A Dialogue full of pith and pleasure: between three Philosophers: Antonio, Meandro, and Dinarco:  
Upon the Dignity, or Indignity of man..  
Partly Translated out of Italian and partly set down by way of observation.  
By Nicholas Breton, Gentleman.  
Dignus honore pius, Gloria sola Deus.  
LONDON Printed by T. C. for john Browne, and are to be sold at his Shop in Saint Dunston's Churchyard in Fleetstreet. 1603.   

TO THE RIGHT Worshipful the lover of all good spirits, and nourisher of all good studies, john Linewray, Esquire, Master surveyor general of all her majesties Ordinance, Necholas Breton wisheth the merits of much worthiness on earth, and the joys of hea●uen hereafter.  
SIr, it is a custom among the best minds, to call their thoughts daily to account, to whom and in what they are beholding, which considered, they fall next to the endeavour of desert, and last of all into a hate of themselves, if they perform not something, wherein they are seen● to be themselves: now, finding myself so much bound to your undeserved favours, that I cannot avoid Ingratitude, to bury them in oblivion, I have awaked my dull spirit to salute your kindness, with this token of my love: wherein you shall find a matter of more worth than I am worthy to meddle with, handled in Diologue-wise, betwixt three Philosophers: in which, vnde● the Title of the Dignity or Indignity of Man, are discoursed many necessary points to be considered of▪ as well for the outward as the inward parts; wherein it may be you shall find pleasant wits speak to some purpose, no Machavilian policies, nor yet idle fables, no strange Riddles, nor vain libeling ballads, but quick spirits whetting their brains, to show the edge of their inventions: and not to be tedious in my Preface before you come to the matter, you shall find in sum, that true worth, wherein lieth the whole matter, that only maketh the worthy or unworthy man, and the due glory unto God, who is only worthy of all honour, & of all men: the greatest part of this book was in Italian, dedicated to a man of much esteem, in the Dukedom of Florence, and this book in this our Language, I have thought good here in England, to present to your worthiness, of a better work, in this her majesties Royal Tower of London: in which, as by your continual travels in your place, you doubtless deserve no less gracious regard of the greatest, then account with the wisest; so would I be glad by the due fruit of my thankfulness, of yourself, and men of your worth, to be worthily thought honest. In assured hope whereof, leaving my book to your kind acceptation, and my love to your like account, I rest.  
Yours affectionately to command: Nich. Breton.   

To the Reader.  
BY your patience gentle Reader, give me leave to lay before your eyes, a discourse upon the Dignity, or Indignity of Man, handled in the manner of a Dialogue, by two or three conceited companions: that though they were no great Graduates, yet it seemed by that they spoke, they understood what they learned; and though they exceed not in their knowledge, yet they went not to school for nothing: two of them it should seem were younger than the third, who, in his sullen humour used speech that might give cause of mirth; how ever they disagreed in their opinions touching the matter they had in talk, yet they parted, and lived such friends, as made good use each of others company. So would I wish it to be with you that read, what ever you think of my writing, yet so to conceive of my labour, that being not disdainfully spoken of in this, it may be better employed hereafter: but lest I should beg a liking of that which may seem not worth the looking on, I will leave my wo●ke to the world's courtesy, and my good will to my friend's kindness: and so rest to every one as I have reason.  
A friend, Nicho. Breton▪   

A Dialogue between three conceited companions: Dinarco, Antonio▪ and Meandro, upon the Dignity or Indignity of man..  Antonio. 
MY good friend, well overtaken.  Dinar. 
That is as it falls out.  Anto. 
Why? I speak out of a good mind, that hoped to meet with no other.  Dinar. 
Nay, your words may seem to be good, but your mind is known to yourself.  Anto. 
So it may be to you, if it please you.  Dinar. 
But what shall I get by it▪  Anto. 
No hurt, i● you mistake not yourself: But why do you grow into this humour? If you desire to be solitary, let not me b● troublesome. God be with you.  Dinar. 
Nay sof●, I love you too well to let you pass with your impatience: an● therefore temper your wits, your walk will b● the better: but tell me what you would say, if you could speak?  Anto. 
I would say that I never heard any man speak as you do: but I would you would speak to some better purpose.  Dinar. 
Vanity, vanity, and all is vanity.  Anto. 
W●at of that?  D●n. 
W●y, when all is nothing, to what purpose is any thing▪  Anto. 
Then leave the world, and speak of God.  Dinar. 
Oh leave that to the Angels, for men are become such devils, that th●y are not worthy to think upon th● name of God.  Anto. 
Oh those be Atheists, au●ngeance on them: but surely there are some goo● creatures on y●●arth, th●t sincerely honour God.  Dinar. 
But are t●ey no● 〈◊〉 m●●t o● th●m?  Anto. 
Such beggars are ric● men, wh●●h in Grace have a great possession.  Dinar. 
Yea, bu● that Grace hath little grace in this world.  Anto. 
No matter, for there will one day be a change, when the goats will be severed f●om th● shrepe, and then Conscience will be somewhat in account.  Dinar. 
You speak of a great while hence, but there are many things to be done before that day.  Anto. 
And yet it may come ere it be looked for.  Dinar. 
True, but that is either not believed, or l●●●e thought on: but a little by the way, i● your haste be not the greater▪ will you st●●e a while with me, and sit down by this fair spring? for I am not young, and old men must have baits, i● their ●ournies be ●ar●e.  Anto. 
I will either stay or go with you with all my heart, for my business is not such as can draw me from your company: but look you who cometh out of the wood, over the style, making towards us.  Dinar. 
It is Meandro, seem not to s●e him.  Mean. 
Gentlemen, is are well met this fair morning: her● are two sweet Fountains, one of clear water, and an other of clear wit.  Dinar. 
What shall we have a play?  Anto. 
Why Sir?  D●. 
Why, do not you hear the Parasite begin the Prologue?  Me. 
Oh Sir, good words, you know I am no capper nor curt●●s man and therefore if I were deceived, I am sorry for my opinion.  Dinar. 
Why you know, water may be fowl, and wit foolish: and therefore wash your hands ere you know the one, and call your thoughts together, before you judge of the other.  Mean. 
Ind●ed Sir you do well to teach children how to read, but he that is entered in his Primer, needs no help in his A.B.C.  Dinar. 
Indeed an old fool is no babe, and yet ●leare eyes may have a blind sight.  Me●n. 
It may be a principle among Spittle-men, but sound limbs need no Surgeon: but yet for your good words I thank you, and as I can, I will requited you. But leaving this cross ●inde of car●ing, I pray you let us fa●l to some ●airer play, that Signi●● Antonio may have a part, and not stand like a Torch bearer.  Dinar. 
Why, devise what you will, that may not lo●se time, and you shall soon try my cunning.  Mean. 
Why Sir, shall we speak of love?  Di. 
Oh the vainest thing of the world, which is either mistaken, or unknown, or at least if there be any, it liveth in the heavens, where the world cannot come at it: what say you Antonio?  An. 
Truly I have no pleasure to loose time in idleness, for either as you said in the world it is not, or as it is, not worth the talking on.  D●. 
W●ll said, wanton love, is lust: wealthy love, covetousness, and feigned love hypocrisy▪ but the true love is Charity, which in the world is grown so cold, that it makes me shiver to think on it, and therefore have little pleasure to speak of it.  Mean. 
Then S●● shall we talk of Virtue?  Dinar. 
What, how little she is esteemed in the world? what says Antonio?  An. 
