to that fatal law of Nature, which as it allows an entrance into life; so it commands a departure out.  
The earth never produced any thing that was not reduced to that first, 
The first minute of ●ife, we march to meet death  predominant Element. The first minute of our life, we lake our journey towards death, which some finish in that minute, some in an hour, in a year some, and all once. He that endeth soon his pilgrimage, is in my opinion most in grace with Providence. As we prise our meat, not according to the quantity, but the quality of it: so should we life; not according to the length, but the sweetness of the same.  
jupiter I have often called port him, that his curses shall aim at, though they cannot hit jupiter. He will dare to say that the soul of his Love grudged to leave her body, as being loath to leave a true heaven to go to a supposed. Exclaim he will against death, and call for his fatal stroke, bidding death to be pitiless towards him, since to her he was not pitiful. He will say that Nature, to avoid the imputation of a liar, let death seize her, Nature having in her promised more to the World, than she could perform. In contempt he will mention the flinty wisdom of us Cynics, and swear that we are as void of virtues, as of affections▪ and by way of argument will avouch, that no Virtue makes a man lose his understanding. But were he conversant in our Schools, he should there learn that a man, 
A wise man submits his mind to God, all other things to his mind.  who understands himself aright, will subject his mind to God, all other things to his mind, and not lose his understanding for the loss of a woman. We could teach him that they are fools, who will not lay down for their own sake, the grief which they have taken for another's.  
in thy breast, not in the field. It is not blood, not famine, not war that can bring peace to thine own conscience. 
The feliciis false that depends on things external.  If on external things depend thine inward content, with those external things thy content will vanish. If thy quiet of soul be procured by things without thee, Fortune (of these things the Mistress) will command all the thoughts within thee. Thy mirth, and thy sadness shall be at her appointment. Is there a beauty on which thy thoughts seed? That beauty she will blast. Is there an eye, the very thought whereof enlightens thy mind? That eye shall be extinguished. Lies all thy pleasures in thy possessions? Within one hour Fortune will lay all thy wealth in another's lap. Art thou now one of the earth's mightiest Kings? Anon thou shalt be ranked amongst Slaves. Thus shall thy mind be as changeable as is all mutable Fortune.  
Live then another while under the government of Virtue, and believe me (whom in all things thou seest to be above Fortune) that thy joys shall far exceed the number of thy days. But a subject of thy stomach, not inflame thy blood. The fullness of wickedness hath often followed repletion of the grape. If to live joyfully, and blessedly be thy wish, have a care thy attendants be honest.  

The company of the honest to be embraced.  Honest they shall be, if thou banish the vicious, and retain the virtuous. In the flight of the one, villainy and slavery will depart thy Court, and with the good that tarry with thee, goodness, and liberty will remain. It is better to have one true, honest attendant, than a flock of fools, and knaves. Listen no longer to flatterers, whose soothe are pernicious. As a Wolf is like a dog, yet they are of far different natures: so is a flatterer like a friend, though their intents be divers.  
Suffer not Sycophants to persuade thee to the erecting of thy Statues, nor let Apelles draw thee any more, but, that City which thou meanest to grace with thine Image, there strive to make the memory of thee a Monument of Gentleness, of Mercy, of justice, of Liberality.  
As the Sun attends not on the prayers of mortals, but rises of his own accord, shines freely, and is of all all-hailed: So neither do thou respect the praises, the applauses, and invocations of the people, but do good freely, without solicitation; so shalt thou be as welcome to thy subjects, as is the Sun to Mortality. If thou be'st not thus gracious, and thus good, thou art not worthy to be a Prince; and therefore resign thine office to me. I will make it manifest to thee, that a Philosopher can prevail more with persuasion, than thou by violence. But me thinks I hear thy insolent tongue bid me betake myself to the government of my Tub, the only Kingdom I was borne to. 
He is most miserable, that cannot govern his passion and confine his desire's.  Mock on, most miserable of mortals, who canst neither govern thy passions, nor confine thy desires; Diogenes despises thy derision. This Cask I dwell in, is to my mind as ample, as all thy Dominions are to thine.  
As he that is borne in Persia, will not covet to live in Greece, but in Persia set up his rest: So I being born in Poverty, with poverty am contented, nor does my highest thought aim at abundance.  
For Alexander to say he is better than Diogenes, because he is richer, is as much, as if one horse should say to another, I am better than thou, because I have more Provender, more hay, and finer trappings: or as if one bird should say to another, I am to be preferred before thee, because I have finer feathers and a neater nest.  