Truly Sir, I can rather sigh for her, then speak of her, ●or she is so poorly maintained in many places, that she is called but the Lady of the beggars: and therefore I had rather honour her wher● I find her, then talk of her, where I can do her no good: but i● it please y●u, shall we speak of Arms?  Di. 
Me thinks peace were a better hearing, and valour is better to be seen in action, than argument: what says Meandro?  Mean. 
Me thinks the sound of blood is hideous, and the terror of death is miserable: but shall we rather speak of peace?  Dinar. 
I think you may hold your peace a good while, before you can truly speak of peace among men, for since the Author of it went from the earth, I think it was never seen in the world. How say you Antonio?  Anto. 
I think that discord hath so got the upper hand, that peace is so put to silence, that there is almost nothing to be spoken of her, but that it is pity she is no more to be spoken of.  Dinar. 
True: for not only men have no great pleasure in her, but the women are out of love with her: and what shall we th●n talk of her?  Anto. 
Shall we then talk of state matters?  Dinar. 
Not for your lives: make clean your dishes and your platters, but talk of no Princes matters.  Mean. 
Indeed the mean is best, and a quiet is a happy life, obey laws, pay duties, aware bonds, keep silence, fear God, and pray for the Queen: these are all the state matters, that I will either speak of, or hearken too.  Anto. 
Indeed little said, is soon amended: and silence s●ldome hath offended: who looks high, may have a chip fall in his ●ye.  Dinar. 
Yea, and perhaps a chop on his neck, that may cost him his head: but what, shall we speak in rhyme?  Anto. 
A little, but if you like it, shall we speak of Poetry?  Dinar. 
What, Ballads? why it is grown to such a pass, that the E. i● taken out, and of Poetry, it is called pottry: why verses are so common, that they are nailed upon every post: beside, it is a poor profession.  Mean. 
Ind●ed they are most in use with Players, and musicans, for else they go down the world for employment: but if there were a fall of rich men, there might be some work for them about Epitaphs: for if they be too busy with Libels, they are put to silence for ever after: but shall we leave this poor subject, and speak of the excellency of Music?  Dinar. 
Oh the Instrument betwixt the legs, where the stick and the Fiddle can divide finely upon a plain song, and carry the parts full, puts down all the Music of these days.  Mean. 
Yet a still Recorder doth well in a Chamber, where a so●●●p will use him sweetly: but, what should stayed wits trouble their heads with too many crotchets? Let us honour the Art, and talk of some other exp●rienc●.  A●to. 
Shall we speak of Physic?  Dinar. 
Oh the word is ill in pronouncing, Physic is an vns●uery matter, that shows nothing but sorrow, for the charge of the recovery, makes the grief● of the remedy: beside, only on the Patient's pain, groweth the physicians profit: no, no, exercise, and a spare diet, early rising, and warm clothes, is better than a pill or a potion: Oh the very thought of it hurts my stomach, I pray thee let us talk no more of it.  Mean. 
Shall we then discourse of Law?  Dinar. 
Argue that list upon their cases, I pray God keep me from their Courts, where their quirks and qui●ides makes me desire title of their acquaintance.  Anto. 
Indeed I have heard it compared unto a Labyrinth, where one may get in when he will, and out, when he can: but the cry of the poor so discredits many of the professor●, that I have no pleasure to speak of it.  Mean. 
Shall we then talk of hunting or hawking?  Dinar. 
What birds, and dogs? No, no, tiring of legs, and tearing of throats, with luring, and hollowing, are nothing pleasing to mine humour, I do not love so to make a ●oyle of a pleasure.  Anto. 
Shall we then talk of Astronomy?  Din. 
No: let us rather look about us in the world, then stand staring on the stars: I love not, with following the Moon to fall into a d●tch.  Mean. 
Shall we then speak a little of Beauty?  Dinar. 
D● 'tis grown so Artificial, that the natural is almost out of p●int, and because I will rob no Artificer of his cunning, I will leave that Art to the Painter.  Anto. 
Indeed S●r, I hear that most young Lovers are Idolaters, for in stead of lively faces, they do reverence to painted Images.  Dinar. 
Truly, I am of your mind.  Mean. 
Then let us begin where we left this other day, to speak of the Dignity or Indignity of m●n: what say you Master Antonio?  Anto. 
I will answer your proposition, but Dinarco that hau● the garland.  Mean. 
Why ●●r, I will not injure the Tavern to steal away she bush, and therefore let words that ●ost little, be afforded good cheap, and as well taken as spoken.  Dinar. 
Content is pleased, and for that I will not be ceremonious, I will begin to break ●he Ice. I am persuaded that there is no creature so little worthy honour as man: I mean not absolutely without exceptions, as man hath been and should be, but as man is, and should not be: but because I would be glad to hear your two kind quarrelings upon the questions, and for that my memory of that I would say, may be the better refreshe● by that that either of you say, let me increase Antonio begin, as the elder, I cannot say the better scholar.  Mean. 
Father, w●e will confess ourselves all punies to your perfection, and Scholars in your school, where, who doth remember what you teach, may make much of his understanding.  Dinar. 
Go too I say, use Rhetoric so a better use than flattery, and rather do as you have reason, than say that you have no thanks for: and yet but lovingly angry, I pray you take not ill a good meaning: and Master Antonio, ●et me entreat you to begin the delivery of your opinion, wi●h your reasons for the same, touching the worthiness or the unworthiness of man.  Anto. 
Father you may command your children, though w● blush at our b●ldnesse, and therefore under correction, I will be but obedient to commandment.  Dinar. 
Well Antonio, be not sine with your friends, it is Art to hide Art: you know I love you, and so I pray you understand me, and yet modesty I allow of, so it be not below the cliff of good Music: but I pray you begin.  Anto. 
Touching the dignity, or indignity of man, this is mine opinion, that by all which I can with indifferent judgement find out by all the notes that I have taken in the nature and the life of man. I see not any, but that compared with other creatures, I ●●nde him the less worthy of any, yea almost of any to be commended. For ●●●st, touching his first substance, was he not created of the ●●me of the earth, than which, what can be worse imagined? And touching generation, is not man even at this day of the like substance? In his conception, is he not infected with corruption? In his breeding, full of trouble, grief, and sickness, to his bréder? his place a hou●e of darkness, and his liberty conjoined to a limit? when with a world of pain to his enlarger, covered with v●cleen●nesse, he comes he knows not whither, is received by he knows not whom, doth he knows not what, & lives he knows not how; disfurnished of all defence against hurt, unprovided of all comfort towards his g●od: unable to stand without help, or to be thankful to them that holds him up: crying before he speaks, to signify sorrow b●yond speech; and subject to so many dangers, a● ho●rely threaten but his death: which if h●e scape in his Infancy, he shall find in his elder age: for n●thing is more certain than death, nor uncertain then the time, and the mean: his des●res insatiable, his humo●re variable, his ●uries intolerable, his sinne● innumerable▪ and so h●s life execrable. What▪ h●e is not this, he is not himself, and being this, wh●t can be worse than himself? for his estate, in what estate soever he be, let us see the best that he can be, an● then consider what withal he may be. If a ●●ing, he may be a tyrant, and that is odiose: or a sheep, and that is 〈…〉 If a Counsellor, he may be prend, and that may breed envy▪ he may be covetous, and that may corrupt conscience. If a soldier, he may be desperate, and so dangerous, or bloody, and so murderous: or covetous, and so treacherous. If a Lawyer, he may b● partial, and that were perilous: or greedy, and that were grievous: or faithless, and that were villamous. If a Merchant, he may be bankrupt, and so a beggar▪ or a theatre, and so a villain. If an Usurer, he may be a dog, and so half a diuel●. If a Tradesman, he may be a false dealer, and so a deceiver, or a plain deal●●, and so a beggar. If a Farmer, he may be a Corn-monger▪ and so a C●arl●: Or a Grazier, an● so a Chuff. If a Miller, he may toll false, and so pro●e ● Thee●e. If a Labourer, he may be lazy, and so lubber: or ● beggar, and so a ●ag●e. In sum, examine every ●ne of ●●ese, and see of what estate he is, that may deserve to be honoured for his worthiness. If a Queen, I say nothing but Go● preserve her. If a Lady, she may lack honour, and that were shameful. If a Gentle woman, she may have a wrong title, and that wer● pity. If a Citizen, she may be proud, and that is uncomely. If a Country dame, she may love ●auncing, and so further fro●●ng. If a beggar, she may be a Bawd, and so a baggage: so that ●●ale, and female, I see no state, but in the same they are subject to s●ch imperfections, that there is little desert of commendations, which may make man a more worthy creature than any other. If he be young, ●is ●ddes h● is wanton: if aged, he is wilful: if rich, he is proud: if p●●re, he is desperate: if wise, he is troubled: if fond, he is scorned: so that 〈◊〉 is many ways so blamable, as that he is almost no way commendable: but in desert of due praise, inferior ●o many other creatures: what feeds so grossly, speaks more loudly, 〈◊〉 so vile●y▪ An Eagle will catch at no flies, when high minds will stoop at 〈◊〉 matters: a Lion will not pray on a Lamb, ●ut a Tyrant will no● spare the innocent: a Hawk will be reclaimed to her ●ure, when a man will hearken to no learning: a horse will know hi●●yder, when a Scholar will be a stranger to his master: ye●, a ●ogge will be a watchman at his masters door, when a servant will be 〈◊〉 in his house: and a spaniel will wag his tail for a bone, 〈◊〉 will be ungrateful for a great benefit. A Nightingale singes b● nature, man cries by nature: the Elephant will lead a man through the wilderness, but man will lead man into destruction: the Lizard will keep a man from the Serpent, but one man is a Serpent to another: the Ant laboureth for his living, while man sleepeth out the time of his labour: the Sparrow will learn to keep ●ut, while man will keep in no compass: the birds unto their ●ing the Eagle, the beasts to the Lion, the fishes to the Whale, are more in subjection by nature, than men either by law▪ or love, to their Sovereign. For neatness, how clean keeps the Bee her hive, and ●ow fowl is many a Sluttes hous●? For apparel, how doth th●●wanne prune her feathers ● and how full of feathers is many a Slo●ens fowl coat? For wit, how hath nature ●aught the Fee to suck ●he●oney, and gather the wa●e off the flowers, while man with his folly gets but poison from the weeds? What cunning hath nature taught the Spider in her web, while men by Art are fain to study for less skill? for outward neatness, the beast kicketh his hair, the bird pr●neth her feathers▪ the fish scoureth his scales: while man only is so lazy, as he will fierce fond time to wash his hands: for inward cleanness I mean, of nature, look into the Beasts, and of all the most monstrous, the Elephant, and compare them with man, you shall see s●ch to be the difference, as may be a shameful grief to think on: there is no beast, great or small, but knoweth his time of generation with his female, which passed, he leaveth her, and falleth to such course, as either 〈◊〉 or service doth command him, not dwelling upon the vileness of his action, but as it were glad to be from it: yet for the time is he to her so kind, that he will sport and play with her, so careful over her, that he will suffer none to hurt her, and so jealous of her kindness, as that he will adventure death, ●re an other shall ●nioy her. But of all the most worthy to be noted, as I before said, is the Elephant, who certain days before his meeting with his female, that she may kindly entertain him, goes to the Sea, and ther● as deep as he dare stand for drowning, stayeth till the waves do almost cover him, when being well washed, he walketh into some place where he may dry him in the Sun, then goeth unto some Rock, where betwixt two stones, he whetteth his tusks, as it were to burnish them and sharpen them for some fight: all which performed, he walketh full of melancholy, till he have met with his female, when putting on a pleasing humour, he maketh her such sport, as he finds most fitting her contentment: which done, and having performed for certain days, that due course where unto nature hath commanded him, he than retires himself into some solitary place, where as it were, weary, and not well pleased with himself with that he hath done, solemnly stealeth alone down again to the Sea, where in like manner as before, he standeth till he be clean washed from that uncleanness wherewith he finds himself defiled: which done, and dried as before in some sunnis place, he getteth him again to his fellow mates, where he passeth the rest of his life: and (which I had almost forgot) it is sai● that ●ée only once in the year, and only to one, thus ties the time of his delight.  
Now for birds, have they not all a time of breeding? an● doth not every Cock keep with his Hen? yea, and if he find any f●ne grain or seed that he holds most dainty, will he not call for his H●nne, and spare it from himself, to bestow it on her, and die upon him that will ●are to tread her? yea, and in the time of her sitting, when she seeketh for foo●e, will help to hatch up her young, or bring food into her nest, both for her and her young ones, and withal, having once chosen each other, how kindly without change, do they keep one with an other, while b●t one month in the year, they have (most of them) the time of their treading.  
Now note I say, this the nature both of beasts and birds, both in their cleanness and kindness to their females, and how far it exceedeth the nature of man▪ who spareth neither time, nor place, to follow his f●●thy desires, not caring how unclean either himself or his minion be, so he may after a full stomach, and drunken ryotting, tumble with his Trull, and almost not caring who behold him: and withal, many a one, yea to his own wife, to whom he is bound, both by the law of God, and nature, to be kind, and in all honest course of reason to be careful of, will be more dogged than any dog, and care not what become of her, nor who enjoy her, so that he may make a gain of her: but how woeful is the state of that woman, and how wicked is the ●atur● of that man, let indifferency give judgement, to the commendation of all creatures but man, and the only discommendation of man. Oh how sweet a thing is it to behold the ●●we suckle her lambs, the Hen clocking her chickens, and to think how little a time they take in their generation, after which, they no more endure the company of their ●ales: and what a sorrow and shame it is, to see some women send their children to Nurses, far from them, and so ●●idome look after them, as though they never cared to see them: yea, and without providing for them, let them either beg, or starve for their livings, and withal, have their lu●ts never satisfied, but ready to spoil one, to make an other, or so o●t to be breaking up of the ground, that the seed hath no time to bring fruit. Again, what beast or b●rd, but knows his own young? and how many a man, that God know is, knoweth not his own child, but labours to maintain the fru●te of an others pleasures? What shall I say? Tedious it were to run through the courses of nature in all creatures: of which no doubt, there is not any, but for due causes of commendation exceedeth man in his corrupt nature.  