As it is the swiftness of the wing, & the foot, which commends the Hawk and the Horse: so is it the quickness of capacity that commends the man. In this ability of soul, if Alexander surpass Diogenes, 
The ability of soul, is that which commends the man.  Alexander shall have the upper hand. But in that, Diogenes cannot be excelled; and therefore will never yield to Alexander the precedency. Get thee gone then to those that worship thee as a God; for I think thee not a complete man. Tell thy Idolaters, thou didst meet with a man that proved himself happy, and thee miserable.  
And if they ask thee who? Say it was Diogenes, who neither feared thee, nor Fortune. God and mine innocency protect me against thee, and her. My vours, 
The body is subject to many inconveniences.  to tyrants, to fire, to water, and to all things in strength above it; but nothing is above the heavenly part, but heaven, and the almighty maker of all things, jupiter. If then thou hast nothing that can ennoble, and enrich my soul, keep all to thyself; for concerning my body I am not solicitous. So base a thing is the body, that had not Nature give to every man a self love, each man would have sought his own destruction, rather than have his soul dwell in so loath some a lodging. This he shall soon apprehend, that does but imagine what a trouble, and vexation it would be unto him for a week only to dress, and mundify any man's body but his own. With what indignation he would rub another's teeth, and cleanse other parts, which nature of necessity must foul. 
The love we bear ourselves, makes us bear with our infirmity.  It is then the love we bear ourselves, which makes us bear with our infirmities. If then it be true, that in our bodies we are subject to so many diseases, to so many discommodities; and that it is the divine Mistress of this clayey mansion that gives us freedom, I will seek to polish and adorn the latter, but bestow little cost on the former. Why? this Philosopher, 
Diogenes had a greater spirit than Alexander.  whose mind was greater than the monarchs to whom his speech was directed. He that looks into their deaths (the only touchstone to find a counterfeit courage) shall see Diogenes die like a man, and great Alexander like a little child.  
He that had made so many Nations patiently put on the yoke of servitude, became himself such a slave to fear, that he sent to death all those that did but mention Augury, 
The superstition of Alexander.  and trembled at the whistling of the winds. Every ordinary accident was to him ominous, and any noise he heard, he thought to be the voice of death. His end was much like that of Lewis the 11. 
The ends of Alexander and of Lewis the eleventh of France much alike.  of France, who in his latter days suspected the faith of his old servants, cooped himself up in an Iron cage, & secluded himself from all society. He gave his Physician 10000 Crowns a month, to prolong his too well beloved life. He commanded the observation of solemn days, fasts and prayers, not so much for the salvation of his soul, as for the preservation of his putrefied part: not the eternity, yet it seems that death was more afraid of him, 
Death was more afraid of Diogenes, than he of it.  than he of it, in that he was fain to seek it. So some report, and that, by keeping in his breath, he let out his Soul. Others (with more probability) deny that his death was violent, and describe the manner of it. By this latter Narration we shall learn, that though he laid not violent hands on himself, yet he shook hands with death, and welcomed him as the only Physician that could cure him of all his aches. He cried when he came into the world, because he was a child: but, being a man, he scorns to howl at his going out.  
There was no more motion, no more reluctation of Nature in his death, then in the sleep of others. A little before life left him, a short slumber usherd death, out of which being awaked, his Physician asked him how he did, & inquired whether or no his pain lessened; 
The admirable answer of Diogenes to 〈◊〉 Physician.  to whom he answered, that anon it would diminish; for he had entertained the one brother already, and looked tam stertere noctem,  
Diogenes half asleep, half awake, answered thus, Qui popules moderatur, & ampla negotia tractat.  
This answer expressed to the full the worth, and office of Diogenes, who taught the people to obey, and Kings to rule aright. 
Their virtues compared.  Alexander surpassed Diogenes in strength, wherein a horse surpasses Alexander; Diogenes excelled Alexander in knowledge, wherein the gods excelled not Diogenes. 
Diogenes' greater than the gods he worshipped.  He was, indeed, greater than the gods he worshipped, who were of mortal race as he was, and had not so much desert to claim a Deity as he had. Alexander could not temper his passions, but in his anger put to death Philotas, and slew Clitus as brave a Soldier as himself, and all for remembering him, that he was the son of Philip. Diogenes made his affections conformable to his will, and his will to reason. Alexander sought to shun inevitable death; Diogenes met it boldly. The Sun in the space of twelve hours