Again, what goodly flocks of sheep, what herds of cattle, what flight of birds, and what scowls of fishes, are oftentimes to be seen, to live kindly together: and man, oh wretched man, how few can agree together, when one can scarce live by an other: yea in the very time of death, when the sheep finds itself infected, he strayeth from the flock, and dies alone in some solitary place, as loath to infect his company: if a bird be either sick or diseased, she percheth alone upon some bough, or swigge, where alone she makes an end of her life, as loath to grieve her friends with her calamities: the fish no sooner is either sick, or hurt, but he runneth to the sh●re, where alone he endeth his days, as loath to infect the water with his putrefaction. Man only when he finds himself sick or hurt, gets himself into the City or Town of most company of people, there in his own, or his Hostess house, in the best Chamber, in the finest sheeets, and the most sumptuous bed, and among a number of his best friends, how foul and infectious soever be his disease, not ashamed who see him, nor caring who be hurt by him, giving grief to many, and leaving good to few, perhaps with roaring and crying, vomiting and purging, in all the ●●thinesse of corruption, dies f●rre more beastly than any beast.  
Consider then, since in so ma●● parts of imperfections, man is so worthy dispraise, and all creatures living in all due parts of commendations, do so exceed him, I cannot in mine opinion, but conclude him to be the most dishonourable, and uncommendable of all creatures in the world.  Dinar. 
Antonio, gramercy for thy too true, though semewhat too bitter, laying open the beastly nature of man, as too many are found in these days: but as I greatly like of thy consideration of their corruption, so would I hear what may be spoken of the contrary: for I am partly persuaded, that either some fri●nd hath deceived thee, some enemy abused thee, or some creature like a woman, played false with thee, that thou hast so narrowly looked into the notes of their evil nature. But let it be as it is, thou hast spoken but a truth, for which let other, I will not blame thee, but rather heartily thank thee. And now Meandro, shall I entreat you to deliver your mind upon this subject?  Mean. 
Father Antonio hath spoken so home to his purpose, that he hath made me half afraid to make any reply, yet at your commandment, I will show my weak judgement. Touching the worthiness of man, I find him in many due considerations, the most worthy reverence, honour, and commendation, of all creatures. And first, touching his first substance: the first substance whereof I find man to be framed, was rather the breame of the earth, than the slime of the earth: for surely it had never else made such butter as could receive the print of so excellent a form as man: but when nature had bethought herself of some such exceeding substance, as that therein she would be pleased above all other, she then took rather the Cream than slime of the earth, whereon she set the four Elements, to show their virtues in that work, which she would name her best b●loued, and having framed that excellent form of man, who both b● his outward and inward gifts, she had-made most gracious of all creatures: what predomination did she give unto him over them all? yea even unto the Elements, who had their workings in his creation, to be now at his commandment: hath he not the fire to warm and to heat with? the water to ●óole, and wet with? the air to breath by, and to fill with? and the earth to dwell, and to plant on.  
Doth not the Bird come down from his highest pitch? the Beast come down from the highest mountains, and the fish come up from the deepest waters, and all to ●éede his hungry stomach, to clothe his naked carcase, and to enrich his rusty treasure? do they not fear his eye? tremble at his voice? and be they not obedient to his commandment? but to answer more particularly to each point: In his generation, is not his substance of the strength and almost life of the four elements? which met in a little matter, form so excellent a creature? then for his place, though dark to blind eyes, yet hath understanding there that clear sight, that nature hath her placing of every part of his perfect breeding, wher● knowing his constitution, she preserves him from all hurt, and feeds him so purely, as passeth a simplé comprehension: then at the time of her appointment, she delivers him into the hands of those that she knows will preserve him, not like a beast in the wilderness, nor a bird in a mossy nest, nor a fish in a muddy hole, but in a private place, and in such modest company, as concealing the fruit of corruption, bring him forth like the fairest of all creatures: when his crying prognosti●ateth his sorrow for this world, where he lost the first of his perfection, and feareth too great an infection: for his pain to his breeder, it is forgotten, being bred, and for his weakness in knowledge of either time, place, or person, it is a cause of a greater thankfulness, when he li●eth to know them all: for his disfurnishment of defence, his de●enders are provided, and for his want of comforts, a world of comforters: and for dangers when death is the worst, being the end of sorrows, the fear is nothing: his desires are reasonable, his furies appeaseable, his humours tolerable, his offences though innumerable, yet in pity, pardonable: his labours infinite, his cares discr●ete, his thoughts high, his studies deep: his wit admirable, and his life honourable: this if he be not, he is not himsel●e, and being this, on the earth what can be better than himself? Now for his estate, let us consider each estate sp●ke● of, and by degrees answer the oppositions: consider the worst that is, and the best that may be. If a king in his tyranny over the wicked, he may be a friend to the virtuous, in his clemency to the repentant, he may reclaim the malignant. If a Counsellor, his anarice may teach the prodigal thriftiness: and i● haughty, it may breed fear in the envious: If a soldier, a bloody execution may breed a quick victory, and a speedy peace: If desire of gain, it may breed the more care to keep, for fear to lose: If desperate, Fortune may be a friend to the adventurous. If a Lawyer, he may be partial in pity, and that may be gracious▪ and if covetous, it may make him studious: If a Merchant, his poverty may breed patience: and care, may recover his credit: If an Usurer, he may pleasure the needy, and punish the spend-thri●t: If a Trade's man, he may be cunning, and so wealthy: If simple, yet honest, though not rich: If a Farmer, good husbandry is no churlishness: And if a Grazier, each ●atte beast is not an Ore: If a Miller, a large Thumb shows a strong hand: If a labourer, recreation may be no laziness: If a beggar, a good exercise of Charity, and a Beade-man for the liberal. If she be a Queen, I say not only with Antonio, God preserve her, but knowing such a Queen in a little, but I may say, a greatly blessed Island, whom according to ●he excellency of her nature, the heavens have worthily named Bazilethea: I say such a Queen, as, not the greatest Monarchy in the world hath the like, to love, and honour.  
Let me say thus much in her due, that what dignity soever may ●e justly given unto man above all other creatures, that, and much more may be given unto her Majesty, above all other: who in all the judgements of the worthiest wits on the earth, is worthily held, not only the Grace of all her Court, but under heaven the very glory of her kingdom: whose patience in all trouble, whose temper in all passion, whose vountie to the well deserving, and justice over the obstinate, whose mercy to the offendant, and love to the vert●ous: whose beauty in nature, whose wisdom in judgement, whose magnanimity in dangers, and constancy in Religion, whose providence in care, and resolution in performance, makes her the true figure of the Phoenix, and the worthy honoured wonder of the world: whose praises so far pa●●e the reach of human reason to set down, that admiration may rather contemplate, than conceit express them: for while the wise serve, the virtuous love, the valiant ●eare, and the mighty admire. What can be said? but that since in the dignity of human nature she is the worthy wonder of her days, let her subjects ever pray, that in the ever wonder of the world, she m●y live the blessed Majesty of her kingdom, and be persuaded, that where the virtue of beauty, and beauty of virtue, the mercy of justice, and care of judgement, in the eye of Grace, the heart of Truth, and the hand of Bounty, makes that Angel of a woman, which proves the glory of a creature. Let the Phoenix be drawn from her spirit, and the dignity of man in this world under heaven from her Majesty: whom the Chronicles of never ending ages, may eternize for the most gracious Queen of the world. Of which Truth, while Envy is eating of her snaky haire● with anger, to hear of, Fame joyfully soundeth her name in eternal triumph.  
But lest I blot my paper, in seeking to show a fair hand, and abridge much of her worth, in so little touching the wonder of her worthiness, I will only leave Princes to admire her, the virtuous to love her▪ the honourable to atten● her, the learned to commend her, the devout to pray for her, that God who by his Almighty power for the good of her kingdom, did in her seat of Majesty place her, will so in his glorious mercy, in the same ever preserve her, that while the whole world is full of her worthy fame, her subjects may joy to behold the Majesty of her person: and while the greatest part of the world doth admire her, the heart of England may ever joy to enjoy her: to which prayer I hope he lives not s● unworthily borne, that will not joyfully say, Amen. And now, if in the weak sex of humane nature be found this matter of so excellent a Majesty, let no creature by many degrees of commendation come near unto man in his true dignity.  
Now to answer more briefly unto subjects of lower titles: If a Lady, she may want honour, but not virtue. If she be a Gentlewoman, she may be mistaken, and so wronged. If a Citizen, she may be proud, to avoid base familiarity. If a Countrywoman, she may be ●auncing, yet no filling: And if a beggar, though poor, yet may she be honest.  
In sum, there is no estate of man, from the Prince to the beggar, but in the worst that they are, they may be better than th●y seem to be: in youth he 〈◊〉 witty, ●n age he is wise, in wealth he is wary, in poverty he is patient: i● wise, he is honoured: if l●nd, he may be instructed, or pitied: what feeds so finely? speaks more sweetly, or lives so virtuously? being man, as he is indeed, or el●e indeed is not man: the stooping of a high mind, shows the virtue of humility, and to roo●e ●ut th● offspring of Idolatry, if it be, it is a good tyranny: who reclaims the Hawk to the lure, but the expert Falconer? or why loves the horse the Rider, but for his good keeping and managing? A servant will keep his masters coffers, while a dog will steal his meat from his Trencher: and a peasant will plant him a v●n●yard, while a spaniel can but spring him a Partridge. A Nightingale cannot but sing, nor sing but one m●neth, man singeth or sorroweth as he seeth cause, in reason, at what time soever. The fish cannot but swim, nor swim, but in the water: man can swim in the water, and walk out of the water: the Elephant will lead a man out of the wilderness, & man will deliver man out of much woefulness: the ●yzard keeps man from the Serpent, and man instructs man how to shun the devil: yea, and in his divine counsel, may be called a God unto man: Man laboureth for the corn whereon the Ant feedeth, and teacheth the Sparrow the cut that she keepe●. In sum▪ all creatures fear their king for his greatness, only man loveth his Sovereign for his goodness. Now what Bees ●iue is so clean, as the Merchant's parlour, or the milkmaids dairy? And for apparel, what Swans feathers more neat than the Courtier's cloak and the Citizen's gown? and while man plants his gardens with sweet flowers, the drones deceive the Bees of the honey. And how weak the web of the Spider is, every common Weaver can decipher.  
Now while the beast licks his hair, man brusheth his coat: while the bird pruneth her feathers, man combeth his hairs: and while the fish scoureth his scales, man batheth his skin: so that for outward neatness, there is no comparison in any creature to be had with man. Now for the inward part▪ the Spirit, man is not carried only by the instinct of nature, to seek out his 〈…〉 lust, but by reason, to love the object, where virtue is the grace of the subject, where beauty mu●t please the eye, and th●se qualities the mind, that make marriage honourable, and love comfortable. When conceit having met with contentment, cannot only keep company for a time, but is so tied in the bands of affection, that fancy can never get loose, but continneth love unto lives end: where both are so kind, that there can nothing be too dear for each other, and a loving jealousy, is a pleasing humour, while he laboureth abroad, and she hu● wipeth at home; for their own profit, and their children's comfort: and while the Wolf killeth the Lamb, and the Kite ●he Chicken, man keepeth his little ones from the danger of all hurt: and being satisfied with one choice, they never make other change. How many Histories are to be alleged, for the approving of this truth▪ yea, how many have died for want and loss of their beloved? and for their love to their little ones, oh how infinite are the studies, labours, and travails in the parents, for the breeding, nourishing, instructing, and bestowing of their children in their lives, and what care in laying up f●r them after their deaths? what care hath the husband for his wife in her childbed? what solemnity at a Christening? and what sorrow at a burial? and for knowledge, how many Fathers have not only begot, but bred their own Children? so that God knoweth they are not ignorant of his blessings: Now for their deaths, as they were borne so they die, in a bed, or Chamber, among such as are by goods, or good counsel to be the better for them, and in Cities, for that there is most hope of remedy, and amongst friends, wh●re is most assurance of help and comfort: and sometime die, as well pleased as to live, and rather to die, then live diseased: so that in all estates of what condition soever, I still find man to be the most honourable creature.  
Thus have I a● near as I can answered Antonio ●o enevery particular point of his invective: but in brief, who could consider the majesty of a King, the wisdom of a Counsellor, the valour of a soldier, the learning of a Lawyer, the travail of a Merchant, the husbandry of a Farmer, the toil of a Tradesman, and the patience of a beggar, might well avow loyalty to the Prince, love to the Counsellor, honour to the soldier, service to the Lawyer, and praise to the Merchant, and wish a good harvest to the Farmer, a good chapman to the Tradesman, and a good alms to the beggar: and in all and every of them, find so much matter of commendation, as no other creature can come near: but since it were a Labyrinth too long to enter into the infinite causes all other creatures, I will say but this in conclusion, that the fair Ladies of a Court, the gallant soldiers in a Camp, the grave scholars in a University, and the solemn companies of a City, and the good fellows in a Country, so putteth down, a flight of wild Géece, a heard of Swine, and a skoule of Herring, that for all causes, both majesty, amity, and unity, man is the only creature worthy of all honourable commendation.  Dinar. 
Meandro, thou hast spoken a little to some purpose, it may be thou hast either met with a kind wench, or an honest friend, that hath brought thee into this good belief of all other: but howsoever it be, I mislike not what thou hast said, what ever it be that thou thinkst: but to answer ye both, let me tell ye, that ye are both short of that you would seem to speak of, which is the worthiness, or unworthiness of man: which neither lieth in your praise, nor his disgrace, but in that which either above, or below your reaches is to be considered: ye have been like two Fishers that came to a Brook where were good Fish, but they lay at the bottom, which though no deeper than they might wade, yet they loathed to take too much pains, caught a few Engines in the shallow gravel, and thought themselves no mean Fishermen: you have studied some point of Philosophy, and observed much of that you have seen, but Aristotle must give place to Plato, and you may learn more if you will take pains: and for that I will not be so ungrateful, as to say nothing touching your opinions, I will deliver ye a little of what I have red, and gathered fully: by my reading, touching this point of the Dignity, or Indignity of man.  
First, touching his ●…st substance, it was neither of slime; nor Cream, as either of you have imagined, but of a secret instinct of love, which would have an Image like unto itself, when the omnipotency of the Deity began a work of great Majesty: when in the second person of himself he showed the perfection of that form. Learn then to know, that before all beginnings there was a beginning, which being without beginning in itself, began all beginnings by itself, and willing to be pleased in itself, began this first Image to itself: so that hereby ye may see in this beginner of all beginnings, was love the first beginner of this work, which we call man, who having all things before itself to look upon, made love the only first substance to work upon, which laid upon this slime or Cream as ye have termed it, brought it to that form which itself liked: and (as it is) then first named it, man.  
Here now was the first and only best part of his honour, that the creature was made unto the Image of his Creator. I speak not of that outward form, wherein we behold him, but in that inward perfection wherein his glory created him. Now to his second honour, he placed him in Paradise, where he made him keeper of his garden, with possession of all his fruits, one only excepted. The third honour, he gave him power and commandment over all his earthly creatures, and to name them at his own pleasure. The fourth honour was his wife, that he took out of his own side, that he might be matched, but with himself, nor with any meaner creature than himself. These are the four first proofs of the dignity and honour of man, in his first perfection: his creation to the Image of his Creator, his keeping of Paradise, his command over all other earthly creatures, and his companion but a part of himself. Now to enter into further parts of honour bestowed upon them, the wisdom of the Prophets, the miracles done by them, the valour of the Kings, the victories got by them, the blessings of the faithful, the true memory of them, his love of his beloved, the death of his only Son Jesus Christ for them, the messages of his Angeles, to the servants of his love, the Incarnation of Eternity, in the womb of virginity, the inspiration of the Apostles, the patience of the Martyrs, and the ●oy of the ●●ect, these all are proofs of great honour above all other creatur●s, whom God had endued with so many excellent beauties. What Bird can build a nest like the Temple of Solomon? or Eagle make a wing with the wisdom of john the Evangelist? What Lion so stout, but Samson could tame him? and what Giant so great, but little David could conquer him? and what Whale so ravenous, but jonas could get out of him? what danger so great, but josuah would attempt it? and what misery such, but Jacob's patience did endure it?  
Now leaving to speak of those ancient examples, let us come into these days to behold the miraculous works of God in the heart of man, in the government of kingdoms, in war, and in peace, the rare Art in gorgeous buildings, the running hand in planting of fruits, the excellent skill, in the fortifying of countries, the dainty Art of the Needle in works of all colours, the excellent Harmony in the Art of Music: In sum, all the excellencies that can be imagined, as well by Sea, in the Shipwright and Sailor, as by Land in the Soldier, and Miner, and the Scholar as well in knowledge, as utterance: Are not all these excellencies, with all the moral virtues, only proper unto man? and last of all his acknowledging of his God, to whom he is only bound for all his goodness? Are not all these I say, with innumerable more, to be said, sufficient proofs of the honour of man? who still looking up towards heaven, from whence only he hath all his good, and where knowing, and despising the world, he l●ueth to be, for his be●t, last, and everlasting good: Is not all this I say, enough to make man joy in himself, to be the servant unto such a Lord? as in love would first make him like himself, and then never cease to bestow his daily and hourly blessings upon him? yet it must needs be, by all that hath been and can be said, that by all due causes of ●onour, man is of all the most worthy creature: For did not jehovah himself speak out of the cloud and the bush unto Moses? Came not the Angel from heaven, to salute Abraham on the earth? was not Eilas carried into heaven in a whirlwind? came not Gabriel the Archangel, with a message to the blessed Virgin Mary? and came not Christ h●mselfe from heaven, to save sinners from hell? and can there be a greater honour to man, or that may make him more honourable, then to be spoken t●o by his Creator, saluted by his Angel, and saved by his only son? no, no, let the Eagle soar as high as she can, she must come down to man: the Lion look as fierce as he can, he must fall down to man: and the Whale gape as wide as he can, he must cast up Iona●, and give honour to man: for God hath given him, and he must have the honour of, and above all earthly creatures. But now I have spoken thus much in his behalf for his dignity, lest I make him proud of that which is none of his own, let me a little speak of his vileness, which is the just cause of hi● indignity. Man being at the first created so pure within, and perfect without, that there was no creature so pleased God, having made all creatures to please man, man only to please himself, oh how soon● began the in●ection of corruption to enter into this excellent matter, when the subtlety of the Serpent began so closely to spit his poison, that the venom was not felt till it came to the heart, and so ran to the very soul, when ●it proud of understanding, unthankful for his knowledge in seeking more than needful, lost that was necessary: and by whom was this bane brought him, but by her that came out of him, even a part of himself, the R●●me of his whole self, and which is most to be lamented, a piece so near his heart, should vvi the hurt of his own soul ● oh what indignity can there be more in wit? to prove it more truly ●olly, then like Aesop's dog, to lose a bone for a shadow, or worse, comfort for sorrow? and what more indignity to the nature of man, then to be so unthankful to his maker, to make no more regard of his command, then having b●t one thing forbidden, and with a penalty of offence, yet would presume to adventure that ill, that might be the l●sse of all his good▪ Oh unwise unthankfulness, the first ground of his unhappiness, and first note of his unworthiness. Oh most unhappiness of all other, that he who was made of love, should so be made a subject of hate: and oh most unworthy of all creatures to be honoured, that was so ungrateful to his most honourable Creator▪ and note now how by one sin, he lost all his honours: he lost the perfection that he lived in, before this his desert of death: his perfection of that love, which let him lack nothing while he loved: by tasting the forbidden fruit, he swallowed the poison of presumption, and by the Angel was driven out of Paradise. Here was two honours lost▪ the Image was now defaced, the creature of his place dispossessed, and from his pleasures banished: for whose sin, the earth that before was blessed, was now accursed: oh two plain a note of his Indignity, when for his unworthiness the earth was cursed with barrenness: he that was only framed ●y the love of God, should now fly from the voice of God. Now the third honour, where he before had the service of all earthly creatures, he now w●s fain to labour with thos● creatures: and in seeing their obedience to his will, sorrow in shame, to think of his own disobedience to his ma●●ter. Now to the last honour, his companion, his wife, that woman, that part of himself, which in love might have been his comfort; by want of love, through the poison of pride, wrought his utter dishonour: where the shame of his nakedness, was too true a note of his wickedness; too plain a proof of his unworthiness. Thus lost the first man through pride, the whole honour of his first happiness. Now to enter into further parts of dishonour, what wickedness was in Cham, to uncover the nakedness of his father, which proved unworthiness to be a son, that would be the shame of his father? what dishonour was in Cain, who slew h●s brother Abel, how unworthy was he to be a brother that sought the death of his dearest & nearest bloo●? what Indignity of a Crown showed Pharaoh, when in the swelling pride of his power, he would oppose himself against the 〈◊〉 o● Kings? How unworthy was he to be a king on the earth, that proved such a rebel unto the king of ●ea●en? how dishonourable were Socome, and Gomorrah, who with the fi●●h of their concupiscence would have pr●●sed upon the Angels? what Indignity was in those Princes that ston●s the Prophets, the Ambassadors of heavens Emperor? what Indignity was in judas to betray his m●ister, Christ jesus? was he worthy to be a servant, that would be a villain to such ● master? and what Indignity was in all the jews, that sought ●he death of the son of God? Tedious it were to run ou●● all the examples of the Indignity in man, which in the sacred word of truth are set down, where ye may plainly discover all the due causes both of man's honour, and dishonour: but leaving that true discourse for all gracious eyes to look on, let me a little lower descend, into reasons daily observation. What dishonour it is to a King, to be ungracious to his subject? what dishonour in a subject, to be disloyal to his Prince? what Indignity it is to Counsellor, to be either faithless to his King, or careless of his command? what a dishonour 'tis to a soldier to betray his trust, to an enemy? how unworthy is that Lawyer that pleads against conscience for coin? how unworthy is that Merchant that plays bankrupt without need? how ungracious is that Farmer, that starves the poor people, and feeds the Rats with his corn? how unhonest is that labourer, who will not work for his wages? and how base a villain is that beggar, that makes an art of his roguery? let the aggrieved confess, I would it were not to be considered. Let me look f●rther into other proofs of the Indignity of man, where the son is ●ike of the father, the sister of the brother, the servant of the master the wife of the husband, and the subject of the Prince: where the son is unnatural, the sister is unkind, the servant is untrue, the wife is unhonest, and the subject is unfaithful: what Indignities are these, to prove the disgracious nature of man? Again, where the wrath of the mighty is more fierce than the Lion, and the pride of the ambitious, flies higher than the Eagle, and the greediness of the covetous swallows more than the Whale; oh how great are these Indignities apparent▪ yea in those, in whom they are most to be lamented. What Crocodile so dangerous as the tongue of a Parasite? and what Cockatrice so venomous, as the eye of a lewd woman? and what Indignity it is to a scholar, that should be the minister of truth, to cover craft with eloquence: and what ignominy to beauty, that is an enemy to Virtue, let the deceived confess, and abusers amend. In sum, of what estate can that man or woman be, that some way shows not some such part of Indignity, a● speaks not something in their dishonour? B●t to be short, the chief cause of all the Indignity that I find in man, groweth either through impatience in the proud, pride in the mighty, disobedience in the subject, or unthankfulness in the poor. Learn then the honour of humility, the virtue of patience, the grace of obedience, and the blessing of thankfulness, in which only, and God● mercy, I find lies man's all, and only truest happiness, and his honours most apparent worthiness. And therefore leave to make comparisons betwixt either beast, fowl, or fish, and man, knowing the excellency of his nature in his first perfection, neither think any beast, fish, or fowl, so monstrous in shape, as man is in nature, when he followeth the course of his corruption: but if he were created of the slime of the earth, as Master Antonio describes him, the greater was the glory of the Creator, of so vile a matter to make so excellent a creature as man: or if he were as Meandro holds him, created of the cream of the earth, yet the Butter was but a gross substance to make so gracious a creature as man: but say that he was first framed out of the love of God, which did create him to his own Image, yet you see more than was of that love, kept no part of perf●●tion, but fell through the weakness of itself, into the ruin of itself, for the flesh took infection, whereby the spirit being corrupted, the whole creature was overthrown: so that that man or woman, that in the love and fear of God, is not obedient to his will, nor thankful for his graces, such a world of enormities will sin beget in his soul, that by the infection thereof, he will become more ugly in the sight of God, than the greatest monster in the world in the sight of man: and s● by due consideration, be found by many indignities to be the most dishonourable creature in the world: for outward form, behold the excellency of God's wisdom, in his workmanship upon all creatures, the feathers of the birds, the hairs of the beasts, and the scales of the fishes, how even and smooth they lie, how long they keep their colour that nature hath once given them: whi●● man, according to his age, either changeth or looseth both colo●● and hair too: in strength the ●yon doth exceed him: in swiftness the Hare will outrun him, and the Dolphin outswim him: in sweetness the Nightingale outsing him: in labour the Ox will out-toile him, and in subtlety the Fox will outmatch him; so that in all these gifts of nature, with many other, he is inferior in commendation to the beasts, birds, and the fishes: and therefore can justly challenge no honour above them, only reason he hath beyond them, by which he hath power to govern over them: of which once deprived, he is worse than any of them: the beast, though he have all the field before him, will eat no more: the bird though she perch never so safely, will sleep no more: the fish though he have all the sea before him, will drink no more than will suffice nature: while the Epicure will eat till his jaws ache, the Drunkard will swill till his eyes stare, and the sluggard will sleep till his bones ache: while the one with his blowing, the other with his reeling, and the third with his snorting, so lays himself open to the world in the filthiness of his imperfection, that who beholds the beasts temper, and the man's intemperancy, will in worthiness of commendation, set the beasts before the man.  
Again in talk, what Pie, chatters like a Scold? what wolf more cruel than a Tyrant? what Sow more filthy than a Sl●t? what sparrow more luxurious than a Whore? what Fox more subtle than a knave? what Toad more venomous than a Villain? or Serpent more deadly, than a malicious woman? Did ever bird betray the Eagle, his king? the beast, the Lion, his king? or the fish the Whale, his king? and, how many Kings have been betrayed by traitorous Rebels, and supposed subjects, yea be their own servants? I would there were not too many examples to the shame of man to confirm it. Nay more, how that all, and above all, blessed, gracious, good, holy, and glorious, merciful King of Kings, our Lord, and Saviour Christ jesus, was betrayed by that devil of a man, that false, wicked, and most detestable villain judas: what a shame may it be to the nature of man, to think that ever man should be of so vile a nature.  
Thus than you may see, how in the worst pa●t, in the wickedness of the heart, man may worthily be called the worst creature of the whole world. Yet lest I leave man in despair of himself, to think of the vileness of his corrupted nature, let me speak somewhat to his comfort, that hath yet been spoken of: that fi●st pure substance, that spiritual instinct of love. The first cause of man's creation, hath in his spirit such an eternal power, as that though some vessels of his wrath, he hath ordained to his secret judgement, yet in man generally, that hath any feeling of his mercy, he hath so glorious a working of his grace, that by many admirable deserts of commendation, he may well be called the most honourable of all creatures: who teacheth the horse his true manages, the bird his ●are notes, the dog his strange qualities, but man? Furthermore, is there not in the face of man such a kind of divine power, given him by his Creator, as gives a kind of terror unto all creatures, and in the heart of man is not that understanding that makes him the most honourable of all other? How many, and ra●e Arts, how excellent & cunning works, how rich & gorgeous monuments, the divisions of times, the applications o● experiments, the employments of natures, and the observations of examples, the fetching the bird from the air, the fruit from the earth, the beast from the field, the fish from the sea, the Fowler's grins, the Hunter's snares, and the Fisher's nets, are they not all the labours of the wit of man? the Instruments of war, the treatise of peace, the harmonies of Music, and the ditties of love, are they not the devise of man? Is not the firmament, as it were ruled out, the earth as it were chalked ●ut, and the sea, as it were cut out, as if there were a walk amid the stars, a passage through the earth, and a path through the seas, to which purpose, the Globes and Maps are made by the wit of man? and may not all these excellencies in the wit of man, above all creatures, prove the honour of man? But above all these, that spirit or soul of man, which in immortality beholds the eternal life, in grace beholds the eternal comfort, and in mercy beholds the eternal goodness, wherein the Saints are blessed, the Martyrs rejoice, the virgins are graced, and the Angels are glorious, and where all together in one Consort do sing the Halleluiah of eternity: this comfort, when man receiveth by that faith that God hath by the inspiration of his holy spirit so fixed in him, that it can never be from him, when man I say, by the gracious blessing of God, can effect so rare excellencies in the world, and behold so many superexcellencies in the heavens, as the eye of no creature but man is able to look after: and withal, hath as I said, that heavenly blessing of immortality, that is granted to no creature but man: Let man be as he was in his creation, or as he should be in his generation, and then leaving all creatures to the service of man, and man only to the service of God: Let us conclude man to be the most honourable creature, and by due desert of commendation, to be by many degrees set above them all.  
Thus have I showed you mine opinion, how man may justly receive his Title of Dignity, or Indignity, either by the gracious use of that Reason, by which he doth far exceed all Creatures in commendation, or by the abuse of that Reason, that may make him the worst of all Creatures. It is not a fair painted face, a proud look, a crafty wit, a smoothing tongue, nor a scraping or a bribing hand, that makes a man a worthy Creature, but an humble heart, a modest eye, a simple meaning, a virtuous disposition, a true tongue, a liberal hand, and a loving heart, that makes man truly honourable. Oh then let the Prince be gracious: the Courtier virtuous: the soldier merciful: the Lawyer conscionable: th● Merchant charitable: the Farmer no Snudge: the labourer painful: and the Beggar thankful: and then will the Commonwealth of the world, be such a kind of heaven on the earth, that the very Angels of the heaven, will commend the beauty of the world, when thus only in man, they shall see the chief dignity of a Creature: for there will be a day of change, ●he wealthy must leave his treasure, the fair must lose her beauty, and the powerful must come down from his place, and all be summoned to appear at one time, and to one Court: where, as prisoners at a bar, they shall answer to their Inditements, and from whence delivered, either to comfort or execution, and that eternal to either: where account must be had of all, and no partiality be admitted: where Conscience accuseth, Truth confesseth, and justice concludeth: when if Mercy were not gracious, judgement would be terrible: where Faith is only blessed, and despair only accursed: and then shall man see his dishonour, when the honour of all honours, shall make him see his disgrace, and receive his chief honour, when in mercy he receives comfort: of which honour is no man worthy, but whom the honour of all worthiness, and worthiness of all honour, makes honourable by his worthiness: in him then the substance and sum of all honour and worthiness, that judge of all justice, that searcher and sounder of all truth, that Lord of all mercy, King of all grace, and God of ●ll glory, our Saviour Christ I●sus, let man's honour be sought, and his worthiness be s●ene: for, what more he is then in Christ, he is a most dishonourable creature: and what he is in him, he is better than any creature. Thus have I shown you in my opinion, how a man is the most worthy or unworthy creature of the world, of ●ither honour, or commendation: which if you study never so much in the rules of nature you can never find out, but in the rules of grace, you shall ●inde only discovered: think then with yourselves how glorious is the study of the divine comfort, where reason only by grace, beholdeth the bea●tie or deformity, the honour, or dishonour of nature. And now that you have so well stored your minds with the observations of experience, betake your spirits to contemplation, in matter of higher comfort: that Reason the governor o● Nature, may not lose the honour of his virtue: nor Grace, the governor of Reason, may lose the majesty of his glory: for man being as he should be, is as it were a god unto man: but as many a one is, and should not be, is worse than a beast, and little less than a devil unto man. For the Physician that by his learned skill, and honest care finds the grief of the diseased, and doth speedily bring him to health: is he not a kind of god unto man, that saves his life so near death? The Lawyer that by his reading and knowledge finds the right of the distressed, and by justice delivers him from his oppression, is not such a judge a kind of god upon the earth? The Merchant tha● hath his debtor in prison, and seeing his misery, in the virtue of charity, forgiveth the debt, and setteth him at liberty, is he not a kind of god unto man▪ And first of all to be spoken of, if the Prince find an unwilling offender, with confession, penitent, yet by the law to death condemned, and out of the majesty of his mercy, pardoneth the offence, and favoureth the offender, is he not worthy to be called a kind of god unto man? If a man shall find his neighbour assaulted, and by thieves, ready to be robbed, spoiled, and murdered, if be by his valorous adventure of his life, do not only defend him, but be the death of his enemies, and so for ever procure his safety, is he not a kind of god unto man? If a rich man passing by a poor creature, whom he seeth ly● in misery and poverty, if like the Samaritan, he relieve him, comfort him, and never leave him till he have recovered him, is he not in a kind, as it were a god unto man? If a learned and true Divine, fin●ing a sinner, through the greatness of his sins, almos● in despair of mercy, and so in danger of damnation, with preaching to him the true word of God, and showing him the book for his warrant for that he preacheth, if with such preaching to him, prayer for him, he do deliver him from that dangerous sin of despair, and by God● grace do establish that faith in him, that bring him into the estate of the blessed, is he not a god unto man? But chose, if a Prince upon a false information command his loyal subject unto death, that hath by many good services deserved his gracious favour, is he not if he be a Tyrant, half a devil unto man? If a soldier for the gain of a little money, betray the trust of his Captain, and make sale of his people, is he not a kind of devil unto man? If a Lawyer shall by extortion or bribery, grieve the oppressed, wrong the poor to pleasure the rich, and plead against his own conscience, to the undoing of a simple creature, is he not a kind of devil unto man? If a Physician, will in stead of a preservative, give his patient a poisoned potion, is he not a kind of devil unto man? And if a Merchant, void of charity, cast his debtor into prison, and there beholding his misery, without remorse of conscience, lets him perish without relief, is he not a kind of devil unto man? If a neighbour i● the cavy of his neighbours good, seek not only by himself, but by all the means ●e can to spoil him of all his goods, yea and to deprive him of his li●e, is not such a dog, a kind of devil unto man? If a rich man, shall pass by a poor soul, sick, sore, lame, and wounded, and will not only like the Levite run from him, or not so much as th● Priest say, God help him, but giving him nothing, rail upon him, rate him, spurn him, and with taunts, che●ks, yea & whips, wound him deeper than he was at first, and so with cruelty, crucify him, that he will never leave till he have killed him: is not he a kind of devil unto man? Last, and most of all, if he, who taketh upon him the outward habit of a Divine, and within be so far from divinity, that he will rather lead the sinner into hell, than the repentant to grace, is not he a kind of devil unto man? What shall I need to run into a world of questions in this point, is not the virtuous a kind of God, and the vicious a kind of devil in the world? Consider therefore, since only in God is that original of Virtue, whereby man only is made virtuous, and by that Virtue so gracious, as maketh him the most honourable of all creatures, and in the devil is that original of sin, whereby man is made vicious, and by his vices so disgracious, as maketh him the most dishonourable of all creatures.  
Whatsoever you read her●, or imagine, touching the true desert of the Dignity or the Indignity of man, these two verses shall be sufficient for your instruction, to lead you to the most true and perfect understanding of the same: which, without further dilatation I will make my conclusion.  

Si Christum bene s●is,  
nihil est si cetera nescis:  
Si Christum nescis, nihil est  
sicetera d●scis:   

Know Christ aright, know all  
that can be worth the knowing:  
But know nor Christ, and know  
all knowledge overthrowing.   An. 
Father, I am glad of this good morningsméeting, which I would not have missed for a great matter, & I am persuaded Meandro is of the same mind: for where we have been but beating the air with idle words, you have laid matter before us, worthy the looking on: to which I answer no more, but, if my memory can a● much pleasure me, as your speech, I will never go to school for better learning: how say you Meandro?  Mean. 
I say that I know not what to say, but that Dinarco hath said so much, that for the much good that I have received by his very much good discourse, I hold myself so much beholding ●o him, as while I have a day to know him, I will not cease an hour to honour him: but as I can but admire him, I will vow to love him: and in my love, will follow him: and so I think will you, or else you shall deceive me.  Anto. 
Yea, and not be myself.  Dinar. 
Well, the best is, the Sun shows what time of the day it is, and if it were not for going home to dinner, we should have a great deal of idle talk, but, if I have done you any good, thank God, the author of all goodness for it: but if you will be vai●e-headed, God help you, for I cannot: for your kind company I thank you: and if it may not offend you, the next time I meet with you, I will have another bout with you: till when, for that our bodies would as well be refreshed as our wits, let us go to dinner.  Anto. 
Father we will attend you, and glad when we may enjoy you: what say you Meandro?  Mean. 
I say I shall think each hour a year, till we meet again, for I could swear a good fast, to meet with such an other banquet.  Dinar. 
Well children, since you will needs put the title of a father upon me, I will take it: and wherein I can, do● you all the good that you desire. And so with God's blessing upon you, I end. Let us go.  
FINIS.